"The moment I shoved my head out of the booby-hatch, I saw it was like to turn out a regular gale from nor'-east. Both courses brailed close up, and blowing out like rows of big bladders; the three topsail-yards down on the caps to reef, their canvas swelling and thundering on the stays like so many mad elephants breaking loose; the wild sky ahead of us staring right through in triumph, as it were, and the wind roaring from aft in her bare rigging; while a crowd of men in each top were laying out along the foot-ropes to both yard-arms. Below, they were singing out at the reef-tackles, the idlers tailing on behind from the cook to the cabin-boys, a mate to each gang, and the first officer, with his hands to his mouth, before the wheel, shouting, 'Bear a hand!--d'ye hear!----two reefs.' It did one's heart good, and I entered into the spirit of it, almost forgiving Finch his fine puppy lingo, when I saw him take it so coolly, standing like a seaman, and sending his bull's voice right up with the wind into the bellies of the topsails--so I e'en fell to myself, and dragged with the steward upon the mizzen reef-tackle till it was chock up. There we were, running dead before it, the huge waves swelling long and dark after us out of the mist, then the tops of them scattered into spray; the glaring white yards swayed slowly over aloft, each dotted with ten or a dozen sturdy figures, that leant over, with the reef-points in their hands, waiting till the men at the _earings_ gave the word; and Jacobs' face, as he turned round to do so--hanging on heaven knows what at one of the ends--was as distinct as possible against the gray scud miles off, and sixty feet above water. A middy, without his cap, and his hair blowing out, stood holding on in the maintop to quicken them; the first mate waved his hand for the helmsman to 'luff a little.' The ship's head was rounded slowly up as she rose on a big blue swell, that caught a wild gleam on it from westward, when I happened to glance towards the wheel. I could scarcely trust my eyes--in fact it had never been less in my mind since coming aboard than at that very point--but outside one of the round-house doors, which was half open, a few feet from the bulwark I leant over--of all moments in the day, _there_ stood Lota Hyde herself at last. Speak of faces!--why I hadn't even power to turn farther round, and if I was half out of breath before, what with the wind and with pulling my share, I was breathless now--all my notions of her never came up to the look of her face at that instant. She just half stopped, as it were, at sight of the state of things, her hands letting go of the large shawl, and her hair streaming from under a straw hat tied down with a ribbon--her lips parted betwixt dread and bewilderment, and her eyes wandering round till they settled to gazing straight at the scene ahead in pure delight. I actually looked away aloft from her again, to catch what it was she