They found out now what the _Pandora_ could do to make their lives unhappy. She was both weatherly and fast, but her lines for'ard were such that she never rose to any sea she struck till green water poured over the top-gallant foc'sle two feet deep. She shipped one sea at midnight that ripped off the scuttle-hatch and poured solid water into the foc'sle that washed the men out of the lower bunks. The hatch went overboard, and it was morning before any one dared go on the foc'sle head to spike planks down in place of it. All night long a cataract poured down on them, and water spurted in through the plugged hawse pipes. Soon there was not a dry blanket in their den; steam rose from the wet-packed sleepers. It was 'all hands' at four bells in the middle watch, and they went on deck to shorten sail. Not a man wore oilskins; they had nothing to keep from getting wet. Even Joe, who was the most cheerful man for'ard, fell to growling. "Call this a ship?" he said. "She's scared of the top of the sea and wants to dive so's to get out o' the wet. Stow the foresail, is it? I reckon the old man is goin' to heave her to while he can. He can't have much heart to do it with a fair wind." And perhaps Rayner had little heart. But if he had little, the mate was cheery enough. He bellowed loudly, and the men jumped. "Now then, haul taut the lifts," he roared. "That'll do. Weather clew-garner! Ease off the sheet a bit!" They slacked away the tack and hauled up the weather-gear. "Now then, lee-gear, and jump aloft and furl it." The night was black and the wind heavy in increasing squalls. Even with the foresail hanging in the gear, and bellying out in great white bladders, she still cut the seas like a knife, and scooped the seas in over her head. Blankets and bags washed out on deck, for there was no door to the men's quarters, only a heavy canvas screen from the break of the foc'sle. And from aloft dull foam gleamed as the _Pandora_ drove the seas asunder. The men sprang into the weather-rigging with the second mate leading. As he came to the futtock shrouds, he laid hold of the foremost shroud with his right hand, and jumped for the band of the yard-truss. His foot slipped and his hand-hold gave. He snatched with a yell at the top-gallant sheet leading through the top, but was too late to grasp and hold it. "By God, the _Pandora's_ luck," said the men in the rigging as they heard him reach the deck. And when the foresail was stowed and they went down they heard the man was dead. They found the _Pandora_ made heavy weather still, when she was brought to the wind, and she only lay to decently when she was stripped to the goose-winged main-topsail. The men went into their wet and devastated den in gloomy silence.