As he spoke, the boatswain’s whistle was heard, the men hurrying up, whilst O’Loughlin gave rapid orders to take in the royals, and furl the top-gallant sails, for the ship heeled over to a very sudden and singular kind of squall, that struck the water within a few yards of them. In a few minutes the sea was feather white, squall after squall coming over its hitherto tranquil surface. But the Babet was rapidly got under double-reefed topsails, and top-gallant masts housed, and was standing away to the westward, close hauled. “By St. Patrick, how suddenly this gale has come on,” observed Captain O’Loughlin to the first mate, William Thornton having gone below to reassure their passengers, who were alarmed by the sudden, and, indeed, violent heeling over of the corvette. “Yes, sir,” returned the mate, an old and experienced sailor; “but common enough in the Mediterranean. I should not be surprised if it increased to a very heavy gale; it’s looking exceedingly black to windward.” “She’s a steady craft under canvas, Mr. Holder.” “Yes, sir; but our rigging is all new, so we must be tender, or our masts may suffer.” “It would be well to get up some preventive back stays, and take in the lee rigging, which I see is as slack as a purser’s liberality.” As the night, which was intensely dark, advanced, the gale increased to a hurricane. Captain O’Loughlin, on consulting his charts, found they were heading towards the Spanish coast. So rapidly had the sea increased, that before morning they were preparing to heave the ship to, when the man forward sung out— “Ship right ahead.” The next moment, as Captain O’Loughlin and our hero were anxiously looking out, a huge ship was dimly seen, rising on the top of a monstrous billow. She was lying to. “It is the French ship, the Commerce de Marseilles,” said William Thornton, as the man at the wheel was ordered to keep the Babet a point or two to the nor’-west; and then she was hove to, just as a gun was fired from the Commerce de Marseilles, and the night signal displayed. This was promptly answered by the crew of the corvette, and her name given; and then all relapsed into silence, excepting the roar of the gale through the rigging, and the breaking surges as they dashed against the side of the ship. Still the gale increased; and when the grey light of morning broke over the storm-tossed deep, they could distinctly make out three ships, not half a mile from each other, all lying to. CHAPTER IX.