Frequently as the ship rolled, the ends of her yards flicked off the crest of the waves which rose up on either side. For several days the ship ran on, the gale in no way moderating. Emily and May longed to go on deck, to witness, with their brother and Mr Paget, the wild tumult of waters. They wisely entreated them not to make the attempt. "No, no, young ladies," said Captain Westerway, "you had better stay where you are. We are doing our best as seamen, but we cannot tell from one moment to another what may happen. A mast may go, and one of those waves following astern might break on board, and sweep the decks, and you will be carried away like feathers without the possibility of saving you." This reply made them very anxious whenever Charles and Mr Paget went on deck. One day they both had gone up as usual, promising to hold fast and not run any risk of the danger the Captain had pictured. Just as the ship had reached the crest of a sea a clap was heard like the sound of thunder. The fore-topsail had split. In an instant the larger portion was blown into ribbons, which, streaming out, flapped and twisted and curled themselves round the yard. "Fore-topmen, aloft!" cried the captain, and, led by Bill Windy, several men mounted the rigging with axes in their belts. As the fragments of the sail beat wildly about, the men ran a fearful risk of being caught by them and hurled into the foaming sea. Bravely they faced the danger, and, cutting away the remainder of the sail, off it flew like a gigantic kite ahead of the ship. Now came the task of bending another sail. Notwithstanding the difficulty, this was accomplished, the ship happily escaping being pooped during the interval.