The _Josephine_ was still plunging on before the gale, as I had last seen her the night before, only that the mainsail had been torn away, although the tattered fragments were left clinging round the yard-arms, one or two longer pieces streaming out like pennants from the leech at each end of the spar, and some other strips had clung to the fore- rigging as they were blown away. The foretop-sail had been furled, and the ship was driving on with only her close-reefed main-topsail set; but preparations were being made as I got on deck for hoisting the mizzen staysail, so that we might more easily bring her head round to the wind in case of its showing any sign of shifting. This, however, was but a last resource, which could only be adopted in the extreme peril of being taken aback. There is no more ticklish operation than that of wearing a ship in a heavy sea where there is a strong following wind; and Captain Miles, for one, I could see, intended to let the vessel drive on as long as the gale lasted, unless it should try to head us, when of course he would have no alternative left but that of laying-to. He did not seem a bit uneasy as yet, though; for he greeted me quite cheerily when I at last managed to clamber up on the poop and make my way aft to where he was standing, holding on to everything I could clutch to maintain my footing. The ship was rolling from side to side like a porpoise, and the wind nearly blew the hair off my head, my cap having gone away to leeward the first step I took up the ladderway on emerging from the cabin after breakfast. "Well, Master Tom!" the captain shouted in my ear, the noise being so great that it almost required a speaking trumpet to make anyone hear at a great distance--"how do you like this weather, eh?" "A jolly sight better than the calm," I said joyously. The wind seemed to get in my head and make me excited in a similar way as it is supposed to affect cats; for I felt inclined to sing with glee as I braced myself up against the blast and clung to the binnacle rail, surveying the wild scene around in a perfect frenzy of delight. Sea and sky were mingled together; and the ship presented a grand spectacle as she nobly struggled against and overcame the combined strength of the elements trying to vanquish her efforts at escape! "A good breeze is certainly better than a calm, Tom," observed Mr Marline in response to my jubilant remark; "but, it all depends what sort of a wind it is, for, if it blows your vessel the wrong way, the question arises whether the former state of things be not preferable." "Belay that sea-lawyering, Marline," interposed Captain Miles. "I never saw such a fellow for taking a gloomy view of everything! Here we were rolling about in a calm for days upon days as if they would never end, while now we are bowling away before a brisk south-easter; and yet you are not happy!" "But in what direction are we going, eh, captain?" slyly inquired Mr Marline.