"My God!" exclaimed Cornish, who stood near the wheel unnoticed by me. "I might ha' been in her! I might ha' been in her!" And he covered his face with his hands, and sobbed and shook with the horror of the scene, and the agony of the thoughts it had conjured up. CHAPTER II. I hardly knew what to make of the weather, for though it blew very hard the wind was not so violent as it had been during those three days which I have written of in another part of this story. The ship managed to hold her own well, with her head at west; I mean that she went scraping through the water, making very little lee-way, and so far she could fairly well carry the three close-reefed topsails, though I believe that had another yard of canvas more than was already exposed been on her, she would have lain down and never righted again, so violent was the first clap and outfly of the wind. Nevertheless, I got the boatswain to take the wheel, and sent Cornish forward to stand by the fore-topsail sheets, whilst I kept by the mizzen, for I was not at all sure that the terrific thunder-storm that had broken over us was not the precursor of a hurricane, to come down at any moment on the gale that was already blowing, and wreck the ship out of hand. In this way twenty minutes passed, when finding the wind to remain steady, I sang out to Cornish that he might come aft again. As I never knew the moment when a vessel might heave in sight I bent on the small ensign and ran it half-way up at the gaff end, not thinking it judicious to exhibit a train of flag-signals in so much wind. I then took the telescope, and, setting it steady in the mizzen rigging, slowly and carefully swept the weather horizon, and afterwards transferred the glass to leeward, but no ship was to be seen. "We ought to be in the track o' some sort o' wessels, too," exclaimed the boatswain, who had been awaiting the result of my inspections. "The steamers from Liverpool to New Orleans, and the West Indie mail-ships 'ud come right across this way, wouldn't they?" "Not quite so far north," I answered. "But there ought to be no lack of sailing ships from all parts--from England to the southern ports of the United States and North America--from American ports to Rio and the eastern coast of South America. They cannot keep us long waiting. Something must heave in sight soon." "Suppose we sight a wessel, what do you mean to do, sir?" "Ask them to let me have a few men to work the ship to the nearest port." "But suppose they're short-handed?" "Then they won't oblige us." "I can't see myself, sir," said he, "why, instead o' tryin' to fetch Bermuda, we shouldn't put the helm up and square away for England. How might the English Channel lie as we now are?" "A trifle to the east'ard of north-east." "Well, this here's a fair wind for it." "That's true; but will you kindly remember that the ship's company consists of three men." "Of four, countin' the steward, and five, countin' Miss Robertson."