They had put in what Mark called “a big day,” and all were glad enough to go back to the steamer by nightfall. In the evening Cape Haytien is a dull place, poorly lighted, and with only a few amusements, and those usually of the commoner sort. But before coming away they listened to a number of natives who played guitars and sang, and the music was exceedingly sweet. The following day found the _Clarissa_ leaving the harbor and turning eastward for Porto Rico. So far the weather had been fine, but now the sky began to cloud over, showing that a tropical storm was approaching. “I hope we don’t catch much of it,” said Frank to Darry. “I’ve had enough of that sort of thing.” “I should like to see a little storm, and that at night,” answered Darry. “A little storm at night? What for?” “So I can pay Hockley for the trick he played us.” “But I don’t understand, Darry.” “You will understand, if the storm comes,” answered the light-hearted lad, but would say no more. A little later Frank met Sam and Mark and told them of what Darry had said. “He’s got something up his sleeve,” said Mark. “Well, we promised to let him have his inning first, so let him do as he pleases.” By nightfall the storm was close at hand and the rain kept them in the cabin. There was considerable wind, but the officers of the ship assured the passengers that there was no danger. Hockley read for an hour and then declared his intention of going to bed. He had hardly disappeared when Darry followed, but first told his chums to watch for fun. It was raining hard when Hockley turned in. Truth to tell the rolling and pitching of the ship had made him somewhat sick and he had retired partly to avoid the others, for he knew they might laugh at him. But he was a good sleeper and soon he was slumbering soundly. In the meantime Darry was not idle. From a stateroom he obtained a large basin of water. Then he hunted up a couple of cheap glass tumblers and placed them in the foot of an old sock. Thus armed he crept to Hockley’s door. It was unfastened, and the snoring of the lank youth told him that the time was ripe for what he intended to do. Bang! the door flew open with a crash, arousing Hockley on the instant. As he sat up in the berth a dash of water landed on his head and ran down his spinal column. Then came a crash of glass that made him jump. “All hands on deck!” he heard a hoarse voice cry. “The ship is sinking!” And then came another crash of glass and more water hit him in the face. Confused, and almost scared out of his wits, the bully gave one bound that took him half way across the stateroom floor. He caught up his trousers and slipped them on. “We are going down!” he groaned. “Oh, why did I ever leave land!” And then, as the steamer gave a lurch, he caught up the rest of his clothing and made for the corridor, down which he bolted like lightning and up the stairs leading to the main deck. Reaching this he glared around, blinking in the light.