We sailed a few days afterwards with a convoy for Bombay and China, but destined to cruise ourselves in the neighbourhood of the Cape of Good Hope. We had not quitted port more than a week, when we encountered a very severe gale. It was the first time I had beheld the sea in such commotion, and the spectacle was awfully grand. The noble ship was borne like a weed upon the ocean at the mercy of the tempest, which howled through the rigging so as to deaden the shouts of the seamen while furling the heavy sails upon the yards. Billow after billow beat over us, and as the rolling waves dashed up their frothy crests to heaven, roaring in the wildness of their fury, I could not help thinking how different the noise was from the comparison of my poor mother, when she heard the rain patter into the water-butt. The convoy, too, heavy-laden Indiamen and transports with troops, were scattered in every direction; but now and then we could distinguish one or two, as they appeared for a moment on the summit of the foaming surge, like dim specks upon the verge of the horizon. Night came and brought its frowning horrors; a pitchy darkness which seemed almost palpable to the touch, hung with a funeral gloom above, whilst the wild waves, lashed by the raging tempest into sparkling foam, served but to render the blackness of the heavens more dense and horrible. At the commencement of the gale the wind was dead against us, and the ship was hove-to under a close-reefed main-topsail; but towards midnight the wind veered in our favour, and we flew through the liquid element with astonishing rapidity. The shifting of the gale had produced a still wilder commotion in the waves, which seemed to be struggling for the mastery. Wave after wave came raging after us and threatening to ingulf the frigate; but, like a bird upon the wing, the gallant vessel lifted to the swell and rushed down the steep abyss, tracking her path with brilliancy and light. I cannot say but the spectacle rather terrified me, and more than once I wished the “red flag at the fore” at the-- “Stop,” says the reader, “and do not conclude the sentence.” But really, gentle reader, I must; for I was merely going to say that I wished the “red flag at the fore” at the mast-head, and myself snug in my own little bed-room with my poor mother to tie my night-cap, and to tuck me in.