The captain was the last man from that boat to come over the side. I shook his hand, but had no time just then for conversation; a fact that he recognized at a glance, drawing a little way aft along the weather alley and leaving me alone. For everything had to be done at once, you know; these people saved, and my own ship looked after. We were in a ticklish position. With main yard aback, and every squall heavier than the last, we might easily get stern-way on and that would never do. I felt pretty confident of my gear aloft, but if anything carried away to hinder the handling of the sails, we should find ourselves in a pretty kettle of fish. Above all, I kept a sharp eye on the relative position of the burning steamer. Aback as we were, with so much canvas spread, we must, I thought, be drifting steadily down toward her; and it would be the end of us to run afoul of that inferno, or even to fall to leeward of her. Watching closely, I soon made out that we held our distance from the craft, or rather, that she held her distance from us; incredible as it seemed, she was drifting as fast as we were. I turned to her captain, calling his attention to this mystery. "Yes, I noticed it" said he "It seems to me that the sheet of flame must in some way be acting like an enormous sail. I can think of no other explanation" Neither could I—and I believe that he was right. She had been barque-rigged, as I said, and the foremast with its heavy yards, still standing, kept her head three or four points off the wind, so that she lay in the position of running free; her sides, too, were high, caught a lot of wind, and gave her headway. But the sheet of flame must have helped her progress. For here we were with a ship flying light, and sufficient canvas spread to drive us to leeward at a rate of four or five knots an hour, even with the main yard holding her dead. Too much canvas, in fact; the wind had begun to come with a new weight and no time afforded for proper seamanship. No time. We had taken in the royals before we reached the steamer; had clewed them up, but been obliged to leave them hanging, we’d ranged past her so rapidly. As we backed the main yard, we had let all three of the topgallant yards run down, and hauled down the flying jib. All these light sails were threshing and pounding aloft, while the men who should have furled them were busy saving life in the lee channels; the jib was slatting itself to pieces on the end of the jibboom. At that very moment, under ordinary conditions, we should have been housed down under reefed upper topsails. The captain of the steamer had been waiting for me to find a free moment. Now he pulled up beside me. "My name is Potter, Captain Clark" said he "I just heard your mate call you by name. It’s needless to say anything, sir, about what you are doing for us" "Yes" I answered "save that for the coffee. We haven’t got through the soup yet"