The Sylvania was rolling on her new course at a frightful rate, and our deck was deluged with water every moment. The gale seemed to be increasing rather than diminishing, and I was not sure how long we could stand such a tumbling about as we were getting. With no little difficulty and exertion we got a reefed foresail up, which steadied her very much. I went down into the cabin, where I had sent the ladies from the wreck. I found our passengers propped up in such ways as they could devise to keep from being hurled across the cabin floor at each roll of the vessel. The strangers seemed to be quite at home, and were relating their adventures to the other ladies, who were listening with so much interest that they appeared to have forgotten the Sylvania was laboring in a very heavy sea. I saw that I was not wanted there. I went on deck, and found that the sailors from the wreck were stowed away in the dryest places they could find. I invited them all down into the forward cabin, and assigned the mate to the spare berth there. The others must sleep on the floor, for we could do nothing better for them. "Mr. Mate, where is your captain?" I asked. "I don't think he came below, sir. He is feeling very badly about the loss of his vessel," replied the mate. "I will try to find him." He went on deck with me, and we found him coiled away under the topgallant forecastle. I invited him to come into the pilot-house, and he followed me thither. "I am sorry for your misfortune, Captain," I said, when he had seated himself abaft the wheel. "It is a sorry night for me. My vessel is lost, and I have not the least idea how it happened," he replied, very sadly. I did my best to comfort him. I saw that he was quite as much exhausted by his mental sufferings as by his physical exertions. I conducted him to my state-room, and gave him my berth. In a short time he was asleep. CHAPTER XIII. A NIGHT LOST IN THE STORM. At eleven o'clock we changed the course of the Sylvania to south-west half-west, which brought the gale nearly on the beam. The wind was blowing but little, if anything, short of a hurricane. The great billows struck against the side of the vessel and the house on deck with tremendous force. It seemed just as though immense boulders were hurled against the planking that enclosed my state-room, the galley, and the engine-room. The sea swept over the hurricane-deck, and struck heavily upon the planks overhead. Suddenly I heard a noise over my head, as I stood at the wheel, which sounded like the report of a heavy cannon. I thought the sea had broken a hole through. In another instant the steamer was rolling with double the violence of a few minutes before. "What was that noise, Hop?" I asked, when I saw that no water was pouring down upon us.