"She has done very well since you headed her up to the sea," he answered, without taking his gaze from the engine. "At one time I thought the sea would break in upon us and swamp the fires. It would have been all up with us then." "I felt so myself, and I headed her up to the sea when I saw that it was no longer safe to keep her on her course. But I suppose you want to turn in, Moses." "I, no; I am perfectly satisfied to keep my place here till morning," he replied. "I want Ben Bowman at the wheel, with Washburn. She steers so hard in this sea that we need to change hands every hour. But I hope we shall soon be able to relieve you," I added. "I don't have very hard work, and I can stand it very well till morning." I returned to the wheel-house. It was about two bells, or one in the morning. The tempest had not increased in the last hour, and I hoped we had seen the worst of it. We were working the engine just enough to keep the steamer's head up to the sea. The Sylvania behaved so well in her present position that I dismissed the port watch at two in the morning; but I could not think of turning in myself while there was any possibility of trouble ahead. I remained in the pilot-house with Washburn, while Buck Lingley was on the lookout on the hurricane-deck. We held our position till about four in the morning, when it was evident that the gale was breaking, though the sea was still very heavy. "Light on the port quarter," said Buck, at one of the small windows of the pilot-house in front of his station. I rushed over to the port side, but the windows were so covered with water that I could see nothing. It was raining hard, as it had been since midnight. I went on deck, grasping a life-line to keep me from being knocked over by the flood of water that flowed down from the forecastle. I reached the ladder and went up to the hurricane-deck. I supposed the light the lookout had seen was on some vessel. It was at least ten miles distant; and after a time I satisfied myself that it was a revolving light. It also flashed, and I was confident it was eight or ten miles distant. I was rather bewildered, for I had not expected to find a light in that direction. I hastened down to the pilot-house to consult the Coast Pilot. I reviewed the course we had followed after leaving the wrecked bark. By our reckoning we were about twenty miles to the southward of Carysfort Light when we headed the steamer to the eastward. We had kept the screw turning all the time, and I supposed we had been making some headway during the five hours we had been on this tack. What was the light, then? We were headed directly into the Bahama Islands, and I knew we had not gone far enough to place any light in those islands on our port quarter. The description in the book of Carysfort Light corresponded with what I had made out by observation. "We are about ten miles to the south-east of Carysfort Light," I said to Washburn, when I had satisfied myself of the fact.