Seeing the ship much pressed, a midshipman with six men, were sent to take in the staysails, by which the ship was eased considerably. The wind, by this time, had risen to a perfect hurricane; the rain fell in torrents, and the sea-birds were screaming and fluttering about the rigging, as if seeking for shelter from the wind; the sea, likewise, had risen prodigiously, and the ship, groaning and weltering at every plunge, seemed to be cracking at every timber, whilst the creaking of the guns and the rattling of the blocks greatly increased the uproar and confusion. “Surely some hag is dead to-night, it blows so desperately,” said Clark, coming aft to where Harry was standing; “but, as the ship makes good weather on this reach, as she is nearly bow on to the sea, it may be as well to keep her on this tack during the night.” “O sirs,” said the carpenter, coming up with a face as long as his arm, “the ship is sinking, and we shall all go to the bottom.” “What’s the matter?” said Harry. “The ship has sprung a leak in the powder-magazine, and the water is pouring in like a sluice.” “Hang your long phiz!” said an old grim fellow of a quartermaster, standing by the main-chains; “why don’t you go and stop it, then?” “Do you, Clark,” said Harry, “go down and see what is the matter; and do you, carpenter, get your crew and man the weather pump.” “There is a leak, indeed,” said Clark, returning; “but nothing to make a work about.” “An ugly sea that!” said the old quartermaster; “that greenhorn at the helm has wet me into the skin. You rascal, why don’t you ease the ship into the sea? If you carry on in that manner, you will soon send us all to another place of worship.” “Do you intend, sir,” said he, addressing himself to Harry, “to stand long on this tack?” “Yes,” replied Harry; “the ship will labour less on this tack than on the other; and besides, it is best to get as much sea-room as possible.” “Had we not better run into the Fairway?” said the quartermaster; “we are sure of getting shelter under the Big Fern; and I know the coast well, for I was brought up in these parts.” “That’s a good idea,” observed Harry. “But a lee-shore is a dangerous place in a stormy night,” added Clark. “Oh, never fear the lee-shore—I’ll pilot you in safety; besides, the lights will direct us.” “Very well,” said Harry; “as the wind does not at all seem inclined to take off, we had better do as you say; and do you, Clark, take some men and clew up the foresail. Keep her away, my lad,” shouted he to the man at the wheel. “So, so—steady. Ready there with the boom-foresail halyards.” “All ready, sir.” “Then boom away, my lads; get the trysail down too, and we’ll run under double-reefed topsails alone.” The ship was much eased by this diminution of canvass, and ran much steadier than might have been expected, only occasionally shipping a little sea over the weather bow.