order to “reef topsails” was heard, followed by the rattling of blocks, the flapping of sails, and the loud cheers of the sailors, as they plied their dangerous trade aloft. The double-reefed topsails were soon set, the yards braced sharp up, and the ship stood away to the westward, throwing thick sprays over her bow, and trembling from stem to stern, as she plunged heavily into the sea, and, rising again, poured whole torrents of water from her head. Philip felt an excitement he had never before experienced, as he gazed on the scene around him. The wild, threatening sky; the angry waves, like wild beasts lashing themselves into fury; the gradually-freshening gale, howling as if in search of its prey; and the moon herself—the mild, placid moon—scowling down upon the turmoil below, with a frown upon her brow—all united to form a picture of gloom and desolation, which accorded well with his own feelings. He stayed on deck till near the end of the first watch, and was just going down to his cabin, when the second mate, whose watch it was, said to him— “You must be cold and wet, Mr Morton. If you will wait a few minutes, till I am relieved, I shall be glad of your company in my cabin, to smoke a cigar over a glass of grog, for it is of little use turning in. This night’s work is not over yet, or I’m much mistaken.” “Thank you,” replied Morton; “I shall be happy to join you.” As soon as the deck was relieved, they dived below, to the snugly fitted-up cabin of the second mate, where they soon forgot the clouds above, while enveloped in clouds of their own raising below. “It is the fashion, Mr Morton,” said Hardy, the officer, “among many of the sticklers for propriety, to rail at the use of what they have no relish for themselves, and to denounce smoking as a low and ungentlemanly practice; but, in spite of all their squeamish objections, I know nothing more soothing and refreshing, after a night of toil and excitement like this, than a mild and genuine Havannah. Surely Nature would not be so lavish of her blessings, if it had not been intended that we were to enjoy them in moderation. “Ah! I thought so—no rest for the wicked,” continued he, starting up, as the shrill pipe of the boatswain rose far above the noise of the storm; “there it is! ‘All hands down top-gallant masts and yards!’ Finish your cigar, Mr Morton, and douce the glim when you have done. I must be off.” “I will go, too,” said Morton; “I am too much excited to sleep.” The night was now pitch dark, the wind had increased to a strong gale, and the ship was rolling “gunnels to,” in the long heavy sea; bright flashes of lightning, every now and then, threw a momentary glare over the gloomy heavens, and the thunder rolled in loud and long-continued peals.