“It’s blowin a leetle mite too fresh,” said Captain Corbet to Bruce, “for to contennew on this course; so I’ll jest come round, an run afore it. Arter all, it’s the best course,--for it’s west, an had ought to fetch us up somewhar eventooly, though I ain’t got overly much confidence in this here compass.” “Compass! Why, what’s the matter with the compass?” asked Bruce. “Wal, yesterday at sunrise,” said Captain Corbet, in a gentle tone of regret, “I noticed that, accordin to the compass, the sun was a risin in the nothe, an that was agin natur. So I knowed that either the sun was wrong or the compass, and nat’r’ly concluded that it was the compass. So I jest examined it, an sure enough, I found the needle all rusted up; an I’m a leetle mite afeared it ain’t no more good, jest now, than a rusty nail. Consequently, I don’t feel like settin any very great confidence on her. Wal, for that matter, I never thought much of compasses, an don’t gen’rally go by them when I’m in old Fundy, though here-, abouts they might p’aps be some use.” At this fresh instance of Captain Corbet’s way of navigating, Bruce was so overwhelmed that he could not say a single word. A flush passed over his face. His lips parted as though he was about to speak; but he checked the rising remark, and walked forward, where he began to talk earnestly with the other boys. But suddenly their conversation was interrupted. There was a sharp crash, a wild flap, a dark shadow, and in an instant a large object floated away through the air on the wings of the wind, while the noise of flapping, snapping, and cracking still filled their ears. A hurried, startled glance showed them all. As the Antelope was coming round, a gust of wind more violent than usual had struck her. The old sails were too weak to stand it. The mainsail yielded utterly, and was torn clean off, and flung away upon the waters. The foresail had suffered but little less injury, for it had been torn completely asunder, and now showed a huge rent, while the two portions flapped wildly and furiously in the blast. “Wal,” said Captain Corbet, “ef--this--here--don’t--beat--all!” He was silent for a moment, and stood contemplating the ruin before him. “Wal,” he continued, drawing a long breath, “what’s got to be must be. I knowed it would come some day. You can’t fight agin the wind an storm for more’n seventeen year without feelin it; and these sails has been an had their day. I knowed it. I told you, boys, once--I dar say you mind the time--that them sails might be stronger, and that they wasn’t adapted to be hung on to a ship of a thousand ton. Still I did hope that they’d stand this here vyge.” “But what are we going to do now, captain?” asked Tom.