Hamblin, turning on his heel.

"There's a big squall coming, your honor," added Cleats, loud enough for the professor to hear him. "The boat wouldn't live a minute in it."

"I am not afraid of the squall," replied the learned gentleman, pausing. "Will you row the boat?"

"No, sir; I would rather not," answered Cleats, shaking his head.

At this moment a heavy roaring, rushing sound came over the sea from the direction of the land. The water was covered with a dense white mist. The sound increased in volume till it vied with the booming thunder, and the surface of the sea was lashed into a snowy foam by the coming tempest.

"Down with the jib and mainsail!" shouted Captain Kendall, sharply.

"Stand by the mainsail halyards!" said Terrill, through his speaking trumpet. "Man the jib halyards and downhaul!"

"All ready, sir," replied the second lieutenant, forward; for all hands were still at their stations, in anticipation of the emergency.

"All ready, sir," added the fourth lieutenant, whose place was on the quarter-deck.

"Let go the mainsail halyards!" added the first lieutenant; and the order was repeated by the fourth lieutenant. "Down with it, lively!"

The heavy sail, assisted by twenty pairs of willing and eager hands, rattled down in an instant, and was speedily secured.

"Let go the jib halyards! Haul down!" said the second lieutenant, on the forecastle, when the order to take in the jib reached him.

The hands "walked away" with the downhaul, and the jib was on the bowsprit in an instant.

"Lay out and stow the jib!" added the officer. "Mind your eye there! The squall is upon us!"

The roar of the squall—heard at first miles away—swept along over the ocean, carrying a tempest of foam and spray before it, and came down upon the Josephine. Though she carried no sail, the force of the wind was enough to heel her down, while the spray leaped over her decks in the furious blast. The scene was grand and sublime. The thunders roared; the lightnings seemed to hiss in their fury, as they darted through the moist atmosphere; and the wind, hardly less than a hurricane, howled in unison with the booming thunderbolts.

At first, on the long swells of the ocean, which a moment before had been as smooth and glassy as a mirror, thousands of little white-capped waves gathered, throwing up volumes of fine spray, which was borne away by the tempest; so that the air was laden with moisture. Though the squall came heavy in the beginning, it did not attain its full power for several minutes. The effect even of the onslaught of the tempest was tremendous, and officers and crew clung to the rigging and the wood-work of the vessel, fearful that the savage blast would take them bodily from their feet, and bear them away into the angry ocean.

"Down with the helm!" roared Captain Kendall to the quartermaster, who, with four of the strongest seamen, had been stationed at the wheel.

The action of the fierce wind upon the vessel's side was powerful enough to give her steerage-way without any sail, and her head came up to the gale, so that she took the blast on her port bow. Thus far, the effect upon the ocean did not correspond with the violence of the tempest; for even the severest blow does not immediately create a heavy sea. But, if the tempest continued even for a few minutes, this result was sure to follow. There is no especial peril in a squall, if the seaman has had time to take in sail, unless in a heavy sea; but it does not take long for a hurricane, in the open ocean, to stir up the water to its maddest fury.

Professor Hamblin was walking up and down in the waist,—a very pretty type of the squall itself,—when the initial stroke of the tempest came upon the Josephine. His "stove-pipe" hat, as non-nautical as anything could be, which he persisted in wearing, was tipped from his head, and borne over the rail into the sea. This accident did not improve his temper, and he was on the point of asking the captain to send a boat to pick up his lost tile, when the full force of the squall began to be expended upon the vessel. He found himself unable to stand up; and he reeled to the mainmast, where Professor Stoute was already moored to the fife-rail.

"Wouldn't you like the boat now, Mr. Hamblin?" chuckled the jolly professor, hardly able to speak without having his words blown down his throat.

"I've lost my hat," growled the learned gentleman, almost choked with ill-nature within, and the ill-wind without.

"Ask the captain to send a boat for it," laughed Mr. Stoute. "There he stands! Upon my word, he is a wonder to me! He handles the vessel like an old admiral who has been imbedded in salt for forty years!"

"Any boy could do it!" snarled the irate professor.

"It is fortunate that Captain Kendall went on deck when he did," added Mr. Stoute. "We should all have gone to the bottom if they hadn't taken in sail in season."

"You distress yourself with mighty bugbears," sneered Mr. Hamblin. "I am very sorry to see you encouraging insubordination among your pupils, and—"

And a blast more savage than any which had before struck the vessel ended the professor's speech; for, while it drenched him with salt water, it gave him all he wanted to do to hold on for his life. He worked himself round under the lee of the mainmast, and held on with both hands at the fife-rail, his breath blown down into his lungs by the wind.

The squall was not one of those which come and go in a few moments; and, in a short time, the sea had been lashed into a boiling, roaring, foam-capped maelstrom. The Josephine rolled and pitched most fearfully. Below there was a fierce crashing of everything movable, while the winds howled a savage storm-song through the swaying rigging. By the captain's order, the crew had, with great difficulty, extended several life-lines across the deck, for the safety of those who were compelled to move about in executing the various manœuvres which the emergency required.

The angry professor began to cool off under the severe regimen of the tempest. He was drenched to the skin by the spray, and it required the utmost activity on his part to enable him to keep his hold upon the fife-rail. Now the vessel rolled, and pitched him upon his moorings; and then rolled again, jerking him, at arm's length, away from them, his muscles cracking under the pressure. Professor Stoute, determined to be on the safe side, had passed the end of the lee topgallant brace around his body, and secured himself to one of the belaying pins. Nothing ever disturbed his equanimity, and though he was doubtless fully impressed by the sublimity of the storm, he was just as jolly and good-natured as ever.

The captain and the executive officer were holding on at one of the life-lines on the quarter-deck. Paul looked as noble and commanding as though he had been a foot taller, with a full beard grown upon his face. He appeared to be master of the situation, and Professor Stoute regarded him with an admiration strongly in contrast with the disgust of his fellow-teacher. The competent captain of the ship is always little less than a miracle of a man to his passengers, especially in a storm, when he is confident and self-reliant. They feel that everything—their very lives, and the lives of those they love—are dependent upon him, and they look up to him as to an oracle of skill and wisdom.

"It's coming heavier and heavier," said Terrill, as the Josephine gave a fearful lurch.

"Ay, ay! It's nothing less than a hurricane," replied Paul.

"It's the biggest squall I ever was in," added Terrill, blowing the salt water out of his mouth, after a pint of spray had slapped him in the face.

"It