Most of her rigging was gone, huge holes had been smashed in her hull, half of her crew had been killed and half of the rest were wounded, there were not enough men to work her even were she whole and the weather the best.

As the crest of every wave passed she wallowed in the trough of the sea, and shipped water steadily.

The exultant look passed from the captain's eyes.
"I'm afraid you're a lad of ill omen, Peter," he said to Robert.

"I had you on board another ship once and she went to pieces.

It looks now as if my good schooner were headed the same way." A dark sailor standing near heard him, and nodded in approval, but Robert said: "Blame the sloop of war, not me.