Scarcely had she done so, when the fore-top sail blew out of the bolt ropes, with a report that was heard even above the howl of the tempest.
"It's done its work," Bill shouted in Reuben's ear.

"I thought she was gone.

Just a little more, and she would have turned turtle." The captain had used almost precisely the same words to the first officer, adding: "She will do now, but we shall have to try to get a little more head sail on her, when the sea gets up.

Call some of the hands aft, and get this try sail down.

She yaws so, now the fore-top sail's gone, there is no steering her." This was soon done and, under bare poles, the storm jib now the only sail upon her, the Paramatta tore through the water.