And, as I said, the maiden let him have his way; and there she stood, as night closed, erect and steadfast, with her hands on the tiller and her brave face set seaward.
'Twas a fearful night of shrieking wind and thundering wave.

Often and often as the brave _Misericorde_ reared and hung suspended on a wave's crest, we knew none of us if she would ever reach the next.

Lucky for us we were a flush-decked ship and our hatches sound, for the seas that poured over us would have filled us to the brim in an hour.

Lucky, too, the Frenchman's cargo had been snugly stowed, or we should have been on our beam-ends before midnight.

Half-way through the night, there was a loud crack and over went our main top-mast with her sails in ribbons.
We had scarce time, at great peril, to cut her away, when another burst snapped our mizzen almost at the deck.
"That lightens us still more," said Ludar.