"We are running before it as hard as we can with only our bare sticks showing, for the vessel won't stand a rag of sail; so, it is utterly impossible to lay to and brave it out." "Quite so, sir," responded the other.

"All we can do is to carry on and trust to running out of it into calm weather.

We ought to have made a long stretch to the southwards by now." "So we have, Jackson," said Captain Miles.

"We're now, I fancy, pretty well back where we lay so long in the calm, although perhaps a trifle more to the eastwards; but, if we run on much further, I'm sure I don't know where we'll bring up!" There the conversation ended and I went off to sleep soon afterwards, although the creaking of the timbers and roar of the sea sounded terrific, making noise enough to drown the sound of everything else.

I couldn't hear a footstep on the deck above me--all was hushed but the terrible turmoil of the elements.
I got up about six o'clock.