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Updated: May 9, 2025


"`Who can paint like Nature?" said a voice at my elbow, while an arm was slid quietly within my own, and I found myself joined by young Raleigh, a fellow-mid and by all accounts a scion of the same family as the renowned Sir Walter "what mortal brush could hope to emulate the exquisite softness, delicacy, richness, and power of those tints which have just faded out of the picture before us, or what artist could adequately express the quiet, dreamy beauty of the present scene?

"That's one to us; we draw first blood," chuckled a voice behind me; and I looked round to observe young Harvey, a fellow-mid, rubbing his hands with an air of great satisfaction. "Hard up with your helm," exclaimed the skipper; "shiver your main- topsail and let her wear short round; stand by your guns there on the starboard broadside, and fire as you bring each to bear."

Ryan, Pierrepoint, and I were all standing close together near the companion at the moment when the lightning flashed out, illumining the whole scene for an instant with a light as brilliant as that of the noonday sun, and while I was still in process of recovering from the shock produced by the terrifying crash of the thunder, I heard my fellow-mid exclaim to the captain

Then, some three-quarters of an hour later, came the jolly-boat in charge of the boatswain; and finally the dinghy, carrying four hands and in charge of my friend and fellow-mid, Jack Keene, turned up close upon midnight. Long ere this, however, we had each in succession spoken the launch, reporting the distance that we had traversed up to sunset.

You surely do not feel sea- sick, do you?" exclaimed Courtenay. "Sea-sick! oh, no!" said the lad. "I got over all that long ago." "Ah, indeed!" remarked my fellow-mid in his usual off-hand manner. "And, pray, what may `long ago' mean? Last voyage, or the voyage before three months ago six months a year?" "More nearly two years ago, senor.

I was parched with thirst, which was increased by the sound of a man drinking eagerly at no great distance from me, and, turning my head painfully in the direction of the sound, I saw Jack Keene, a fellow-mid., administering drink out of a tin pannikin to a man whom I presently recognised as Nugent, the master's mate, who, poor fellow, seemed to be pretty near his last gasp.

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