The youngest—there were some as young as eight—were huddling against each other in fear.
"There is no danger," said Briant, wishing to give them confidence. "We are all right. Don't be afraid." Then holding a lighted lantern to the floor, he saw that some water was washing from side to side.
Whence came this water? Did it come from a leak? That must be ascertained at once.
Forward of the saloon was the day-saloon, then the dining-saloon, and then the crew's quarters.
Briant went through these in order, and found that the water had been taken in from the seas dashing over the bows, down the fore-companion, which had not been quite closed, and that it had been run aft by the pitching of the ship. There was thus no danger on this head.
Briant stopped to cheer up his companions as he went back through the saloon, and then returned to his place at the helm. The schooner was very strongly built, and had only just been re-coppered, so that she might withstand the waves for some time.
It was then about one o'clock. The darkness was darker than ever, and the dark clouds still gathered; and more furiously than ever raged the storm. The yacht seemed to be rushing through a liquid mass that flowed above, beneath, and around her. The shrill cry of the petrel was heard in the air. Did its appearance mean that land was near? No; for it is often met with hundreds of miles at sea. And, in truth these birds of the storm found themselves powerless to struggle against the aerial current, and by it were borne along like the schooner.
An hour later there was another report from the bow. What remained of the foresail had been split to ribbons and the strips flew off into space like huge seagulls.
"We have no sail left! " exclaimed Donagan; and it is impossible for us to set another."
"Well, it doesn't matter," said Briant. " We shall not get along so fast, that is all!"
