now lying in the trough of the waves, shook and rolled terribly; the sea struck her with fearful violence. At night the tempest increased in violence. John Bunsby saw the approach of darkness and the rising of the storm with dark misgivings. He thought awhile, and then asked his crew if it was not time to slacken speed. After a consultation he approached Mr. Fogg, and said, "I think, your honour, that we should do well to make for one of the ports on the coast."
"I think so too."
"Ah!" said the pilot. "But which one?"
"I know of but one," returned Mr. Fogg tranquilly.
"And that is—"
"Shanghai."
The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend; he could scarcely realize so much determination and tenacity. Then he cried, "Well—yes! Your honour is right. To Shanghai!"
So the "Tankadere" kept steadily on her northward track.
The night was really terrible; it would be a miracle if the craft did not founder. Twice it could have been all over with her if the crew had not been constantly on the watch. Aouda was exhausted, but did not utter a complaint. More than once Mr. Fogg rushed to protect her from the violence of the waves.
Day reappeared. The tempest still raged with undi-
