36 THE CRATER; CHAPTER III. " God of the dark and heavy deep ! The waves lie sleeping on the sands, Till the fierce trumpet of the storm Hath summon d up their thundering bands; Then the white sails are dashed like foam, Or hurry trembling o er the seas, Till calmed by thee, the sinking gale Serenely breathes, Depart in peace." PEABODT. THE day that preceded the night of which we are about to speak, was misty, with the wind fresh at east-south east. The Rancocus was running off, south-west, and con sequently was going with the wind free. Captain Crutch- ely had one failing, and it was a very bad one for a ship master ; he would clrink rather too much grog, at his dinner. At all other times he might have been called a sober man ; but, at dinner, he would gulp down three or four glasses of rum and water. In that day rum was much used in America, far more than brandy; and every dinner-table, that had the smallest pretension to be above that of the mere labouring man, had at least a bottle of one of these liquors on it. Wine was not commonly seen at the cabin- table ; or, if seen, it was in those vessels that had recently been in the vine-growing countries, and on special occa sions. Captain Crutchely was fond of the pleasures of the table in another sense. His eating was on a level with his drinking ; and for pigs, and poultry, and vegetables that would keep at sea, his ship was always a little remark able. On the day in question, it happened to be the birthday of Mrs. Crutchely, and the captain had drunk even a little more than common. Now, when a man is in the habit of drinking rather more than is good for him, an addition of a little more than common is very apt to upset him. Such, in sober truth, was the case with the commander of the
