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 wind, the foam-crested billows clashed together, in the wildest uproar, every moment; the waves grew higher, and the "Great Eastern," cutting through them, pitched frightfully.

"There are but two courses now to choose from," said the Doctor, with the self-possession of a seaman, "either to put the ship's head on to the waves, working with a minimum speed, or take flight and give up the struggle with this baffling sea; but Captain Anderson will do neither one thing nor the other."

"And why not?" I asked.

"Because—" replied the doctor, "because something must happen."

Turning round, I saw the Captain, the first officer, and the chief engineer, muffled in their macintoshes, and clutching at the railings of the bridge; they were enveloped in spray from head to foot. The Captain was smiling as usual, the first officer laughed, and showed his white teeth, at the sight of the ship pitching enough to make one think the masts and chimneys were coming down.

Nevertheless I was really astonished at the Captain's obstinacy. At half-past seven, the aspect of the Atlantic was terrible; the sea swept right across the deck at the bows. I watched this grand sight; this struggle between the giant and the billows, and to a certain extent I could sympathize with the Captain's wilfulness; but I was