the idea that he was poisoned grew upon todd each moment, and to such a man, it was truly terrific to think that he should come to so fearful an end.

"help! help!" he groaned; but after all, it was only a groan and not a cry—not that that mattered; for if he had had the lungs of ten men all concentrated in his own person, and had so been able to cry out with a superhuman voice, it would have been most completely lost amid the roar of the wind, and the wild dashing of the waves.

the storm was certainly increasing.

"oh, this sickness!" groaned todd. "oh, dear—oh, dear!"

at the moment that he was so bad that, in his want of experience of what sea sickness really was, he thought every moment would be his last, he heard some one coming down into the cabin, and one of the crew rolled rather than walked into it.

"help!" said todd; "oh, help!"

"you go to the d—l!" said the man. "the captain is washed overboard, and we are all going to the bottom, so i am one who likes to take a little spirits with him to qualify the water that one may be obliged to swallow. that's it. steady, craft, steady."

practised as this man no doubt was in the art of keeping his footing upon an undulating surface, the pitching of the ship was so tremendous, that even he was thrown to the cabin floor with considerable violence, and had no easy task to rise again.

"no!" cried todd, finding that positive fright lent him strength, "you do not mean that?"

"mean what, you old sinner?"

"that we shall be lost?"

the man nodded, and having opened a little cupboard, he brought out a little bladder of spirits, and placing it to his lips, he drank a large quantity, while he held by the cupboard door to keep himself from falling.

"that will do," he said, as he dropped the bladder to the floor, and then, after several unsuccessful efforts to do so, he scrambled upon deck again.

"i, too, will drink," said todd; "oh, yes, i will drink. i feel that if anything will give me strength to bear the horrors of the night, it will be my old and well-tried friend, brandy."

he cast his eyes upon the bladder of spirits that the sailor had thrown to the floor. the spirit was slowly weltering out of the bladder, and running in a stream across the cabin. as the odour of it saluted the nose of todd, he exclaimed,—

"it is brandy! i must and will have some!"

it was all very well for todd to say that he must and would have some of the brandy, but the difficulty of getting at it was one by no means easy to surmount. he recollected what a job he had to get into his berth again upon the occasion that he had got out of it before, and he dreaded to place himself in a similar predicament; yet he found the vessel was more steady, although the wind had not at all abated. yes, it certainly was more steady.

"i will try," said todd. "i must have some."

with a determination, then, to get at the choice liquor, which was wasting what todd considered its sweetness upon the cabin floor, he slid out of his little bed-place, and the ship giving a sudden roll in a trough of the sea, he fell sprawling to the floor.

"oh, i shall be killed!" he yelled. "this frightful voyage will be the death of me! it is too terrible! oh, heaven! it is much too terrible! help!—mercy!"

todd lay upon his back on the cabin floor, with his arms and legs stretched out like a gigantic st. andrew's cross. something touched his hand; it was the bladder of brandy, that, as the ship rolled, had moved towards him. he clutched it with a feeling of despair, and brought it to his lips.

with the exception of about half a pint, the brandy had made its way on to the cabin floor; but it was strong, pure spirit—such brandy, in fact, as smugglers might well reserve for their own private drinking; so that the half pint was a very tolerable dose to take at once, and todd drained it to the last drop.

"better!" he said; "oh, yes, i am better, now."

the fumes of the strong spirit mounted to his brain, and got the better, for the time, of that frightful feeling of sickness which had been so like death, that todd had mistaken it for the last pangs that he was likely to feel in this world.

"oh, yes, i am better. how the wind howls now, and how the waves dash the ship hither and thither. the deck, yes, the deck will be the place for me. oh, gracious! what was that?"

a loud crash, and a scream from some drowning wretches who had gone overboard along with a mast, had broken upon his ears. terror sat at his very heart, and unable any longer to endure the frightful suspense of being below, he tried, upon his hands and knees, to crawl upon the deck.

by no other mode could todd have had the slightest hope or expectation of reaching the deck of that fated vessel, but as he tried it, he did, after a time, succeed in dragging himself up from the cabin. the sea was washing over the deck, and for a few moments he could see no one. he watched for a lull in the wind, and then he cried—

"help! help! oh, help!"

"who's that?" shouted a voice.

"i!" said todd.

"go to blazes, then!"

"oh, how kind!" groaned todd. "how very considerate at such a time as this, too."

the wind that had lulled for a few moments, now came with a frightful gush, and todd was glad to find the fragments of a quantity of cordage, belonging to some of the top parts of the mast that had gone overboard, to cling to till the gust had passed over the ship. then there came some tons of salt water over him, and he was nearly bereft of the power of breathing.

"oh, this is dreadful!" he said. "this is truly dreadful!"

"hands off!" growled a voice. "everybody for himself here. hands off, i say."

"what do you mean?" said todd. "do you speak to me?"

the voice had sounded close to him; and now again, with an angry tone, it cried—

"some one has got hold of my leg!"

"oh, i dare say i have," said todd, "but i didn't know. there, i have left go. who are you, sir, eh?"

"oh! don't bother!"

"well, but is there any danger?"

"danger! i rather think there is. i suppose you are the love of a passenger that the captain brought on board?"

"yes, i am the passenger," said todd. why he should be called a love of a passenger he did not exactly know; but he repeated his question concerning the condition of the ship; and at the next lull of wind, for it came now very strangely in gusts, he got a not very consolatory reply.

"why, as to danger," said the man, "that's rather past, i reckon; but, perhaps, you are a landsman, and have not yet thoroughly made up your mind."

"to what?"

"to be drowned, some day or night, as i have."

"oh, no—no! don't say that. drowning is a very dreadful death, indeed. i am sure it is."

"it may, or it may not be so," said the man, "but whether it is or not, you and i are very likely soon to find out, for the old craft is going at last."

"going?"

"yes. it's all up with her, and it will soon be all down with her, likewise."

"but the ship goes easier through the sea."

"oh, ah, she's filling, you see, and settling lower down in the water, so you can't have quite so much pitching and tossing as you had an hour ago, hardly."

"you can't mean that? you do not mean to tell me that there is no hope? oh, say not so!"

"well, you can please yourself. i can tell you that the rudder has gone.—we have not a mast standing. there is already five feet of water in the hold, and we are drifting as hard as we can upon a lee-shore, so if you can make anything satisfactory out of that, i leave you to do it."

"did you say we were drifting to shore?"

"a lee-shore."

"oh, dear. i'm glad to hear it. any shore will do for me, if i can but get out of this confounded ship. what is that afar off? is it a light? oh, yes, it is a light."

"it is. we are on the sussex coast, somewhere, but i can't take upon myself to say where; but it don't matter a bit, for we shall go to pieces long before we reach the surf, and then in such a sea as this you might as well try to swallow the channel at a few draughts as to swim."

"but i can't swim at all."

"it don't matter a bit."

"but, my dear friend—"

"hold your row—i am not your dear friend nor anybody else's, just now. i tell you we shall be all drowned, and the best thing you can do, is to take it as easy as possible. what can be the good of making a fuss about it?"

this information was to todd of so deplorable a character—for to none is death so terrible as to the guilty—that he wept aloud and screamed with terror as the spray of the sea struck him on the face, and the wind roared and whistled over him.

"oh, no—no!" he cried. "i cannot die yet—i must not. spare me—spare me! i am afraid to die!"

"oh, you stupid," said the sailors. "that comes now of not having had a proper sort of education. i make no doubt but your howling will pretty soon be put an end to."

the situation of the ship was undoubtedly one of the greatest possible peril. having by the violence of the tempest lost all her masts, and having had her rudder torn away, she was quite at the mercy of the winds and the waves; and the set of the sea, as well as the direction of the wind, carried her sometimes stern foremost and at other times head foremost, and at times broadside, on to the coast of sussex, upon which the lights were at intervals dimly visible through the thick haze of the storm.

it was truly a dreadful night, and such as fully merited the worst apprehensions of the sailor, who had spoken so coolly to todd of his coming fate.

there was but one chance for those on board of the vessel, and that was that the wind might abate sufficiently to enable some boats to put off from the sussex coast, provided they happened to be off a part of it where such accommodation was to be had, and rescue those upon the wreck. the lights that at intervals were visible, rather favoured the supposition that it was a populous part of the coast that the ill-starred struggling ship was driving fast upon.

todd, however, did not know of that slender hope, and he gave himself up to despair.

to a landsman nothing could exceed the real horrors of the scene on board the ship, and, indeed, to one well accustomed to the sea, there was quite enough to produce much terror. all but three persons connected with the working of the ship had been washed overboard during the gale. both of the men with whom todd had had the meeting in the cart were at the bottom of the sea, and all their struggles and smugglings were over. todd did not know that, though.

it was quite evident to practical observers that the gale was abating, for it no longer was so steady and so continuous a wind that blew with fury over the fated ship; and although the sea still ran high, it did not break over the vessel with such thundering impetuosity.

a very faint glow of daylight, too, began to come over the sea.

if todd had had mind enough left to look about him now, he would have seen that there was some food for hope, although not much; but the fact was, that he had so thoroughly made up his mind that all was lost, that he did not look for consolation.

how poor and how miserable appeared to him, at this moment, all his struggles for wealth—that wealth, for the attainment of which he had struggled through such gigantic crimes! how much happier, he could not help thinking, it would have been for him to have gone on all his life in plodding industry, than to endeavour as he had done to find a short road to fortune, and only to end in finding a short one to death.

one of the seamen cried out in a loud voice—

"save themselves who can! we shall be on shore, now, in less than five minutes! we are all going now as safe as nuts!"