How's the wind ?" said the master, throwing his feet outside the standing bedplace, as he sat up.
"N.W., veering to N.N.W.in the squalls.

We have lost good ten miles since yesterday evening, and are close to Dudden Sands," replied Newton.
"I think we must bear up, for the gale shows no signs of breaking." "Well, I'll be on deck in a moment, my boy," rejoined Thompson, who was now quite himself again, and was busy putting on his shoes, the only articles which had been removed when he turned in.

"Go you up, and see that they keep her clean, full and bye--and those casks well secured .-- Dudden Sands--awkward place, too--but I've not been forty years a-boxing about this coast for nothing." In a minute Thompson made his appearance on deck, and steadying himself by the weather topmast backstay, fixed his leaden eyes upon the land on the quarter.--"All right, younker, that's the head, sure enough;" then turning his face to the wind, which lifted up his grey curling locks, and bore them out horizontally from his fur cap, "and it's a devil of a gale, sure enough .-- It may last a month of Sundays for all I know .-- Up with the helm, Tom .-- Ease off the main sheet, handsomely, my lad--not too much.

Now, take in the slack, afore she jibes;" and the master ducked under the main boom and took his station on the other side of the deck.

"Steady as you go now .-- Newton, take the helm .-- D'ye see that bluff ?--keep her right for it.