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occur
which would require his immediate presence on deck. He was therefore
sitting up in his cabin, holding on as best he could, and attempting to
read--a task under all circumstances, considering that he had lost an eye,
and was not a very bright scholar, more difficult of accomplishment
than may be supposed. He had lost an arm, too, which made it difficult
for him to hold a book; besides, his book was large, and the printing
was not over clear, a fault common in those days; and the paper was a
good deal stained and injured from the effects of damp and hot climates.
He was aroused from his studies by a signal at the door, and the

entrance of one of the quartermasters.
"What is it, Pringle?" asked the Captain, looking up.
"Why, sir, Molly Freeborn is taken very bad, and the doctor says that
he thought you would like to know," was the answer. "He doesn't think
as how she'll get over it. Maybe, sir, you'd wish to see the poor
woman?"
"Certainly, yes; I'll go below and see her," answered the Captain in a
kind tone. "Poor Molly! But where is her husband--where is Freeborn?
It will be a great blow to him."
"It is his watch on deck, sir. No one liked to go and tell him. He could
do no good, and the best chance, the doctor said, was to keep Molly
quiet. But I suppose that they'll let him know now," answered the
quartermaster.
"Yes; do you go and find him, and take him below to his wife, and just
break her state gently to him, Pringle," said the Captain.
Captain Penrose stopped a moment to slip on his greatcoat, and to jam
a sou'wester tightly down over his head, before he left the cabin on his
errand of kindness, when a terrific clap was heard, louder than one of
thunder, and the ship seemed to quiver in every timber fore and aft. The
Captain sprang on deck, for the moment, in his anxiety for the safety of
his ship, forgetting his intention with regard to Molly Freeborn.
Poor Molly! There she lay in the sick-bay, which had been appropriated
to her use, gasping out her life amid the tumult and disturbance of that
terrific storm. She was one of three women allowed, in those days,
under certain circumstances, to be on board ship for the purpose of
acting as nurses to the sick, and of washing for the officers and men.
Her husband was captain of the maintop, and as gallant and fine a
seaman as ever stepped. Everybody liked and respected him.
But Molly was even a greater favourite. There was not a kinder-hearted,
more gentle, sensible, and judicious person in existence. No one had a

greater variety of receipts for all sorts of ailments, and no one could
more artistically cook dishes better suited to the taste of the sick. Most
of the officers, who had from time to time been ill and wounded,
acknowledged and prized her talents and excellencies; and the Captain
declared that he considered he owed his life, under Providence, entirely
to the care with which she nursed him through an attack of fever when
the doctor despaired of his life.
"All hands on deck!" was the order given as soon as the Captain saw
what had occurred. The main-topsail had been blown from the
boltropes, and the tattered remnants were now lashing and slashing
about in the gale, twisting into inextricable knots, and winding and
wriggling round the main-topsail yard, rendering it a work of great
danger to go out on it. The boatswain's whistle sounded shrilly through
the storm a well-known note. "All hands shorten sail!" was echoed
along the decks. "Rouse out there--rouse out--idlers and all on deck!"
Everybody knew that there was work to be done; indeed, the clap made
by the parting of the sail had awakened even the soundest sleepers.
Among the first aloft, who endeavoured to clear the yard of the
fragments of the sail, was William Freeborn, the captain of the maintop.
With knives and hands they worked away in spite of the lashing they
got, now being almost strangled, and now dragged off the yard.
The Captain resolved to heave the ship to. The wind had shifted, and if
they ran on even under bare poles, they would be carried on too much
out of their course. It was a delicate and difficult operation. A new
main-topsail had first to be bent. It took the united strength of the crew
to hoist it to the yard. At length the sail was got up and closely reefed,
hauled out, strengthened in every possible way to resist the fury of the
gale. It was an operation which occupied some time. The