Excerpt: ...rigging, passed close be- hind me. "What's the matter?" I asked. "The wind has changed," he answered, adding something which I could not hear distinctly, but which sounded like "dead against us." Dead against us! then. thought I, the wind had shifted to the southwest, and my last night's forebodings had been correct. When daylight at length appeared, I found the wind, al- though not blowing actually from the southwest, had veered round to the northwest, a change which was equally dis- astrous to us, inasmuch as it was carrying us away from land. Moreover, the ship had sunk considerably during the night, and there were now five feet of water above deck; the side netting had completely disappeared, and the fore- castle and the poop were now all but on a level with the sea, which washed over them incessantly. With all possible ex- pedition Curtis and his crew were laboring away at their raft, but the violence of the swell materially impeded their operations, and it became a matter of doubt as to whether the woodwork would not fall asunder before it could be properly fastened together. As I watched the men at their work, M. Letourneur, with one arm supporting his son, came out and stood by my side. "Don't you think this main-top will soon give way?" he said, as the narrow platform on which we stood creaked and groaned with the swaying of the masts. Miss Herbey heard his words and pointing toward Mrs. Kear, who was lying prostrate at her feet, asked what we thought ought to be done. "We can do nothing but stay where we are," I replied. "No," said Andre, "this is our best refuge; I hope you are not afraid." "Not for myself," said the young girl quietly, "only for those to whom life is precious." At a quarter to eight we heard the boatswain calling to the sailors in the bows. "Ay, ay, sir," said one of the men - O'Ready, I think. "Where's the whale-boat?" shouted the boatswain in a loud voice. "I don't know, sir. Not with us," was the reply. "She's gone...