way enough; and our black gowns and blue coats were lying about decks in every direction, with what had been padres and soldiers an hour before inside. I lit a cigar and picked out the driest place I could find, and hugged myself on my luck,—another man's coat getting wet on my back, while the air-tight jacket was keeping me dry as a bone.
"As night fell, it grew worse and worse; and the little Sicilian captain came on deck, looking rather wild. He called his pilots and mates into consultation, and from where I lay I could hear the words, 'Spezzia,' and 'Porto Venere,' several times; so I suppose they were debating whether or no to keep her head to the gale, or to edge away a point or two, and run for that bay. But with a head sea and a Mediterranean gale howling down from the gorges of the Ligurian Alps, that thing wasn't so easy. The boat would plunge into a sea and bury to her paddle-boxes, then pitch upward as if she were going to jump bodily out of water, and slap down into it again, while her guards would spring and quiver like card-board. The engine began to complain, as they will when a boat is laboring heavily. You could hear it take, as it were, long breaths, and then stop for a second altogether. I slipped below into the engine-room, and found Marston looking very sober. 'Kennedy,' said he, 'the 'Ercolano' will be somebody's coffin before to-morrow morning, I'm afraid. I'm carrying more steam than is prudent or safe, and the padrone has just sent orders to put on more. We are not making a mile an hour, he says; and our only chance is to get under the lee of the land. Look at those eccentrics and that connecting-rod! I expect to see something go any minute; and then—there's no use saying what will come next.' He sat down on his bench and covered his face with his hands.
"It seems, the 'Spezzia' question was decided about that time on deck, and the 'Ercolano's' bow suffered to fall off in the direction of that bay. The effect was that the next sea caught us full on the weather-bow with a shock that pitched everything movable out of its place. There was a twist and a grind from the machinery, a snap and a crash, and then part after part gave way, as the strain fell upon it in turn. Marston, with an engineer's instinct, shut off the steam; but the mischief was done. We felt the 'Ercolano' give a wild sheer, and then a long, sickening roll, as if she were going down bodily,—and we sprang for the companion-ladder. Everything on deck was at sixes and sevens when we reached it 'Sangue di San Gennaro! siamo perduli!' howled the captain; and even the poor sea-sick passengers seemed to wake up a little. It was a bad look-out. We got pretty much of every wave that was going, so there was hardly any standing forward; and, having no steam on, the wind and the sea had their own way with us. The gallant little padrone seemed to keep up his pluck, and made out to show a little sail, so as to bring her by the wind; but that, in a long, sharp steamer, didn't mend matters much. To make things completely cheerful and comfortable, word was passed up that we were leaking badly. I confess I didn't see much hope for us; and having lugged up my valise from below, where there was already a foot of water over the cabin-floor, I picked out the little valuables I could stow about me and kicked the rest into a corner. Still we had our boats, and, as the gale seemed to be breaking a little, there was hope for us. At last they managed to get them into the water, and keep them riding clear under our lee. The priests were bundled in like so many wet bales of black cloth, and then the soldiers, and Marston and I tried to follow; but a 'No room for heretics here,' enforced by a bit of brown steel in a soldier's hands, kept us back. The chance wasn't worth fighting for, after all. I didn't believe the steamer would sink, any way. I was aboard the 'San Francisco' when she drifted for nine days. However, there wasn't much time left for us to speculate on that,—for a rush of firemen and crew and the like
