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The Storm on the Indian Ocean

           "Lowerthetopsailandjib-boom!"

           Glenarvanandhiscompanionsstoodsilentlygazingatthestrugglebetweentheirgoodshipandthewaves,lostinwonderingandhalf-terrifiedadmirationatthespectacle.

           Justthen,adullhissingwasheardabovethenoiseoftheelements.Thesteamwasescapingviolently,notbythefunnel,butfromthesafety-valvesoftheboiler;thealarmwhistlesoundedunnaturallyloud,andtheyachtmadeafrightfulpitch,overturningWilson,whowasatthewheel,byanunexpectedblowfromthetiller.TheDuncannolongerobeyedthehelm.

           "Whatisthematter?"criedthecaptain,rushingonthebridge.

           "Theshipisheelingoveronherside,"repliedWilson.

           "Theengine!theengine!"shoutedtheengineer.

           AwayrushedJohntotheengine-room.Acloudofsteamfilledtheroom.Thepistonsweremotionlessintheircylinders,andtheywereapparentlypowerless,andtheengine-driver,fearingforhisboilers,waslettingoffthesteam.

           "What’swrong?"askedthecaptain.

           "Thepropellerisbentorentangled,"wasthereply."It’snotactingatall."

           "Can’tyouextricateit?"

           "Itisimpossible."

           Anaccidentlikethiscouldnotberemedied,andJohn’sonlyresourcewastofallbackonhissails,andseektomakeanauxiliaryofhismostpowerfulenemy,thewind.Hewentupagainondeck,andafterexplaininginafewwordstoLordGlenarvanhowthingsstood,beggedhimtoretiretohiscabin,withtherestofthepassengers.ButGlenarvanwishedtoremainabove.

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