The conversation was interrupted by a heavy lurch the ship made, which sent Jerry and me tumbling away into the lee scuppers; a huge sea at the same moment came rolling up with a foaming crest towards us.  It caught the brig broad on the bow--up it rose like a wall, and then with a loud angry roar fell right over us.  I felt myself swimming in deep water, with my mouth full and almost blinded.  I heard Jerry's cry close to me. The dreadful thought occurred to me that we were both overboard, and the utter impossibility of lowering a boat to save us flashed across me. I shrieked out for help.  A whirl--a confused sound of roaring, hissing waters--a sensation of battling and struggling with them--an eager desire to clutch at something,--are all I remember.  Down came the gale on the ship with greater fury than before--another sea from the opposite quarter struck her.  I felt myself grasped by a strong arm, and when I opened my eyes, I saw that I was being dragged up to windward by Cousin Silas, who, at the imminent risk of losing his own life, had sprung out with a rope in his hand and hauled me on board again.