midnight
'T was a fearful night of shrieking wind and thundering wave . Often and often as the brave _ Misericorde _ reared and hung suspended on a wave 's crest , we knew none of us if she would ever reach the next . Lucky for us we were a flush-decked ship and our hatches sound , for the seas that poured over us would have filled us to the brim in an hour . Lucky , too , the Frenchman 's cargo had been snugly stowed , or we should have been on our beam-ends before midnight . Half-way through the night , there was a loud crack and over went our main top-mast with her sails in ribbons . We had scarce time , at great peril , to cut her away , when another burst snapped our mizzen almost at the deck . `` That lightens us still more , '' said Ludar .