The terror of her aunt called up all the courage of Miss Aylesford. Hastily attiring herself, she staggered across the cabin floor to her relative, and began to assist the latter’s shaking hands.
“They have fastened us down here, too, I suppose,” cried Mrs. Warren, in a tremulous voice. “We shall be drowned, without having a chance to get on deck.”
Kate herself knew not but that, in another moment, the ship might sink. Certainly, all she had ever read, or imagined, of a storm at sea, was nothing to this. She felt that if there was something tangible to meet, if she could only get on deck and see what was going on, she would be better able to face the peril.
“We are in God’s hands, you know, aunt. If you are not afraid of being left alone, I will try to reach the deck, and learn what is the matter—”
“Don’t, for mercy’s sake, leave me,” cried Mrs. Warren, clinging to her niece. “What shall I do down here alone?” But a tremendous surge, almost heaving the ship on her beam ends, a new terror overcame the dread of being left for a moment, and she cried, suddenly, “Yes, yes, go, go, and see what is the matter. Tell the captain we are in no hurry. Perhaps it’s his carrying so much sail, as he calls it, that makes the ship lean over so. Dear me, if I once get on dry land, I’ll never trust myself at sea again.”
Kate did not wait for a second permission. She crept along towards the forward cabin, which served for the dining room, reached the stairs, and clambered up with difficulty. A moment after she stood upon the deck.
The night was now pitch dark. A cold, heavy rain was falling, hissing and dancing as it struck the deck, and occasionally driving wildly past in an almost horizontal direction. But Kate did not for a while even know that it rained. Her entire energies were demanded to keep her feet, for between the violent motion of the ship, and the fury of the wind, she was nearly prostrated. When at last she had gained a slightly sheltered position, and found something to hold on by, she looked anxiously around.
The wide expanse of waters was black as ink, except where, here and there, the white caps flashed up. Miss Aylesford, in that first impressive moment, forgot all thought of possible peril, so overpowered was she by the dread majesty of the scene before her. She could liken it to nothing but the abyss of woe, surging its black waters from depths that no plummet could ever sound, impiously against heaven, which frowned in awful anger back; and the illusion was sustained by the white and ghastly objects which flitted across the vision, like spectres cast up from the profound below, and driven remorselessly past by inexorable fates.
But this feeling of awe and admiration lasted only for a moment. She remembered her terror-struck aunt below, and looked around to see if there was any person of whom she could inquire. But everybody seemed engaged in a struggle for life or death. A dim figure, in which she fancied she recognized the captain, stood at the helm, with a speaking trumpet at its mouth; while two stalwart forms grasped the spokes of the wheel; and other vague shapes hurried hither and thither across the deck through the darkness and storm. There was a wild confusion of orders, given so rapidly that she could distinguish no words, and of noises compounded of the wind and sea, so that she was almost stunned.
This rapid survey consumed but a moment. Looking down the sloping deck, she saw close under the lee of the ship what seemed a vortex of foaming water; and now, for the first time, she recognized a dull, sullen roar, which she knew to be that of breakers. At once the whole peril of their situation flashed upon her. Instead of being a hundred miles at sea, as Captain Powell had supposed, they were close upon the coast; and these superhuman exertions, which she saw master and crew making, were designed to get an offing for the vessel.