“Port, sir.”
“Starboard, sir.”
“Dead ahead!” were the conflicting cries.
The siren flung another wild cry into the wet gloom—a cry that was at once imploring, menacing, and complaining.
It was answered again by a roar as of a great sea beast in fear of pain.
Then followed a deep silence, while every man strained his eyes.
At the same instant they saw her, a great mass looming out suddenly just ahead.
“Starboard!” shouted the Captain, in a voice of thunder.
The Swift leant over as she answered to her helm. There was a noise of shouting from the towering decks of the strange steamer, a feeling of impending doom, as her iron side rolled over towards the low craft, but next instant she was swallowed up in the gloom astern.
The Captain drew a long breath, and the men turned and looked at each other in silence, their faces still white and fixed.