"It's breaking now, sir," said Swinburne, at last; "satisfied with the injury it has done—and that's no little. This is worse than '94."
"Now, I'd give all my pay and prize-money if it were only daylight, and
I could know the fate of the poor Rattlesnake. What do you think,
Swinburne?"
"All depends upon whether they were taken unprepared, sir. Captain O'Brien is as good a seaman as ever trod a plank; but he never has been in a hurricane, and may not have known, the signs and warnings which God in His mercy has vouchsafed to us. Your flush vessels fill easily—but we must hope for the best."
Most anxiously did we look out for the day, which appeared to us as if it never would break. At last the dawn appeared, and we stretched our eyes to every part of the offing as it was lighted up, but we could not see the brig. The sun rose, and all was bright and clear; but we looked not around us, our eyes were directed to where we had left the brig. The sea was still running high, but the wind abated fast.
"Thank God!" ejaculated Swinburne, when he had directed his eyes along the coast, "she is above water, at all events!" and looking in the direction where he pointed, I perceived the brig within two miles of the shore, dismantled, and tossing in the waves.
"I see her," replied I, catching my breath with joy; "but—still—I think she must go on shore."
"All depends upon whether she can get a little bit of sail up to weather the point," replied Swinburne; "and depend upon it, Captain O'Brien knows that as well as we do."
We were now joined by the other men who were saved. We all shook hands. They pointed out to me the bodies of our shipmates who had perished. I directed them to haul them further up, and put them all together; and continued, with Swinburne, to watch the brig. In about half an hour we perceived a triangle raised, and in ten minutes afterwards a jury-mast abaft—a try-sail was hoisted and set. Then the shears were seen forward, and in as short a time another try-sail and a storm-jib were expanded to the wind.
"That's all he can do now, Mr Simple," observed Swinburne; "he must trust to them and Providence. They are not more than a mile from the beach—it will be touch and go."
Anxiously did we watch for more than half an hour; the other men returned to us, and joined in our speculations. At one time we thought it impossible—at another, we were certain that she would weather the point. At last, as she neared us, she warped ahead: my anxiety became almost insupportable. I stood first on one leg, and then on the other, breathless with suspense. She appeared to be on the point—actually touching the rocks—"God! she's struck!" said I.