“I say, Mr Rimmer, isn’t that man steering very wildly?”
“Who’s to steer tamely, sir, in a sea like this? Man has enough to do to keep from being washed overboard.”
The newcomer nodded and took a fresh grip of the top of the bulwark as a sea came over the bows again, and swept along the deck, leaving them breathless and panting, with the water streaming from oilskin and mackintosh.
“Don’t you want to put on a life-belt, too?” shouted the first speaker, as in the darkness of that terrible night his words seemed to be snatched away as soon as uttered.
“Yes; it would be safer; where are they?”
“Bah! Nonsense! Look down there. Suppose you had on a life-belt, what could you do in such a sea? You’d both be knocked to pieces or have the breath choked out of you in five minutes. Stick to the ship while you can. That’s good advice.”
“Is there any danger?” shouted the young man who was nearest the last speaker.
“Of course there is. No one could be in such a tornado without being in danger.”
“But shall we be wrecked?” asked the fresh-comer.
“Heaven only knows, sir. We’re all amongst the islands and reefs, and if one of them is in our way nothing can save us.”