“My father, Mr Leslie. Keep him out of danger, pray!”
“Trust me. I’ll do my best,” said the young man quickly; and then he awoke to the fact that Harry Vine was beside him, white with anger, an anger which seemed to make him dumb.
The next minute the whole party were struggling down the street against the hurricane-like wind, to learn from a dozen voices, eager to tender the bad news, that the mist of spray had been so thick that in the early gloom of evening the vessel had approached quite unseen till she was close in, and directly after she had struck on the dangerous rock, in a wild attempt to reach the harbour, a task next to impossible in such a storm.
Chapter Eighteen.
Harry Vine Shows His Bright Side.
The wreck of a ship, on the threshold of the home where every occupant is known, is a scene of excitement beyond the reach of pen to adequately describe; and as the two young men reached the mouth of the harbour, following closely upon Van Heldre, their own petty animosity was forgotten in the face of the terrible disaster.
The night was coming fast, and a light had been hoisted in the rigging of the vessel, now hard on the dangerous rock—the long arc of a circle described by the dim star, showing plainly to those on shore the precarious position of the unfortunate crew.
The sides of the harbour were crowded, in spite of the tremendous storm of wind and spray; and, as Leslie followed the shipowner, he noted the horror and despair in many a spray-wet face.