"It is very dreadful. But we have hope now. An hour ago I should not have ventured to serve out grog, lest in despair some might have broken into the spirit-hold. Come with me now, mate, and we will splice the main-brace. Come, steward, you know what is wanted."
It was very difficult even yet to get forward, so covered was the deck with wreckage. But they succeeded at last.
Sad, indeed, was the sight that dawn revealed.
The mizzen-mast alone was left standing, the fore and main having gone by the board.
The ship herself had been carried by a huge tidal wave, right in between two high volcanic-looking rocks, and there so jammed that at low tide it was perfectly possible to walk under keel.
Jibboom and bowsprit were also smashed, and a single glance at the ship would have told even a landsman that she was doomed.
Nor would it be safe even to remain on board, for at any time she might slide backwards and lie on the shingle beneath, broadside up.
Talbot was no pessimist.
"Thank God, boys," he said, "that our lives have been spared."
"Amen!" was said by all around, and that, too, with both reverence and fervour.