It took him but a second to reach the cabin door and tear it open. A bright flash showed him two white faces at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hustle up here, an' give a hand," he ordered.
"W-what's wrong?" Donaster asked, shaking with fear.
"Never mind what's wrong. I ain't got time to explain. Git a move on."
The men at once obeyed, scrambled up the steps, and tumbled on deck.
"Come on," Eben commanded. "Follow me."
This, however, was no easy thing to do, for the two men found it most difficult to make their way across the blocks of stone. The lightning blinded and dazed them so much that they often stumbled and fell, so by the time they reached their guide who was standing by the halliard, their bodies were bruised in a number of places.
"Lay hold on this rope," Eben ordered. "We've got to hist the sail or this boat'll be aground. Now, pull fer all yer worth."
"Without a word the two men did as they were bidden, and as the sail slowly rose it flapped wildly in the wind, and threatened to tear itself loose from the yards. Fortunately at this critical moment the wind lulled for a brief spell, which enabled them to accomplish the task, and make the halliard fast.
"Now come over here," Eben again commanded. "I want ye to look after the sheet-line." He darted across the deck, the men following him as fast as possible. "Look after this rope," he continued, "an' do jist as I say." He then sprang aft, and laid hold of the wheel.