"Every vessel that breaks anchor is doomed! Nothing can keep them from going on shore. Doubtless those two schooners lost anchor—that one there is dragging anchor." He said suddenly, "She is shifting position, and see that hulk—"
Rose for a moment could not see it. She lay flat on her side, a two-master, her sails flapping and floating on the waves. Her anchor still held, but she had listed her cargo, careened, and so lay helpless.
"There are men on it!" cried some one. "Three men—don't you see them? The water goes over them every time!"
"Sure enough! I wonder if they are going to let them drown, here in the harbor!"
Rose grew numb with horror. On the rounded side of the floating hulk three men were clinging, looking like pegs of tops. They could only be seen at intervals, for the water broke clear over their heads. It was only when one of them began to move to and fro that the mighty crowd became certainly aware of life still clinging to the hull.
It was an awful thing to stand helplessly by, and see those brave men battle, but no life-boat or tug could live out there. In the station men wept and imprecated in their despair—twice they tried to go to the rescue of the beleaguered men, but could not reach them.
Suddenly a flare of yellow spread out on the wave. A cry arose:
"She's breaking up!"
Rose seized Mason's arm in a frenzy of horror.
"O God! can't somebody help them?"