"They'll give you six or seven knots, head to wind. Will your tow rope hold?"
"I doubt. We have a steel hawser ready, but if she breaks the hemp rope she'll probably break the wire."
Lister agreed. The thick hemp rope stretched and absorbed the strain; the wire was less elastic. They were approaching Carmel Point, and Holyhead was not far, but they must front the gale when they got round the corner. In the meantime, the engines were running smoothly, and Lister smoked and waited while the sea got worse. Flashing lights ahead and the violent lurching indicated that they crept round the point. Then Terrier plunged into a white sea and deck and bulwarks vanished. Her bows swung out of the foam and Lister ran to the door. He felt the tug leap forward and knew the rope had gone.
He got out in front of Brown and plunged down the ladder. Since Terrier must be stopped and turned, he was needed. Water ran from his clothes when he reached a slanted platform and seized a greasy wheel. The telegraph gong was clanging and the beat of engines slackened as he followed the orders. Then the spinning cranks stopped altogether and for a minute or two there was a strange quietness. One heard the wind, and water splashed in the bilges.
Lister got the signal Ahead slow, and when he restarted his engines ran up the ladder. He could trust the man he left, and wanted to see what was happening. It was a moment or two before he could satisfy his curiosity, and then a bright beam illuminated the tug and angry water. Brown was burning a blue-light while Terrier crept up to the hulk. He meant to pass the fresh hawser, but could not launch a boat, and Lister doubted if the men on the hulk could heave the heavy wire rope on board. Although one must get near to throw a line, it looked as if Brown were going alongside.
Two dark figures, crouched on Terrier's rail like animals ready to spring, cut against the blaze. Brown was going alongside; anyhow, he was going near enough for the men to jump, but the thing was horribly risky. If the rolling hulk struck the tug planks and iron plates would be beaten in; moreover the men must jump from the slanted rail, and if they jumped short, their long boots and oilskins would drag them down.
It looked as if Cartwright knew how to choose men for an awkward job, for as the tug got nearer Lister saw the men meant to go. She swung up on the top of a white sea; the hulk, swept by spray, rolled down, with her deck close below the steamer's rail. One felt they must shock, but they did not. The dark figures leaped, there was a faint shout, a line whirled out from Terrier's bridge and the hulk drove astern. Then the blue light vanished and Lister plunged into the engine-room. Somehow the thing was done.
The gong signaled Half-speed, the rhythmic clash of engines began, and Lister felt Terrier tremble as she tightened the rope. Brown had played his part and Lister's had begun. He wondered whether they could keep the water out of the engine-room. They had drifted off-shore, and now they had opened up the channel the combers leaped on board. The seas were not regular; they ran in short, steep ridges, and gave the tug no time to lift. While she swung her bows from the foaming turmoil the next swept her deck. But to watch the seas and keep the hulk in line was the captain's business, and Lister was occupied by his.
Standing on a slanted platform with his hand on the throttle, he waited for the lurch that lifted the spinning screw. When the blades left the water, the engines raced with a horrible din and he must cut off steam. If he let the engines go, something might break when the propeller got hold again. The work demanded a firm but delicate touch, since the pressure must change with the swiftly-changing load. One could not argue when the bows would plunge and the stern swing clear; one must know instinctively. The muscular effort was not hard, but Lister's face was wet with sweat, and when he was slow and the engine-room rang with the clash of machinery his heart beat. The big columns that held the cylinders rocked; crank and connecting-rod spun too fast for him to see. There was a confusing flash of steel and a daunting uproar.
For the most part, he was able to get control before the stern came down. Moreover, he was not using full steam; to let her go would swamp the boat and wash the men off the laboring hulk. Lister knew the rope held because he felt the heavy drag. Although she rolled and plunged, there was no life in Terrier's movements. She was sluggish, embarrassed by the load she hauled.