“Thought I heard a little bell; such a thing as a lady's lap-dog wears round his neck on a ribbon.”
The second officer turned and glanced sharply up at the captain, who, however, made no further comment, and seemed to be thinking of something else.
“Couldn't have been a bell-buoy, I suppose?” he suggested, with a tentative laugh as he pushed his cap upwards away from his ears.
“No bell-buoys out here,” replied the captain, rather sharply, with his usual self-confidence.
They stood side by side in silence for five minutes or more. The mist was a little thinner now, and Captain Dixon looked upwards to the sky, hoping to see the stars. He was looking up when the steamer struck, and the shock threw him against the after rail of the bridge. The second officer was thrown to the ground and struggled there for an instant before getting to his feet again.
“God Almighty!” he said, and that was all.
Captain Dixon was already at the engine-room telegraph wrenching the pointer round to full speed ahead. The quartermaster on watch was at his side in a moment, and several men in shining oilskins swarmed up the ladder to the bridge for their orders.
The Grandhaven was quite still now, but trembling like a horse that had stumbled badly and recovered itself with dripping knees. Already the seas were beating the bluff sides of the great vessel, throwing pyramids of spray high above the funnels.
Captain Dixon grabbed the nearest man by the arm.
“The boats,” he shouted in his ear. “Tell Mr. Stoke to take charge. Tell him it's the Manacles.”