“I don’t know what’s coming of this, Morton,” said the captain during a moment’s lull; “but, however we come out, we’ve done all we can.”
“I’m afraid we have, sir; but I can’t think this will last much longer. It seems to be holding off a little just now; and it would be hard to see anything go wrong so near home, and after such a run as we have had.”
But the momentary lull seemed only to have redoubled the strength of the tempest; the beating and the roar increased until it seemed as if every sail, close-reefed as it was, would be carried away. At last, through all the commotion, a sharp, tearing crash and a heavy fall announced that the foretopmast had yielded to the strain.
“Clear away there!” shouted the captain, and the men sprang forward with their axes. It was almost impossible to do anything, with the vessel pitching as if she would go under with every wave, but the work must be done, and the captain’s voice was heard now above everything.
But something else was not heard: a broken spar, just above the captain’s head, was swaying back and forth, crackling and snapping for one instant before it should come down. Only Jake’s eye, raised for one instant, caught sight of it. To shout or to gesture through the roar and darkness would have been vain; only a momentary flash of lightning had shown the danger to Jake. In one instant, almost like the lightning itself, he was at the captain’s side.
“Stand from under!” he shouted, and pointed upward. The captain sprang aside, Jake turned to do the same, but a pitch of the vessel destroyed his balance. The one second taken to recover it, was the one second too late. With a crash near enough now to be heard over all, the spar was down, and Jake—? Where was he? Overboard? For one moment it seemed so, but another flash showed him lying senseless against the windlass. If he could but have known that it was the captain himself who sprang toward him, lifted him up, and drew him to a place of safety?
In another half hour, as if the storm with this last cruel blow had wreaked its vengeance, it had passed away, a fine steady breeze was all that remained of its force, and the clouds were breaking in rifts along the sky. And with just such a momentary uncertain light as the moon was sending through them, Jake’s consciousness was returning; enough, though to show him that the captain was standing by his bunk and holding water to his lips. That moment repaid Jake for all the bygone years that had made his life a wretchedness.
“On hand again, my man? That’s all right! I was afraid you had shipped for another voyage, and all for my sake too!”
If Jake could only have told him what was in his heart! He would have given worlds to do it, but he could not speak.
“You saved my life, my hearty, and I shall remember that I owe it to you,” said the captain again.