The fact of not being able to see any fresh peril or danger that might be impending over us, and so face it manfully, in the manner customary with sailor-folk with any grit in them, took away the last lingering remnant of courage even of the bravest amongst us; and I’m confident there was not a single foremast hand there of the lot grouped by the galley and under the break of the fo’c’s’le, not excepting either Tom Bullover or the American sailor, Hiram, plucky as both were in ordinary circumstances, but was as panic-stricken, could their inmost feelings be disclosed and the truth out-told, as myself—although I was too dazed with terror to think of this then.
And so we remained, awaiting we knew not what, coming from we knew not where, in terrible uncertainty and dread expectancy.
Anything might happen now, we thought, still more awful than what had already occurred; for the gloomy stillness and mysterious mantle of darkness that had descended on us increased our fears and suggested every weird possibility, until the prolonged suspense became well-nigh maddening.
“I’m durned if I ken stand this much longer,” I heard Hiram whisper hoarsely, as if uttering his thoughts aloud, for he addressed no one in particular. “Guess I’ll jump overboard an’ drown myself, fur the devil’s in the shep, an’ thaar’s a cuss hangin’ over her!”
A shuffling sound of feet moving on the deck followed, as if the poor, distraught fellow was about to carry his senseless and wicked design into execution; and then I caught the tones of Tom Bullover’s voice also coming out from amidst the surrounding gloom.
“Hush, avast there!” cried the latter solemnly. “Is this a time for running in the face of your Maker, when in another minute or two we may all be mustered afore Him in eternity? Besides, bo, what’s the use o’ jumping overboard, when you couldn’t get drownded? for the ship’s hard and fast ashore!”
Before Hiram could reply to this, or make any further movement, a shout rang out from the poop aft, where previously all had been as still as with us forwards, wrapped in the same impenetrable darkness and deathly silence.
I recognised Jan Steenbock at once as the person hailing us.
“Land, ho!” he exclaimed; “I sees him! It vas lighten oop, and I sees him on ze port bow!”
As the second-mate spoke, there was a perceptible movement of the heavy, close atmosphere, which had hitherto been still and sultry, like what it generally is during a thunderstorm, or when some electrical disturbance is impending in the air. Then, the land breeze sprang up again, the wind, first coming in little puffs and subsequently settling down into a steady breeze off shore, and the heavy curtain of black vapour that had previously enveloped us began to drift away to leeward, enabling us after a bit to see the ship’s position and our surroundings—albeit all was yet wrapped in the semi-darkness of night, as it was close on eleven o’clock.