‘You’ll be drowned,’ cried the cabin-boy, who had seated himself on the lee-side of the companion; and the bitterness of the reproachful accent with which this was said stung the proud merchant to the quick—but he said nothing; his fears were, however, now all awake, and he saw, with a feeling of inexpressible alarm, that the crew were looking eagerly and sorrowfully towards the roaring precipices of Caithness.
Still the vessel kept bravely to her helm, and was working slowly outward; but, as she gradually wore round, her broadside became more and more exposed to the sea, and once or twice her decks were washed fore and aft.
‘This is terrible work, Captain,’ said Mr. Walkinshaw.
‘It is,’ was all the answer he received.
‘Is there no port we can bear away for?’
‘None.’
‘Good Heavens! Captain, if this continues till night?’
The master eyed him for a moment, and said with a shudder,—
‘If it does, sir, we shall never see night.’
‘You’ll be drowned,’ added the little boy, casting an angry look from behind the companion.