But it is too late. There is a sudden shock; the ship is caught up by an enormous wave; she rises upon her beam ends; several times she strikes the ground; the mizzen-mast snaps short off level with the deck, falls into the sea, and the Chancellor is motionless.
CHAPTER XV
SHIPWRECKED
THE night of the 29th continued.—It was not yet midnight; the darkness was most profound, and we could see nothing. But was it probable that we had stranded on the coast of America?
Very shortly after the ship had thus come to a stand-still a clanking of chains was heard proceeding from her bows.
"That is well," said Curtis; "Walter and the boatswain have cast both the anchors. Let us hope they will hold."
Then, clinging to the netting, he clambered along the starboard side, on which the ship had heeled, as far as the flames would allow him. He clung to the holdfasts of the shrouds, and in spite of the heavy seas that dashed against the vessel he maintained his position for a considerable time, evidently listening to some sound that had caught his ear in the midst of the tempest. In about a quarter of an hour he returned to the poop.
"Heaven be praised!" he said, "the water is coming in, and perhaps may get the better of the fire."
"True," said I, "but what then?"
"That," he replied, "is a question for bye-and-bye. We can think now only of the present."