“This is your business, pilot,” said Dunton. “I want to get the schooner into a good anchorage and I depend on you to show me where that is.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” cried Hoppy; “we must run her under the lee of Billingsgate Point! That’s about as safe as any place in this nor’wester.”
Under a storm jib and close-reefed foresail the little craft was headed for the Point. The lightning was now vivid and the crashing thunder was deafening. The long rollers from the ocean were breaking into white crests and the boom of the sea on the sandbars was heard at intervals through the elemental fury of the heavens. The rain fell in torrents and the wind increased to a gale which drove the schooner through the seething waters with tremendous force and would have overwhelmed her were it not for the splendid seamanship displayed by Hoppy Mayo. There was then no lighthouse on Billingsgate Point to guide them and the darkness of the night added to the terrors of the storm, but the pilot assured Dunton that he could make the anchorage all right, though he could not even then guarantee that the schooner would be out of danger.
The distance they had to run was about eight miles. When Hoppy’s calculations led him to believe that they were nearing the Point, he brought the schooner to the wind and ordered the anchor overboard. The strain on the stout cable was fearful but it held, and though the vessel was battered on all sides by the rollers she swung to her anchor in apparent safety for the moment.
There was not much said during all this time, for the simple reason that the shrieking gale and the general turmoil made it difficult for anyone to be heard, and the few orders given had to be shouted from man to man until the proper person was reached, but Hoppy conveyed to Dunton that this was the best he could do and that they must take their chances in this spot as long as the cable held and the gale continued.
The reader may wonder why the Cape Codder took such pains to bring the schooner to a place of comparative safety, but it must be kept in mind that Hoppy had no desire to risk his life by leaving the situation in charge of the British who knew nothing of the dangers of the locality; and besides, everything was working in favor of a triumphant conclusion to the scheme which was uppermost in his mind. The storm had altered his plans in some particulars, but it had improved his chances wonderfully and, indeed, the hardy pilot inwardly exulted when he felt assured that there would be no change in the weather until far into the night.
CHAPTER XV.
Quits!
There was no rest that night for the men on board the schooner. The gale continued with unabated fury, momentarily threatening destruction to the vessel, and Dunton knew that if the cable broke all hands would be required at once to try and work her off the Wellfleet shore, which was under their lee. The darkness and the absence of guiding lights on the land made him uncertain of his position, though a cast of the lead showed a safe depth of water.
To add to his discomfort, Dunton was aware that, through an oversight, the schooner had only one large anchor to depend on. It may be said that Hoppy Mayo also knew that there was but one anchor fit for the occasion, but, for reasons of his own, he suffered no anxiety on that point.
The pilot felt that the supreme hour of his life was at hand. He had faith in himself and in the justness of his cause. He refused to entertain the thought that the Arbiter of all things would decide against him in his struggle with his foes; but, whatever the outcome, he was determined to meet the end undauntedly as became a true American sailor.