As he forged ahead of the flagship, Captain Brydell took off his cap and waved it; and Brydell, knowing the spirit of fortitude that his father expected of him, waved his cap back in that one moment of ghastly light. Then, as the darkness descended, a cheer rang out above the howling of the wind; it was the men on the Naiad cheering their more fortunate comrades, while they themselves seemed doomed to destruction.
But at that moment the frigate, as if gathering herself for a mighty effort, moved forward a little, then stopped and staggered, and again she was moving ahead, although but slowly and unsteadily. Brydell managed to keep her head to the wind, and by degrees as the steam got up she made a little more headway.
In the blinding flashes of light they could see the two sloops-of-war for a while ahead of them, but when they had got a mile or two from shore not even the lightning gleam could pierce the whole of the awful darkness.
Brydell’s sensations as he stood by the wheel, occasionally leaving it to mount the bridge for a minute or two, could not be described. He was simply doing what any other officer could do or would have done, but no young officer in the world, having for his first command the safety of a flagship in a furious gale and the lives of four hundred souls, could feel anything but awed and solemn.
The quickness with which he had seized the situation and had signaled the course to pursue had inspired the men with confidence, and he was well supported by the coolness and steadiness of the young midshipmen. Presently, while walking forward to see how things were going, he was met by the cabin orderly, who in attempting to salute lost his cap in the shrieking wind.
“Mr. Verdery, sir, has come to,” he yelled in Brydell’s ear above the roaring of wind and water, “and the cabin steward is helpin’ him on deck; but he can’t see ’cause both his eyes were hurt by that ’ere port blowin’ out.”
In the half-darkness that the ship’s lights could only pierce like star points Brydell saw Verdery, with his eyes bandaged, being helped up the companionway. Brydell hurried to him.
“You have done admirably, Mr. Brydell,” was Verdery’s generous greeting, “and it shall be known to your credit. My first dread when I recovered my senses was that you had not grasped the situation, but when I asked I found out that you had put to sea as promptly as any officer could.”
“And I immediately signaled the other ships to go to sea also,” replied Brydell.
At that a sudden change came over Verdery’s pale and anxious face which was visible below the bandages. In the midst of the horrors and dangers of the hour he suddenly burst out laughing.