As a result of these orders he was not called till the early dawn, when it was blowing nearly hard enough to unship the main capstan. Even then Wardle would not have ventured to rouse him if he had not fancied that he saw some dismasted vessel far to leeward in the mirk and smother of the storm.
"I think I saw a vessel just now down to loo'ard," screamed the mate as the skipper made a bolt for him under the weather cloth on the mizzen rigging. "Dismasted I think, sir."
He saw the 'old man's' eye brighten and snap.
"Where did you say?" he roared; and before he could hear they had to wait till a singing squall went over.
"To loo'ard," said the mate again; and the next moment the skipper saw what he looked for.
"Not dismasted, on her beam ends," he shouted. And in a few more minutes, as the grey dawn poured across the waste of howling seas, Wardle saw that the 'old man' was right.
"Poor devils," he said, "it's all over with them."
The word that there was a vessel in difficulties soon brought out the watch on deck, who were taking shelter in the deckhouse. As it was close on four o'clock the watch below soon joined them, and presently Humphries came up on the poop.
"Ah!" said the second mate, "they are done for, poor chaps."
This the skipper heard, and he turned round sharply and roared, "What, with me here? Oh, not much!"