"If they did, they'd come straight in, stem on, and be aground in five minutes or less," was the response.
It was difficult, however, to see of what possible use any amount of knowledge of navigation could be to the fated craft. Slowly she was being borne to her doom by the remorseless gale. She pitched and rolled every moment nearer and still nearer to the coast—to the low sunken rocks which would grind her to powder, and where no lifeboat could reach her.
The women prayed aloud, with sobs and shrieks of sympathy. To Claud it was like a chapter in a novel, a scene in a play. He had never before seen real people—people in whose midst he stood—go mad with pity and terror. He had never before heard women cry out, as these did, straight to the Great Father in their need.
"Oh, Lord Christ, save 'em! Have mercy on 'em, poor souls!" screamed an old fishwife at his side, bent with age and infirmity.
It seemed as if he could hardly do better than silently echo her prayer:
"God save all poor souls lost in the dark!"
The moments of suspense lengthened. The knot of spectators held their breath. It would be high water directly, and the gale was still driving in the frantic sea, boiling and eddying. The night was cleft by the momentary gleam of another rocket sent up from the yacht. Though evidently terribly distressed, she did not seem disabled, and rose from crest to crest of the mountainous rollers with a marvellous lightness. It was easy to see that she surprised all the old salts who were watching her. As she rolled nearer, her proportions were dimly to be seen. In the gloom she seemed like a great quivering white bird, palpitating and throbbing as if alive and sentient.
"Eh, what a beauty, what a beauty! What a cruel shame if she is lost," gasped one of the men in tones of real anguish.
Then, suddenly, from further along the crowd came a shout faintly heard above the storm. Claud could not distinguish the words, but a vague sense of atmospheric change came over him. A manifest sensation ran through the assembly; and it seemed as if there were a momentary cessation of the blinding gusts of spray which had drenched him.
A fresh stillness fell on the crowd, broken only by the sobbing whistling of the wind, which faltered, died down, burst forth again, and then seemed to go wailing off over the sea.