‘Not for certain; but I’m afraid it’s the Distant Shore,’ replied Jessop.
‘Captain Manton? I hope not,’ was the reply.
‘She’s helpless,’ said Jessop. ‘There’s no control over that ship. It’s awful! Here we are, and cannot lend a helping hand. No boat could live in such a sea; no man could swim near those rocks.’
They saw the ship lifted upon the top of the waves, and then sink out of sight again. The large vessel was no more to the merciless sea than a mere cork.
‘It will not be many minutes now,’ said Jessop to his wife; and she shuddered, and stepped back from the cliffs. ‘Go home, Mary,’ he said; ‘this is no place for you.’
‘I’ll face it now I’m here,’ she said; ‘the crash will be awful. Can nothing be done to save them?’
‘Nothing,’ he replied. ‘We must wait and see what the morning brings forth; the sea may have gone down by then. There’s very little hope that anyone will be saved.’
They crowded dangerously near the edge of the cliffs, and strained their eyes in the direction of the ship.
Suddenly the vessel shot upright under them, deep down below. She was heaved forward with tremendous force on the waves, and then came the crash, which seemed to shake the rock upon which they stood. It was an awful sound, this rending of timbers, the grinding and splitting to pieces of a fine ship, with her living freight, within a few yards of the harbour.
Cries came up from this abyss and made strong men tremble and weep. Cries for help, and they could not help, although there was not a man amongst them but would have risked his life cheerfully had he thought there was the slightest hope of saving those on board.