CHAPTER XXI
The Castaways
Mostyn was awake instantly. The burly Scillonian was slow to grasp the significance of the peril. Burgoyne stirred him with his foot.
"We're close on a lee shore," warned the Third Officer. "Look alive and 'bout ship."
The two men were almost lost to sight in the darkness as they clambered for'ard over the thwarts.
"Hope to goodness they don't bungle," thought Alwyn, as he remained on the alert, ready to put the helm down. "If she fails to answer this time we're done."
But before Jasper could uncleat the halliard a vicious puff struck the stiffly strained canvas. No doubt the sail was in a bad condition owing to its having been stored so long under a galvanized iron roof exposed to a broiling sun. Without warning the centre cloth split from top to bottom, and the hook securing the tack burst from its cringle. The next instant the torn fragments of the useless sail were streaming from the yard like washing on a line on a windy day.
Instantly the life-boat flew up into the wind under the action of the still close-sheeted mizzen; then, gathering sternway, she began to drift rapidly towards the reef dead to leeward.
The best seamanship in the world could not have saved her. To resort to the oars would have been a hopeless expedient. Even had the oars been double-banked and the boat manned by a full crew of stalwart oarsmen, she would not have been able to make headway in the howling wind and in the grip of the breaking seas.
For some moments the men were dumbfounded. They could only grip the gunwale and await the development of events. Then Burgoyne's voice stirred them to action.