Annie was about to reply when the door opened, and the captain looked in. He wore a sou’-wester, and was clad in oilcloth garments from head to foot, which shone like black satin with the dripping spray.
“We’re getting on famously,” he said in a hearty tone, “the wind has shifted round to the sou’-west, and if it holds—we shall—”
“Sprung a leak, sir!” cried the first mate in a deep excited voice as he looked down the companion.
“What!” exclaimed the captain, rushing upon deck.
“Plank must have started, sir, there’s three foot water in—”
His voice was drowned by distance and the roaring of the gale, but Mr Webster and Annie had heard enough to fill them with alarm.
The Ocean Queen had indeed sprung a leak, and so bad was it that when all the pumps available were set a-going, they failed to reduce the depth of water in the hold. Still, by constantly changing hands and making strenuous exertions, they prevented it from increasing rapidly. All that night and next day they wrought with unflagging energy at the pumps. No man on board spared himself. The captain took his spell with the rest. Even Mr Webster threw off his coat and went to work as if he had been born and bred a coal-heaver. The work, however, was very exhausting, and when land appeared no one seemed to have any heart to welcome it except Annie and her old nurse Mrs Niven.
Towards evening of the next day the captain came up to Mr Webster, who was seated on the cabin skylight with his head resting wearily on his hands.
“We cannot make the port of Liverpool, I find,” he said. “The pilot says that if we wish to save the ship we must run for the nearest harbour on the coast, which happens, unfortunately, to be the very small one of Covelly.”
“Then by all means run for it,” said Mr Webster. “Strange,” he muttered to himself, “that fate should lead me there.”