Upon hearing these words, Cheyne moved up more closely to the group.
"Where will she come ashore?" he asked.
"On the reef, man!" answered a fisherman hotly; for no man who knows of such things likes to talk at such times.
Cheyne moved back to his old position, and fixed his eyes upon the doomed schooner.
The men and women assembled on the ledge of ground on the northern side of Silver Bay knew too well there was no lifeboat or rocket apparatus within fifteen miles, yet still there was no good in giving way to despair. The yacht was unmistakably going ashore in a few minutes on those rocks. There was little or no hope she could hold together there for anything like the time it would take to send word from Silverview to Bankleigh by horse, and from Bankleigh to the lifeboat station by telegraph, and then have the boat or apparatus round. Yet no chance, however slight, ought to be neglected; and accordingly, before another minute had elapsed, the swiftest man of the group was on his way at the top of his speed to the Castle, to give the alarm, and order the immediate despatch of the fleetest horse in the Duke's stables to Bankleigh.
Once more Cheyne drew near the group of men and women, and listened.
"What can be done when she strikes?" asked one of the women of one of the men.
"Nothing that we know of."
"Couldn't a boat go off to her?" asked the woman.
"No boat ever built could live in those breakers except a lifeboat."