'Hold on, all hands!' roared the captain from the wheel, which he was grasping conjointly with the helmsman.
'Hold tightly,' screamed Mrs. Burke to me as we stood together in the companion.
Mr. Owen flung himself on his knees behind the mizzen-mast. Green, the mate, stood at the mizzen-rigging grasping a belaying-pin. It was as though an electric storm was volleying in one continuous roar of cloud battery overhead. The ship seemed to be thrown keel out of water forward. I glanced astern at the instant that her bows took the first of the slant of that mighty heave of sea, and the line of her taffrail was depressed, like the edge of a spoon afloat in a cup, in the crackling whiteness there, with Captain Burke and the helmsman low down, pale and motionless. The sails throughout came in to the mast with a single clap. In a breath or two we were on the rounded top of that vast rolling lift of water that was roaring along either extremity of it to the horizon; the wind was full of the thunder of the shock and the snap of strong seas staggering on the under run; in that breathless moment of our being poised atop the whole weight of the wind was upon the ship; through the roar of the roller ran the bugling in the rigging, and the low, deep humming of the canvas as it strained with the blast.
Then like an arrow down rushed the vessel. Oh, that was a frightful moment! So steep was the slant that the water poured in tons over her bows as she went. I turned sick. I thought she would take the valley in a dive and strike clean through under the next sea, never again to rise. Fortunately the run of the mighty roller left the water smooth in its wake. The bows sprang buoyant, the whole ship seemed to leap with a sort of shudder of rejoicing throughout her.
'Trim sail the watch,' shouted the captain, letting go the helm and coming forward. 'Mr. Green, bring the ship to her course again. A desperately close shave. Had it come from the wind'ard, or taken us abeam to leeward, or found us a strake or two deeper——'
There was no need for him to finish the sentence. He came to the companion-way.
'An ocean hurdle,' said he, still very pale, and watching the wheel as the man revolved the spokes to bring the ship to.
'What was it, Edward?' cried his wife.
'A roller,' said he. 'I hope there may not be another.' He looked to leeward. 'One of those volcanic jokes or hurricane survivals which try periodically to swamp Ascension and St. Helena. Help Miss Otway below, Mary, and give her a little drop of wine, and take a nip yourself.'