As it was now evidently hopeless to attempt heaving the vessel to, she was once more kept before the wind, while Rayner and his men, armed with two axes, which they found hanging up in the companion-hatch, and their knives cut away the rigging, and allowed the foremast, which hung over the side, to float clear of the vessel.
“We must now cut away the mainmast. We shall have to bring up presently, and it will enable her to ride more easily,” cried Rayner. The standing rigging was first cut through, then that on the other side, when a few strokes sent the mast overboard. Still the schooner ran on before the wind. Had she been laden, she must have foundered. The hatches had been got on and battened down. They now, as far as practicable, secured the companion-hatch, for they all well knew that the moment they should bring up, the seas would come rolling on board, and sweep the decks fore and aft. By Rayner’s advice, each man got lashings ready to secure himself to the stanchions or stumps of the masts. Nearer and nearer the vessel drew to the shore. Looking ahead, the line of breakers were seen dashing wildly on a reef parallel with the shore, beyond which there appeared to be a narrow lagoon.
Rayner, observing that the surf did not roll up the beach to any considerable height, looked out for a passage through which the vessel might be steered. The continuous line of breakers ran as far as the eye could reach along the shore. There was only one spot where they seemed to break with less fury. Towards it Rayner determined to steer the schooner. He and Oliver soon came to the conclusion that it would be useless to attempt anchoring. The water, probably, was far too deep outside the reef for their range of cable, and even if it were not, the anchor was not likely to hold.
They accordingly steered for the spot they had discovered, the only one which afforded them the slightest hope of escaping instant destruction.
On rushed the vessel, now rising on the top of a sea, now plunging into a deep hollow. Rayner and Oliver held their breaths.
“I say, what’s going to happen?” asked Tom of one of the other men. “Shall we get safe on shore? I shouldn’t mind if we could, although the Frenchmen made us prisoners.”
“As to that, it seems to me doubtful,” was the answer. “Maybe, in a few minutes we shall be floating about among those breakers there, with no more life in us than those poor fellows who were washed away just now; or it may be that this little craft will be carried clear over the reef into smooth water.”
“Oh dear, oh dear!” exclaimed Tom, “I have often wished that I had stayed at home; I wish it more than ever now.”
“No use wishing. It won’t undo what has been done. But, see, we are getting very close. We shall know all about it presently.”
The schooner was farther off than Rayner had at first supposed; and as they got nearer he saw, to his relief, that the spot for which he was steering was wider than he had fancied.