“Oh, she will sink! she will sink!” cried Grace—“and all will be drowned!”
She had passed the cape, and was driving in towards the shore, the sea every instant increasing in height and fury. Would she float till she reached it? or, should she reach it, would she escape the fearful rocks which lined so long an extent of the coast? We watched her with fearful anxiety, trying to ascertain what those on board were doing; but the distance and the spray which drove over her almost concealed them from our sight. We were still gazing at them, when we heard my uncle and Oliver utter exclamations of dismay. They had just arrived at the spot where we were.
“We must go round to Cormorant Bay,” said my uncle. “I think she will drive ashore thereabouts, if she floats as long; and if our friends can manage to cling on till then, they may possibly be saved. But the risk is a fearful one.”
Hurrying from the rock, we had to go all the way round by the house to get to the bay of which my uncle spoke. The Frau saw us as we passed, and followed as fast as she could move, though she in vain attempted to keep up with us. On we ran with Merlin. We no longer thought of snakes, or orang-outans, or tigers, so eager were we to reach the bay. As we passed the house, our uncle and Oliver snatched up some large bamboos and ropes to assist them in getting our friends on shore. We eagerly looked out through each opening towards the sea, in the hope of seeing the vessel; but she was nowhere visible. Oh, how my heart trembled lest she should have sunk before reaching the shore! Sometimes our agitation was so great that Grace and I could scarcely proceed. Again we regained our courage, and ran on; but I felt as if I was in some fearful dream, so eager were we to get there, and yet so incapable did we feel ourselves of moving fast. At length the bay to which we were directing our course appeared between the trees. We made our way down to the beach; but so fearfully agitated was the ocean that we could not at first distinguish the vessel. Yes! but there she was, though—still floating, and at some distance from the land; but the foaming seas were washing over her, and it seemed impossible that anybody could yet be clinging to her sides. The spray broke in our faces, and prevented us from seeing clearly. Oliver, however, at last exclaimed—
“Yes, yes—I am sure there is some one holding on to the bulwarks! Yes! I see two—three figures! I am sure of that. Perhaps there are more.”
We stood with aching eyes gazing on the vessel. We could render her no assistance. Still it was evident she was driving in closer and closer. Happily the bay towards which she was coming was free of rocks; and though a tremendous surf broke on it, yet it might be possible for them, with our assistance, to escape to land should she once reach the beach. As she drew near, my uncle fastened a rope round his waist, and told Oliver to do the same.
“Now, Frau,” he said, “you take hold of this rope, and do not let me go, or my life will be sacrificed. Girls, do you do the same for Oliver.”
And thus they stood, each with a long bamboo in his hand, ready to rush in and help those who might still be alive. Now the thought pressed itself upon me, “Is Walter among them? If he is, will he reach the shore alive?”
Grace and I grasped the rope tightly. Now a huge wave came roaring in, with the vessel on its summit. She seemed close to us, and then away she glided towards the ocean. Oh, how it tantalised us as we saw several persons still clinging to her!—and I thought I could distinguish Mr Hooker and Dick Tarbox. Yes—and there was a slight figure also. “Can that be Walter? Yes, yes—it must be!” I thought.
And now once again the vessel was driving towards the land. On—on she came! Now at length she touched the beach.