“Shake out the reefs and make sail again,” shouted the captain.
“Go on, and carry out the orders I gave you!” cried Mr Grey. “While I remain second officer of this ship, I will not stand by and let her come to harm if I can help it.”
“Mutiny! mutiny!” shouted Mr Scoones; but the men, who saw as clearly as the second mate the importance of shortening sail, continued their work. Even the boys, although holding him in dread, instigated by Owen and Nat, remained aloft, until they had handed the mizen-royal and topgallant sail, and close reefed the topsail. Scoones, completely beside himself, was hurrying off the deck, apparently for the purpose, from the words he let drop, of getting his pistols, when a long thin line of hissing foam was seen rushing across the ocean.
“Down, my lads, down, quick,” cried the mate.
The boys rapidly descended from the mizen-yard. Then the voice of the hurricane was heard, and a fierce wind struck the ship. In an instant she heeled over, and the close reefed mizen-topsail was blown from the bolt ropes. The helm being put up, she, however, righted, and away she flew before the hissing and foaming sea, which now rose up on either side as if eager to overwhelm her.
“We must furl the main-topsail,” exclaimed Mr Grey, as soon as the yards were squared.
Scarcely were the words uttered, than with a clap like thunder the sail was blown away, and flying out in tatters was quickly whisked round and round the yard. Whatever had been the intentions of the first mate, he now returned perfectly sobered, and taking the command, issued every subsequent order with coolness. He did not however, condescend to praise Mr Grey, by whose promptness the ship had been saved.
For two days the ship ran on under a close reefed fore topsail. The fore-yard had been so well fished that it stood the immense strain put upon it, although most of the crew expected every instant to see it go. Once more the wind moderating, the sorely battered “Druid” hauled up again on her course. The sky, however, was obscured, and the weather thick, and no observation could be taken. Mr Grey had carefully kept the reckoning, and knew, as he believed, more or less, her position; but he found, on comparing notes, that the calculations made by Mr Scoones placed her at a considerable distance from where he supposed she was; he was therefore eagerly looking out for a glimpse of the sun by day or a star by night to ascertain which was correct. The wind was again favourable, and for some days they had been making good progress.
It was night, and the ship was running along with a pretty stiff breeze and a moderate sea under whole topsails and topgallant sails. Mr Scoones, although acting as captain, found it necessary to keep his watch, in which Owen and Nat remained as before. The sky was cloudy, and as there was no moon it was very dark. A good look-out was kept forward, although the keenest pair of eyes could not have pierced the gloom many fathoms ahead. Mr Scoones paced the deck, every now and then, shouting to the men forward. Some care seemed to oppress him. He might not have had the full confidence in his own reckoning which he professed to have. Still, as the proud ship went scudding on across the broad ocean, no one would have supposed that danger was near.
Owen was on the quarter-deck, when a startling cry came from forward.