“No doubt about that,” said Nettleship, “and likely to remain there too.”
The captain at once ordered the men aloft to furl sails.
Our pursuer, not wishing to meet with the same fate, hauled her wind, and stood to a distance, which left us beyond the reach of her guns.
“Roll them up anyhow. Be smart about it,” cried Mr Saunders.
It was done. Then the order came,—“Out boats!”
Every boat was got into the water, and brought over to the starboard side, with a few hands in each.
“We shall have to cut away the masts,” said Nettleship, whom I again passed.
The ship was still forging over the ledge on which she had struck, closer and closer towards the shore. The order which he expected quickly came.
“Stand from under,” shouted Mr Saunders. Some of the men sprang below, others forward. We, the officers, rushed aft. The carpenter, with his mates, and the boatswain, stood ready, with their gleaming axes in their hands.
“Cut!” cried the captain.