Morton was what is called constitutionally brave, and the calmness of his companions increased his courage. His friend, Dicky Glover, looked at him with admiration; Morton’s bearing gave him confidence. If one who, so short a time before, was a ship’s boy, was so cool and brave, of course he who was born a gentleman, and had long been a midshipman, ought to exhibit even more calmness and resolution. So in reality, at this trying moment, Glover appeared as much the hero as did Morton.
Mr Calder noted both of the lads, and his heart warmed with pride as he marked the courage of his young countrymen, though he grieved at the too great probability of their being cut off.
The greater number of the Frenchmen were all this time agitated in the greatest degree, each man following his own devices; the officers having lost all shadow of control. Some had hurried below to put on their best clothes, or to secure what valuables they possessed; others had broken into the spirit-room, and with cans and bottles in their hands, came reeling on deck, insisting on their officers drinking with them. Some were dancing furiously; others were singing at the top of their voices, but except a very few, no one was preparing for the inevitable catastrophe. More than half were below when it came.
“Secure that coil of rope, and hold on for your lives!” shouted Mr Calder.
The ship struck, the foremast instantly went by the board; the seas furiously dashed up the frigate’s sides, and washed through her ports and over her deck. Each time she was struck, she shivered as if about to be wrenched asunder.
Numbers of the hapless crew were washed away. Men and officers shared the same fate; some were seen for a time struggling between the beach and the ship, but the cruel seas as they rushed back, carried them off, and hurled them among the dark rocks, where life was speedily crushed and washed out of them.
Ronald, Glover, and Twigg, as directed, had instantly the ship struck, hurried below to release their countrymen. The seamen, knowing what had happened, were making desperate efforts to get out of the hold in which they had been battened down. A capstan bar, which Morton and his companions found outside, enabled them to accomplish their object. The English seamen rushed upon deck, for the terrific sounds which reached their ears, and the fierce concussions the ship was receiving, warned that no time was to be lost, if they would preserve their lives.
Morton was hurrying up with the rest, when he recollected the wounded midshipman, Alfonse Gerardin.
“His countrymen won’t help him, of that I am pretty certain, and I cannot leave the poor fellow to perish,” he exclaimed to Glover, who was near him.
“I’ll help you, whatever you do,” answered Dicky Glover, who was as ready to do a good deed as a mischievous one, if it was suggested to him.