At last Harry shouted out, “Mr Platt, in the second gig, come alongside and help trim sails.” We at once obeyed him.
“What do you think we shall get out of that, Platt,” he asked, pointing to a small cloud which was seen rising above the horizon.
“A stiffish breeze, to my mind, and I hope we shall get it before long,” answered Tom.
We at once trimmed sails, and while we were so employed I saw several cats’-paws playing over the surface. The sails filled.
“Let the boats come alongside, and we’ll hoist them in before the breeze catches us,” cried Harry. “We shall do now, without their help, I hope.”
This was speedily done, but scarcely had we secured the larger boat, the first gig having already been hoisted on board, than the wind filling our canvas, the vessel heeled over almost to her gunwale. But the danger was not past, we had still that fearful wall of surf under our lee. It would be no easy matter to beat off it.
The awning had been quickly unrigged, and the schooner, with as much canvas as she could bear, was tearing through the fast rising seas. We stood on, still nearing the reef. Old Tom went to the helm. The wind increasing, the vessel heeled over before it, but it would not do to shorten sail. The men were at their stations.
“We’ll go about, Platt, and see if she’ll do better on the other tack,” said Harry. “Helm’s a lee!” About she came, but scarcely had she gathered way when a more furious blast than before laid her over. I looked aloft—the top masts were bending like willow wands. I feared every instant that they would go, but it was not a moment to shorten sail. Presently the wind headed us, and we had once more to go about. We now stood on almost parallel with the reef, Tom watching for every slight variation of the wind to edge the schooner off it. All this time, though the current no longer carried us towards the reef, the heavy swell rolling in threatened to set us on it. Night was approaching. It would add greatly to the danger of our position. The ladies had hitherto remained on deck, fully aware of our peril, but showing no signs of fear. Harry, who from the moment the gale sprang up had stood holding on to the weather backstay, now watching the canvas, now the fast rising seas, urged them and Nat to go below.
“I will summon you, if necessary,” he said, in a calm tone. “But we will hope for the best. Remain in the cabin, and keep your cloaks and hats ready to put on.”
They went without remonstrance. I helped them down the companion-ladder.