The Three Admirals

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Adair feared that the remark was true. Scarcely had the words been uttered, when a flash of lightning revealed the ship parting asunder amidships. The mizzenmast fell at the same time, but the mainmast was seen still standing. In another minute down came the mainmast with a crash, followed shortly afterwards by the foremast and bowsprit, and, high above the roar of the surf and howling of the wind, the rending and crashing of the ship’s timbers could be distinguished.

“There goes all chance of our being able to build a craft,” observed Saint Maur to the captain. “The fragments which come on shore will be so battered and crushed that they will be of no use.”

“I fear so, indeed,” answered Adair; “but we must not show the men that we are disheartened.”

The gale went on increasing, while the sad sounds of the ship breaking up continued, and huge fragments were cast by the force of the waves on the beach, several striking the stern of the large boat, and almost staving her in before she could be hauled out of danger. Though the men could do no more, they stood watching the catastrophe which, though many of them had long expected it, had come at last so suddenly upon them.

As they thus stood grouped together they felt the earth rock beneath their feet in a way it had never done before. Then came a sound far louder than any yet heard. Several of the men cried out that the island was blowing up. At that moment there was a fearful crash, and by the light of another flash of lightning a glimpse was caught of a huge mass of rock descending from the summit of the hill into the water. Another and another followed. Adair and Saint Maur remembered the doctor’s prognostications, and began truly to fear that the whole island was breaking up, and that ere long it might present a mass of broken fragments or sink down bodily beneath the sea.

They endeavoured, notwithstanding, to maintain their own composure and to restore confidence to the men, many of whom were greatly alarmed.

“Whatever becomes of those high cliffs which seem to be crumbling away, I consider that we, on this level spot, have every chance of escaping,” exclaimed Adair. “We must, however, keep out of the way of those rocks, which, tired of their existence up in the sky, are going to find out how they like the bottom of the sea.”

By this time the night was nearly over, and when morning dawned and Adair looked out, not a particle of the ship remained entire except her engines, which, like some huge creature, could just be distinguished, surrounded by the masses of foam breaking on the bar, while over the surface of the harbour and outside along the coast could be seen fragments of wreck of every size, tossed here and there by the waves. Adair heaved a deeper sigh than he had ever done before in his life.

The storm still continued to rage as fiercely as at first, and it was impossible to secure any portions of the wreck except those which were washed ashore in the harbour, and even to do that was a service of danger, as they were tossed about, threatening to crush those who approached them. Still Adair thought that it might be possible to save wood sufficient for the building of a vessel. It would, at all events, give the men something to do and keep up their spirits with a prospect of getting off. The carpenter shook his head when he spoke to him on the subject.

“I am afraid, sir, it will be a rum sort of craft we should build, but if you will permit me to say so, I think if we were to lengthen some of the boats and rise upon them two or three feet, we should produce a better style of craft than we are likely to put together.”