Clouds were gathering thickly in the sky; down came a deluge of rain, such as is only known in the tropics, like a thick veil of mist obscuring the brig astern. The water lay deep on the decks before it had time to run off; all sight of the shore was completely shut out. As the steamer plunged into the sea, tugging away at the tow-ropes, Jack could not help believing that she must be going ahead; on and on she went—the rain showed no sign of ceasing.
“It must come to an end, at last!” exclaimed Jack, trying to peer through it at the shore, the dim outline alone of which he could distinguish.
The lead was of course kept going, but as it reached the bottom, it scarcely ran out of the lead-man’s hands. “She’s going more astern than ahead!” he shouted at length.
“Provided she doesn’t go much astern, we must keep at it in the hopes of a lull,” observed Jack to Higson.
Another ten minutes passed. Various were the expressions of opinion on board; the midshipmen were sanguine that they would succeed. “My brother Jack has determined to do it, and he will do it,” said Tom.
“Suppose the hawsers were to carry away?” said Archie.
“There are two of them; if one doesn’t hold, the other may,” answered Desmond.
Jack paced the deck; at length the rain passed by. The marks on shore showed that they had not changed their position; still the destruction of the brig had been delayed, for by this time she would have been on the rocks. Thus far something was gained; still the appearance of the sky indicated no improvement in the weather. “Hoist the signal—‘Prepare to anchor and strike topmasts,’” cried Jack at length. The brig made the answering signal. Preparations had already been going forward on board her, the topmasts were at length struck; still no effect was produced. Nobly the steamer tugged and tugged away. Higson did not offer any advice, but he was ready to give it as soon as his commander should ask for it. “There’s a lull!” cried Jack; “thank heaven, we may do it!”
Now the vessels moved ahead; had the water been smoother, by a steady pull the work might have been done; but, as it was, having to plunge into the heavy seas, the Gauntlet was in the trough of one while the brig was on the summit, or sometimes on the other side, of the one which had just passed astern of the leading vessel. “Here comes a lull—Heaven be praised! Surely she’s going ahead, Higson?” said Jack.
“It may be, though slowly,” was the answer. The occasion was a trying one to the young commander. “She’s doing it now, sir!” exclaimed Higson, with more hope in his tone than he had yet shown. There could be no doubt about it—the vessels were drawing out from the bay, but still the headlands appeared over the bows on either side.