Amongst the Greeks.
Onward drove the sloop of war with the three midshipmen on board to certain destruction. “Heave the guns overboard!” cried Captain Hartland, on the discovery that the last cable had parted. Severe indeed was the pang it caused him to give the order. As the ship rolled, first the starboard, and then the guns on the other side, were cut loose and allowed to run through the ports. With sullen plunges they disappeared in the foaming seas.
“There go all our teeth,” cried Paddy Adair, who even at that awful moment could not refrain from a joke. Even Murray smiled.
“I wish that I were like you, Paddy,” said Jack; “I couldn’t have said that sort of thing just now.”
“Well, but I’m sure that I can’t help feeling as if every tooth in my mouth had been hauled out with a huge wrench,” observed Adair. “There! there goes the last.”
“We must lighten the ship aft as much as possible, Mr Gale, and make sail on the stump of the foremast, so as to force her up on the beach,” observed the captain. “If we can find the beach,” he added in a lower voice.
These orders were promptly obeyed. Every man worked with a will. There was no hurry, no confusion, though all were engaged in the most active exertion. No one seemed to be conscious, while thus at work, that in a few short minutes their fate might be sealed. Meantime, sail being set forward, while the ship headed on towards the shore, Captain Hartland and the master were engaged in looking out, in the hopes of discovering some sandy beach between the rocks, on which they might run the ship. Still they scarcely expected to find what they were seeking for; yet no one on board would have guessed from their looks what very slight hopes they entertained of success. The work was done; the ship hurried through the raging surf. Still the most perfect discipline prevailed; not a man quitted his station. Here and there a few might be seen loosing their shoe-ties, or getting ready to cast off their flushing coats; but no other sign was observable that an awful struggle for life and death was about to commence.
“Where are we driving to, Jack?” asked Adair; “I cannot make out through all this spray.”
“I thought I caught a glimpse of a white patch not much bigger than my hand when we were at the top of the last sea,” answered Rogers. “I hope it may be sand.”
“Starboard, starboard!” shouted the captain. Three hands were at the helm. The spokes flew quickly round. A little sandy bay appeared; it seemed under the ship’s bowsprit; then she was enveloped in a thick cloud of foam; the terrific roar of the surf became deafening. On flew the corvette; a concussion which sent all who had not a secure hold flat on the deck was felt, and the seas came rolling up with tremendous force, heaving her broadside to the beach, and about twenty fathoms from it. Still they did not at first break completely over her; a rock, inside of which she had been judiciously steered, somewhat broke their force.