“Ay, there’s the rub,” the captain replied. “The water is pouring in, and the ship is already beginning to settle.”
“God help us,” I cried, “if that is true!”
I wanted further confirmation, and I hurried away to seek the skipper. I found him close by, and as I hurried up to him he was joined by another man, a bearded sailor, who called out excitedly:
“There is four feet of water in the well, sir, and it is steadily increasing. We can’t keep afloat long.”
“Stick to the pumps, Lucas, and do what you can,” the skipper directed. “Get some food ready, men, and prepare to lower the boats,” he shouted loudly to the crew. Then he turned to me.
“’Tis is a bad business, Mr. Carew,” he said hoarsely. “It’s all up with my ship, and I’m a ruined man. But I’m going to save all hands, if it is possible. Where is Miss Hatherton?”
“In her cabin,” I replied.
I had not forgotten the girl, but I had felt reluctant to rouse her until I knew what danger threatened us. Now there was no time to lose, and I hastened to the companion way. At the foot of it, where there was some depth of water, I dimly perceived Flora wading toward me. She uttered a little cry of joy and clasped my arm.
“So you are up and dressed,” I exclaimed. “I was just coming for you.”
“I was awakened by the crash,” she replied, “and I prepared for the worst at once. Is the ship sinking, Denzil?”