It was a rather embarrassing situation, but ignoring the last question, I replied:
“We are drifting on the long reef off Oporto harbor, and the pilot says our only hope is to take to the boats.”
“The pilot says so? Where is he? How came he here?” the skipper next demanded.
Master Marshall kindly, saved me from further reply.
“Here he is, Captain Weston,” he said, bringing the Portuguese forward. “He’ll tell you all about our situation.”
Confronted by the pilot, and, apparently now recognizing the danger the brig was in, the captain made no further allusions to our neglect of him, but listened attentively to what the fellow had to say.
Though dumbfounded that he was now for the first time brought face to face with the real commander of the vessel, the pilot made a short and straight explanation of the situation, ending:
“No time to spare, Capt’n, we soon be on reef.”
Captain Weston had but to listen to understand the force of these words. Already above the howling of the wind could be heard the noise of the waves dashing on the rocks, and every moment the sound grew louder.
“Clear away the boats!” he commanded. “Master Marshall, you and your watch may take the first one. Let the pilot go with you. Master Dunn, see that the second one is made ready for you and your men. I’ll go with you.”