Part 6 (2/2)

”You have your wish, then; much, very much of my early life was pa.s.sed on this dreaded coast. What to you is all darkness and gloom, to me is as light as if a noon-day sun shone upon it. But tack your s.h.i.+p, sir, tack your s.h.i.+p; I would see how she works before we reach the point where she _must_ behave well, or we perish.”

Griffith gazed after him in wonder, while the pilot slowly paced the quarter-deck, and then, rousing from his trance, gave forth the cheering order that called each man to his station, to perform the desired evolution. The confident a.s.surances which the young officer had given to the pilot respecting the qualities of his vessel and his own ability to manage her, were fully realized by the result. The helm was no sooner put a-lee, than the huge s.h.i.+p bore up gallantly against the wind, and, das.h.i.+ng directly through the waves, threw the foam high into the air, as she looked boldly into the very eye of the wind; and then, yielding gracefully to its power, she fell off on the other tack, with her head pointed from those dangerous shoals that she had so recently approached with such terrifying velocity. The heavy yards swung round, as if they had been vanes to indicate the currents of the air; and in a few moments the frigate again moved, with stately progress, through the water, leaving the rocks and shoals behind her on one side of the bay, but advancing towards those that offered equal danger on the other.

During this time the sea was becoming more agitated, and the violence of the wind was gradually increasing. The latter no longer whistled amid the cordage of the vessel, but it seemed to howl, surlily, as it pa.s.sed the complicated machinery that the frigate obtruded on its path. An endless succession of white surges rose above the heavy billows, and the very air was glittering with the light that was disengaged from the ocean. The s.h.i.+p yielded, each moment, more and more before the storm, and in less than half an hour from the time that she had lifted her anchor, she was driven along with tremendous fury by the full power of a gale of wind. Still the hardy and experienced mariners who directed her movements held her to the course that was necessary to their preservation, and still Griffith gave forth, when directed by their unknown pilot, those orders that turned her in the narrow channel where alone safety was to be found.

So far, the performance of his duty appeared easy to the stranger, and he gave the required directions in those still, calm tones, that formed so remarkable a contrast to the responsibility of his situation. But when the land was becoming dim, in distance as well as darkness, and the agitated sea alone was to be discovered as it swept by them in foam, he broke in upon the monotonous roaring of the tempest with the sounds of his voice, seeming to shake off his apathy, and rouse himself to the occasion.

”Now is the time to watch her closely, Mr. Griffith,” he cried; ”here we get the true tide and the real danger. Place the best quartermaster of your s.h.i.+p in those chains, and let an officer stand by him, and see that he gives us the right water.”

”I will take that office on myself,” said the captain; ”pa.s.s a light into the weather main-chains.”

”Stand by your braces!” exclaimed the pilot, with startling quickness.

”Heave away that lead!”

These preparations taught the crew to expect the crisis, and every officer and man stood in fearful silence, at his a.s.signed station, awaiting the issue of the trial. Even the quartermaster at the cun gave out his orders to the men at the wheel, in deeper and hoa.r.s.er tones than usual, as if anxious not to disturb the quiet and order of the vessel.

While this deep expectation pervaded the frigate, the piercing cry of the leadsman, as he called ”By the mark seven,” rose above the tempest, crossed over the decks, and appeared to pa.s.s away to leeward, borne on the blast like the warnings of some water-spirit.

”'Tis well,” returned the pilot, calmly; ”try it again.”

The short pause was succeeded by another cry, ”And a half-five!”

”She shoals! she shoals!” exclaimed Griffith: ”keep her a good full.”

”Ay! you must hold the vessel in command, now,” said the pilot, with those cool tones that are most appalling in critical moments because they seem to denote most preparation and care.

The third call, ”By the deep four,” was followed by a prompt direction from the stranger to tack.

Griffith seemed to emulate the coolness of the pilot, in issuing the necessary orders to execute this manoeuvre.

The vessel rose slowly from the inclined position into which she had been forced by the tempest, and the sails were shaking violently, as if to release themselves from their confinement, while the s.h.i.+p stemmed the billows, when the well-known voice of the sailing-master was heard shouting from the forecastle:

”Breakers! breakers, dead ahead!”

This appalling sound seemed yet to be lingering about the s.h.i.+p, when a second voice cried:

”Breakers on our lee bow!”

”We are in a bite of the shoals, Mr. Gray,” cried the commander. ”She loses her way; perhaps an anchor might hold her.”

”Clear away that best bower!” shouted Griffith through his trumpet.

”Hold on!” cried the pilot, in a voice that reached the very hearts of all who heard him; ”hold on everything.”

The young man turned fiercely to the daring stranger who thus defied the discipline of his vessel, and at once demanded:

”Who is it that dares to countermand my orders? Is it not enough that you run the s.h.i.+p into danger, but you must interfere to keep her there?

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