the mate had objected; "and with all that corrugated iron in the hold we can hardly trust altogether to the compasses. If we were among the rocks and reefs off the Point of Achnahullichan now ––"
"And what if we were, my man?" returned his commander, with drunken dignity. "Man and boy, I've been afloat for thirty years, and I ought to know every one of the reefs between Cape Wrath and the Moil of Cantyre."
They were bending over a chart sproad on the cabin-table, and the little company of passengers was grouped around them.
"There's one of the reefs, then, I calculate," ejaculated the American, drily, and with infinite promptitude.
For as the captain spoke there was a shock and a long shivering, a rending of timber, and a tremulous rasping that had run along the ship's keel like electricity, communicating with the passengers through their shaking limbs, and shooting a thrill to each nerve and fibre; while simultaneously rose shrill cries and wild shouts from the decks. Then came another shock, like the despairing struggle of a stranded whale, and a duller sound of the splintering of timbers.
CHAPTER IX. – THE SHIPWRECK.
Winstanley forgot his gout as the captain was suddenly sobered. There was a rush for the deck in that first alarm, as of men who preferred to perish in the open, rather than to be drowned below decks like rats and cockroaches. Once on the deck there was little to be seen, but a great deal to be heard. The lantern gave but a fitful light, throwing faint reflections on the grey wreaths of watery vapour. But out of the darkness, that was to be felt rather than seen, came appalling evidences of a general panic. The Highland forecastle passengers, more accustomed to their hills than to the sea, had lost their heads, and were bellowing and "routing" like the cattle. And the cattle, where they had not broken from the fastenings, had been jumbled together in prostrate heaps, and were plunging madly in the efforts to regain their legs. The more placidly minded sheep were bleating piteously; the ship was groaning, though it could not roll, in response to the surf that was dashing against its sides; and the funnel was belching forth volumes of steam and flaming showers of sparks, for something had gone wrong with the fires or the machinery.
In the darkness and the turmoil, so far as could be judged, there were only four men who had kept their heads. These were the young mate, the shock-headed steward, the cool American, and Mr Jack Venables. As for Mr Winstanley, he was in mortal alarm, though he had too much self-respect to show it; and, rather to give himself time to calm down than for any better reason, he addressed a remark to Mr Venables, who happened to be close by his side, and was busy stripping off coat and boots.
"It's all over with us, I suppose."
But Jack's courage was of the kind that is highest in emergencies, and his spirits rose buoyantly to the excitement of danger.
"Not if I know it, sir. We may all get away in the boats; and if not, I mean to try to save myself by swimming. The steamer is upon rocks, and one may find a
