HELEN looked up; and there was the ship fast, and on her side. She was on
the White Water Reef. Not upon the black rocks themselves, but on a part
of them that was under water.
Hazel ran down to the beach; and there Helen found him greatly agitated.
All his anger was gone; he had but one thought now--to go out to her
assistance. But it still wanted an hour to high water, and it was blowing
smartly, and there was nearly always a surf upon that reef. What if the
vessel should break up, and lives be lost?
He paced the sands like a wild beast in its cage, in an agony of pity,
remorse, and burning impatience. His feelings became intolerable; he set
his back to the boat, and with herculean strength forced it down a little
way to meet the tide. He got logs and put them down for rollers. He
strove, he strained, he struggled, till his face and hands were purple.
And at last he met the flowing tide, and in a moment jumped into the
boat, and pushed off. Helen begged with sparkling eyes to be allowed to
accompany him.
"What, to a ship smitten with scurvy, or Heaven knows what? Certainly
not. Besides, you would be wet through; it is blowing rather fresh, and I
shall carry on. Pray for the poor souls I go to help; and for me, who
have sinned in my anger."
He hoisted his sail, and ran out. Helen stood on the bank, and watched
him with tender admiration. How good and brave he was! And he could go
into a passion, too, when she was wronged, or when he thought she was.
Well! she admired him none the less for that. She watched him at first
with admiration, but soon with anxiety; for he had no sooner passed North
Gate, than the cutter, having both sails set, though reefed, lay down
very much, and her hull kept disappearing. Helen felt anxious, and would
have been downright frightened, but for her confidence in his prowess.
By and by only her staggering sails were visible; and the sun set ere she
reached the creek. The wind declined with the sun, and Helen made two
great fires, and prepared food for the sufferers; for she made sure Hazel
would bring them off in a few hours more. She promised herself the
happiness of relieving the distressed. But to her infinite surprise she
found herself almost regretting that the island was likely to be peopled
with strangers. No matter, she should sit up for them all night and be
very kind to them, poor things; though they had not been very kind to
her.
About midnight, the wind shifted to the northwest, and blew hard.
Helen ran down to the shore, and looked seaward. This was a fair wind for
Hazel's return; and she began to expect him every hour. But no; he
delayed unaccountably. And the worst of it was, it began to blow a gale;
and this wind sent the sea rolling into the bay in a manner that alarmed
her seriously.
The night wore on; no signs of the boat; and now there was a heavy gale
outside, and a great sea rolling in, brown and foaming.
Day broke, and showed the sea for a mile or two; the rest was hidden by
driving rain.
Helen kneeled on the shore and prayed for him.
Dire misgivings oppressed her. And soon these were heightened to terror;
for the sea began to disgorge things of a kind that had never come ashore
before. A great ship's mast came tossing. Huge as it was, the waves
handled it like a toy.
Then came a barrel; then a broken spar. These were but the forerunners of
more fearful havoc.
The sea became strewed and literally blackened with fragments; part
wreck, part cargo, of a broken vessel.
But what was all this compared with the horror that followed?
A black object caught her eye; driven in upon the crest of a wave.
She looked, with her hair flying straight back, and her eyes almost
starting from her head.
It was a boat, bottom up; driven on, and tossed like a cork.
It came nearer, nearer, nearer.
She dashed into the water with a wild scream, but a wave beat her
backward on the sand, and, as she rose, an enormous roller lifted the
boat upright into the air, and, breaking, dashed it keel downwards on the
beach at her side--empty!