Charlie to the Rescue | Page 6

to a part of the rocky shore where a vessel was dimly seen through the drift.
"She's trying to weather the point," exclaimed Brooke, clearing the moisture from his eyes, and endeavouring to look steadily.
"She'll never weather it. See! the fishermen are following her along-shore," cried young Leather, dropping his sister's arm, and bounding away.
"Oh! don't leave me behind, Shank," pleaded May.
Shank was beyond recall, but our hero, who had also sprung forward, heard the pleading voice and turned back.
"Here, hook on to me," he cried quickly, for he was in no humour to delay.
The girl grasped his arm at once, and, to say truth, she was not much of a hindrance, for, although somewhat inelegant, as we have said, she was lithe as a lizard and fleet as a young colt.
A few minutes brought them to the level shore where Brooke left May to shelter herself with some fisher-women behind a low wall, while he ran along to a spot where a crowd of fishermen and old salts, enveloped in oil-skins, were discussing the situation as they leaned against the shrieking wind.
"Will she weather it, Grinder, think you?" he asked of an elderly man, whose rugged features resembled mahogany, the result of having bid defiance to wind and weather for nigh half a century.
"She may, Mr Brooke, an' she mayn't," answered the matter-of-fact man of the sea, in the gruff monotone with which he would have summoned all hands to close reef in a hurricane. "If her tackle holds she'll do it. If it don't she won't."
"We've sent round for the rocket anyhow," said a smart young fisherman, who seemed to rejoice in opposing his broad chest to the blast, and in listening to the thunder of the waves as they rolled into the exposed bay in great battalions, chasing each other in wild tumultuous fury, as if each were bent on being first in the mad assault upon the shore.
"Has the lifeboat coxswain been called?" asked Charlie, after a few minutes' silence, for the voice of contending elements was too great to render converse easy or agreeable.
"Yes, sir," answered the man nearest to him, "but she's bin called to a wreck in Mussel Bay, an' that brig will be all right or in Davy Jones's locker long afore th' lifeboat 'ud fetch round here."
Silence again fell on the group as they gazed out to sea, pushing eagerly down the beach until they were ankle-deep in the foam of each expended wave; for the brig was by that time close on the point of rocks, staggering under more sail than she could carry with safety.
"She'll do it!" exclaimed the smart young fisherman, ready to cheer with enthusiastic hope.
"Done for! Lost!" cried one, while something like a groan burst from the others as they saw the brig's topmasts go over the side, and one of her sails blown to ribbons. She fell away towards the rocks at once.
Like great black teeth these rocks seemed to leap in the midst of the foam, as if longing to grasp the ill-fated vessel, which had, indeed, all but weathered the dangerous point, and all might have been well if her gear had only held; but now, as if paralysed, she drifted into the bay where certain destruction awaited her.
Just at that moment a great cheer arose, for the rocket-cart, drawn by the men of the Coast-Guard, was seen rattling over the downs towards them.
Anxiety for the fate of the doomed brig was now changed into eager hope for the rescue of her crew. The fishermen crowded round the Coast-Guard men as they ran the cart close down to the water's edge, and some of them--specially the smart young fellow already mentioned--made eager offer of their services. Charlie Brooke stood aloof, looking on with profound interest, for it was the first time he had ever seen the Manby rocket apparatus brought into action. He made no hasty offer to assist, for he was a cool youth--even while burning with impatient enthusiasm-- and saw at a glance that the men of the Coast-Guard were well able to manage their own affairs and required no aid from him.
As the brig was coming straight in they could easily calculate where she would strike, so that the rocket men could set up their triangle and arrange their tackle without delay. This was fortunate, for the wreck was carried shoreward with great rapidity. She struck at last when within a short distance of the beach, and the faces of those on board could be distinctly seen, and their cries heard, as both masts snapped off and were swept over the side, where they tore at the shrouds like wild creatures, or charged the hulk like battering-rams. Instantly the billows that had borne the vessel on their crests burst upon her