imbs by an effort.
Should he stop the engines at once and give himself away. A gust of
irresolution swayed all sorts of bizarre notions in his mind. The
unusual had come, and he was not fit to deal with it. In this passage of
inexpressible anguish he saw her face--the face of a young girl--with
an amazing strength of illusion. No, he must not give himself away after
having gone so far for her sake. "You steered the course? You made it?
Speak the truth."

"Ya, Tuan. On the course now. Look."

Captain Whalley strode to the binnacle, which to him made such a dim
spot of light in an infinity of shapeless shadow. By bending his face
right down to the glass he had been able before . . .

Having to stoop so low, he put out, instinctively, his arm to where he
knew there was a stanchion to steady himself against. His hand closed
on something that was not wood but cloth. The slight pull adding to the
weight, the loop broke, and Mr. Massy's coat falling, struck the deck
heavily with a dull thump, accompanied by a lot of clicks.

"What's this?"

Captain Whalley fell on his knees, with groping hands extended in a
frank gesture of blindness. They trembled, these hands feeling for the
truth. He saw it. Iron near the compass. Wrong course. Wreck her! His
ship. Oh no. Not that.

"Jump and stop her!" he roared out in a voice not his own.

He ran himself--hands forward, a blind man, and while the clanging of
the gong echoed still all over the ship, she seemed to butt full tilt
into the side of a mountain.

It was low water along the north side of the strait. Mr. Massy had not
reckoned on that. Instead of running aground for half her length, the
Sofala butted the sheer ridge of a stone reef which would have been
awash at high water. This made the shock absolutely terrific. Everybody
in the ship that was standing was thrown down headlong: the shaken
rigging made a great rattling to the very trucks. All the lights went
out: several chain-guys, snapping, clattered against the funnel: there
were crashes, pings of parted wire-rope, splintering sounds, loud
cracks, the masthead lamp flew over the bows, and all the doors about
the deck began to bang heavily. Then, after having hit, she rebounded,
hit the second time the very same spot like a battering-ram. This
completed the havoc: the funnel, with all the guys gone, fell over with
a hollow sound of thunder, smashing the wheel to bits, crushing the
frame of the awnings, breaking the loc