as no guiding light
in the mist. The turmoil of the surf had got louder and rang through the
dark like the roar of a heavy train. Presently Mayne ordered a sounding
to be taken and looked at Kit when the leadsman called the depth.
"A foot less than we reckoned, and there won't be much rise. I don't like
it, Mr. Askew, and if my employer was not your uncle, I'd heave the old
boat round."
Kit nodded sympathetically. He felt he hated the smothering haze that
rolled in front and hid the dangers, but they must go on and trust to
luck. He knew Adam's plans and no arguments would shake his resolve. Half
an hour later a twinkle broke out some distance ahead and Mayne rang his
telegraph.
"I'm thankful for that, anyhow," he remarked. "We'll let her go, but I
have my doubts about what will happen next."
The throb of engines quickened, the gurgle of water got louder at the
bows, and the _Rio Negro_, lurching sharply, went shorewards with tide
and swell. The twinkle vanished and reappeared, to starboard now, and
chains rattled as the quartermaster pulled round the wheel. Then the
light faded and they were left without a guide in the puzzling haze. Ten
minutes afterwards there was a heavy shock, and a rush of foam swept the
rail as the steamer listed down. She lifted and struck again with a jar
that tried Kit's nerve. A hoarse shout came from the forecastle and men
ran about the slanted deck as a frothing sea rolled on board. Mayne,
clutching his telegraph, beckoned Kit.
"Bring Mr. Askew up. He's got to tell me what I am to do."
Kit met Adam clumsily climbing the ladder and when he helped him to
the bridge Mayne remarked: "She's on the tongue shoal. Don't know if I
can back her off and steam out to deep water, but, if you consent, I
want to try."
"I won't consent," said Adam. "We're going in! What's that light to
starboard?"
"The launch; she's in the channel. I doubt if there's water enough for
us, if we can get there."
"Then, shove her across the sand or let her go to bits."
Mayne rang the telegraph and touched his cap. "Very well! She's your
ship, and we have some sound boats left."
For the next ten minutes Kit clung to the bridge. He wanted to help Adam
into the pilot-house, but the old man waved him off. Clouds of spray
swept the vessel and made it hard to see her rail where the white combers
leaped. Now and then one broke on board and poured in a foaming torrent
across the slanted deck; she trembled horr
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