Thus she hovered on the edge of the breakers, awaiting her
chance.
As long as the seas rolled in steadily, and nothing broke, she was
safe. But if one of the waves should happen to crest and break, as
many of them did, the weight of water catching the tug on her flat,
broad stern deck would indubitably bury her. The situation was
awful in its extreme simplicity. Would Captain Marsh see his
opportunity before the law of chances would bring along the wave
that would overwhelm him?
A realisation of the crisis came to the crowd on the beach. At once
the terrible strain of suspense tugged at their souls. Each
conducted himself according to his nature. The hardy men of the
river and the woods set their teeth until the cheek muscles turned
white, and blasphemed softly and steadily. Two or three of the
townsmen walked up and down the space of a dozen feet. One, the
woman who had screamed, prayed aloud in short hysterical sentences.
"O God! Save them, O Lord! O Lord!"
Orde stood on top of a half-buried log, his hat in his hand, his
entire being concentrated on the manoeuvre being executed. Only
Newmark apparently remained as calm as ever, leaning against an
upright timber, his arms folded, and an unlighted cigar as usual
between his lips.
Pages:
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386