Then came little puffs
from the west. To catch these the colored skipper of the captain's boat
took the helm and tacked, presenting a broad surface of sail to their
force. Houghton tacked also in the same direction, but with his eye on the
westward water, and his hand on the rope which would bring down his sail
with a run. He speedily had need of this caution. There was a distant
roar, the water shoreward darkened, and then, as his sail came down and
the prow of his boat went round to the gust, he was enveloped in a cloud
of spray. At the same instant shrill screams of women and the hoarse cries
of men came from Bodine's vessel.
The fury of the first gust passed quickly. When the atmosphere cleared a
little, Houghton saw that the mast of the other craft had broken, and,
with the sail, lay over on the leeward side. He instantly knew that the
occupants were in imminent danger. Raising his sail as high as he dared,
he tacked toward them with such nice judgment that if he kept on he would
pass a little abaft of the disabled vessel.
"Oh, Marse Houghton! come quick," yelled the negro. "She'm won' float
anoder minit!"
"Bail, you lubber!"
"Don got notin to bail wid!"
"As usual," growled Houghton.
All the rest were now silent. In his agonized apprehension for Mara and
Ella, Bodine felt his heart beat as it had never done in the bloodiest
battle. His careless boatman had not recognized the danger since the cloud
was so comparatively small, and when he sought to lower the sail something
was out of gear and it stuck.
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