“We must wear her round, Mr. Falcon.  Hands, wear ship—­ready, oh, ready.”

“She has come up again,” cried the master, who was at the binnacle.

“Hold fast there a minute.  How’s her head now?”

“N.N.E., as she was before she broke off, sir.”

“Pipe belay,” said the captain.  “Falcon,” continued he, “if she breaks off again we may have no room to wear; indeed, there is so little room now, that I must run the risk.  Which cable was ranged last night—­the best bower?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jump down, then, and see it double-bitted and stoppered at thirty fathoms.  See it well done—­our lives may depend upon it.”

The ship continued to hold her course good; and we were within half a mile of the point, and fully expected to weather it, when again the wet and heavy sails flapped in the wind, and the ship broke off two points as before.  The officers and seamen were aghast, for the ship’s head was right on to the breakers.  “Luff now, all you can, quartermaster,” cried the captain.  “Send the men aft directly.  My lads, there is no time for words—­I am going to club-haul the ship, for there is no room to wear.  The only chance you have of safety is to be cool, watch my eye, and execute my orders with precision.  Away to your stations for tacking ship.  Hands by the best bower anchor.  Mr. Wilson, attend below with the carpenter and his mates, ready to cut away the cable at the moment that I give the order.  Silence there, fore and aft.  Quartermaster, keep her full again for stays.  Mind you ease the helm down when I tell you.”  About a minute passed before the captain gave any further orders.  The ship had closed-to within a quarter-mile of the beach, and the waves curled and topped around us, bearing us down upon the shore, which presented one continued surface of foam, extending to within half a cable’s length of our position.  The captain waved his hand in silence to the quartermaster at the wheel, and the helm was put down.  The ship turned slowly to the wind, pitching and chopping as the sails were spilling.  When she had lost her way, the captain gave the order, “Let go the anchor.  We will haul all at once, Mr. Falcon,” said the captain.  Not a word was spoken; the men went to the fore brace, which had not been manned; most of them knew, although I did not, that if the ship’s head did not go round the other way, we should be on shore, and among the breakers, in half a minute.  I thought at the time that the captain had said that he would haul all the yards at once, there appeared to be doubt or dissent on the countenance of Mr. Falcon; and I was afterwards told that he had not agreed with the captain; but he was too good an officer, and knew that there was no time for discussion, to make any remark:  and the event proved that the captain was right.  At last the ship was head to wind, and the captain gave the signal.  The yards flew round with such a creaking noise, that