The wind, increasing steadily, was now whipping the sea into angry breakers that dashed resoundingly against the rocky barrier of the island.  To drift within reach of those frightful destroyers would mean the instant annihilation of the Halfmoon and all her company, yet this was precisely what the almost unmanageable hulk was doing at the wheel under the profane direction of Skipper Simms, while Ward and Theriere with a handful of men altered the meager sail from time to time in an effort to keep the ship off the rocks for a few moments longer.

The Halfmoon was almost upon the cliff’s base when a narrow opening showed some hundred fathoms before her nose, an opening through which the sea ran in long, surging sweeps, rolling back upon itself in angry breakers that filled the aperture with swirling water and high-flung spume.  To have attempted to drive the ship into such a place would have been the height of madness under ordinary circumstances.  No man knew what lay beyond, nor whether the opening carried sufficient water to float the Halfmoon, though the long, powerful sweep of the sea as it entered the opening denoted considerable depth.

Skipper Simms, seeing the grim rocks rising close beside his vessel, realized that naught could keep her from them now.  He saw death peering close to his face.  He felt the icy breath of the Grim Reaper upon his brow.  A coward at heart, he lost every vestige of his nerve at this crucial moment of his life.  Leaping from the wheelhouse to the deck he ran backward and forward shrieking at the top of his lungs begging and entreating someone to save him, and offering fabulous rewards to the man who carried him safely to the shore.

The sight of their captain in a blue funk had its effect upon the majority of the crew, so that in a moment a pack of screaming, terror-ridden men had supplanted the bravos and bullies of the Halfmoon.

From the cabin companionway Barbara Harding looked upon the disgusting scene.  Her lip curled in scorn at the sight of these men weeping and moaning in their fright.  She saw Ward busy about one of the hatches.  It was evident that he intended making a futile attempt to utilize it as a means of escape after the Halfmoon struck, for he was attaching ropes to it and dragging it toward the port side of the ship, away from the shore.  Larry Divine crouched beside the cabin and wept.

When Simms gave up the ship Barbara Harding saw the wheelmen, there had been two of them, desert their post, and almost instantly the nose of the Halfmoon turned toward the rocks; but scarcely had the men reached the deck than Theriere leaped to their place at the wheel.

Unassisted he could do little with the heavy helm.  Barbara saw that he alone of all the officers and men of the brigantine was making an attempt to save the vessel.  However futile the effort might be, it at least bespoke the coolness and courage of the man.  With the sight of him there wrestling with death in a hopeless struggle a little wave of pride surged through the girl.  Here indeed was a man!  And he loved her—­that she knew.  Whether or no she returned his love her place was beside him now, to give what encouragement and physical aid lay in her power.