The orders were that they were to land at Wolgast on the southern shore of the Baltic.  Scarcely had they set sail than the weather changed, and a sudden tempest burst upon them.  Higher and higher grew the wind, and the vessels were separated in the night.  The Lillynichol laboured heavily in the waves, and the discomfort of the troops, crowded together between decks, was very great.  Presently it was discovered that she had made a leak, and that the water was entering fast.  Munro at once called forty-eight soldiers to the pumps.  They were relieved every quarter of an hour, and by dint of the greatest exertions barely succeeded in keeping down the water.  So heavily did the vessel labour that Munro bore away for Dantzig; but when night came on the storm increased in fury.  They were now in shoal water, and the vessel, already half waterlogged, became quite unmanageable in the furious waves.  Beyond the fact that they were fast driving on to the Pomeranian coast, they were ignorant of their position.

“This is a rough beginning,” Nigel said to his nephew.  “We bargained to run the risk of being killed by the Germans, but we did not expect to run the hazard of being drowned.  I doubt if the vessel can live till morning.  It is only eleven o’clock yet, and in spite of the pumps she is getting lower and lower in the water.”

Before Malcolm had time to answer him there was a tremendous crash which threw them off their feet.  All below struggled on deck, but nothing could be seen in the darkness save masses of foam as the waves broke on the rock on which they had struck.  There were two more crashes, and then another, even louder and more terrible, and the vessel broke in two parts.

“Come aft all,” Colonel Munro shouted; “this part of the wreck is fixed.”

With great efforts all on board managed to reach the after portion of the vessel, which was wedged among the rocks, and soon afterwards the forepart broke up and disappeared.  For two hours the sea broke wildly over the ship, and all had to hold on for life.

Malcolm, even in this time of danger, could not but admire the calmness and coolness of his young colonel.  He at once set men to work with ropes to drag towards the vessel the floating pieces of wreck which were tossing about in the boiling surf.  The masts and yards were hauled alongside, and the colonel instructed the men to make themselves fast to these in case the vessel should go to pieces.

Hour after hour passed, and at last, to the joy of all, daylight appeared.  The boats had all been broken to pieces, and Munro now set the men to work to bind the spars and timbers together into a raft.  One of the soldiers and a sailor volunteered to try to swim to shore with lines, but both were dashed to pieces.

At one o’clock in the day some natives were seen collecting on the shore, and these presently dragged down a boat and launched it, and with great difficulty rowed out to the ship.  A line was thrown to them, and with this they returned to shore, where they made the line fast.  The storm was now abating somewhat, and Munro ordered the debarkation to commence.