You
may be sure the others were quick enough to make use of the key when they
knew what 'twas, but we waited not to see more, but made for the ladder.
Now Elzevir and I, being used to the sea, were first through the hatchway
above, and oh, the strength and sweet coolness of the sea air, instead of
the warm, fetid reek of the orlop below! There was a good deal of water
sousing about on the main deck, but nothing to show the ship was sinking,
yet none of the crew was to be seen. We stayed there not a second, but
moved to the companion as fast as we could for the heavy pitching of the
ship, and so came on deck.
The dusk of a winter's evening was setting in, yet with ample light to
see near at hand, and the first thing I perceived was that the deck was
empty. There was not a living soul but us upon it. The brig was broached
to, with her bows against the heaviest sea I ever saw, and the waves
swept her fore and aft; so we made for the tail of the deck-house, and
there took stock. But before we got there I knew why 'twas the crew were
gone, and why they let us loose, for Elzevir pointed to something whither
we were drifting, and shouted in my ear so that I heard it above all the
raging of the tempest--'We are on a lee shore.'
We were lying head to sea, and never a bit of canvas left except one
storm-staysail.
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