ornish coast. Old Paul continued to
groan, seeming unconscious, and evidently suffering great pain. One or
other of his young crew every now and then went below to ask him the
right course to steer, for not even the outline of the coast could be
seen. It was getting very dark, and thick flakes of snow were beginning
to fall. The old pilot probably did not comprehend them; not a word
could he utter. They endeavoured, therefore, to rig a spar on which to
set the trysail; but no sooner did they hoist it than it was carried
away, and at length they gave up the attempt in despair. They could
not, therefore, heave the cutter to, and were obliged to run on. One of
them went below, and endeavoured by every means he could think of to
bring the old man to consciousness. The darkness increased as the night
advanced, and the snow came down thicker and thicker. On flew the
cutter.

"We must be nearing the land," said Jacob Pinner, the best seaman of the
crew. "I wish that the old man would rouse up. I don't like the look
of things, mates, that I don't."

Scarcely had he spoken when a deep, sullen roar, easily distinguished by
a seaman amid the howling of the tempest, struck on the ears of the
crew. "Breakers! breakers ahead!" they shouted.

"Port the helm--hard a-port!" cried a deep voice. It was that of the
old pilot. The sound of the breakers had reached his ears even below,
and roused him up. The order came too late. At that moment there was a
loud crash; the cutter struck, and her rudder was carried away. The
following sea lifted her and carried her on, while other seas came
roaring up, and hissed and foamed round her. Though they covered her
with sheets of spray, her crew were still able to cling to the rigging
and preserve their lives. Providentially, most of the hours of the
night were already spent, for they could not long have endured the cold
and wet to which they were exposed. When daylight broke they found that
they were near the end of a reef, about a mile from the shore. The gale
had greatly abated. The tide was low. Inside of the reef there was
smooth water. If they could launch their boat, which had remained on
deck uninjured, they might save themselves before the return of the
tide, when the cutter would be sure to go to pieces. Though the little
boat narrowly escaped being stove in, the attempt was successful. The
shore was reached. It was close to Paul Petherwick's house, some miles
t