"An ugly looking night this, Mr. ---- as I have seen for many a-day,"
remarked Harry Covering, one of the oldest of the group of sailors, and a
crony of mine. "Sink the Customs! if yon ship weathers Torhead this night,
may I never pull an oar again." "It is, indeed, a fearful-looking night,
messmate, and no time ought to be lost in the present state of the tide in
putting off to her--for if the wind holds in this part, it is great odds
indeed, that she does not go upon the Needles."
The breeze was freshening every moment; indeed the situation of the
strange ship must soon become imminently dangerous. The crew seemed at
last to have awakened from their lethargy, and were apparently making
every effort to enable her to gain an offing and weather Torhead, before
the combined force of wind and flood should render that impracticable. It
was a moment of deep interest. I am not acquainted with any event,
notwithstanding the frequency of its recurrence, that appeals more
directly to our sympathies, than a shipwreck.
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