Читать книгу Dick Rodney; or, The Adventures of an Eton Boy онлайн

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Notwithstanding my weakness, I endeavored to tighten the brailing of the fore and aft foresail; but how vain was the attempt! The moment I removed the rope from the belaying pin, it was torn from my hand; the whole sail fell heavily loose, and swelled out upon the wind. It flapped with a sound like thunder in the blast, and in a moment, the deck seemed to pass from under my feet, and I was struggling alone in the midnight sea.

To the horror of being drowned was now added that of being devoured by the fishes.

A cry to heaven escaped me, as I rose panting and almost breathless, and struck out to prolong existence. The sea repelled and buoyed me up, for it is by no means so easy to sink as many persons imagine.

The schooner, was lying now completely on her beam ends to port; her masts and half her deck, were in the water. It had filled the belly of the loosened sail, and served to keep her steady; but still the waves washed wildly over the hull. I knew she must soon fill and go down; yet so strong is the instinct of self-preservation, that I soon reached the foremast, climbed into the now horizontal rigging, and seated myself on the row of dead-eyes, through which the shrouds are rove, clutching them with wild tenacity, while drenched, cold, and despairing.