Chasing with the determination shown by the English captain, who had his topgallantsails still set, and with the little warning he would have of the existence of the shoal, owing to the rapid closing of the day, the frigate would have to attempt the channel, and in that way for that ship lay destruction. Save Katharine-- Lose the ship. Save the ship-- Lose Katharine. Love or Duty--which should it be? The man was attacked in the two most powerful sources of human action. He saw on one side Katharine tossed about by the merciless waves, white-faced with terror, and stretching out her hands to him in piteous appeal from that angry sea in the horror of darkness and death. And every voice which spoke to the human heart was eloquent of her. And then on the other side there stood those grim and frozen ranks, those gaunt, hungry, naked men. They too stretched out hands to him. "Give us arms, give us raiment," they seemed to say. "You had the opportunity and you threw it away for love. What's love--to liberty?" And every incentive which awakens the soul of honor in men appealed to him then. Behind him stood the destinies of a great people, the fate of a great cause; on him they trusted, upon his honor they had depended, and before him stood one woman. He saw her again as he had seen her before on the top of the hill on that memorable night in Virginia. What had she said?-- "_If I stood in the pathway of liberty for one single instant, I should despise the man who would not sweep me aside without a moment's hesitation._" Oh, Katharine, Katharine, he groaned in spirit, pressing his hands upon his face in agony, while every breaking wave flung the words, "duty and honor," into his face, and every throb of his beating heart whispered "love--love." CHAPTER XVII _An Incidental Passage at Arms_ There were two entrances to the channel, lying perhaps a half mile apart, the first the better and more practicable, and certainly, with the frigate rapidly drawing near, the safer. They were almost abreast of the first one now. Bentley, who had been observing him keenly, came up to him. "We are almost abreast the first pass, Mr. Seymour," he said respectfully. Seymour turned as if he had been struck. Was the decision already upon him? He could not make it. "We--we will try the second, Bentley." "Sir," said the old man, hesitating, and yet persisting, "the frigate is coming down fast; we may not be able to make the second pass." "We will try the second, nevertheless," said the young man, imperatively. "But, Mr. John--" "Silence, sir! When have you bandied words with me before?" shouted Seymour, in a passion of temper. "Go forward where you belong."