Roaring to pass the word to the engineer to give her every inch of steam she was worth, in order to shoot her far enough ahead to clear the rocks, Martin sprang with one bound to the wheel, wrenched it out of the sailor’s hands, and put the helm hard down, so that the yacht’s head flew up in the wind just in time to avert a frightful catastrophe. Immediately on the increased speed of the vessel, she plunged forward into every wave, and all on board feared that each new dive into the rough sea would be the last, for she shipped seas freely, and tons of water swept her deck fore and aft. At the last fearful dive, there was the sound of a sudden snap, as if the boat had touched a rock; she shuddered through her whole length, and after the engines had whirled for a minute with inconceivable velocity, they suddenly stopped. “My God!” cried Martin, guessing the reason of the stoppage; “the propeller has gone! God help us now!” Fortunately, the way the ship ran through the water shot her to the windward sufficiently to clear the Kamila reef, but, as she could not be kept ahead to sea, owing to the fury of the gale, she had again to be kept off, so that the remaining sails would tend to steady her from the violent lurching. All this time the steam was blowing off; and then, the fires being drawn, all the sooty inhabitants of the engine-room, like so many Cyclops, poured on deck, to do what they could in saving the vessel. During the time she was clearing the reef, the moon had withdrawn her light, but now she shone forth in her full splendor through a rent in a cloud, whereupon a sight was revealed which struck terror into the hearts of all on board. “Melnos!” cried Crispin and the Greek in one breath. “It’s all over!” said Martin gloomily. “No screw—only one mast—we’ll never clear that island.” Maurice, straining his eyes through the glimmer of moon and star half-obscured by flying clouds, saw a high, conical-shaped mountain, rising sheer out of the sea, at a distance of about three miles. The snows of the summit gleamed pale in the moonlight, below was darkness, but at the base of the peak spouted fountains of white surf on the jagged rocks running seaward. “It’s kingdom come, gentlemen,” said the captain, with a grim smile, as he looked at that sky-piercing peak looming hugely in the vague light. “The boats”—began Caliphronas, who was quite pale; whereupon Martin turned on him sharply. “The boats, sir! what boats could live in that sea? The jolly-boat is gone—the steam pinnace is pretty well smashed up, so there are only the gig and the lifeboat to save forty-five lives.” “You’ll try to launch the boats, at all events,” said Crispin quickly. “Oh yes! all that can be done will be done, you can depend, sir; but it’s a poor look-out.”