There was an instant when Mr. Leach had
his hand on the main-brace to let it go; but the Foam started away on a
sea, like a horse that feels the spur, and disobeying her helm, shot
forward, as if about to cross the Montauk's forefoot.
A breathless instant followed, for all on board the two ships thought they
must now inevitably come foul of each other, and this the more so, because
the Montauk took the impulse of the sea just as it was lost to the Foam,
and seemed on the point of plunging directly into the stern of the latter.
Even the seamen clenched the ropes around them convulsively, and the
boldest held their breaths for a time. The "p-o-r-t, hard a port, and be
d---d to you!" of Captain Truck; and the "S-t-a-r-b-o-a-r-d, starboard
hard!" of the Englishman, were both distinctly audible to all in the two
ships; for this was a moment in which seamen can speak louder than the
tempest. The affrighted vessels seemed to recede together, and they shot
asunder in diverging lines, the Foam leading. All further attempts at a
communication were instantly useless; the corvette being half a mile ahead
in a quarter of an hour, rolling her yardarms nearly to the water.
Captain Truck said little to his passengers concerning this adventure; but
when he had lighted a cigar, and was discussing the matter with his
chief-mate, he told the latter there was "just one minute when he would
not have given a ship's biscuit for both vessels, nor much more for their
cargoes.
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