Lawless, vacillating on his feet, and still shouting the chorus of

sea-ballads, took the long tiller in his hands: and the Good Hope

began to flit forward into the darkness of the night, and to face

the great waves beyond the harbour bar.

Richard took his place beside the weather rigging. Except for the

ship's own lantern, and for some lights in Shoreby town, that were

already fading to leeward, the whole world of air was as black as

in a pit. Only from time to time, as the Good Hope swooped dizzily

down into the valley of the rollers, a crest would break--a great

cataract of snowy foam would leap in one instant into being--and,

in an instant more, would stream into the wake and vanish.

Many of the men lay holding on and praying aloud; many more were

sick, and had crept into the bottom, where they sprawled among the

cargo. And what with the extreme violence of the motion, and the

continued drunken bravado of Lawless, still shouting and singing at

the helm, the stoutest heart on board may have nourished a shrewd

misgiving as to the result.

But Lawless, as if guided by an instinct, steered the ship across

the breakers, struck the lee of a great sandbank, where they sailed

for awhile in smooth water, and presently after laid her alongside

a rude, stone pier, where she was hastily made fast, and lay

ducking and grinding in the dark.

CHAPTER V--THE GOOD HOPE (continued)

The pier was not far distant from the house in which Joanna lay; it

now only remained to get the men on shore, to surround the house

with a strong party, burst in the door and carry off the captive.

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