How calm the water is to the leeward of the Cape!" "Yes; a capital harbour of refuge that.

Let us go home to breakfast." He turned to go, but was recalled by a wild shout from Sam.
"A ship! A ship!" He ran back and looked over into the seething hell of waters helow.

Was it only a thicker spot in the driving mist, or was it really a ship?
If so, God help her.
Small time to deliberate.

Ere he could think twice about it, a full-rigged ship, about five hundred tons, with a close-reefed topsail and a rag of a foresail upon her, came rushing, rolling, diving, and plunging on, apparently heading for the deadly white line of breakers which stretched into the sea at the end of the promontory.
"A Queen's ship, Sam! a Queen's ship! The Tartar, for a thousand pounds! Oh, what a pity; what a terrible pity!" "Only a merchant ship, surely," said Sam.
"Did you ever see a merchant ship with six such guns as those on her upper deck, and a hundred blue-jackets at quarters?
That is the Tartar, Sam, and in three minutes there will be no Tartar." They had run in their excitement out to the very end of the Cape, and now the ship was almost under their feet, an awful sight to see.

She was rolling fearfully, going dead before the wind.