Harrigan, who had been flung from the bunk, staggered to his feet.
"What the deuce is up ?" asked the Irishman.
A chorus of piercing yells rose in answer from the deck outside.
"The end of the _Mary Rogers_," said McTee.

"Stay with me, Harrigan." He caught the latter by the arm and dragged him out onto the deck.

The hull of the ship at the bow must have been literally ripped away by the impact against the reef; already the deck sloped sharply to the bows.
McTee raised a voice that rang like a trumpet over the clamor as he gave his orders to clear away the boats.

If he had been a moment earlier, he might have succeeded in getting at least one of them safely launched, but now the _Mary Rogers_ was settling to her doom with a speed which made the crew senseless with terror.

A half-gale which promised to swell soon into a veritable hurricane seemed to be lifting the freighter by the heel and driving her nose into the sea.