High above the roar of the wind and the clash of the sea rose the shrill half-human cries of the horses, as they found the water rising rapidly around them.
"Stop it from without!" cried Hawtayne, seizing the end of the wet sail with which the gap had been plugged.

"Speedily, my hearts, or we are gone!" Swiftly they rove ropes to the corners, and then, rushing forward to the bows, they lowered them under the keel, and drew them tight in such a way that the sail should cover the outer face of the gap.

The force of the rush of water was checked by this obstacle, but it still squirted plentifully from every side of it.

At the sides the horses were above the belly, and in the centre a man from the poop could scarce touch the deck with a seven-foot spear.

The cog lay lower in the water and the waves splashed freely over the weather bulwark.
"I fear that we can scarce bide upon this tack," cried Hawtayne; "and yet the other will drive us on the rocks." "Might we not haul down sail and wait for better times ?" suggested Sir Nigel.
"Nay, we should drift upon the rocks.