A heavy noise, like that of some huge flouring-mill in full operation, could be plainly heard above the swash of the waves and the drive and patter of the storm.
"Thunder ?--no, it isn't thunder," muttered Raed.
"Breakers!" exclaimed Kit.

"It's the sea on the rocks,--those cliffs,--isn't it ?" "Trull," said the captain to that old worthy, who was just poking his head up out of the forecastle,--"Trull, is that noise the surf ?" The veteran turned an experienced ear aport, listened a moment, and then replied,-- "No, sir," promptly.
"Well, what in the world is it, then ?" The old salt listened again attentively.

The steady rumble continued without intermission.
"Don't know, sir," replied Trull, shaking his head.

"Never heard any thing like it." "Are you sure it's not breakers ?" demanded Kit.

"I'm afraid we're drifting on the rocks.