Samuel Alexander White

“ The big foresail, sagging overside, held her like a sea-anchor, while the Graywing swept clear and apparently unharmed, luffed up in the gale of wind.
Taylor, heaving his dory alongside with his one undamaged oar, rose on the crest of a wave. Kerrigan and Patterson, waiting tackles in hand, hooked on and brought him, Marie, dory and all on deck with a run.
"We've lost our trap, and we'll lose our schooner too, if we don't get to shelter!" Taylor shouted the moment he struck the deck. "Crack on all you've got and run into Château!" ”

“ It was wild work in a wall of spray for a moment, and Marie caught her breath, her eyes on Taylor like a true Viking in storm or boarding clinging to the stump of the foremast, his fair head steel-haloed by his ax, hurling the wreckage adrift while the wind rose, bringing with it the menace of floe-ice hurtling down. The Esperance, in as bad a plight as they, threatened every moment to drift down on them. Her crew had hauled Pellier and Beauport aboard and were cutting their own wreckage free when the Graywing slowly righted and Marie drew her breath again. ”

“ The Graywing heeled till the rail went under. It seemed for a second that she would never rise out of the trough of the seas, but Taylor, with a warning word to Marie to hold tight, rushed away from her with an ax snatched from the hand of one of his men. He sprang upon the slanting stump of the foremast, at the same time yelling orders in the tumult of the breaking seas. ”