Moon Rising Read Online Free PDF Page A

over the abbey, and a distant awareness told me I was cold and hungry and should go home.
    As I began a reluctant farewell, there came an explosion from the coastguard station, followed by the screeching and clattering of gulls. A moment later we saw the fierce red glitter of stars hundreds of feet above, and the slow fall of warning lights to call the lifeboatmen back to duty.
    â€˜What is it?’ he demanded. ‘What’s happening?’
    â€˜Another ship,’ I said, starting to run, and he was with me at once. Dashing to a vantage point above the Battery, we joined a growing crowd. Looking across the harbour and out to sea, it was hard to see anything clearly beyond the black mass of the east cliff and a line of shifting white turbulence below. Then the clouds broke on a clear patch of sky, long enough to show something dark amidst the rising fog of spume and spray. Just beyond the foot of the east cliff, a small vessel was struggling against the mountainous waves, masts jerking and falling in a seemingly hopeless fight for survival. It was like watching a puny child beating against the knees of a towering Goliath.
    Appearing and disappearing with each mighty surge, it seemed the tiny ship was doomed. ‘She’ll never make it...’ Hands clenched, I whispered a prayer for those aboard. ‘Please God, don’t let her be forced onto the Scaur...’
    My companion leaned close. ‘Are they trying to make the harbour? They seem to be heading further out?’
    â€˜Yes, yes – the current’s against them,’ I shouted, ‘it runs down the coast – across the harbour mouth. To make the turn, they have to reach a point beyond the pier ends. But over there,’ I pointed to the jagged face of the east cliff, ‘a shelf of rock juts out into the sea. That’s the Scaur...’ I shook my head, picturing the wrecks, fearing another.
    People were watching from every vantage point, more gathering along the harbour. The tension was palpable. Through driving mist and spray we saw the second lifeboat make ready for action. It was almost dark now, and we could barely see the ship as she struggled to gain distance from the rocks. Time after time we thought she was lost; but her master had both skill and daring. It seemed an impossible manoeuvre, but suddenly, with all sail set, he brought his vessel round. A moment later the schooner was racing before the storm, leaping the seething white waters, diving through waves and spray to gain the safety of the piers.
    It was a mad moment as she came through. After such prolonged and desperate suspense, the muttered urgings of the crowd exploded in a frenzy of yells and cheers that almost drowned the voice of the storm. I jumped up and down; my companion waved his hat, both of us yelling like lunatics before he swept me off my feet and swung me round.
    Laughing and giddy, I clung to him as he set me down. It was a moment in which almost anything might have happened – laughter, a breathless kiss, or even a gentlemanly apology. The tension was broken by a collective moan of despair. The captain had thought his danger past as he gained the protection of the piers; he lowered sail too soon, lost steerage, and the schooner was rapidly driven forward onto the sands of Collier’s Hope.
    Helpless, we stood like statues, picturing the inevitable before it happened. Anchors were dropped to no avail. As she struck, groans from the crowd echoed the grinding, cracking noise of the grounding ship. All around us were despairing cries and anguished faces, a muttering of belated wisdoms, a shaking of heads as people started to move away.
    â€˜I expect the poor devils will be all right?’
    â€˜Yes, I expect so.’ I said miserably, watching scurrying figures and a gathering of lights amidst the gloom on the far side. ‘Nothing much worse than a dunking.’
    His hand, warm at my waist, slid away, and I was suddenly conscious