"I am pleased to find you together, for now I can say what I would to both of you.

Blanche, he hath promised to care for you; he is a man of honor, rely on him." A sudden lurch of the vessel sent all three in a heap at one side of the cabin, and, as soon as John could regain his feet and ascertain that the old gentleman and his daughter had sustained no injury, he went on deck.
At about eleven o'clock, they could plainly distinguish a dreadful roaring noise resembling that of waves rolling against the rocks; but the darkness of the day and the accompanying rain made it impossible to see for any distance, and John realized that, if they were near rocks, they might be dashed to pieces on them before they were perceived.

At twelve o'clock, however, the weather cleared a little, when they discovered breakers and reefs outside, so that it was evident they had passed in quite close to them, and were now fairly hemmed in between the rocks and the land.
At this very critical moment, the captain adopted the dangerous expedient of dropping anchor, to bring the ship up with her head to the sea.

Any seaman of common sense and not frightened out of his wits must have known that no ship could ride at anchor in that storm.

John Stevens, though no sailor, saw the folly of such a course and expostulated with the captain, but to no purpose.