A man, standing on any one of the points she cleared so narrowly, might have tossed a pebble on to her deck.
"Hey, friends, but she'll not weather Gaffer's Rock.

By crum! if she does, they may drive her in 'pon the beach, yet!" "What's the use, i' this sea?
Besides, her steerin' gear's broke," answered Zeb, without moving his eyes.
This Gaffer's Rock was the extreme point of the opposite arm of the cove--a sharp tooth rising ten feet or more above high-water mark.
As the little schooner came tearing abreast of it, a huge sea caught her broadside, and lifted as if to fling her high and dry.

The men and women on the headland held their breath while she hung on its apex.
Then she toppled and plunged across the mouth of the cove, quivering.
She must have shaved the point by a foot.
"The Raney! the Raney!" shouted young Zeb, shaking off Ruby's clutch.
"The Raney, or else--" He did not finish his sentence, for the stress of the flying seconds choked down his words.

Two possibilities they held, and each big with doom.

Either the schooner must dash upon the Raney--a reef, barely covered at high water, barring entrance to the cove--or avoiding this, must be shattered on the black wall of rock under their very feet.
The end of the little vessel was written--all but one word: and that must be added within a short half-minute.
Ruby saw this: it was plain for a child to read.