It was useless to attempt to speak.

The weather was perceptibly clearer.
Then all three peered ahead again.

They stood, pressing against the wind, seeking to penetrate the murkiness in front.

Suddenly they were galvanized into strenuous activity.
A wild howl came from the lookout forward.

The eyes of the three men glared at a huge dismasted Chinese junk, wallowing helplessly in the trough of the sea, dead under the bows.
The captain sprang to the charthouse and signaled in fierce pantomime that the wheel should be put hard over.
The officer in charge of the bridge pressed the telegraph lever to "stop" and "full speed astern," whilst with his disengaged hand he pulled hard at the siren cord, and a raucous warning sent stewards flying through the ship to close collision bulkhead doors.