"Perhaps that other pilot is drunk," he murmured, and then shut his teeth hard. He was "up against it good and hard," and he realized it only too well. He trembled in spite of himself, and an icy chill began to creep up and down his backbone.
He gave another signal. Then, as he watched, he saw the prow of the other vessel turn toward him.
Quickly he gave another signal, and then he rang for full speed astern. But it was too late. With a crash the other vessel was upon him, though the result was different from what might have been expected.
The _Mermaid_ was a steel boat, while the _Liberty Bell_ was an old wooden one. Instead of the bow of the latter crashing into the hull of the passenger steamer, the bow of the freight boat crumpled up like paper, being smashed into kindling wood up as far as the pilot-house, part of which was demolished.
There was a confused ringing of bells and blowing of whistles, and then both vessels came to a stop.
With the first sound of the crash Captain Turton and Mr. Weatherby were out of their berths, and on deck. The searchlight of the _Mermaid_ showed plainly what had occurred. Neither boat was dangerously damaged, the passenger steamer hardly suffering at all.
Captain Turton took this in at a glance, and then, with the assistance of the mates, he quieted the frightened passengers.
"How did it happen, Nat?" asked Mr. Weatherby gravely.
"That fellow went wrong!" exclaimed Nat, in his nervous excitement. "Whoever was steering that boat gave the wrong signals. I'm positive of that. Twice I warned him to keep away, but he kept crowding me closer, until he rammed me. It was his fault."
"There will have to be an investigation," said the pilot. "I'm sorry this happened."
"Ahoy the _Mermaid_!" came a hail from the other boat. "What's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? Can't you keep on your own side of the channel? My bows are stove in, and you've injured one of my men!"
"It was your steersman's fault," shouted Mr. Weatherby. "Are you in any danger?"
"No, but I'm going to lay-to until morning, and then I want to know who's going to settle for my damage."
"We'll see you in the morning, then," was the pilot's answer.
Nat passed an uneasy night. Though he knew the fault of the collision was not his, he worried lest he might not be able to prove it. There might be an old pilot in the other vessel--a pilot up to all sorts of tricks, who, even if he was wrong, could so make matters appear as to throw the blame on Nat.