Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.Homeward bound.At the date of this story the discharging of a cargo was a much more leisurely operation than it is at the present day; and Bob therefore had several opportunities of taking a run ashore and looking round the town and suburbs of Sydney. The passengers—such of them, that is, as were residents in or near Sydney—had one and all given Bob most pressing invitations to visit them whenever he could obtain leave; and on the day but one following the arrival of the ship, a very prettily-worded and pressing little note had come to him from Blanche Lascelles to say that the friends with whom she and Violet were staying at Cookstown would be delighted to make his acquaintance; so that Bob was never at a loss for a place whither to direct his steps whenever he could get ashore. He consequently managed to see a good deal of the place, and thoroughly enjoyed the seven weeks during which theGalatealay in Sydney harbour.The outward cargo discharged, the homeward freight of wool began to come down, and the stevedores were kept busy all day long screwing it into as small a compass as possible in the hold.Meanwhile Captain Staunton was in great tribulation. The gold-fever was then at its height in Australia. The precious metal had been discovered some years before, but about a month previous to the arrival of theGalateain Sydney, news had come down the country of the discovery of a new auriferous region, the richness and extent of which was said to be something past belief. The result of this rumour was that every idle loafer who arrived in an Australian port made it his first business to desert from his ship and start hot-foot for the gold-fields. If the matter had ended here the shipmasters would have had cause to congratulate themselves rather than the reverse, but unfortunately for them it was not so. The gold-fever had strickeneverybody—merchants even, mechanics, clerks, all in fact but the few cool hands who realised that by remaining in the half-deserted towns they weresureof making that fortune the winning of which at the diggings was problematical; and one consequence of this was that when seamen deserted a ship no one could be found to take their places; and Captain Staunton could stand on his own poop and count at least fifty vessels whose cargoes were on board, hatches battened down, and everything ready for sea; but there they lay, unable to sail for want of a crew to man them.Now theGalateawas not in quite so bad a plight as this; for when the last bale of wool had been screwed in and the hatches put on, there still remained in her forecastle eight good men and true—six belonging to the port watch and two to the starboard—who had resisted all the alluring dreams of fortunes to be made in a day at the diggings. The other eight had deserted in a body one Sunday, very cleverly eluding the police, whose chief duty it then was to prevent such occurrences. The second mate and the cook were also missing. Hence Captain Staunton’s anxiety. On the one hand, he was averse to the extreme step of taking his ship to sea half-manned; and on the other, he was haunted by the constant dread of losing still more of his men if he remained in port until he had made up his complement.At length, however, to his infinite relief, he chanced upon half a dozen men who, in consideration of the payment of fabulous wages, undertook to ship for the homeward passage. They were as lawless and ruffianly-looking a set of fellows as one need ever care to encounter; but, as Mr Bowles observed, they could at least pull and haul, and once at sea and away from the demoralising influence of the grog-shops, who knew but they might settle down into steady serviceable hands. At all events they would not want for a good example on the part of their shipmates, the remnant of the original crew, for these were without exception thoroughly steady, reliable men, although one of them was Boyd, the man who had been shot by Mr Carter for refusal to obey orders.These men secured, Captain Staunton resolved to avoid all further risk by sailing at once. It was true that the ship would be still rather short-handed—which was all the more to be regretted inasmuch as she was in light trim and a trifle crank—but he reflected that he might lie in port for the next six months without securing another man; and it therefore seemed to him best under the circumstances to make shift with what he had, and get away to sea forthwith. Hasty summonses were accordingly despatched to the few passengers who had taken berths; and these all coming on board next day, the anchor was hove up, and evening saw theGalateastanding off the land and heading to the eastward, with every sail set and dragging at her like a cart-horse.The passengers were this time only six in number, namely, Blanche and Violet, Messrs Dale, Fortescue, and Brook, who had lost the contract which they went out in the hope of securing, entirely through the obstinacy of the head of the firm, and a Mr Evelin, formerly a captain in the Royal Engineers, who had thrown up his commission to go gold-digging, and who, thanks to his technical training, supplemented by arduous special study of geology, had been successful to an extraordinary degree, and was now returning home master of a handsome fortune.Launcelot, or Lance Evelin, was a tall handsome man of about thirty-five, with the physique of a Hercules, the result of some six months’ toil and exposure at the diggings, deeply bronzed, clear cut features, half concealed by a heavy moustache and beard of a golden chestnut hue, clear grey eyes, and wavy hair a shade darker than the beard. He proved an immense acquisition to the ladies, who would otherwise have been almost entirely dependent on Rex Fortescue for amusement; Mr Dale being altogether too savage at his recent failure to make an agreeable associate, which indeed he never was, even at the best of times; while Brook, willing though he was to do his best, was too pugnacious, ill-bred, and illiterate to be more than just barely tolerated. Rex Fortescue and Violet, it was perfectly clear, were daily sinking deeper into that condition wherein people are conscious of the existence of two individuals only—their two selves—in the whole world; so that poor little Blanche would soon have found herself quite out in the cold had not Mr Evelin taken compassion upon her and devoted himself to her amusement. He knew London well; and, on comparing notes, it soon transpired that he knew several people with whom Blanche was also acquainted; so they got on capitally together, especially as Lance possessed in an eminent degree the art of making his conversation interesting. Later on, too, when he had thawed a little, he would relate story after story of his adventures at the gold-fields, some of which convulsed his companion with laughter, while others made her shudder and nestle unconsciously a little closer to the narrator.But notwithstanding this Blanche still found time to chat occasionally with Bob. The lad was very fond of steering, indeed he had won the reputation of being the finest helmsman in the ship, and he was always ready to take a “trick” at the wheel during either of the dog-watches, and so give the rightful helmsman a chance to stay “for’ard” and amuse himself with his shipmates; and when this was the case Blanche generally used to seat herself in a deck-chair near him, and chatter away upon any topic which came uppermost.She had been thus amusing herself one evening when, as eight bells struck and Bob walked forward on being relieved from the wheel, Lance Evelin, who had been smoking his cigar on the break of the poop, and watching from a distance the “carryings-on” of the men upon the forecastle, sauntered to her side and opened conversation with the remark—“How singularly exact a repetition of the same features you will observe in some families; doubtless you have often noticed it, Miss Lascelles? Now, there is that fine young fellow Legerton,anyonewould recognise him as a connection of yours, and I have often been on the point of asking you in what manner you are related to each, other. Am I unpardonably inquisitive?”“By no means, Mr Evelin. It is a question easily answered; I am not aware that we are related in the most remote degree.”“You arenot?” he exclaimed in a tone of the greatest surprise. “I am sure I most earnestly beg your pardon; how very stupid of me to make such a mistake; but the resemblance between you two is so very striking that, although no one has ever said a word to lead me to such a conclusion, I have never doubted, from the moment I came on board, that you must be closely related. I am sure I am quite at a loss for words wherewith to express my apologies.”“No apology is necessary, I assure you, Mr Evelin,” returned Blanche. “On the contrary, I feel rather flattered by your supposition, for I greatly admire Robert’s many sterling qualities. And what a bold brave fellow he is too, notwithstanding his quiet unassuming manner. If you feel any curiosity as to his history Captain Staunton will be only too happy to furnish you with full particulars; he can enlighten you far better than I can, and the story is worth listening to; the manner of their first acquaintance especially is a romance in itself.”Lance’s curiosity was aroused; but, instead of referring to the skipper, he preferred to hear the story from Blanche’s own pretty lips; and sinking down into a deck-chair beside her he listened with interest to all that the fair girl could tell him respecting Bob.“Poor fellow!” he remarked when Blanche had finished her story, “and he has never been able to find a clue to his parentage! It is very singular; there surelymustbe relatives of his still in existence somewhere. Did the fishermen who saved his life never make any inquiries?”“No, it appears not,” answered Blanche. “According to Robert’s own account, though he always speaks with the greatest respect and affection of the old man who adopted him, the people among whom he was thrown are very simple and ignorant of everything outside the pale of their own calling, and it would seem that they really did not know how to set about instituting an inquiry.”“Well, what you have told me has interested me so much, and the lad himself has made such a favourable impression upon me, that I believe I shall really feel more than half-inclined to undertake the somewhat Quixotic task of seeking his relatives myself when we reach England. Who knows but that it might be my good fortune to gladden the heart of a father or mother whose life has been embittered for years by the loss of perhaps an only son?” half laughingly remarked Lance.“Ah! do not jest upon such a subject,” exclaimed Blanche. “You evidently have not the least idea what a complete blight such a loss may cast upon a parent’s life. I have. There is my poor uncle, Sir Richard, who has never held up his head since he lost his wife and child at sea. My mother has told me that before his terrible bereavement there was not a more genial light-hearted happy man living than uncle Dick; but he has never been known to smile since the dreadful news first reached him; and though he has always struggled bravely against his great sorrow, I feel sure he looks forward eagerly to the time when he shall be called away to rejoin his wife and his baby boy.”“How very sad!” remarked Lance in sympathetic tones. “I am slightly acquainted with Sir Richard Lascelles, that is to say, I have met him once or twice, and I have often wondered what great trouble it could be that seemed to be pressing so heavily upon him. If it would not distress you too much I should like to hear how he met with his terrible loss.”“I have no objection to tell you,” answered Blanche. “It occurred very shortly after I was born. My uncle was then a younger son, with very little expectation of ever succeeding to the baronetcy, for there were two brothers older than himself, and he had a captain’s commission in the army. He had married a lady of whom, because she happened to have no money, his father strongly disapproved, and a serious quarrel between father and son was the consequence.“Shortly after his marriage my uncle’s regiment was ordered off to North America, and uncle Dick naturally took his wife with him. The regiment was moved about from place to place, and finally, when my uncle had been married about three years, was broken up into detachments; that which he commanded being sent, in consequence of some trouble with the Indians, to an important military outpost at a considerable distance up the Ottawa River.“Of course it was quite impossible for my aunt to accompany her husband into the wilds, especially as she was then the mother of a son some eighteen months old, and the question which arose was, What was she to do?“It was at first proposed that she should establish herself in Montreal until the return of the expedition; but a letter reaching her just at that time stating that her mother’s health was failing, it was hastily decided that my aunt should return to England, taking of course her little son with her.“Everything had to be done in a great hurry, and my uncle had barely time to pack his wife’s boxes and see her safelyen routefor Montreal before he set out with his detachment for the post to which he had been ordered.“My aunt arrived safely at Montreal, but failing to find there a ship ready to sail for England, went on to Quebec, which she reached just in time to embark for London. She had written to my uncle from Montreal, and she wrote again from Quebec, the letter reaching her husband’s hands as he was on the point of marching out of the fort on a night expedition against a band of hostile Indians who had been discovered in the neighbourhood.“An engagement took place, in which my uncle was desperately wounded and narrowly escaped falling into the hands of the Indians. His men succeeded, however, in saving him and making good their own retreat into the fort, where poor uncle Dick lay hovering for weeks between life and death. After a long and weary struggle his splendid constitution triumphed; and with the return of consciousness came anxious thoughts respecting his wife and child. He remembered the letter which had been handed to him as he marched out upon that ill-starred expedition, the letter which he had never had an opportunity to read, and he made eager inquiries respecting it. It was found in an inner breast-pocket of his uniform coat, but it had been so thoroughly saturated with his own blood, poor fellow, that it was practically undecipherable; by careful soaking and washing he at last succeeded in ascertaining that my aunt and her baby had actually sailed from Quebec, but on what date or in what ship it was quite impossible to learn. And that was the last news he ever heard of them.”“How very dreadful!” murmured Lance. “Of course he made every possible inquiry respecting their fate?”“Not immediately,” answered Blanche. “He waited patiently for news of my aunt’s arrival in England; but as mail after mail came without bringing him any intelligence he grew uneasy, and finally wrote to his mother-in-law asking an explanation of the unaccountable silence. This letter remained unanswered; but just when his uneasiness had increased to such a pitch that he had determined to apply for leave of absence in order to proceed to England, it was returned to him through the dead-letter office. This decided him at once. He applied for leave and it was refused. He then threw up his commission, and at once proceeded to England; the fearful conviction growing upon him that something dreadful had happened. He stopped at Quebec for a fortnight on his way home, making inquiry at all the ship-owners’ and brokers’ offices in the place, endeavouring to learn the name of the ship in which his wife had been a passenger; but, strange to say, he could gain no trace of them. Whether it was that the people of whom he inquired were careless and indifferent, or whether it was that passenger-lists were not at that time regularly kept as they now are, it is of course impossible to say, but it is a fact that he was compelled to leave America without the smallest scrap of information respecting his dear ones beyond that contained in the blood-stained letter.“On his arrival in England he proceeded direct to his mother-in-law’s former residence, to find it, as he feared, in the possession of strangers. He then, with considerable difficulty, hunted up the lawyer who had managed Mrs Percival’s (his mother-in-law’s) money matters, and learned from him that the old lady had died some seven months before. And in reply to his further inquiries he was informed that his wife and child had never reached Mrs Percival’s home. The old lady had certainly expected them, the lawyer said, but she had never received more than one letter which my uncle had hurriedly written mentioning the fact of their departure for England.“Poor uncle Dick now found himself completely at a loss; so, as the best plan he could think of, he put the affair into his lawyer’s hands, handing him also the blood-stained letter. This letter was soon afterwards intrusted to a chemist, who, in attempting to cleanse it, destroyed it altogether, and thus passed away the only clue which my uncle possessed. It is now rather more than sixteen years since my aunt sailed from Quebec, and poor uncle Dick has never succeeded in gaining a trace of her fate to this day.”“Poor fellow!” ejaculated Lance, in an absent sort of way. “I’m sure I sincerely pity and sympathise with him. What! going below already? Then allow me to conduct you as far as the companion.”Blanche bade Lance good-night at the head of the saloon staircase; he raised his smoking-cap, and then returning sauntered up and down the poop for over an hour, with his hands behind him, and his eyes fixed on the deck, apparently in a brown study.A few days after the narration of Blanche’s story, Lance Evelin, noticing Bob at the wheel, strolled up to him and asked him for his history.“Miss Lascelles gave me the outlines of it a night or two ago, and it struck me as so peculiar and interesting that I should like to hear full particulars,” he explained, puffing lazily at his cigar meanwhile.“Where would you like me to begin, Mr Evelin?” asked Bob.“At the beginning of course, my dear fellow,” laughingly answered Lance. “I want to knoweverything. Do you remember being found on board the wreck?”“Sometimes I think I do; and at other times I think it must be only the recollection of a dream which has produced a more than usually strong impression upon me,” answered Bob. “Now and then—perhaps not more than half a dozen times altogether—when I have been lying half asleep and half awake, a confused and indistinct idea presents itself of a ship’s cabin seen through a half-opened state-room door, with a lamp swinging violently to and fro; of a woman’s face, beautiful as—oh! I cannot describe it; something like Miss Dudley’s, only still more beautiful, if you can imagine such a thing. Then the dream, or whatever it is, gets still more confused; I seem to be in cold and wet and darkness, and I fancy I hear a sound like men shouting, mingled with the roar of the wind and the rush of the sea; then—then—I seem to have been kissed—yes—and the beautiful face seems to be bending over me again, but I am in the light and the warmth once more; and—then it all passes away; and if I try to carry my thoughts back to the first circumstance which I can distinctly remember, I see myself again with other boys, paddling about barefoot on the shore at Brightlingsea.”“Ah!” ejaculated Lance, contemplatively. “I have no doubt but that—if the truth could be arrived at, which of course it never can be in this world—this dream, or whatever you like to call it, is the faint recollection which still remains impressed on your memory of some of the incidents connected with the wreck of your ship—what was her name, by the by? TheLightning, of London! Um; that’s not a very difficult name to remember, at all events. And the beautiful face of which you spoke—is your impression of it clear enough to enable you to describe it? Or, supposing it possible for you to see a picture of the original, do you think you would recognise it?—Do you mind my asking these questions? No; that’s all right; but if it is in the least painful to you, I will not put them. You see, Legerton, I have very little doubt that face was the face of your mother; and I confess I feel a trifle curious to know how far back a man can carry his remembrance of his mother. I cannot remember anything about mine previous to my fourth birthday.”“Well,” answered Bob, “I can scarcely remember the face clearly enough to describe it. All I can say about it is that it was very beautiful, with tender loving eyes and dark hair, which I am almost sure must have been worn in curls; but I think that if ever I saw a really good picture of it I should recognise it directly.”“You would, eh?” said Lance. “Very well, now go ahead—if you are not tired of talking—and tell me about the old fellow who found you, and the sort of life you led as a fisherman, and so on; it is all very interesting, I assure you; quite as much so as any of the novels in the saloon book-case.”Bob accordingly went ahead, his companion occasionally interrupting him with a question; and when the story was finished Lance rose and stretched himself, saying as he turned to walk away—“Thank you very much. Your story is so interesting that I think I shall make a few notes of it for the benefit of a literary friend of mine; so if you meet with it in print some day you must not be very much surprised.”And as Bob saw him shortly afterwards, note-book in hand; and as this story actuallyisin print, it is to be presumed that Mr Lance Evelin really carried out his expressed intention.On the day following this conversation the wind, which had been blowing steadily from the westward for some time, suddenly dropped; and by four bells in the afternoon watch it had fallen to a dead calm; the ship rolling like a log on the heavy swell. Not the faintest trace of cloud could be discerned in the stupendous vault which sprang in delicate carnation and primrose tints from the encircling horizon, passing through a multitude of subtle gradations of colour until it became at the zenith a broad expanse of clearest purest deepest blue. The atmosphere was transparent to an almost extraordinary degree, the slow-moving masses of swell rising sharply outlined to the very verge of the horizon, while the mast-heads of a far-distant ship stood out clear and well-defined, like two minute and delicately drawn thin lines on the pale primrose background of the sky.Suddenly, however, a curious phenomenon occurred. A subtle but distinct and instantaneous change of colour took place, which made it seem as though the spectators were regarding the scene through tinted glass. All the brilliance and purity and beauty of the various hues had died out. The dazzling ultramarine of the zenith became indigo; the clear transparent hues of the horizon thickened and deepened to a leaden-grey; the sun gleamed aloft pallid and rayless, like a ghost of its former self; and the ocean, black and turbid, heaved restlessly, writhing as if in torture. An intense and unnatural silence, too, seemed suddenly to have fallen upon nature, enwrapping the scene as with a mantle, a silence in which the flap of the canvas, the pattering of the reef-points, thecheepof blocks, and the occasional clank of the rudder-chains, fell upon the ear with a sharpness which was positively painful.The occupants of theGalatea’sdeck glanced from one to another, dismayed; Violet Dudley’s startled whisper to Rex Fortescue of “What dreadful thing is about to happen?” being but the utterance of the thought which flashed through every brain.Captain Staunton, turning to Mr Bowles, who was standing beside him, in low tones requested that trusty officer to keep a look-out for a minute or two; and then hurried down to the saloon to consult his barometer. He returned to the deck in less than a minute, his face wearing a look of anxiety and concern which was very rarely to be seen there.“The glass has fallen a full inch within the last half-hour” he muttered, as he rejoined the mate.Then in a louder tone of voice he added, “Call all hands, Mr Bowles, if you please, and shorten sail at once. Stow everything except the lower fore and main topsails and the fore-topmast stay-sail; I think we are going to have a change of weather.”The seamen were as much startled as the occupants of the poop, by the preternatural change in the aspect of the sky; and they sprang to their posts with all the alacrity of men who anticipate a deadly struggle, and believe they may have none too much time for preparation. The work of shortening sail proceeded rapidly but methodically and in an orderly manner—Captain Staunton had never before in all his experience witnessed anything quite like what was now passing around him, and was oppressed by an undefined foreboding of some terrible catastrophe; but he was too brave a man and too thorough a seaman to allow aught of this to appear in either countenance, voice, or manner; nor would he allow the work to be hurried through with inconsiderate haste; he saw that the men were startled; and it rested with him to steady them, restore their confidence, and so prepare them for the coming struggle, whatever its nature might be.Meanwhile, the atmospheric phenomena were momentarily assuming a more and more portentous aspect. The sky deepened in tint from indigo to a purple black; the sun lost its pallid sickly gleam and hung in the sable heavens a lurid blood-red ball until it became obscured by heavy masses of dusky vapour which had gathered imperceptibly in the firmament, and now seemed to be settling slowly down upon the ship’s mast-heads, rolling and writhing like huge tortured serpents, meanwhile. The silence—broken though it was by the sounds of preparation on board—grew even more oppressively intense and death-like than before; and darkness now came to add new terrors to the scene; not the wholesome solemn darkness of nightfall, but a weird unearthly gloom which was neither night nor day, a gloom which descended and encompassed them stealthily and menacingly, contracting the horizon until nothing could be seen further than half a mile from the ship, and which still seemed to be saturated with a pale spectral shimmering light, in the which men looked in each other’s eyes like reanimated corpses. The ocean presented an aspect no less appalling; at one moment black as the waters of the Styx, and indistinguishable beyond the distance of a cable’s length, and anon gleaming into view to the very verge of the horizon, a palpitating sheet of greenish ghastly phosphorescent light.The canvas was stowed, down to the lower fore and main topsail and the fore-topmast stay-sail, and the men were about to hurry down from aloft when Captain Staunton stopped them.“Clew up and stow the lower topsails as well,” he shouted; adding in an undertone to Mr Bowles, “I don’t knowwhatto expect; but it threatens to be something terrible; and the less canvas we show to it the better. The stay-sail will be quite as much as we shall want, I expect.”The topsails were stowed, and the men came down on deck again, evidently glad to find themselves there once more, and huddling together on the forecastle like frightened sheep.The passengers were clustered together on the poop, standing in a group somewhat apart from the skipper and the mate, awaiting pale and silent thedénouement. Bob, who had been aloft helping to stow the mizen canvas, stepped up to them as he swung himself out of the rigging, and, addressing himself more particularly to Violet and Blanche, recommended them to go below at once.“These warnings,” said he, “are not for nothing. The precautions which Captain Staunton has taken show clearly enough that he expects something quite out of the common; and the change is likely enough to come upon us suddenly, bringing perhaps some of our top-hamper about our ears; so, if you ladies will be advised, I would recommend you to go below where you will certainly be in much less danger.”Blanche and Violet looked at each other inquiringly. “Ishall remain here,” said Violet, unconsciously tightening her hold upon Rex Fortescue’s arm as she spoke. “Whatever happens, I would very much rather be here, where I can see the full extent of the danger, than pent up in a cabin picturing to myself I know not what horrors.”Blanche expressed the same determination; but Mr Dale hurried at once to the companion, loudly lamenting that he had ever intrusted his precious self to the ‘beastly treacherous sea!’His remarks attracted Captain Staunton’s attention to the party; and he at once stepped hurriedly toward them exclaiming, “Good heavens, ladies and gentlemen! let me beg you to go below at once; I had no idea you were here. The saloon is the safest place for you all at a time like this; you will be out of harm’s way there, while here—”“Look out!” shouted Mr Bowles. “Here it comes with a vengeance. Take care of yourselves, everybody.”The gloom had visibly deepened, until it became difficult for those grouped together on the poop to distinguish each other’s features, and a low deep humming sound was now audible, which increased in volume with startling rapidity.“Go below all of you, I beg,” repeated Captain Staunton in anxious tones, “and be as quick as you can about it, please. What is the matter, Mr Dale?” as that individual stood a few steps down the staircase, grasping the handrail on each side, neither descending himself nor allowing anyone else to do so.“My book,” exclaimed Dale; “I left a book on one of the hen-coops, and—”His further remarks were drowned in the deafening din of the tempest, which at this moment swooped down upon the ship with indescribable fury, striking her full upon her starboard broadside, and hurling her over in an instant on her beam-ends. The group gathered about the companion-way made an instinctive effort to save themselves, Rex Fortescue flinging his arm about Violet Dudley’s waist and dragging her with him to the mizen-mast, where he hung on desperately to a belaying-pin. Brook nimbly scrambled upon the upturned weather side of the companion. Evelin, exasperated by Mr Dale’s ill-timed anxiety about his book, had stepped inside the companion-way and down a stair or two to summarily remove the obstructor, and the two were flung together to the bottom of the staircase. Blanche, left thus without a protector, clung convulsively for a moment to one of the open doors of the companion; but her strength failing her, she let go and fell backwards with a shriek into the water which foamed hungrily up over the lee rail.Bob, who had made a spring for the weather mizen rigging, was just passing a turn or two of a rope round his body when, happening to turn his head, he saw Blanche fall. To cast himself adrift and spring headlong after her was the work of an instant, and he succeeded in grasping her dress just in the nick of time, for in another instant the ship would have driven over her, and Blanche’s fate would have been sealed. As it was, they both had a very narrow escape, for Bob in his haste had omitted to take a rope’s-end with him, and had consequently no means of returning inboard, or rather, for the lee side of the deck was buried in the water, of regaining a place of safety. In this emergency Brook, who was a witness of the scene, acted in a very prompt and creditable manner. The rope, by which Bob had been in the act of securing himself, streamed out in the wind in such a way as to come within Brook’s reach, and by its aid he at once drew himself up to windward, and, climbing out on to the weather side of the ship, dexterously dropped from thence a coiled-up rope’s-end, which he had taken off a belaying-pin, directly down upon Bob’s head. Bob at once grasped the rope with his disengaged hand, and with a rapid twist threw two or three turns round his arm, whereupon Brook, exerting all his strength, drew his prizes steadily up the steeply inclined deck until they were able to scramble into the place he had vacated upon the companion.

At the date of this story the discharging of a cargo was a much more leisurely operation than it is at the present day; and Bob therefore had several opportunities of taking a run ashore and looking round the town and suburbs of Sydney. The passengers—such of them, that is, as were residents in or near Sydney—had one and all given Bob most pressing invitations to visit them whenever he could obtain leave; and on the day but one following the arrival of the ship, a very prettily-worded and pressing little note had come to him from Blanche Lascelles to say that the friends with whom she and Violet were staying at Cookstown would be delighted to make his acquaintance; so that Bob was never at a loss for a place whither to direct his steps whenever he could get ashore. He consequently managed to see a good deal of the place, and thoroughly enjoyed the seven weeks during which theGalatealay in Sydney harbour.

The outward cargo discharged, the homeward freight of wool began to come down, and the stevedores were kept busy all day long screwing it into as small a compass as possible in the hold.

Meanwhile Captain Staunton was in great tribulation. The gold-fever was then at its height in Australia. The precious metal had been discovered some years before, but about a month previous to the arrival of theGalateain Sydney, news had come down the country of the discovery of a new auriferous region, the richness and extent of which was said to be something past belief. The result of this rumour was that every idle loafer who arrived in an Australian port made it his first business to desert from his ship and start hot-foot for the gold-fields. If the matter had ended here the shipmasters would have had cause to congratulate themselves rather than the reverse, but unfortunately for them it was not so. The gold-fever had strickeneverybody—merchants even, mechanics, clerks, all in fact but the few cool hands who realised that by remaining in the half-deserted towns they weresureof making that fortune the winning of which at the diggings was problematical; and one consequence of this was that when seamen deserted a ship no one could be found to take their places; and Captain Staunton could stand on his own poop and count at least fifty vessels whose cargoes were on board, hatches battened down, and everything ready for sea; but there they lay, unable to sail for want of a crew to man them.

Now theGalateawas not in quite so bad a plight as this; for when the last bale of wool had been screwed in and the hatches put on, there still remained in her forecastle eight good men and true—six belonging to the port watch and two to the starboard—who had resisted all the alluring dreams of fortunes to be made in a day at the diggings. The other eight had deserted in a body one Sunday, very cleverly eluding the police, whose chief duty it then was to prevent such occurrences. The second mate and the cook were also missing. Hence Captain Staunton’s anxiety. On the one hand, he was averse to the extreme step of taking his ship to sea half-manned; and on the other, he was haunted by the constant dread of losing still more of his men if he remained in port until he had made up his complement.

At length, however, to his infinite relief, he chanced upon half a dozen men who, in consideration of the payment of fabulous wages, undertook to ship for the homeward passage. They were as lawless and ruffianly-looking a set of fellows as one need ever care to encounter; but, as Mr Bowles observed, they could at least pull and haul, and once at sea and away from the demoralising influence of the grog-shops, who knew but they might settle down into steady serviceable hands. At all events they would not want for a good example on the part of their shipmates, the remnant of the original crew, for these were without exception thoroughly steady, reliable men, although one of them was Boyd, the man who had been shot by Mr Carter for refusal to obey orders.

These men secured, Captain Staunton resolved to avoid all further risk by sailing at once. It was true that the ship would be still rather short-handed—which was all the more to be regretted inasmuch as she was in light trim and a trifle crank—but he reflected that he might lie in port for the next six months without securing another man; and it therefore seemed to him best under the circumstances to make shift with what he had, and get away to sea forthwith. Hasty summonses were accordingly despatched to the few passengers who had taken berths; and these all coming on board next day, the anchor was hove up, and evening saw theGalateastanding off the land and heading to the eastward, with every sail set and dragging at her like a cart-horse.

The passengers were this time only six in number, namely, Blanche and Violet, Messrs Dale, Fortescue, and Brook, who had lost the contract which they went out in the hope of securing, entirely through the obstinacy of the head of the firm, and a Mr Evelin, formerly a captain in the Royal Engineers, who had thrown up his commission to go gold-digging, and who, thanks to his technical training, supplemented by arduous special study of geology, had been successful to an extraordinary degree, and was now returning home master of a handsome fortune.

Launcelot, or Lance Evelin, was a tall handsome man of about thirty-five, with the physique of a Hercules, the result of some six months’ toil and exposure at the diggings, deeply bronzed, clear cut features, half concealed by a heavy moustache and beard of a golden chestnut hue, clear grey eyes, and wavy hair a shade darker than the beard. He proved an immense acquisition to the ladies, who would otherwise have been almost entirely dependent on Rex Fortescue for amusement; Mr Dale being altogether too savage at his recent failure to make an agreeable associate, which indeed he never was, even at the best of times; while Brook, willing though he was to do his best, was too pugnacious, ill-bred, and illiterate to be more than just barely tolerated. Rex Fortescue and Violet, it was perfectly clear, were daily sinking deeper into that condition wherein people are conscious of the existence of two individuals only—their two selves—in the whole world; so that poor little Blanche would soon have found herself quite out in the cold had not Mr Evelin taken compassion upon her and devoted himself to her amusement. He knew London well; and, on comparing notes, it soon transpired that he knew several people with whom Blanche was also acquainted; so they got on capitally together, especially as Lance possessed in an eminent degree the art of making his conversation interesting. Later on, too, when he had thawed a little, he would relate story after story of his adventures at the gold-fields, some of which convulsed his companion with laughter, while others made her shudder and nestle unconsciously a little closer to the narrator.

But notwithstanding this Blanche still found time to chat occasionally with Bob. The lad was very fond of steering, indeed he had won the reputation of being the finest helmsman in the ship, and he was always ready to take a “trick” at the wheel during either of the dog-watches, and so give the rightful helmsman a chance to stay “for’ard” and amuse himself with his shipmates; and when this was the case Blanche generally used to seat herself in a deck-chair near him, and chatter away upon any topic which came uppermost.

She had been thus amusing herself one evening when, as eight bells struck and Bob walked forward on being relieved from the wheel, Lance Evelin, who had been smoking his cigar on the break of the poop, and watching from a distance the “carryings-on” of the men upon the forecastle, sauntered to her side and opened conversation with the remark—

“How singularly exact a repetition of the same features you will observe in some families; doubtless you have often noticed it, Miss Lascelles? Now, there is that fine young fellow Legerton,anyonewould recognise him as a connection of yours, and I have often been on the point of asking you in what manner you are related to each, other. Am I unpardonably inquisitive?”

“By no means, Mr Evelin. It is a question easily answered; I am not aware that we are related in the most remote degree.”

“You arenot?” he exclaimed in a tone of the greatest surprise. “I am sure I most earnestly beg your pardon; how very stupid of me to make such a mistake; but the resemblance between you two is so very striking that, although no one has ever said a word to lead me to such a conclusion, I have never doubted, from the moment I came on board, that you must be closely related. I am sure I am quite at a loss for words wherewith to express my apologies.”

“No apology is necessary, I assure you, Mr Evelin,” returned Blanche. “On the contrary, I feel rather flattered by your supposition, for I greatly admire Robert’s many sterling qualities. And what a bold brave fellow he is too, notwithstanding his quiet unassuming manner. If you feel any curiosity as to his history Captain Staunton will be only too happy to furnish you with full particulars; he can enlighten you far better than I can, and the story is worth listening to; the manner of their first acquaintance especially is a romance in itself.”

Lance’s curiosity was aroused; but, instead of referring to the skipper, he preferred to hear the story from Blanche’s own pretty lips; and sinking down into a deck-chair beside her he listened with interest to all that the fair girl could tell him respecting Bob.

“Poor fellow!” he remarked when Blanche had finished her story, “and he has never been able to find a clue to his parentage! It is very singular; there surelymustbe relatives of his still in existence somewhere. Did the fishermen who saved his life never make any inquiries?”

“No, it appears not,” answered Blanche. “According to Robert’s own account, though he always speaks with the greatest respect and affection of the old man who adopted him, the people among whom he was thrown are very simple and ignorant of everything outside the pale of their own calling, and it would seem that they really did not know how to set about instituting an inquiry.”

“Well, what you have told me has interested me so much, and the lad himself has made such a favourable impression upon me, that I believe I shall really feel more than half-inclined to undertake the somewhat Quixotic task of seeking his relatives myself when we reach England. Who knows but that it might be my good fortune to gladden the heart of a father or mother whose life has been embittered for years by the loss of perhaps an only son?” half laughingly remarked Lance.

“Ah! do not jest upon such a subject,” exclaimed Blanche. “You evidently have not the least idea what a complete blight such a loss may cast upon a parent’s life. I have. There is my poor uncle, Sir Richard, who has never held up his head since he lost his wife and child at sea. My mother has told me that before his terrible bereavement there was not a more genial light-hearted happy man living than uncle Dick; but he has never been known to smile since the dreadful news first reached him; and though he has always struggled bravely against his great sorrow, I feel sure he looks forward eagerly to the time when he shall be called away to rejoin his wife and his baby boy.”

“How very sad!” remarked Lance in sympathetic tones. “I am slightly acquainted with Sir Richard Lascelles, that is to say, I have met him once or twice, and I have often wondered what great trouble it could be that seemed to be pressing so heavily upon him. If it would not distress you too much I should like to hear how he met with his terrible loss.”

“I have no objection to tell you,” answered Blanche. “It occurred very shortly after I was born. My uncle was then a younger son, with very little expectation of ever succeeding to the baronetcy, for there were two brothers older than himself, and he had a captain’s commission in the army. He had married a lady of whom, because she happened to have no money, his father strongly disapproved, and a serious quarrel between father and son was the consequence.

“Shortly after his marriage my uncle’s regiment was ordered off to North America, and uncle Dick naturally took his wife with him. The regiment was moved about from place to place, and finally, when my uncle had been married about three years, was broken up into detachments; that which he commanded being sent, in consequence of some trouble with the Indians, to an important military outpost at a considerable distance up the Ottawa River.

“Of course it was quite impossible for my aunt to accompany her husband into the wilds, especially as she was then the mother of a son some eighteen months old, and the question which arose was, What was she to do?

“It was at first proposed that she should establish herself in Montreal until the return of the expedition; but a letter reaching her just at that time stating that her mother’s health was failing, it was hastily decided that my aunt should return to England, taking of course her little son with her.

“Everything had to be done in a great hurry, and my uncle had barely time to pack his wife’s boxes and see her safelyen routefor Montreal before he set out with his detachment for the post to which he had been ordered.

“My aunt arrived safely at Montreal, but failing to find there a ship ready to sail for England, went on to Quebec, which she reached just in time to embark for London. She had written to my uncle from Montreal, and she wrote again from Quebec, the letter reaching her husband’s hands as he was on the point of marching out of the fort on a night expedition against a band of hostile Indians who had been discovered in the neighbourhood.

“An engagement took place, in which my uncle was desperately wounded and narrowly escaped falling into the hands of the Indians. His men succeeded, however, in saving him and making good their own retreat into the fort, where poor uncle Dick lay hovering for weeks between life and death. After a long and weary struggle his splendid constitution triumphed; and with the return of consciousness came anxious thoughts respecting his wife and child. He remembered the letter which had been handed to him as he marched out upon that ill-starred expedition, the letter which he had never had an opportunity to read, and he made eager inquiries respecting it. It was found in an inner breast-pocket of his uniform coat, but it had been so thoroughly saturated with his own blood, poor fellow, that it was practically undecipherable; by careful soaking and washing he at last succeeded in ascertaining that my aunt and her baby had actually sailed from Quebec, but on what date or in what ship it was quite impossible to learn. And that was the last news he ever heard of them.”

“How very dreadful!” murmured Lance. “Of course he made every possible inquiry respecting their fate?”

“Not immediately,” answered Blanche. “He waited patiently for news of my aunt’s arrival in England; but as mail after mail came without bringing him any intelligence he grew uneasy, and finally wrote to his mother-in-law asking an explanation of the unaccountable silence. This letter remained unanswered; but just when his uneasiness had increased to such a pitch that he had determined to apply for leave of absence in order to proceed to England, it was returned to him through the dead-letter office. This decided him at once. He applied for leave and it was refused. He then threw up his commission, and at once proceeded to England; the fearful conviction growing upon him that something dreadful had happened. He stopped at Quebec for a fortnight on his way home, making inquiry at all the ship-owners’ and brokers’ offices in the place, endeavouring to learn the name of the ship in which his wife had been a passenger; but, strange to say, he could gain no trace of them. Whether it was that the people of whom he inquired were careless and indifferent, or whether it was that passenger-lists were not at that time regularly kept as they now are, it is of course impossible to say, but it is a fact that he was compelled to leave America without the smallest scrap of information respecting his dear ones beyond that contained in the blood-stained letter.

“On his arrival in England he proceeded direct to his mother-in-law’s former residence, to find it, as he feared, in the possession of strangers. He then, with considerable difficulty, hunted up the lawyer who had managed Mrs Percival’s (his mother-in-law’s) money matters, and learned from him that the old lady had died some seven months before. And in reply to his further inquiries he was informed that his wife and child had never reached Mrs Percival’s home. The old lady had certainly expected them, the lawyer said, but she had never received more than one letter which my uncle had hurriedly written mentioning the fact of their departure for England.

“Poor uncle Dick now found himself completely at a loss; so, as the best plan he could think of, he put the affair into his lawyer’s hands, handing him also the blood-stained letter. This letter was soon afterwards intrusted to a chemist, who, in attempting to cleanse it, destroyed it altogether, and thus passed away the only clue which my uncle possessed. It is now rather more than sixteen years since my aunt sailed from Quebec, and poor uncle Dick has never succeeded in gaining a trace of her fate to this day.”

“Poor fellow!” ejaculated Lance, in an absent sort of way. “I’m sure I sincerely pity and sympathise with him. What! going below already? Then allow me to conduct you as far as the companion.”

Blanche bade Lance good-night at the head of the saloon staircase; he raised his smoking-cap, and then returning sauntered up and down the poop for over an hour, with his hands behind him, and his eyes fixed on the deck, apparently in a brown study.

A few days after the narration of Blanche’s story, Lance Evelin, noticing Bob at the wheel, strolled up to him and asked him for his history.

“Miss Lascelles gave me the outlines of it a night or two ago, and it struck me as so peculiar and interesting that I should like to hear full particulars,” he explained, puffing lazily at his cigar meanwhile.

“Where would you like me to begin, Mr Evelin?” asked Bob.

“At the beginning of course, my dear fellow,” laughingly answered Lance. “I want to knoweverything. Do you remember being found on board the wreck?”

“Sometimes I think I do; and at other times I think it must be only the recollection of a dream which has produced a more than usually strong impression upon me,” answered Bob. “Now and then—perhaps not more than half a dozen times altogether—when I have been lying half asleep and half awake, a confused and indistinct idea presents itself of a ship’s cabin seen through a half-opened state-room door, with a lamp swinging violently to and fro; of a woman’s face, beautiful as—oh! I cannot describe it; something like Miss Dudley’s, only still more beautiful, if you can imagine such a thing. Then the dream, or whatever it is, gets still more confused; I seem to be in cold and wet and darkness, and I fancy I hear a sound like men shouting, mingled with the roar of the wind and the rush of the sea; then—then—I seem to have been kissed—yes—and the beautiful face seems to be bending over me again, but I am in the light and the warmth once more; and—then it all passes away; and if I try to carry my thoughts back to the first circumstance which I can distinctly remember, I see myself again with other boys, paddling about barefoot on the shore at Brightlingsea.”

“Ah!” ejaculated Lance, contemplatively. “I have no doubt but that—if the truth could be arrived at, which of course it never can be in this world—this dream, or whatever you like to call it, is the faint recollection which still remains impressed on your memory of some of the incidents connected with the wreck of your ship—what was her name, by the by? TheLightning, of London! Um; that’s not a very difficult name to remember, at all events. And the beautiful face of which you spoke—is your impression of it clear enough to enable you to describe it? Or, supposing it possible for you to see a picture of the original, do you think you would recognise it?—Do you mind my asking these questions? No; that’s all right; but if it is in the least painful to you, I will not put them. You see, Legerton, I have very little doubt that face was the face of your mother; and I confess I feel a trifle curious to know how far back a man can carry his remembrance of his mother. I cannot remember anything about mine previous to my fourth birthday.”

“Well,” answered Bob, “I can scarcely remember the face clearly enough to describe it. All I can say about it is that it was very beautiful, with tender loving eyes and dark hair, which I am almost sure must have been worn in curls; but I think that if ever I saw a really good picture of it I should recognise it directly.”

“You would, eh?” said Lance. “Very well, now go ahead—if you are not tired of talking—and tell me about the old fellow who found you, and the sort of life you led as a fisherman, and so on; it is all very interesting, I assure you; quite as much so as any of the novels in the saloon book-case.”

Bob accordingly went ahead, his companion occasionally interrupting him with a question; and when the story was finished Lance rose and stretched himself, saying as he turned to walk away—

“Thank you very much. Your story is so interesting that I think I shall make a few notes of it for the benefit of a literary friend of mine; so if you meet with it in print some day you must not be very much surprised.”

And as Bob saw him shortly afterwards, note-book in hand; and as this story actuallyisin print, it is to be presumed that Mr Lance Evelin really carried out his expressed intention.

On the day following this conversation the wind, which had been blowing steadily from the westward for some time, suddenly dropped; and by four bells in the afternoon watch it had fallen to a dead calm; the ship rolling like a log on the heavy swell. Not the faintest trace of cloud could be discerned in the stupendous vault which sprang in delicate carnation and primrose tints from the encircling horizon, passing through a multitude of subtle gradations of colour until it became at the zenith a broad expanse of clearest purest deepest blue. The atmosphere was transparent to an almost extraordinary degree, the slow-moving masses of swell rising sharply outlined to the very verge of the horizon, while the mast-heads of a far-distant ship stood out clear and well-defined, like two minute and delicately drawn thin lines on the pale primrose background of the sky.

Suddenly, however, a curious phenomenon occurred. A subtle but distinct and instantaneous change of colour took place, which made it seem as though the spectators were regarding the scene through tinted glass. All the brilliance and purity and beauty of the various hues had died out. The dazzling ultramarine of the zenith became indigo; the clear transparent hues of the horizon thickened and deepened to a leaden-grey; the sun gleamed aloft pallid and rayless, like a ghost of its former self; and the ocean, black and turbid, heaved restlessly, writhing as if in torture. An intense and unnatural silence, too, seemed suddenly to have fallen upon nature, enwrapping the scene as with a mantle, a silence in which the flap of the canvas, the pattering of the reef-points, thecheepof blocks, and the occasional clank of the rudder-chains, fell upon the ear with a sharpness which was positively painful.

The occupants of theGalatea’sdeck glanced from one to another, dismayed; Violet Dudley’s startled whisper to Rex Fortescue of “What dreadful thing is about to happen?” being but the utterance of the thought which flashed through every brain.

Captain Staunton, turning to Mr Bowles, who was standing beside him, in low tones requested that trusty officer to keep a look-out for a minute or two; and then hurried down to the saloon to consult his barometer. He returned to the deck in less than a minute, his face wearing a look of anxiety and concern which was very rarely to be seen there.

“The glass has fallen a full inch within the last half-hour” he muttered, as he rejoined the mate.

Then in a louder tone of voice he added, “Call all hands, Mr Bowles, if you please, and shorten sail at once. Stow everything except the lower fore and main topsails and the fore-topmast stay-sail; I think we are going to have a change of weather.”

The seamen were as much startled as the occupants of the poop, by the preternatural change in the aspect of the sky; and they sprang to their posts with all the alacrity of men who anticipate a deadly struggle, and believe they may have none too much time for preparation. The work of shortening sail proceeded rapidly but methodically and in an orderly manner—Captain Staunton had never before in all his experience witnessed anything quite like what was now passing around him, and was oppressed by an undefined foreboding of some terrible catastrophe; but he was too brave a man and too thorough a seaman to allow aught of this to appear in either countenance, voice, or manner; nor would he allow the work to be hurried through with inconsiderate haste; he saw that the men were startled; and it rested with him to steady them, restore their confidence, and so prepare them for the coming struggle, whatever its nature might be.

Meanwhile, the atmospheric phenomena were momentarily assuming a more and more portentous aspect. The sky deepened in tint from indigo to a purple black; the sun lost its pallid sickly gleam and hung in the sable heavens a lurid blood-red ball until it became obscured by heavy masses of dusky vapour which had gathered imperceptibly in the firmament, and now seemed to be settling slowly down upon the ship’s mast-heads, rolling and writhing like huge tortured serpents, meanwhile. The silence—broken though it was by the sounds of preparation on board—grew even more oppressively intense and death-like than before; and darkness now came to add new terrors to the scene; not the wholesome solemn darkness of nightfall, but a weird unearthly gloom which was neither night nor day, a gloom which descended and encompassed them stealthily and menacingly, contracting the horizon until nothing could be seen further than half a mile from the ship, and which still seemed to be saturated with a pale spectral shimmering light, in the which men looked in each other’s eyes like reanimated corpses. The ocean presented an aspect no less appalling; at one moment black as the waters of the Styx, and indistinguishable beyond the distance of a cable’s length, and anon gleaming into view to the very verge of the horizon, a palpitating sheet of greenish ghastly phosphorescent light.

The canvas was stowed, down to the lower fore and main topsail and the fore-topmast stay-sail, and the men were about to hurry down from aloft when Captain Staunton stopped them.

“Clew up and stow the lower topsails as well,” he shouted; adding in an undertone to Mr Bowles, “I don’t knowwhatto expect; but it threatens to be something terrible; and the less canvas we show to it the better. The stay-sail will be quite as much as we shall want, I expect.”

The topsails were stowed, and the men came down on deck again, evidently glad to find themselves there once more, and huddling together on the forecastle like frightened sheep.

The passengers were clustered together on the poop, standing in a group somewhat apart from the skipper and the mate, awaiting pale and silent thedénouement. Bob, who had been aloft helping to stow the mizen canvas, stepped up to them as he swung himself out of the rigging, and, addressing himself more particularly to Violet and Blanche, recommended them to go below at once.

“These warnings,” said he, “are not for nothing. The precautions which Captain Staunton has taken show clearly enough that he expects something quite out of the common; and the change is likely enough to come upon us suddenly, bringing perhaps some of our top-hamper about our ears; so, if you ladies will be advised, I would recommend you to go below where you will certainly be in much less danger.”

Blanche and Violet looked at each other inquiringly. “Ishall remain here,” said Violet, unconsciously tightening her hold upon Rex Fortescue’s arm as she spoke. “Whatever happens, I would very much rather be here, where I can see the full extent of the danger, than pent up in a cabin picturing to myself I know not what horrors.”

Blanche expressed the same determination; but Mr Dale hurried at once to the companion, loudly lamenting that he had ever intrusted his precious self to the ‘beastly treacherous sea!’

His remarks attracted Captain Staunton’s attention to the party; and he at once stepped hurriedly toward them exclaiming, “Good heavens, ladies and gentlemen! let me beg you to go below at once; I had no idea you were here. The saloon is the safest place for you all at a time like this; you will be out of harm’s way there, while here—”

“Look out!” shouted Mr Bowles. “Here it comes with a vengeance. Take care of yourselves, everybody.”

The gloom had visibly deepened, until it became difficult for those grouped together on the poop to distinguish each other’s features, and a low deep humming sound was now audible, which increased in volume with startling rapidity.

“Go below all of you, I beg,” repeated Captain Staunton in anxious tones, “and be as quick as you can about it, please. What is the matter, Mr Dale?” as that individual stood a few steps down the staircase, grasping the handrail on each side, neither descending himself nor allowing anyone else to do so.

“My book,” exclaimed Dale; “I left a book on one of the hen-coops, and—”

His further remarks were drowned in the deafening din of the tempest, which at this moment swooped down upon the ship with indescribable fury, striking her full upon her starboard broadside, and hurling her over in an instant on her beam-ends. The group gathered about the companion-way made an instinctive effort to save themselves, Rex Fortescue flinging his arm about Violet Dudley’s waist and dragging her with him to the mizen-mast, where he hung on desperately to a belaying-pin. Brook nimbly scrambled upon the upturned weather side of the companion. Evelin, exasperated by Mr Dale’s ill-timed anxiety about his book, had stepped inside the companion-way and down a stair or two to summarily remove the obstructor, and the two were flung together to the bottom of the staircase. Blanche, left thus without a protector, clung convulsively for a moment to one of the open doors of the companion; but her strength failing her, she let go and fell backwards with a shriek into the water which foamed hungrily up over the lee rail.

Bob, who had made a spring for the weather mizen rigging, was just passing a turn or two of a rope round his body when, happening to turn his head, he saw Blanche fall. To cast himself adrift and spring headlong after her was the work of an instant, and he succeeded in grasping her dress just in the nick of time, for in another instant the ship would have driven over her, and Blanche’s fate would have been sealed. As it was, they both had a very narrow escape, for Bob in his haste had omitted to take a rope’s-end with him, and had consequently no means of returning inboard, or rather, for the lee side of the deck was buried in the water, of regaining a place of safety. In this emergency Brook, who was a witness of the scene, acted in a very prompt and creditable manner. The rope, by which Bob had been in the act of securing himself, streamed out in the wind in such a way as to come within Brook’s reach, and by its aid he at once drew himself up to windward, and, climbing out on to the weather side of the ship, dexterously dropped from thence a coiled-up rope’s-end, which he had taken off a belaying-pin, directly down upon Bob’s head. Bob at once grasped the rope with his disengaged hand, and with a rapid twist threw two or three turns round his arm, whereupon Brook, exerting all his strength, drew his prizes steadily up the steeply inclined deck until they were able to scramble into the place he had vacated upon the companion.

Chapter Six.Dismasted.As the hurricane swooped down upon the ship, Captain Staunton and Mr Bowles sprang with one accord aft to the helm. It was well that they did so; for when the vessel was thrown upon her beam-ends the wheel flew suddenly and violently round, taking unawares the unfortunate man who was stationed at it and hurling him far over the lee quarter into the sea, where he immediately sank, being probably disabled by a blow from the rapidly revolving spokes. The two officers saw in a moment that the poor fellow was irretrievably lost, so without wasting time in useless efforts to save him they devoted themselves forthwith to the task of preserving the ship. The wheel was put hard up, with the object of getting the craft before the wind; and then the two men stood anxiously watching and awaiting the result. Two or three minutes passed, and there still lay the ship prone on her side, with her lee topsail and lower yard-arms dipping in the water, she wouldnotpay off.“Bowles,” said Captain Staunton, lashing the wheel as he spoke, “make your way forward; muster the carpenter and one or two of the most reliable men you have, and bring them aft with axes to cut away the mizen-mast; wemustget her before it somehow; should it come any stronger she will ‘turn the turtle’ with us. Station your men; but do not cut until I hold up my hand.”Mr Bowles nodded his head; and then set out upon his difficult journey, climbing up to windward by the grating upon which the helmsman usually stood, and then working his way along the deck by grasping the bulwarks, which on the poop were only about a foot above the deck. On reaching the wake of the mizen-mast he was compelled to pause in order to help Rex Fortescue and Violet out of their dangerous position, a position of course altogether untenable now that the order had been given to cut away the mast. This, with Brook’s assistance, he with some difficulty accomplished, landing them safely alongside Blanche and Bob upon the companion. The slight delay thus incurred threatened to have the most disastrous consequences; for when the chief mate was once more free to proceed upon his errand he became aware that the ship’s inclination had sensibly increased, to such an extent indeed that he momentarily expected to feel her rolling bottom-up. Glancing aft once more, he caught the eye of Captain Staunton, who immediately raised his hand. This the mate took to mean an order to cut away the mast with all possible expedition; and whipping out his keen broad-bladed knife he thrust it into Brook’s hand, and tapping the lanyards of the mizen rigging roared in his ear the one word “Cut.”Then without pausing another instant he proceeded as rapidly as he could forward, much impeded by the continuous blinding shower of spindrift which swept across the vessel, and compelled to cling with all his strength to whatever he laid hold of in his progress, in order to escape being literally blown away.Meanwhile Brook, who now showed that he was made of far better stuff than anyone had hitherto suspected, began without a moment’s delay to vigorously attack the rigid and tightly strained lanyards of the weather mizen rigging, being speedily joined by Bob, who turned Blanche over to Rex Fortescue’s care the moment he saw that he could be of use. Steadily and rapidly they hacked and notched away at the hard rope, working literally for their lives, for it was now no longer possible to doubt that theGalateawas slowly but surely capsizing. The upturned side which supported them was becoming every moment more nearly horizontal, the lee yard-arms were steadily burying themselves deeper and deeper in the water, and it became apparent that unless relieved, another minute would see the ship bottom-up. Mr Bowles, meanwhile, was out of sight forward, hidden by the gloom and the cloud of spindrift.At last one of the lanyards was severed by the keen blade in Brook’s hand. The others attached to the same shroud immediately began to render through the deadeye, throwing an extra strain upon the lanyards of the other shrouds, one of which immediately parted under Bob’s knife; thentwang, twang, twang, one after the other, they rapidly yielded, until, as the last lanyard parted,crashwent the mizen-mast short off by the deck and away to leeward, carrying away the saloon skylight as it went.A perceptible shock was felt as the mast went over the side, and every one watched anxiously to see what the effect would be. The disappointment was extreme when it was seen that the relief was not sufficient to enable the ship to recover herself; she still lay down upon her side, and though she now no longer threatened momentarily to capsize, she neither righted nor paid off.The chief mate now reappeared upon the poop, having by this time mustered a gang of men, whom he had left clinging to the main-rigging, thinking it not unlikely the main-mast would also have to go.By the time he reached Captain Staunton’s side the mind of the latter was made up.“It is no good, Bowles,” he said; “she will do nothing; we must part with the main-mast also. Cut it away at once, and let us get her upon an even keel again if we can.”Mr Bowles hurried forward, and as soon as he became visible to the men clustered about the main-rigging he made a sign to them to cut. The axes gleamed in the darkened air, a few rapid strokes were struck upon the lanyards of the rigging, and the main-mast bowed, crashed off at about ten feet from the deck, and was carried by the wind clear of the lee rail into the sea.Another shock, almost as if the ship had struck something, accompanied the fall of the main-mast, and then, laboriously at first but finally with an almost sudden jerk, theGalateaswung upright, and, paying off at the same time, began to draw through the water, her speed increasing to some seven knots when she got fairly away before the wind, and was relieved of the wreckage towing alongside.The well was sounded, and to everybody’s intense relief some six inches only of water was found in the hold. The pumps were rigged, manned, and set to work, and the water was so speedily got rid of as to show that it had penetrated only through some portion of the upper works.The first mad fury of the hurricane was by this time over, but it still blew far too heavily to admit of any other course than running dead before it. The sea, which had hitherto been a level plane of fleecy white foam, now showed symptoms of rising, and the aspect of the sky was still such as to force upon the voyagers the conclusion that they were not yet by any means out of danger. Whatcouldbe done, however,wasdone; and the entire crew were set to work, some to get up preventer back-stays and secure the fore-mast, and others to convert the spare spars into jury-masts.The passengers, meanwhile, had made their way down into the saloon directly the ship recovered herself, where they found Lance Evelin pale, dazed, and barely conscious, bleeding from a very ugly wound in the temple caused by his having fallen heavily against the brass-bound edge of one of the saloon stairs. Mrs Staunton was doing her best single-handed to staunch the blood and bind up the wound, with little May on her knees beside the patient, sobbing as though her tender child’s heart would break, for Lance had taken greatly to the sweet little creature, and, grave and quiet though he was in general, was always ready to romp with her or tell her the most marvellous tales. Mr Dale had retired to his cabin and shut himself in. The new arrivals very promptly afforded their assistance, and in a short time Lance was laid carefully in his berth, and packed there with flags, shawls, and other yielding materials in such a way as to prevent the increasing motion of the ship from causing him any avoidable discomfort.Dinner that day was a very comfortless meal. By the time that it was served the sea had risen so much as to render the “fiddles” necessary on the cabin table, and even with their aid it was difficult to prevent the viands from being scattered upon the floor. The ship, running before the wind, and with only the fore-mast to steady her, rolled like a hogshead, and the act of dining was therefore quite an acrobatic performance, demanding so much activity of eye and hand as to completely mar the enjoyment of the good things which, in spite of the weather, graced the board.The conversation at table turned naturally upon the disaster which had befallen the ship; the passengers being all curious to know how it would affect them.“I suppose it means another beastly detention,” grumbled Dale. “The ship can’t sail all the way to England with only one mast, can she, captain?”“Well, scarcely,” replied Captain Staunton. “The trip homemightbe made under jury-masts; but it would be a longer and more tedious voyage than any of us would care for, I fancy, and at all events I have no intention of attempting it. Our nearest port is Otago; but as we are pretty certain to get westerly winds again as soon as this breeze has piped itself out, and as the current would also be against us if we attempted to return to the westward, I shall endeavour to reach Valparaiso, where we may hope to restore the poor old barkie’s clipped wings.”“Umph! I thought so,” snarled Dale. “And how long shall we be detained at that wretched hole?”“It will depend on circumstances,” answered Captain Staunton, “but I think you may reckon on being a month there.”“A month!” ejaculated Dale, too much disgusted to say another word.“A month!” exclaimed Rex Fortescue, “Jolly! I shall explore the Andes and do a little shooting. I daresay Evelin will join me—or us rather—for I suppose you will go as well, won’t you, Brook?”“Oh yes, I’ll go, certainly; ’tain’t often as I has a holiday, so I may as well take one when I can get it. But what’s them Handles we’re to explore, Mr Fortescue? Mr Dale ’ll come with us too, I’m sure; he’s fond of sleeping in a tent, ain’t you, sir?”“Don’tbe such a fool, Brook,” retorted that worthy. “If ever we get to Valparaiso, which I think is very doubtful, I shall go home overland.”“I am afraid that before you can do that, Mr Dale, you or someone else will have to bridge the Atlantic,” remarked Captain Staunton, as he leisurely sipped his wine. “I am extremely sorry for the untoward event which has interrupted our voyage, but it was one of those occurrences which no skill or foresight could have prevented, so I think the best thing you can do is to make as light of it as possible. Worse things than being dismasted have happened at sea before now, and I, for one, am sincerely thankful that we are still above water instead of beneath it, as seemed more than likely at one time.”So saying the skipper rose, and with a bow left the saloon for the deck.The sky still looked wild, but there were occasional momentary breaks in it, through which the lustrous stars of the southern heavens beamed gloriously down for an instant ere they were shut in again by the scurrying clouds; and the sea, which now ran high, afforded a magnificent spectacle as the huge billows raced after the ship, each with its foaming crest a cataract of liquid fire. And as the ship rolled, and the water washed impetuously across her decks, the dark planking gleamed with millions of tiny fairy-like stars, which waxed and waned with every oscillation of the vessel. The fore-mast had by this time been made secure, and, it being too dark to work any longer to advantage, the men were busy re-lashing the spars which had been cast adrift in the process of overhauling and selecting those most suitable for jury-masts. Mr Bowles, who had hurried up from the saloon after swallowing the merest apology for a dinner, had charge of the deck; and Captain Staunton joining him, the pair began to discuss the future with its plans and probabilities.Two days later saw theGalateamaking her way to the northward and eastward under a very respectable jury barque-rig, which enabled her to show her fore-topmast stay-sail, reefed fore-sail, and double-reefed fore-topsail on the fore-mast; a main topsail with topgallant-sail over it on the spar which did duty for a main-mast; and a reefed mizen set upon the jib-boom, which had been rigged in, passed aft, and set on end, properly stayed, with its heel stepped down through the hole in the poop from which the mizen-mast had erstwhile sprung.The gale had blown itself out; the sea was rapidly going down; the wind had hauled round from the westward once more; and the ship was slipping along at the rate of some five knots an hour. The minor damages had all been made good, excepting that done to the saloon skylight by the fall of the mizen-mast, and upon this job the carpenter, who was an ambitious man in his own way and not altogether devoid of taste, was taxing his skill to the utmost in an effort to make the new skylight both a stronger and a more handsome piece of work than its predecessor. The barometer was slowly but steadily rising; and everything seemed to point in the direction of fine weather. Lucky was it for our voyagers that such was the case.The passengers had by this time got over their recent alarm, and were settling back into their old ways. Even the impatient and discontented Dale seemed to have got over to a great extent his annoyance at the delay which the loss of the masts involved; and, catching the contagion of the good spirits which animated the rest of the party, was actually betrayed into an effort or two to make himself agreeable that evening at the dinner-table. So amiable was this generally irritable individual that he positively listened with equanimity to the plans which Fortescue and Evelin—the latter with a broad patch of plaster across his brow—were discussing relative to a properly organised sporting excursion into the Cordilleras—or Andes, as they indifferently termed them, much to the perplexity of Brook—nor did he allow himself to show any signs of annoyance when the last-named individual sought to ruffle his (Dale’s) feathers, as he elegantly termed it, by urging him to join the expedition; on the contrary, to the secret but carefully concealed consternation of Rex and Lance, the prime movers in the matter, Mr Dale seemed more than half disposed to yield to Brook’s jesting entreaties that he would make one of the party. It almost seemed as though this intensely selfish and egotistical individual were at last becoming ashamed of his own behaviour and had resolved upon an attempt to improve it.Dinner over, the ladies retired to the poop to witness the sunset, Rex and Lance accompanying them; while Dale and Brook remained below, lingering over their wine.“Oh, how refreshing this cool evening breeze is, after the closeness and heat of the saloon!” exclaimed Violet as, leaning on Rex Fortescue’s arm, she gazed astern where the sun was just sinking out of sight beneath the purple horizon, leaving behind him a cloudless sky which glowed in his track with purest gold and rose tints, merging insensibly into a clear ultramarine, deepening in tone as the eye travelled up to the zenith and thence downward toward the eastern quarter where, almost before the upper rim of the sun’s golden disc had sunk out of sight, a great star beamed out from the velvety background, glowing with that soft mellow effulgence which seems peculiar to southern skies.“Yes,” responded Rex, “itiscool and decidedly pleasant. Do you not think it is almosttoocool, however, to be braved without a shawl or wrap of some kind after being cooped up for an hour in that roasting saloon. I cannot think why it should have been so warm this evening; to my mind it was hotter even than when we were crossing the line on the outward voyage.”Blanche and Lance, who were standing near enough to overhear these remarks, were also of opinion that it had been quite uncomfortably warm below, and the two gentlemen, who by this time had arrived at that stage of intimacy with the ladies which seemed to justify them in their own eyes for assuming an occasional dictatorial air toward their fair companions, forthwith insisted on returning below to seek for shawls or wraps of some kind.“Phew! it is like walking into a Turkish bath to come in here,” exclaimed Rex, as he passed through the saloon doors; “and what a peculiar smell!”“Yes,” assented Lance. “Smells like oil or grease of some kind. I expect the steward has spilled some lamp-oil down in the lazarette, and the heat is causing the odour to rise. I hope it will pass off before we turn-in to-night, for it is decidedly objectionable.”“Do you know, Miss Lascelles,” said Lance, as he settled himself comfortably in a chair by that young lady’s side, after carefully enveloping her in a soft fleecy wrap, “I have an idea in connection with that touching story you told me the other night respecting your uncle’s loss of his wife and infant son.”“Have you, indeed?” said Blanche. “And pray, what is it, Mr Evelin?”“Simply this,” replied Lance. “I have an impression—almost a conviction—that your cousin is living, and that I can put my hand upon him when required.”“Oh, Mr Evelin! what is this you say?” exclaimed Blanche eagerly. “Have you, indeed, met with anyone in the course of your wanderings, whose history is such that you believe him to be my dear little long-lost cousin, Dick? I do not think you would speak heedlessly or without due consideration upon such a subject; and if your supposition should be correct, and you can furnish a clue to the discovery of my missing relatives, you will give new life to my uncle, and lay us all under such an obligation as we shall never be able to repay.”“Do not place too much confidence in the idea that it would be quite impossible to repay even such an obligation as the one of which you speak,” said Lance in a low and meaning tone which somehow caused Blanche’s cheek to flush and her heart to flutter a little. “You are right in supposing,” he continued, “that I would not make such an assertion without due consideration. I have thought much upon the story you confided to me; and, comparing it with another which I have also heard, I am of opinion that I have discovered a clue which is worth following up, if only for the satisfaction of ascertaining whether it be a true or a false one. If true, your poor aunt is without doubt long since dead; but your cousin is still alive, and—there he stands!” pointing to Bob, who was in the waist leaning musingly over the lee rail.“Where?” asked Blanche, looking quite bewildered.“There,” replied Evelin, again pointing to Bob. “If my supposition is correct, that lad Bob is your cousin, Miss Lascelles.”“Impossible!” exclaimed Blanche. “Oh, Mr Evelin, tell me:—What has led you to think so?”“I will,” answered Lance. “But I hope the idea is not very distressing to you. It is true that the lad’s present position is—well, not perhaps exactly worthy of the cousin of—”“Oh no; do not say that, Mr Evelin, I beg,” interrupted Blanche. “I was not thinking of that in the least. If Bob indeed prove to be my cousin, I shall certainly not be ashamed of him—quite the contrary; but you took me so completely by surprise. I have ever pictured my lost cousin as a chubby little flaxen-haired baby boy, from always having heard him so spoken of, I suppose; and I had forgotten for the moment that, if alive, he must necessarily have grown into a young man. But let me hear why you have come to think that Robert may be my cousin; I am all curiosity and impatience—woman-like, you see—in the presence of a mystery.”“Well,” said Lance, “you doubtless remember that on one occasion I remarked upon the striking resemblance he bears to you; and, I might have added, the still more striking resemblance between him and your uncle, Sir Richard. My somewhat bungling remark, as I at the time considered it, led to your relating to me first the history of your friend Bob, and then that of your uncle’s loss. As I listened to you, the idea dawned upon me that Bob and your lost cousin might possibly be one and the same individual I got the lad to tell me his story, which was naturally somewhat more full and circumstantial than your own sketch; and comparing dates and so on, I have been led to the conclusion that he may indeed prove to be Sir Richard’s son. In the first place, his age, which of course can only be approximately guessed at, is about the same as your cousin’s would be, if alive. Next, there is the very extraordinary likeness, almosttoostriking, I think, to be merely accidental; and lastly, the clothes he wore when found, and which are still in existence, I understand, are marked with the initials R.L., which may stand for Richard Lascelles, the name, as I understood you, which your cousin bore.”At this moment Captain Staunton made his appearance at the head of the saloon staircase, and calling to the chief mate, said—“Mr Bowles, pass the word for the carpenter to come aft to the saloonat once, if you please. Let him look smart.”The skipper then disappeared below again; but not before the passengers, whowereall by this time on the poop, had had time to observe that his features wore a somewhat anxious expression.The word was passed; and Chips, who was on the forecastle smoking his pipe, at once came shambling aft. At the head of the companion-way he encountered the steward, who went up to Mr Bowles, said a word or two to him in a low tone of voice, and then returned below again.Mr Bowles nodded; stepped quietly down to the main dock, and put his head inside the door of the deck-house wherein Mr Dashwood was lodged; and in another moment the second mate came out, followed the chief up to the poop, and took charge of the deck; Mr Bowles immediately proceeding below.No one but Lance appeared to take any particular notice of these movements, so quietly were they executed; and if he suspected that anything was wrong he took care not to show it, but went on chatting with Blanche upon the same subject as before. It may be, however, that his thoughts wandered a little from the matter in hand, for once or twice he halted and hesitated somewhat in his speech, and seemed to forget what he was talking about.A quarter of an hour passed away; and then Captain Staunton, followed by the chief mate, came on deck. They walked as far as the break of the poop together, and then Mr Bowles gave the word to “pipe all hands aft!”(“Thereissomething amiss,” thought Lance.)In less than a minute the men were all mustered in the waist of the ship, waiting wonderingly to hear what the skipper had to say, for it was perfectly evident that Captain Staunton was about to address them. When the men were all assembled the captain turned to the passengers on the poop, and said—“Ladies and gentlemen, have the goodness to come a little nearer me, if you please; what I have to say concerns all hands alike—those in the saloon as well as those in the forecastle.”The passengers moved forward as requested, Lance taking Blanche’s hand upon his arm and giving it a little reassuring squeeze as he did so.Captain Staunton then turned himself so that he could be heard by all, and began—“My friends, I have called you round me in order to communicate to you all a piece of very momentous intelligence. It is of a somewhat trying nature; and therefore, before I go further, I must ask you to listen to me patiently, to obey orders implicitly, and above all, to preserve coolness and presence of mind.Withthese, I have not a doubt that we can successfully battle with the difficulty;withoutthem it will be impossible for us to work effectively, and the consequences must necessarily be proportionately grave.”He paused a moment; and then, seeing that every one appeared to be perfectly cool and steady, he added—“I greatly regret to say I have some cause for suspicion thatfire has broken out somewhere below—steady, now! steady, lads; wait and hear all I have to say—I repeat I have a suspicion that fire may have broken out on board; the temperature of the saloon is unaccountably hot, and there is a strange smell below which may or may not be caused by fire. It is necessary that the matter should be looked into at once; and I ask every one here to lend me their best assistance. In case of my surmise proving correctkeep cooland work your hardest, every man of you, and then there is no reason whatever why we should not come easily out of the scrape. Mr Bowles and Mr Dashwood will each take charge of his own watch. Mr Dashwood, get the fire-engine rigged and under weigh. Mr Bowles, rig the force-pump, get the deck-tubs filled, and arrange your watch in a line along the deck with all the buckets you can muster. Gentlemen,” turning to the passengers, “be so good as to keep out of the men’s way, and hold yourselves in readiness to assist in whatever manner may be required. Now lads, go quietly to your posts, and do your duty like Englishmen.”

As the hurricane swooped down upon the ship, Captain Staunton and Mr Bowles sprang with one accord aft to the helm. It was well that they did so; for when the vessel was thrown upon her beam-ends the wheel flew suddenly and violently round, taking unawares the unfortunate man who was stationed at it and hurling him far over the lee quarter into the sea, where he immediately sank, being probably disabled by a blow from the rapidly revolving spokes. The two officers saw in a moment that the poor fellow was irretrievably lost, so without wasting time in useless efforts to save him they devoted themselves forthwith to the task of preserving the ship. The wheel was put hard up, with the object of getting the craft before the wind; and then the two men stood anxiously watching and awaiting the result. Two or three minutes passed, and there still lay the ship prone on her side, with her lee topsail and lower yard-arms dipping in the water, she wouldnotpay off.

“Bowles,” said Captain Staunton, lashing the wheel as he spoke, “make your way forward; muster the carpenter and one or two of the most reliable men you have, and bring them aft with axes to cut away the mizen-mast; wemustget her before it somehow; should it come any stronger she will ‘turn the turtle’ with us. Station your men; but do not cut until I hold up my hand.”

Mr Bowles nodded his head; and then set out upon his difficult journey, climbing up to windward by the grating upon which the helmsman usually stood, and then working his way along the deck by grasping the bulwarks, which on the poop were only about a foot above the deck. On reaching the wake of the mizen-mast he was compelled to pause in order to help Rex Fortescue and Violet out of their dangerous position, a position of course altogether untenable now that the order had been given to cut away the mast. This, with Brook’s assistance, he with some difficulty accomplished, landing them safely alongside Blanche and Bob upon the companion. The slight delay thus incurred threatened to have the most disastrous consequences; for when the chief mate was once more free to proceed upon his errand he became aware that the ship’s inclination had sensibly increased, to such an extent indeed that he momentarily expected to feel her rolling bottom-up. Glancing aft once more, he caught the eye of Captain Staunton, who immediately raised his hand. This the mate took to mean an order to cut away the mast with all possible expedition; and whipping out his keen broad-bladed knife he thrust it into Brook’s hand, and tapping the lanyards of the mizen rigging roared in his ear the one word “Cut.”

Then without pausing another instant he proceeded as rapidly as he could forward, much impeded by the continuous blinding shower of spindrift which swept across the vessel, and compelled to cling with all his strength to whatever he laid hold of in his progress, in order to escape being literally blown away.

Meanwhile Brook, who now showed that he was made of far better stuff than anyone had hitherto suspected, began without a moment’s delay to vigorously attack the rigid and tightly strained lanyards of the weather mizen rigging, being speedily joined by Bob, who turned Blanche over to Rex Fortescue’s care the moment he saw that he could be of use. Steadily and rapidly they hacked and notched away at the hard rope, working literally for their lives, for it was now no longer possible to doubt that theGalateawas slowly but surely capsizing. The upturned side which supported them was becoming every moment more nearly horizontal, the lee yard-arms were steadily burying themselves deeper and deeper in the water, and it became apparent that unless relieved, another minute would see the ship bottom-up. Mr Bowles, meanwhile, was out of sight forward, hidden by the gloom and the cloud of spindrift.

At last one of the lanyards was severed by the keen blade in Brook’s hand. The others attached to the same shroud immediately began to render through the deadeye, throwing an extra strain upon the lanyards of the other shrouds, one of which immediately parted under Bob’s knife; thentwang, twang, twang, one after the other, they rapidly yielded, until, as the last lanyard parted,crashwent the mizen-mast short off by the deck and away to leeward, carrying away the saloon skylight as it went.

A perceptible shock was felt as the mast went over the side, and every one watched anxiously to see what the effect would be. The disappointment was extreme when it was seen that the relief was not sufficient to enable the ship to recover herself; she still lay down upon her side, and though she now no longer threatened momentarily to capsize, she neither righted nor paid off.

The chief mate now reappeared upon the poop, having by this time mustered a gang of men, whom he had left clinging to the main-rigging, thinking it not unlikely the main-mast would also have to go.

By the time he reached Captain Staunton’s side the mind of the latter was made up.

“It is no good, Bowles,” he said; “she will do nothing; we must part with the main-mast also. Cut it away at once, and let us get her upon an even keel again if we can.”

Mr Bowles hurried forward, and as soon as he became visible to the men clustered about the main-rigging he made a sign to them to cut. The axes gleamed in the darkened air, a few rapid strokes were struck upon the lanyards of the rigging, and the main-mast bowed, crashed off at about ten feet from the deck, and was carried by the wind clear of the lee rail into the sea.

Another shock, almost as if the ship had struck something, accompanied the fall of the main-mast, and then, laboriously at first but finally with an almost sudden jerk, theGalateaswung upright, and, paying off at the same time, began to draw through the water, her speed increasing to some seven knots when she got fairly away before the wind, and was relieved of the wreckage towing alongside.

The well was sounded, and to everybody’s intense relief some six inches only of water was found in the hold. The pumps were rigged, manned, and set to work, and the water was so speedily got rid of as to show that it had penetrated only through some portion of the upper works.

The first mad fury of the hurricane was by this time over, but it still blew far too heavily to admit of any other course than running dead before it. The sea, which had hitherto been a level plane of fleecy white foam, now showed symptoms of rising, and the aspect of the sky was still such as to force upon the voyagers the conclusion that they were not yet by any means out of danger. Whatcouldbe done, however,wasdone; and the entire crew were set to work, some to get up preventer back-stays and secure the fore-mast, and others to convert the spare spars into jury-masts.

The passengers, meanwhile, had made their way down into the saloon directly the ship recovered herself, where they found Lance Evelin pale, dazed, and barely conscious, bleeding from a very ugly wound in the temple caused by his having fallen heavily against the brass-bound edge of one of the saloon stairs. Mrs Staunton was doing her best single-handed to staunch the blood and bind up the wound, with little May on her knees beside the patient, sobbing as though her tender child’s heart would break, for Lance had taken greatly to the sweet little creature, and, grave and quiet though he was in general, was always ready to romp with her or tell her the most marvellous tales. Mr Dale had retired to his cabin and shut himself in. The new arrivals very promptly afforded their assistance, and in a short time Lance was laid carefully in his berth, and packed there with flags, shawls, and other yielding materials in such a way as to prevent the increasing motion of the ship from causing him any avoidable discomfort.

Dinner that day was a very comfortless meal. By the time that it was served the sea had risen so much as to render the “fiddles” necessary on the cabin table, and even with their aid it was difficult to prevent the viands from being scattered upon the floor. The ship, running before the wind, and with only the fore-mast to steady her, rolled like a hogshead, and the act of dining was therefore quite an acrobatic performance, demanding so much activity of eye and hand as to completely mar the enjoyment of the good things which, in spite of the weather, graced the board.

The conversation at table turned naturally upon the disaster which had befallen the ship; the passengers being all curious to know how it would affect them.

“I suppose it means another beastly detention,” grumbled Dale. “The ship can’t sail all the way to England with only one mast, can she, captain?”

“Well, scarcely,” replied Captain Staunton. “The trip homemightbe made under jury-masts; but it would be a longer and more tedious voyage than any of us would care for, I fancy, and at all events I have no intention of attempting it. Our nearest port is Otago; but as we are pretty certain to get westerly winds again as soon as this breeze has piped itself out, and as the current would also be against us if we attempted to return to the westward, I shall endeavour to reach Valparaiso, where we may hope to restore the poor old barkie’s clipped wings.”

“Umph! I thought so,” snarled Dale. “And how long shall we be detained at that wretched hole?”

“It will depend on circumstances,” answered Captain Staunton, “but I think you may reckon on being a month there.”

“A month!” ejaculated Dale, too much disgusted to say another word.

“A month!” exclaimed Rex Fortescue, “Jolly! I shall explore the Andes and do a little shooting. I daresay Evelin will join me—or us rather—for I suppose you will go as well, won’t you, Brook?”

“Oh yes, I’ll go, certainly; ’tain’t often as I has a holiday, so I may as well take one when I can get it. But what’s them Handles we’re to explore, Mr Fortescue? Mr Dale ’ll come with us too, I’m sure; he’s fond of sleeping in a tent, ain’t you, sir?”

“Don’tbe such a fool, Brook,” retorted that worthy. “If ever we get to Valparaiso, which I think is very doubtful, I shall go home overland.”

“I am afraid that before you can do that, Mr Dale, you or someone else will have to bridge the Atlantic,” remarked Captain Staunton, as he leisurely sipped his wine. “I am extremely sorry for the untoward event which has interrupted our voyage, but it was one of those occurrences which no skill or foresight could have prevented, so I think the best thing you can do is to make as light of it as possible. Worse things than being dismasted have happened at sea before now, and I, for one, am sincerely thankful that we are still above water instead of beneath it, as seemed more than likely at one time.”

So saying the skipper rose, and with a bow left the saloon for the deck.

The sky still looked wild, but there were occasional momentary breaks in it, through which the lustrous stars of the southern heavens beamed gloriously down for an instant ere they were shut in again by the scurrying clouds; and the sea, which now ran high, afforded a magnificent spectacle as the huge billows raced after the ship, each with its foaming crest a cataract of liquid fire. And as the ship rolled, and the water washed impetuously across her decks, the dark planking gleamed with millions of tiny fairy-like stars, which waxed and waned with every oscillation of the vessel. The fore-mast had by this time been made secure, and, it being too dark to work any longer to advantage, the men were busy re-lashing the spars which had been cast adrift in the process of overhauling and selecting those most suitable for jury-masts. Mr Bowles, who had hurried up from the saloon after swallowing the merest apology for a dinner, had charge of the deck; and Captain Staunton joining him, the pair began to discuss the future with its plans and probabilities.

Two days later saw theGalateamaking her way to the northward and eastward under a very respectable jury barque-rig, which enabled her to show her fore-topmast stay-sail, reefed fore-sail, and double-reefed fore-topsail on the fore-mast; a main topsail with topgallant-sail over it on the spar which did duty for a main-mast; and a reefed mizen set upon the jib-boom, which had been rigged in, passed aft, and set on end, properly stayed, with its heel stepped down through the hole in the poop from which the mizen-mast had erstwhile sprung.

The gale had blown itself out; the sea was rapidly going down; the wind had hauled round from the westward once more; and the ship was slipping along at the rate of some five knots an hour. The minor damages had all been made good, excepting that done to the saloon skylight by the fall of the mizen-mast, and upon this job the carpenter, who was an ambitious man in his own way and not altogether devoid of taste, was taxing his skill to the utmost in an effort to make the new skylight both a stronger and a more handsome piece of work than its predecessor. The barometer was slowly but steadily rising; and everything seemed to point in the direction of fine weather. Lucky was it for our voyagers that such was the case.

The passengers had by this time got over their recent alarm, and were settling back into their old ways. Even the impatient and discontented Dale seemed to have got over to a great extent his annoyance at the delay which the loss of the masts involved; and, catching the contagion of the good spirits which animated the rest of the party, was actually betrayed into an effort or two to make himself agreeable that evening at the dinner-table. So amiable was this generally irritable individual that he positively listened with equanimity to the plans which Fortescue and Evelin—the latter with a broad patch of plaster across his brow—were discussing relative to a properly organised sporting excursion into the Cordilleras—or Andes, as they indifferently termed them, much to the perplexity of Brook—nor did he allow himself to show any signs of annoyance when the last-named individual sought to ruffle his (Dale’s) feathers, as he elegantly termed it, by urging him to join the expedition; on the contrary, to the secret but carefully concealed consternation of Rex and Lance, the prime movers in the matter, Mr Dale seemed more than half disposed to yield to Brook’s jesting entreaties that he would make one of the party. It almost seemed as though this intensely selfish and egotistical individual were at last becoming ashamed of his own behaviour and had resolved upon an attempt to improve it.

Dinner over, the ladies retired to the poop to witness the sunset, Rex and Lance accompanying them; while Dale and Brook remained below, lingering over their wine.

“Oh, how refreshing this cool evening breeze is, after the closeness and heat of the saloon!” exclaimed Violet as, leaning on Rex Fortescue’s arm, she gazed astern where the sun was just sinking out of sight beneath the purple horizon, leaving behind him a cloudless sky which glowed in his track with purest gold and rose tints, merging insensibly into a clear ultramarine, deepening in tone as the eye travelled up to the zenith and thence downward toward the eastern quarter where, almost before the upper rim of the sun’s golden disc had sunk out of sight, a great star beamed out from the velvety background, glowing with that soft mellow effulgence which seems peculiar to southern skies.

“Yes,” responded Rex, “itiscool and decidedly pleasant. Do you not think it is almosttoocool, however, to be braved without a shawl or wrap of some kind after being cooped up for an hour in that roasting saloon. I cannot think why it should have been so warm this evening; to my mind it was hotter even than when we were crossing the line on the outward voyage.”

Blanche and Lance, who were standing near enough to overhear these remarks, were also of opinion that it had been quite uncomfortably warm below, and the two gentlemen, who by this time had arrived at that stage of intimacy with the ladies which seemed to justify them in their own eyes for assuming an occasional dictatorial air toward their fair companions, forthwith insisted on returning below to seek for shawls or wraps of some kind.

“Phew! it is like walking into a Turkish bath to come in here,” exclaimed Rex, as he passed through the saloon doors; “and what a peculiar smell!”

“Yes,” assented Lance. “Smells like oil or grease of some kind. I expect the steward has spilled some lamp-oil down in the lazarette, and the heat is causing the odour to rise. I hope it will pass off before we turn-in to-night, for it is decidedly objectionable.”

“Do you know, Miss Lascelles,” said Lance, as he settled himself comfortably in a chair by that young lady’s side, after carefully enveloping her in a soft fleecy wrap, “I have an idea in connection with that touching story you told me the other night respecting your uncle’s loss of his wife and infant son.”

“Have you, indeed?” said Blanche. “And pray, what is it, Mr Evelin?”

“Simply this,” replied Lance. “I have an impression—almost a conviction—that your cousin is living, and that I can put my hand upon him when required.”

“Oh, Mr Evelin! what is this you say?” exclaimed Blanche eagerly. “Have you, indeed, met with anyone in the course of your wanderings, whose history is such that you believe him to be my dear little long-lost cousin, Dick? I do not think you would speak heedlessly or without due consideration upon such a subject; and if your supposition should be correct, and you can furnish a clue to the discovery of my missing relatives, you will give new life to my uncle, and lay us all under such an obligation as we shall never be able to repay.”

“Do not place too much confidence in the idea that it would be quite impossible to repay even such an obligation as the one of which you speak,” said Lance in a low and meaning tone which somehow caused Blanche’s cheek to flush and her heart to flutter a little. “You are right in supposing,” he continued, “that I would not make such an assertion without due consideration. I have thought much upon the story you confided to me; and, comparing it with another which I have also heard, I am of opinion that I have discovered a clue which is worth following up, if only for the satisfaction of ascertaining whether it be a true or a false one. If true, your poor aunt is without doubt long since dead; but your cousin is still alive, and—there he stands!” pointing to Bob, who was in the waist leaning musingly over the lee rail.

“Where?” asked Blanche, looking quite bewildered.

“There,” replied Evelin, again pointing to Bob. “If my supposition is correct, that lad Bob is your cousin, Miss Lascelles.”

“Impossible!” exclaimed Blanche. “Oh, Mr Evelin, tell me:—What has led you to think so?”

“I will,” answered Lance. “But I hope the idea is not very distressing to you. It is true that the lad’s present position is—well, not perhaps exactly worthy of the cousin of—”

“Oh no; do not say that, Mr Evelin, I beg,” interrupted Blanche. “I was not thinking of that in the least. If Bob indeed prove to be my cousin, I shall certainly not be ashamed of him—quite the contrary; but you took me so completely by surprise. I have ever pictured my lost cousin as a chubby little flaxen-haired baby boy, from always having heard him so spoken of, I suppose; and I had forgotten for the moment that, if alive, he must necessarily have grown into a young man. But let me hear why you have come to think that Robert may be my cousin; I am all curiosity and impatience—woman-like, you see—in the presence of a mystery.”

“Well,” said Lance, “you doubtless remember that on one occasion I remarked upon the striking resemblance he bears to you; and, I might have added, the still more striking resemblance between him and your uncle, Sir Richard. My somewhat bungling remark, as I at the time considered it, led to your relating to me first the history of your friend Bob, and then that of your uncle’s loss. As I listened to you, the idea dawned upon me that Bob and your lost cousin might possibly be one and the same individual I got the lad to tell me his story, which was naturally somewhat more full and circumstantial than your own sketch; and comparing dates and so on, I have been led to the conclusion that he may indeed prove to be Sir Richard’s son. In the first place, his age, which of course can only be approximately guessed at, is about the same as your cousin’s would be, if alive. Next, there is the very extraordinary likeness, almosttoostriking, I think, to be merely accidental; and lastly, the clothes he wore when found, and which are still in existence, I understand, are marked with the initials R.L., which may stand for Richard Lascelles, the name, as I understood you, which your cousin bore.”

At this moment Captain Staunton made his appearance at the head of the saloon staircase, and calling to the chief mate, said—

“Mr Bowles, pass the word for the carpenter to come aft to the saloonat once, if you please. Let him look smart.”

The skipper then disappeared below again; but not before the passengers, whowereall by this time on the poop, had had time to observe that his features wore a somewhat anxious expression.

The word was passed; and Chips, who was on the forecastle smoking his pipe, at once came shambling aft. At the head of the companion-way he encountered the steward, who went up to Mr Bowles, said a word or two to him in a low tone of voice, and then returned below again.

Mr Bowles nodded; stepped quietly down to the main dock, and put his head inside the door of the deck-house wherein Mr Dashwood was lodged; and in another moment the second mate came out, followed the chief up to the poop, and took charge of the deck; Mr Bowles immediately proceeding below.

No one but Lance appeared to take any particular notice of these movements, so quietly were they executed; and if he suspected that anything was wrong he took care not to show it, but went on chatting with Blanche upon the same subject as before. It may be, however, that his thoughts wandered a little from the matter in hand, for once or twice he halted and hesitated somewhat in his speech, and seemed to forget what he was talking about.

A quarter of an hour passed away; and then Captain Staunton, followed by the chief mate, came on deck. They walked as far as the break of the poop together, and then Mr Bowles gave the word to “pipe all hands aft!”

(“Thereissomething amiss,” thought Lance.)

In less than a minute the men were all mustered in the waist of the ship, waiting wonderingly to hear what the skipper had to say, for it was perfectly evident that Captain Staunton was about to address them. When the men were all assembled the captain turned to the passengers on the poop, and said—

“Ladies and gentlemen, have the goodness to come a little nearer me, if you please; what I have to say concerns all hands alike—those in the saloon as well as those in the forecastle.”

The passengers moved forward as requested, Lance taking Blanche’s hand upon his arm and giving it a little reassuring squeeze as he did so.

Captain Staunton then turned himself so that he could be heard by all, and began—

“My friends, I have called you round me in order to communicate to you all a piece of very momentous intelligence. It is of a somewhat trying nature; and therefore, before I go further, I must ask you to listen to me patiently, to obey orders implicitly, and above all, to preserve coolness and presence of mind.Withthese, I have not a doubt that we can successfully battle with the difficulty;withoutthem it will be impossible for us to work effectively, and the consequences must necessarily be proportionately grave.”

He paused a moment; and then, seeing that every one appeared to be perfectly cool and steady, he added—

“I greatly regret to say I have some cause for suspicion thatfire has broken out somewhere below—steady, now! steady, lads; wait and hear all I have to say—I repeat I have a suspicion that fire may have broken out on board; the temperature of the saloon is unaccountably hot, and there is a strange smell below which may or may not be caused by fire. It is necessary that the matter should be looked into at once; and I ask every one here to lend me their best assistance. In case of my surmise proving correctkeep cooland work your hardest, every man of you, and then there is no reason whatever why we should not come easily out of the scrape. Mr Bowles and Mr Dashwood will each take charge of his own watch. Mr Dashwood, get the fire-engine rigged and under weigh. Mr Bowles, rig the force-pump, get the deck-tubs filled, and arrange your watch in a line along the deck with all the buckets you can muster. Gentlemen,” turning to the passengers, “be so good as to keep out of the men’s way, and hold yourselves in readiness to assist in whatever manner may be required. Now lads, go quietly to your posts, and do your duty like Englishmen.”

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