I remained until noon anxiously watching the sky, hoping that the outline of the sun might swim out, if for a few moments only, and give me a chance to fix it.
I was particularly wishful to get sights, because, if the wind abated, we might be able to wear the ship and stand for the Bermudas, which was the land the nearest to us that I knew of. But I could not be certain as to the course to be steered unless I knew my latitude and longitude. TheGrosvenor, now hove to in this furious gale, was drifting dead to leeward at from three to four knots an hour. Consequently, if the weather remained thick and this monstrous sea lasted, I should be out of my reckoning altogether next day. This was the more to be deplored, as every mile was of serious consequence to persons in our position, as it would represent so many hours more of hard work and bitter expectation.
The boatswain had by this time taken the wheel, to let Cornish go below to change his clothes, and, as no conversation could be carried on in that unsheltered part of the deck, I reserved what I had to say to him for another opportunity, and returned to the cuddy.
I could not bear to think of the poor girl being alone with her dead father in the darksome cabin, where the grief of deathwould be augmented by the dismaying sounds of the groaning timbers and the furious wash of the water against the ship's side.
I went to her and begged her to come to me to my own cabin, which, being to windward and having two bull's-eyes in the deck, was lighter and more cheerful than hers.
"Your staying here," I said, "cannot recall your poor father to life, and I know, if he were alive, he would wish me to take you away. He will rest quietly here, Miss Robertson, and we will close the cabin door and leave him for a while."
I drew her gently from the cabin, and when I had got her into the cuddy, I closed the door upon the dead old man, and led her by the hand to my own cabin.
"I intend," I said, "that you shall occupy this berth, and I will remove into the cabin next to this."
She answered in broken tones that she could not bear the thought of being separated from her father.
"But you will not be separated from him," I answered, "even though you should never see him more with your eyes. There is only one separation, and that is when the heart turns and the memory forgets. He will always be with you in your thoughts, a dear friend, a dear companion, and father, as in life; not absent because he is dead, since I think that death makes those whom we love doubly our own, for they become spirits to watch over us, to dwell near us, let us journey where we please, and their affection is not to be chilled by any worldly selfishness. Try to think thus of the dead. It is not a parting that should pain us. Your father has set out on his journey before you; death is but a short leave-taking, and only a man who is doomedto live for ever could look upon death as an eternal separation."
She wept quietly, and once or twice looked at me as though she would smile through her tears, to let me know that she was grateful for my poor attempts to console her; but she could not smile. Rough and idle as my words were, yet, in the fulness of my sympathy, and my knowledge of her trials, and my sense of the dangers which, even as I spoke, were raging round us, my voice faltered, and I turned to hide my face.
It happened then that my eye lighted upon the little Bible I had carried with me in all my voyages ever since I had gone to sea, and I felt that now, with the old man lying dead, and his poor child's grief, and our own hard and miserable position, was the fitting time to invoke God's mercy, and to pray to Him to watch over us.
I spoke to that effect to Miss Robertson, and said that if she consented I would call in Cornish and the steward and ask them to join us; that the boatswain was at the wheel and could not leave his post, but we might believe that the Almighty would accept the brave man's faithful discharge of his duty as a prayer, and would not overlook him, if our prayers were accepted, because he could not kneel in company with us.
"Let him know that we are praying," she exclaimed, eagerly, "and he will pray too."
I saw that my suggestion had aroused her, and at once left the cabin and went on deck, and going close to the boatswain Isaid—
"Poor Mr. Robertson is dead, and his daughter is in great grief."
"Ah, poor lady!" he replied. "I hopeGod 'll spare her. She's a brave young woman, and seen a sight more trouble within the last fortnight than so pretty a gell desarves."
"Bo'sun, I am going to call in Cornish and the steward, and read prayers and ask God for His protection. I should have liked you, brave old messmate, to join; but, as you can't leave the deck, pray with us in your heart, will you?"
"Ay, ay, that I will, heartily; an' I hope for the lady's sake that God Almighty 'll hear us, for I'd sooner die myself than she should, poor gell, for I'm older, and it's my turn afore hers by rights."
I clapped him on the back and went below, where I called to the steward and Cornish, both of whom came aft on hearing my voice.
During my absence, Miss Robertson had taken the Bible and laid it open on thetable; and when the two men came in Isaid—
"My lads, we are in the hands of God, who is our Father; and I will ask you to join this lady and me in thanking Him for the mercy and protection He has already vouchsafed us, and to pray to Him to lead us out of present peril and bring us safely to the home we love."
The steward said "Yes, sir," and looked about him for a place to sit or kneel, but Cornish hung his head and glanced at the door shamefacedly.
"You need not stop unless you wish, Cornish," said I. "But why should you not join us? The way you have worked, the honest manner in which you have behaved, amply atone for the past. From no man can more than hearty repentance be expected, and we all stand in need of each other's prayers. Join us, mate."
"Won't it be makin' a kind of game o' religion for the likes o' me to pray?" he answered. "I was for murderin' you an' the lady and all hands as are left on board this wessel—what 'ud be the use o'myprayers?"
Miss Robertson went over to him and took his hand.
"God," said she, "has told us that there is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine just persons who need no repentance. But who is good among us, Cornish? Be sure that as you repent so are you forgiven. My poor father lies dead in his cabin, and I wish you to pray with me for him, and to pray with us for our own poor lives. Mr. Royle," she said, "Cornish will stay."
And with an expression on her face of infinite sweetness and pathos, she drew him to one of the cushioned lockers and seated herself by his side.
I saw that her charming wonderful grace, her cordial tender voice, and her condescension, which a man of his condition would feel, had deeply moved him.
The steward seated himself on the other side of her, and I began to read from the open book before me, beginning the chapter which she had chosen for us during my absence on deck. This chapter was the eleventh of St. John, wherein is related the story of that sickness "which was not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby."
I read only to the thirty-sixth verse, for what followed that did not closely apply to our position; but there were passages preceding it which stirred me to the centre of my heart, knowing how they went home to the mourner, more especially those pregnant lines—"Martha saith unto Him, I knowthat he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day. Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live," which made me feel that the words I had formerly addressed to her were not wholly idle.
I then turned to St. Matthew, and read from the eighth chapter those few verses wherein it is told that Christ entered a ship with His disciples, and that there arose a great storm. Only men in a tempest at sea, their lives in jeopardy, and worn out with anxiety and the fear of death, know how great is the comfort to be got out of this brief story of our Lord's power over the elements, and His love of those whom He died to save; and, taking this as a kind of text, I knelt down, the others imitating me, and prayed that He who rebuked the sea and the wind before His doubting disciples,would be with us who believed in Him in our present danger.
Many things I said (feeling that He whom I addressed was our Father, and that He alone could save us) which have gone from my mind, and tears stood in my eyes as I prayed; but I was not ashamed to let the others see them, even if they had not been as greatly affected as I, which was not the case. Nor would I conclude my prayer without entreating God to comfort the heart of the mourner, and to receive in heaven the soul of him for whom she was weeping.
I then shook Cornish and the steward heartily by the hand, and I am sure, by the expression in Cornish's face, that he was glad he had stayed, and that his kneeling in prayer had done him good.
"Now," said I, "you had best get your dinner, and relieve the boatswain; and you, steward, obtain what food you can, andbring it to us here, and then you and the bo'sun can dine together."
The two men left the cabin, and I went and seated myself beside Miss Robertson, and said all that I could to comfort her.
She was very grateful to me for my prayers for herself and her father, and already, as though she had drawn support from our little service, spoke with some degree of calmness of his death. It would have made her happy, she said, could she have kissed him before he died, and have been awake to attend to any last want.
I told her that I believed he had died in his sleep, without a struggle; for, so recent as his death was, less placidity would have appeared in his face had he died awake or conscious. I added that secretly I had never believed he would live to reach Valparaiso, had the ship continued her voyage. He was too old a man to sufferand survive the physical and mental trials he had passed through; and sad though his death was under the circumstances which surrounded it, yet she must think that it had only been hastened a little; for he was already an old man, and his end might have been near, even had all prospered and he had reached England in his own ship.
By degrees I drew her mind away from the subject by leading her thoughts to our own critical position. At another time I should have softened my account of our danger: but I thought it best to speak plainly, as the sense of the insecurity of our lives would in some measure distract her thoughts from her father's death.
She asked me if the storm was not abating.
"It is not increasing in violence," I answered, "which is a good sign. Butthere is one danger to be feared which must very shortly take me on deck. The wind may suddenly lull and blow again hard from another quarter. This would be the worst thing that could happen to us, for we should then have what is called a cross sea, and the ship is so deeply loaded that we might have great difficulty in keeping her afloat."
"May I go on deck with you?"
"You would not be able to stand. Feel this!" I exclaimed, as the ship's stern rose to a sickening height and then came down, down, down, with the water roaring about her as high as our ears.
"Let me go with you!" she pleaded.
"Very well," I replied, meaning to keep her under the companion, half-way up the ladder.
I took a big top-coat belonging to the captain and buttoned her up in it, and alsotied his fur cap over her head, so that she would be well protected from the wind, whilst the coat would keep her dress close against her.
I then slipped on my oilskins, and taking a strong grip of her hand to steady her, led her up the companion ladder.
"Do not come any farther," said I.
"Wherever you go I will go," she answered, grasping my arm.
Admiring her courage and stirred by her words, which were as dear to me as a kiss from her lips would have been, I led her right on to the deck over to windward, and made her sit on a small coil of rope just under the rail.
The sea was no heavier than it had been since the early morning, and yet my short absence below had transformed it into a sublime and stupendous novelty.
You will remember that not only was theGrosvenora small ship, but that she lay deep, with a free board lower by a foot and a half than she ought to have shown.
The height from the poop rail to the water was not above twelve feet; and it is therefore no exaggeration to say that the sea, running from fifteen to twenty feet high, stood like walls on either side of her.
To appreciate the effect of such a sea upon a ship like theGrosvenor, you must have crossed the Atlantic in a hurricane, not in an immense and powerful ocean steamer, but in a yacht.
But even this experience would not enable you to realise our danger; for the yacht would not be overloaded with cargo, she would probably be strong, supple, and light; whereas theGrosvenorwas choked to the height of the hold with seven hundred and fifty tons of dead weight, andwas a Nova Scotia soft wood ship, which means that she might start a butt at any moment and go to pieces in one of her frightful swoops downwards.
Having lodged Miss Robertson in a secure and sheltered place, I crawled along the poop on to the main-deck and sounded the well again. I found a trifle over six inches of water in her, which satisfied me that she was still perfectly tight, and that the extra leakage was owing to the drainings from the decks.
I regained the poop and communicated the good news to the boatswain, who nodded; but I noticed that there was more anxiety in his face than I liked to see, and that he watched the ship very closely each time she pitched with extra heaviness.
Miss Robertson was looking up at the masts with alarmed eyes; but I pointed tothem and smiled, and shook my head to let her know that their wrecked appearance need not frighten her. I then took the telescope, and, making it fast over my back, clambered into the mizzen-top, she watching my ascent with her hands tightly clasped.
The ensign still roared some half-dozen feet below the gaff-end; it was a brave bit of bunting to hold on as it did. I planted myself firmly against the rigging, and carefully swept the weather horizon, and finding nothing there, pointed the glass to leeward; but all that part of the sea was likewise a waste of foaming waves, with never a sign of a ship in all the raging seas.
I was greatly disappointed, for though no ship could have helped us in such a sea, yet the sight of one hove to near us—and no ship afloat, sailer or steamer, but musthave hove to in that gale—would have comforted us greatly, as a promise of help at hand, and rescue to come when the wind should have gone down.
All that day the wind continued to blow with frightful force, and the sky to wear its menacing aspect. On looking, however, at the barometer at four o'clock in the afternoon, I observed a distinct rise in the mercury; but I did not dare to feel elated by this promise of an improvement; for, as I have before said, the only thing the mercury foretells is a change of weather, but what kind of change you shall never be sure of until it comes.
What I most dreaded was the veering of the gale to an opposite quarter, whereby, a new sea being set running right athwart,or in the eye of the already raging sea, our decks would be helplessly swept and the ship grow unmanageable.
A little after eight the wind sensibly decreased, and, to my great delight, the sky cleared in the direction whence the gale was blowing, so that there was a prospect of the sea subsiding before the wind shifted, that is, if it shifted at all.
When Cornish, who had been below resting after a long spell, came on deck and saw the stars shining, and that the gale was moderating, he stared upwards like one spell-bound, and then, running up to me, seized my hand and wrung it in silence.
I heartily returned this mute congratulation, and we both went over and shook hands with the boatswain; and those who can appreciate the dangers of the frightful storm that had been roaring about us all day, and feel with us in the sentiments ofdespair and helplessness which the peril we stood in awoke in us, will understand the significance of our passionate silence as we held each other's hand and looked upon the bright stars, which shone like the blessing of God upon our forlorn state.
I was eager to show Mary Robertson those glorious harbingers, and ran below to bring her on deck.
I found her again in the cabin in which her father lay, bending over his body in prayer. I waited until she turned her head, and then exclaimed that the wind was falling, and that all the sky in the north-west was bright with stars, and begged her to follow me and see them.
She came immediately, and, after looking around her, cried out in a rapturousvoice—
"Oh, Mr. Royle! God has heard our prayers!" and, in the wildness of her emotions, burst into a flood of tears.
I held her hand as Ianswered—
"It was your grief that moved me to pray to Him, and I consider you our guardian angel on board this ship, and that God who loves you will spare our lives for your sake."
"No, no; do not say so; I am not worthier than you—not worthier than the brave boatswain and Cornish, whose repentance would do honour to the noblest heart. Oh, if my poor father had but been spared to me!"
She turned her pale face and soft and swimming eyes up to the stars and gazed at them intently, as though she witnessed a vision there.
But though the wind had abated, it still blew a gale, and the sea boiled and tumbled about us and over our decks in a manner that would have been terrifying had we not seen it in a greater state of fury.
I sent the steward forward to see if he could get the galley fire to burn, so as to boil us some water for coffee, for though the ship was in a warm latitude, yet the wind, owing to its strength, was at times piercingly cold, and we all longed for a hot drink—a cup of hot coffee or cocoa being infinitely more invigorating, grateful, and warming than any kind of spirits drunk cold.
All that the steward did, however, was to get wet through; and this he managed so effectually that he came crawling aft, looking precisely as if he had been fished out of the water with grappling-hooks.
I lighted a bull's-eye lamp and went to the pumps and sounded the well.
On hauling up the rod I found to my consternation that there were nine inches of water in the ship.
I was so much startled by this discovery that I stood for some moments motionless;then, bethinking me that one of the plugged auger holes might be leaking, I slipped forward without saying a word to the others, and, getting a large mallet from the tool-chest, I entered the forecastle, so as to get into the fore peak.
I had not been in the forecastle since the men had left the ship, and I cannot describe the effect produced upon me by this dark deserted abode, with its row of idly swinging hammocks glimmering in the light shed by the bull's-eye lamp; the black chests of the seamen which they had left behind them; here and there a suit of dark oilskins suspended by a nail and looking like a hanged man; the hollow space resonant with the booming thunder of the seas and the mighty wash of water swirling over the top-gallant deck.
The whole scene took a peculiarly ghastly significance from the knowledge that of allthe men who had occupied those hammocks and bunks, one only survived; for four of them we ourselves had killed, and I could not suppose that the long-boat had lived ten minutes after the gale had broken upon her.
I made my way over the cable-ranges, stooping my head to clear the hammocks, and striking my shins against the sea-chests, and swung myself into the hold.
Here I found myself against the water casks, close against the cargo, and just beyond was the bulk-head behind which the boatswain had hidden while Stevens bored the holes.
Carefully throwing the light over the walls, I presently perceived the plugs or ends of the broom-stick protruding; and going close to them I found they were perfectly tight, that no sign of moisture was visible around them.
It may seem strange that this discovery vexed and alarmed me.
And yet this was the case.
It would have made me perfectly easy in my mind to have seen the water gushing in through one of these holes, because not only would a few blows of the mallet have set it to rights, but it would have acquainted me with the cause of the small increase of water in the hold.
Now that cause must be sought elsewhere.
Was it possible that the apprehensions I had felt each time the ship had taken one of her tremendous headers were to be realised?—that she had strained a butt or started a bolt in some ungetatable place?
Here where I stood, deep in the ship, below the water-line, it was frightful to hear her straining, it was frightful to feel her motion.
The whole place resounded with groans and cries, as if the hold had been filled with wounded men.
What bolts, though forged by a Cyclops, could resist that horrible grinding?—could hold together the immense weight which the sea threw up as a child a ball, leaving parts of it poised in air, out of water, unsustained save by the structure that contained it, then letting the whole hull fall with a hollow, horrible crash into a chasm between the waves, beating it first here, then there, with blows the force of which was to be calculated in hundreds of tons?
I scrambled up through the fore scuttle, and perceiving Cornish smoking a pipe under the break of the poop, I desired he would go and relieve the boatswain at the wheel for a short while and send him to me, as I had something particular to say to him.
I waited until the boatswain came, ashere was the best place I could choose to conduct a conversation.
Beyond all question the wind was falling, and though the ship still rolled terribly, she was not taking in nearly so much water over her sides.
I re-trimmed the lamp in my hand, and in a few minutes the boatswain joined me.
I said to him atonce—
"I have just made nine inches of water in the hold."
"When was that?" he inquired.
"Ten minutes ago."
"When you sounded the well before what did you find?"
"Between five and six inches."
"I'll tell you what it is, sir," said he. "You'll hexcuse me sayin' of it, but it's no easy job to get at the true depth of water in a ship's bottom when she's tumblin' about like this here."
"I think I got correct soundings."
"Suppose," he continued, "you drop the rod when she's on her beam ends. Where's the water? Why, the water lies all on one side, and the rod 'll come up pretty near dry."
"I waited until the ship was level."
"Ah,youdid, because you knows your work. But it's astonishin' what few persons there are as reallydoesknow how to sound the pumps. You'll hexcuse me, sir, but I should like to drop the rod myself."
"Certainly," I replied, "and I hope you'll make it less than I."
In order to render my description clear to readers not acquainted with such details, I may state that in most large ships there is a pipe that leads from the upper deck, alongside the pumps, down to the bottom or within a few inches of the bottom of the vessel. The water in the hold necessarilyrises to the height of its own level in this pipe; and in order to gauge the depth of water, a dry rod of iron, usually graduated in feet and inches, is attached to the end of a line and dropped down the tube, and when drawn up the depth of water is ascertained by the height of the water on the rod.
It is not too much to say that no method for determining this essential point in a ship's safety could well be more susceptible of inaccuracy than this.
The immersed rod, on being withdrawn from the tube, wets the sides of the tube; hence, though the rod be dry when it is dropped a second time, it is wetted in its passage down the tube; and as the accuracy of its indication is dependent on its exhibiting the mark of the level of water, it is manifest that if it becomes wetted before reaching the water, the result it shows on being withdrawn must be erroneous.
Secondly, as the boatswain remarked to me, if the well be sounded at any moment when the vessel is inclined at any angle on one side or the other, the water must necessarily roll to the side to which the vessel inclines, by which the height of the water in the well is depressed, so that the rod will not report the true depth.
Hence, to use the sounding-rod properly, one must not only possess good sense, but exercise very great judgment.
I held the lamp close to the sounding-pipe, and the boatswain carefully dried the rod on his coat preparatory to dropping it.
He then let it fall some distance down the tube, keeping it, however, well above the bottom, until the ship, midway in a roll, stood for a moment on a level keel.
He instantly dropped the rod, and hauling it up quickly, remarked that we had got the true soundings this time.
He held the rod to the light, and I found it a fraction over nine inches.
"That's what it is, anyways," said he, putting down the rod.
"An increase of three inches since the afternoon."
"Well, there's nothen to alarm us in that, is there, Mr. Royle?" he exclaimed. "Perhaps its one o' my plugs as wants hammerin'."
"No, they're as tight as a new kettle," I answered. "I have just come from examining them."
"Well, all we've got to do is to pump the ship out; and, if we can, make the pumps suck all right. That 'll show us if anything's wrong."
This was just the proposition I was about to make; so I went into the cuddy and sang out for the steward, but he was so long answering that I lost my temper andran into the pantry, where I found him shamming to be asleep.
I started him on to his legs and had him on the main-deck in less time than he could have asked what the matter was.
"Look here!" I cried, "if you don't turn to and help us all to save our lives, I'll just send you adrift in that quarter-boat with the planks out of her bottom! What do you mean by pretending to be asleep when I sing out to you?"
And after abusing him for some time to let him know that I would have no skulking, and that if his life were worth having he must save it himself, for we were not going to do his work and our own as well, I bid him lay hold of one of the pump-handles, and we all three of us set to work to pump the ship.
If this were not the heaviest job we had yet performed, it was the most tiring; butwe plied our arms steadily and perseveringly, taking every now and then a spell of rest, and shifting our posts so as to vary our postures; and after pumping I scarcely know how long, the pumps sucked, whereat the boatswain and I cheered heartily.
"Now, sir," said the boatswain, as we entered the cuddy to refresh ourselves with a drain of brandy and water after our heavy exertions, "we know that the ship's dry, leastways, starting from the ship's bottom; if the well's sounded agin at half-past ten—its now half-past nine—that 'll be time enough to find out if anything's gone wrong."
"How about the watches? We're all adrift again. Here's Cornish at the wheel, and its your watch on deck."
As I said this, Miss Robertson came out of the cabin where her father lay—do what I might I could not induce her to keepaway from the old man's body—and approaching us slowly asked why we had been pumping.
"Why, ma'm," replied the boatswain, "it's always usual to pump the water out o' wessels. On dry ships it's done sometimes in the mornin' watch, and t'others they pumps in the first dog watch. All accordin'. Some wessels as they calls colliers require pumpin' all day long; and theHeagle, which was the fust wessel as I went to sea in, warn't the only Geordie as required pumpin' not only all day long but all night long as well. Every wessel has her own custom, but it's a werry dry ship indeed as don't want pumpin' wunce a day."
"I was afraid," she said, "when I heard the clanking of the pumps that water was coming into the ship."
She looked at me earnestly, as though she believed that this was the case andthat I would not frighten her by telling her so. I had learnt to interpret the language of her eyes by this time, and answered her doubts as though she had expressed them.
"I should tell you at once if there was any danger threatened in that way," I said. "There was more water in the ship than I cared to find in her, and so the three of us have been pumping her out."
"About them watches, Mr. Royle?" exclaimed the boatswain.
"Well, begin afresh, if you like," I replied. "I'll take the wheel for two hours, and then you can relieve me."
"Why will you not let me take my turn at the wheel?" said Miss Robertson.
The boatswain laughed.
"I have proved to you that I know how to steer."
"Well, that's right enough," said the boatswain.
"All three of you can lie down, then."
I smiled and shook my head.
Said the boatswain: "If your arms wur as strong as your sperrit Miss, there'd be no reason why you shouldn't go turn and turn about with us."
"But I can hold the wheel."
"It 'ud fling you overboard. Listen to its kickin'. You might as well try to prewent one o' Barclay Perkins' dray hosses from bustin' into a gallop by catchin' hold o' it's tail. It 'ud be a poor look-out for us to lose you, I can tell yer. What," continued the boatswain, energetically, "we want to know is that you're sleepin', and forgettin' all this here excitement in pleasing dreams. To see a lady like you knocked about by a gale o' wind is just one o' them things I have no fancy for. Mr. Royle, if I had a young and beautiful darter, and a Dook or a Barryonet worth a thousand ayear, if that ain't sayin' too much, wos to propose marriage to her, an' ax her to come and be married to him in some fur-off place, wich 'ud oblige her to cross the water, blowed if I'd consent. No flesh an' blood o' mine as I had any kind o' feeling for should set foot on board ship without fust having a row with me. Make no mistake. I'm talkin' o' females, Miss. I say the sea ain't a fit place for women and gells. It does middlin' well for the likes of me and Mr. Royle here, as aren't afraid o' carryin' full-rigged ships and other agreeable dewices in gunpowder and Hindian ink on our harms, and is seasoned, as the sayin' is, to the wexations o' the mariner's life. But when it comes to young ladies crossin' the ocean, an' I don't care wot they goes as—as passengers or skippers' wives, or stewardishes, or female hemigrants—then I say it ain't proper, and if I'd ha' been a lawyer I'd ha' made it aginthe law, and contrived such a Act of Paleyment as 'ud make the gent as took his wife, darter, haunt, cousin, grandmother, female nephey, or any relations in petticoats to sea along with him, wish hisself hanged afore he paid her passage money."
I was so much impressed by this vehement piece of rhetoric, delivered with many convulsions of the face, and a great deal of hand-sawing, that I could not forbear mixing him some more brandy and water, which he drank at a draught, having first wished Miss Robertson and myself long life and plenty of happiness.
His declamation had quite silenced her, though I saw by her eyes that she would renew her entreaties the moment she had me alone.
"Then you'll go on deck, sir, and relieve Cornish, and I'll turn in?" observed the boatswain.
"Yes."
"Right," said he, and was going.
I added:
"We must sound the well again at half-past ten."
"Aye! aye!"
"I shan't be able to leave the wheel, and I would rather you should sound than Cornish. I'll send the steward to rouse you."
"Very well," said he. And after waiting to hear if I had anything more to say, he entered his cabin, and in all probability was sound asleep two minutes after.
Miss Robertson stood near the table, with her hands folded and her eyes bent down.
I was about to ask her to withdraw to her cabin and get some sleep.
"Mr. Royle, you are dreadfully tired and worn out, and yet you are going on deck to remain at the wheel for two hours."
"That is nothing."
"Why will you not let me take your place?"
"Because——"
"Let the steward keep near that ladder there, so that I can call to him if I want you."
"Do you think I could rest with the knowledge you were alone on deck?"
"You refuse because you believe I am not to be trusted," she said gently, looking down again.
"If your life were not dependent on the ship's safety, I should not think of her safety, but of yours. I refuse for your own sake, not for mine—no, I will not say that. Forbothour sakes I refuse. I have one dear hope—well, I will call it a great ambition, which I need not be ashamed to own: it is, that I may be the means of placing you on shore in England. Thishope has given me half the courage with which I have fought on through danger after danger since I first brought you from the wreck. If anything should happen to you now, I feel that all the courage and strength of heart which have sustained me would go. Is that saying too much? I do not wish to exaggerate," I exclaimed, feeling the blood in my cheeks, and lamenting, without being able to control, the impulse that had forced this speech from me, and scarcely knowing whether to applaud or detest myself for my candour.
She looked up at me with her frank, beautiful eyes, but on a sudden averted them from my face to the door of the cabin where her dead father lay. A look of indescribable anguish came over her, and she drew a deep, long, sobbing breath.
Without another word, I took her hand and led her to the cabin, and I knew thereason why she did not turn and speak to me was that I might not see she was weeping.
But it was a time for action, and I dared not let the deep love that had come to me for her divert my thoughts from my present extremity.
I summoned the steward, who tumbled out of his cabin smartly enough, and ordered him to bring his mattress and lay it alongside the companion ladder so as to be within hail.
This done, I gained the poop and sent Cornish below.
As I stood at the wheel I considered how I should act when the storm had passed. And I was justified in so speculating, because now the sky was clear right away round, and the stars large and bright, though a strong gale was still blowing and keeping the sea very heavy.
Indeed, the clearness of the sky made me think that the wind would go to the eastward, but as yet there was no sign of it veering from the old quarter.
We had been heading west ever since we hove to, and travelling broadside on dead south south-east. Now, if wind and sea dropped, our business would be to make sailif possible, and, with the wind holding north north-west, make an eight hours' board north-easterly, and then round and stand for Bermuda.
This, of course, would depend upon the weather.
It was, however, more than possible that we should be picked up very soon by some passing ship. It was not as though we were down away in the South Pacific, or knocking about in the poisonous Gulf of Guinea, or up in the North Atlantic at 60°. We were on a great ocean highway, crossed and re-crossed by English, American, Dutch, and French ships, to and from all parts of the world; and bad indeed would our fortune be, and baleful the star under which we sailed, if we were not overhauled in a short time and assistance rendered us.
A great though unexpressed ambition of mine was to save the ship and navigateher myself, not necessarily to England, but to some port whence I could communicate with her owners and ask for instructions.
As I have elsewhere admitted, I was entirely dependent on my profession, my father having been a retired army surgeon, who had died extremely poor, leaving me at the age of twelve an orphan, with no other friend in the world than the vicar of the parish we dwelt in, who generously sent me to school for two years at his own expense, and then, after sounding my inclinations, apprenticed me to the sea.
Under such circumstances, therefore, it would be highly advantageous to my interests to save the ship, since my doing so would prefer some definite claims upon the attention of the owners, or perhaps excite the notice of another firm more generous in their dealings with their servants, and of a higher commercial standing.
Whilst I stood dreaming in this manner at the wheel, allowing my thoughts to run on until I pictured myself the commander of a fine ship, and ending in allowing my mind to become engrossed with thoughts of Mary Robertson, whom I believed I should never see again after we had bidden each other farewell on shore, and who would soon forget the young second mate, whom destiny had thrown her with for a little time of trouble and suffering and death, I beheld a figure advance along the poop, and on its approach I perceived the boatswain.
"I've been sounding the well, Mr. Royle," said he. "I roused up on a sudden and went and did it, as I woke up anxious; and there's bad news, sir, twelve inches o' water."
"Twelve inches!" I cried.
"It's true enough. I found the bull's-eye on the cuddy table, and the rod don't tell no lies when it's properly used."
"The pumps suck at four inches, don't they?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then that's a rise of eight inches since half-past nine o'clock. What time is it now?"
"Twenty minutes arter ten."
"We must man the pumps at once. Call Cornish. You'll find the steward on a mattress against the companion ladder."
He paused a moment to look round him at the weather, and then went away.
I could not doubt now that the ship was leaky, and after what we had endured, and my fond expectation of saving the vessel—and the miserable death, after all our hopes, that might be in store for us—I felt that it was very very hard on us, and I yielded to a fit of despair.
What struck most home to me was that my passionate dream to save Mary Robertson might be defeated. The miseries which had been accumulated on her wrung my heart to think of. First her shipwreck, and then the peril of the mutiny, and then the dreadful storm that had held us face to face with death throughout the fearful day, and then the death of her father, and now this new horror of the ship whereon we stood filling with water beneath our feet.
Yet hope—and God be praised for this mercy to all men—springs eternal, and after a few minutes my despair was mastered by reflection. If the ship made no more water than eight inches in three-quarters of an hour, it would be possible to keep her afloat for some days by regular spells at the pump, and there were four hands to work them if Miss Robertson steered whilst we pumped.In that time it would be a thousand to one if our signal of distress was not seen and answered.
Presently I heard the men pumping on the main-deck, and the boatswain's voice singing to encourage the others. What courage that man had! I, who tell this story, am ashamed to think of the prominence I give to my own small actions when all the heroism belongs to him. I know not what great writer it was who, visiting the field of the battle of Waterloo, asked how it was that the officers who fell in that fight had graves and monuments erected to them, when the soldiers—the privates by whom all the hard work was done, who showed all the courage and won the battle—lay nameless in hidden pits? And so when we send ships to discover the North Pole we have little to say about poor Jack, who loses his life by scurvy, or his toes and nose by frost-bites, who labours manfully, and who makes all the success of the expedition so far as it goes. Our shouts are for Jack's officer; we title him, we lionize him—hiswas all the work, all the suffering, all the anxiety, we think. I, who have been to sea, say that Jack deserves as much praise as his skipper, and perhaps a little more; and if honour is to be bestowed, let Jack have his share; and if a monument is to be raised, let poor Jack's name be written on the stone as well as the other's; for be sure that Jack could have done without the other, but also be sure that the other couldn't have done without Jack.
Chained to my post, which I dared not vacate for a moment, for the ship pitched heavily, and required close watching as she came to and fell off upon the swinging seas, I grew miserably anxious to learn how the pumping progressed, and felt that, after theboatswain, my own hands would do four times the work of the other two.
It was our peculiar misfortune that of the four men on board the ship three only should be capable; and that as one of the three men was constantly required at the wheel, there were but two available men to do the work. Had the steward been a sailor our difficulties would have been considerably diminished, and I bitterly deplored my want of judgment in allowing Fish and the Dutchman to be destroyed; for though I would not have trusted Johnson and Stevens, yet the other two might have been brought over to work for us, and I had no doubt that the spectacle of the perishing wretches in the long-boat, as she was whirled past us, would have produced as salutary an effect upon them as it had upon Cornish; and with two extra hands of this kind we could not only have kept the pumps going, buthave made shift to sail the ship at the same time.
The hollow thrashing sounds of the pump either found Miss Robertson awake or aroused her, for soon after the pumping had commenced she came on deck, swathed in the big warm overcoat and fur cap.
Such a costume for a girl must make you laugh in the description; and yet, believe me, she lost in nothing by it. The coat dwarfed her figure somewhat, but the fur cap looked luxurious against her fair hair, and nothing could detract from the exquisite femininity of her face, manner, and carriage. I speak of the impression she had made on me in the daytime; the starlight only revealed her white face now to me.
"Is the water still coming into the ship?" she asked.
"The bo'sun has reported to me thateight inches deep have come into her since half-past nine."
"Is that much?"
"More than we want."
"I don't like to trouble you with my questions, Mr. Royle; but I am very, very anxious."
"Of course you are; and do not suppose that you can trouble. Ask me what you will. I promise to tell you the truth."
"If you find that you cannot pump the water out as fast as it comes in, what will you do?"
"Leave the ship."
"How?" she exclaimed, looking around her.
"By that quarter-boat there."
"But it would fill with water and sink in such waves as these."
"These waves are not going to last, andit is quite likely that by this time to-morrow the sea will be calm."
"Will the ship keep afloat until to-morrow?"
"If the water does not come in more rapidly than it does at present, the ship will keep afloat so long as we can manage to pump her out every hour. And so," said I, laughing to encourage her, "we are not going to die all at once, you see."
She drew quite close to me andsaid—
"I shall never fear death while you remain on board, Mr. Royle. You have saved me from death once, and, though I may be wicked in daring to prophesy, yet I feelcertain—certain," she repeated, with singular emphasis, "that you will save my life again."
"I shall try very hard, be sure of that," I answered.
"I believe—no, it is not so much a beliefas a strong conviction, with which my mind seems to have nothing to do, that, whatever dangers may be before us, you and I will not perish."
She paused, and I saw that she was looking at me earnestly.
"You will not think me superstitious if I tell you that the reason of my conviction is a dream? My poor father came and stood beside me: he was soreal! I stretched out my arms to him, and he took my hand and said, 'Darling, do not fear! He who has saved your life once will save it again. God will have mercy upon you and him for the prayers you offered to Him.' He stooped and kissed me and faded away, and I started up and heard the men pumping. I went to look at him, for I thought ... I thought he had really come to my side.... Oh, Mr. Royle, his spirit is with us!"
Though my mind was of too prosaic aturn to catch at any significance in a dream, yet there was a strange, deep, solemn tenderness in her voice and manner as she related this vision, that impressed me. It made my heart leap to hear her own sweet lips pronounce her faith in me, and my natural hopes and longings for life gathered a new light and enthusiasm from her own belief in our future salvation.
"Shipwrecked persons have been saved by a dream before now," I replied, gravely. "Many years ago a vessel called theMarywent ashore on some rocks to the southward of one of the Channel Islands. A few of the crew managed to gain the rocks, where they existed ten or twelve days without water or any kind of food save limpets, which only increased their thirst without relieving their hunger. A vessel bound out of Guernsey passed the rocks at a distance too far away to observe the signals of distressmade by the perishing men. But the son of the captain had twice dreamed that there were persons dying on those rocks, and so importuned his father to stand close to them that the man with great reluctance consented. In this way, and by a dream, those sailors were saved. Though I do not, as a rule, believe in dreams, I believe this story to be true, and I believe in your dream."
She remained silent, but the ship presently giving a sudden lurch, she put her hand on my arm to steady herself, and kept it there. Had I dared I should have bent my head and kissed the little hand. She could not know how much she made me love her by such actions as this.
"The boatswain has told me," she said, after a short silence, "that you want to save the ship. I asked him why? Are you angry with me for being curious?"
"Not in the least. What did he answer?"
"He said that you thought the owners would recompense you for your fidelity, and promote you in their service."
"Now how could he know this? I have never spoken such thoughts to him."
"It would not be difficult to guess such a wish."
"Well, I don't know that I have any right to expect promotion or recompense of any kind from owners who send their ship to sea so badly provisioned that the men mutiny."
"But if the water gains upon the ship you will not be able to save her?"
"No, she must sink."
"What will you do then?"
"Put you on shore or on board another ship," I replied, laughing at my own evasion, for I knew what she meant.
"Oh, of course, if we do not reach the shore we shall none of us be able to do anything," she said, dropping her head, for she stood close enough to the binnacle light to enable me to see her movements and almost catch the expression on her face. "I mean what will you do when we get ashore?"
"I must try to get another ship."
"To command?"
"Oh dear no! as second mate, if they'll have me."
"If command of a ship were given you would you accept it?"
"If I could, but I can't."
She asked quickly, "Why not?"
"Because I have not passed an examination as master."
She was silent again, and I caught myself listening eagerly to the sound of the pumping going on on the main-deck and wonderingat my own levity in the face of our danger. But I could not help forgetting a very great deal when she was at my side.
All at once it flashed upon me that her father owned several ships, and that her questions were preliminary to her offering me the command of one of them.
I give you my honour that all recollection of who and what she was, of her station on shore, of her wealth as the old man's heiress, had as absolutely gone out of my mind as if the knowledge had never been imparted. What she was to me—what love and the wonderful association of danger and death had endeared her to me as—was what she was as she stood by my side, a sweet and gentle woman whom my heart was drawing closer and closer to every hour, whose life I would have died to preserve, whose danger made my own life a larger necessity to me than I should have felt it.
A momentary emotion of disappointment, a resentment whereof I knew not the meaning, through lacking the leisure or the skill to analyse it, made me turn andsay—
"Would you like me to command one of your ships, Miss Robertson?"
"Yes," she answered, promptly.
"As a recompense for my humane efforts to preserve you from drowning?"
She withdrew her hand from my arm and inclined her head to look me full in the face.
"Mr. Royle, I never thought you would speak to me like that."
"I want no recompense for what I have done, Miss Robertson."
"I have not offered you any recompense."
"Let me feel," I said, "that you understand it is possible for an English sailor to do his duty without asking or expecting any manner of reward. The Humane Society's medals are not for him."
"Why are you angry with me?" she exclaimed, sinking her head, and speaking with a little sob in her voice.
I was stirred to the heart by her broken tones, andanswered—
"I am not angry. I could not be angry with you. I wish you to feel that what I have done, that whatever I may do is ... is...."
I faltered and stopped—an ignominious break down! though I think it concealed the true secret of my resentment.
I covered my confusion by taking her hand, and resting it on my arm again.
"Do you mean," she said, "that all you have done has been for my sake only—out of humanity—that you would do as much for anybody else?"
"No," said I, boldly.
Again she withdrew her hand and remained silent, and I made up my mind not to interrupt her thoughts.
After a few moments she went to the ship's side, and stood there; sometimes looking at the stars, and sometimes at the water that stretched away into the gloom in heavy breaking seas.
The wind was singing shrilly up aloft, but the sounds of the pumping ceased on a sudden.
I awaited the approach of the boatswain with inexpressible anxiety. After an interval I saw his figure come up the poop ladder.
"Pumps suck!" he roared out.
"Hurrah!" I shouted. "Down with you for grog all round," for the other two were following the boatswain. But they all came aft first and stood near the wheel, blowing like whales, and Miss Robertson joined the group.
"If it's no worse than this, bo'sun," I exclaimed, "she'll do."
"Aye, she'll do, sir; but it's hard work. My arms feel as though they wos tied up in knots."
"So do mine," said the steward.
"Shall I take the wheel?" asked Cornish.
"No; go and get some grog and turn in, all of you. I am as fresh as a lark, and will stay here till twelve o'clock," I replied.
The steward at once shuffled below.
"Boatswain, ask Mr. Royle to let me take the wheel," said Miss Robertson. "He has been talking to me for the last half-hour and sometimes held the wheel with one hand. I am sure I can hold it."
"As you won't go below, Miss Robertson, you shall steer; but I will stop by you," I said.
"That will be of no use!" she exclaimed.
Cornish smothered a laugh and walked away.
"Now, bo'sun, down with you," I cried."I'll have you up again shortly to sound the well. But half an hour's sleep is something. If you get knocked up, I lose half the ship's company—two-thirds of it."
"All right, sir," he replied, with a prodigious yawn. "You an' the lady 'll know how to settle this here business of steering."
And off he went.
"You see how obedient these men are, Miss Robertson. Why will you not obey orders, and get some sleep?"
"I have offended you, Mr. Royle, and I am very, very sorry."
"Let us make peace then," I said, holding out my hand.
She took it; but when I had got her hand, I would not let it go for some moments.
She was leaving the deck in silence when she came back andsaid—
"If we should have to leave this shipsuddenly, I should not like—it would make me unhappy for ever to think of poor papa left in her."
She spoke, poor girl, with a great effort.
I answeredimmediately—
"Any wish you may express shall be carried out."
"He would go down in this ship without a prayer said for him," she exclaimed, sobbing.
"Will you leave this with me? I promise you that no tenderness, no reverence, no sincere sorrow shall be wanting."
"Mr. Royle, you are a dear good friend to me. God knows how lonely I should have been without you—and yet—I made you angry."
"Do not say that. What I do I do for your safety—for your ultimate happiness—so that when we say farewell to each other on shore, I may feel that the trust whichGod gave me in you was honourably and faithfully discharged. I desire, if our lives are spared, that this memory may follow me when all this scene is changed, and we behold it again only in our dreams. I should have told you my meaning just now, but one cannot always express one's thoughts."
"You have told me your meaning, and I shall not forget it. God bless you!" she exclaimed, in her calm, earnest voice, and went slowly down into the cuddy.