"My father will die!" groaned the poor girl. "Nothing can save him now."
"No, he won't die. He isn't very bad yet, Mollie."
"O, yes, he is. He does not speak to me; he does not know me."
"He is doing very well, Mollie. Don't give it up yet."
"I feel that he will soon leave me."
"No, he won't, Mollie. Iknowhe will get well," said Noddy, with the most determined emphasis.
"How do you know?"
"I feel that he will. He isn't half so bad as Mr. Watts was. Cheer up, and he will be all right in a few days."
"But think how terrible it would be for my poor father to die, away here in the middle of the ocean," continued Mollie, weeping most bitterly, as she thought of the future.
"But he will not die; I am just as sure that he will get well, as I am that I am alive now."
Noddy had no reason whatever for this strong assertion, and he made it only to comfort his friend. It was not made in vain, for the afflicted daughter was willing to cling to any hope, however slight, andthe confident words of the boy made an impression upon her. The morrow came, and the captain was decidedly better; but from the forecastle came the gloomy report that two more of the men had been struck down by the disease.
There were but three seamen left who were able to do duty, and Mr. Lincoln, the second mate, was nearly exhausted by watching and anxiety. Fortunately, the weather had been fine, and the Roebuck had been under all sail, with a fair wind. Noddy had obtained a little sleep during the second night of the captain's illness, and he went on deck to report to the mate for duty. He was competent to steer the vessel in a light breeze, and he was permitted to relieve the man at the wheel.
He stood his trick of two hours, and then went below, to ascertain the condition of the captain. As he descended the ladder, he discovered the form of Mollie extended on one of the lockers. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing heavily. Noddy was appalled at this sight, for he knew too well what these indications meant.
"What is the matter, Mollie?" asked he, hardly able to speak the words from the violence of his emotion.
"It is my turn now, Noddy," replied she, in faint tones. "Who will pray for me?"
"I will, Mollie; but what ails you?"
"I am burning up with heat, and perishing with cold. My back feels as if it was broken, and the pain darts up through my neck into my head. I know very well what it means. You will take care of my poor father—won't you, Noddy?"
"To be sure I will. You must turn in, Mollie, and let me take care of you, too," said he, trying to be as calm as the terrible situation required of him.
He assisted the stricken maiden to her state-room, and placed her in her berth. Taking from the medicine chest the now familiar remedy, he gave her the potion, and tenderly ministered to all her wants. She was very sick, for she had struggled with the destroying malady for hours before she yielded to its insidious advances.
"Thank you, Noddy. I feel better now, and I shall soon be happy. Go now and see to my father; don't let him want for anything."
"I will not, Mollie; I will take first-rate care of him," answered Noddy, as he smoothed down the clothing around her neck.
"My father is the captain of the ship, you know," added she, with a smile. "He is a great man; bigger than any shark you ever saw."
Her mind had begun to wander already; and her patient nurse could hardly keep down his tears, as he gazed at her flushed cheeks, and smoothed down the curls upon her neck. She was beautiful to him—too beautiful to die there in mid ocean, with none but rude men to shed great tears over her silent form. How he wished that Bertha was there, to watch over that frail little form, and ward off the grim tyrant that was struggling to possess it! She would not fear the pangs of the pestilence; she would be an angel in the little state-room, and bring down peace and hope, if not life, to the lovely sufferer.
Noddy felt as he had never felt before, not even when the dread monster of the deep had almost snapped up the slight form before him. All the good lessons he had ever learned in his life came to him with a force they had never possessed in the sunny hour of prosperity. He wanted to pray. He felt the need of a strength not his own. Mollie could not pray now. Her mind was darkened by the shadows of disease. He went out into the cabin. It looked as cheerless, and cold, and gloomy, as the inside ofa tomb. But God was there; and though Noddy could not speak the words of his prayer, his heart breathed a spirit which the infinite Father could understand. He prayed, as he had promised the sick girl he would, and the strength which prayer had given to her was given to him.
"Here is work for me," said he, as he approached the door of the captain's state-room. "But I am able to do it. I will never give up this work."
He did not know what he was to win by this work of love, amid trials and tribulation. He had struggled with the disposition to despond; he had worked like a hero to keep his spirits up; and that which he was called upon to do with his hands was small and trivial compared with that which was done by his mind and heart. He had conquered fear and despair.
Thus prepared to battle with the giant ills which surrounded him, he entered Captain McClintock's room.
"Isthat you, Noddy?" asked the captain, faintly.
"Yes, sir. How do you feel, captain?"
"I think I'm a little better. I wish you would ask Mollie to come in; I want to see her."
"Does your head ache now, sir?" asked Noddy, who did not like to tell him that his daughter had just been taken with the fever.
"Not so bad as it did. Just speak to Mollie."
"I think you are ever so much better, sir. You will be out in a day or two."
"Do you think so, Noddy?"
"Yes, sir; I'm certain you will," answered the boy, who knew that faith was life in the present instance.
"I'm glad you think so. I certainly feel a greatdeal better," replied the captain, as though he was already cheered by the inspiration of hope.
"You must be careful, and keep still; and you will be all right in a week, at the most."
"I hope so; for I couldn't help thinking, when I was taken down, what a bitter thing it would be to poor Mollie if I should die so far from home and friends."
"You have got over the worst of it now, captain."
"Is Mollie out in the cabin?" asked the sufferer, persistently returning to the subject near his heart.
"No, sir; she is not, just now."
"Has she gone on deck?"
"No, sir."
"Where is she, Noddy?" demanded he, earnestly, as he attempted to raise himself up in his cot.
"Don't stir, captain; it will make you worse, if you do."
"Tell me where Mollie is at once, or I shall jump out of my berth. Is she—is she—"
"She is in her room, captain. Don't be worried about her," replied Noddy, who was afraid that thetruth would have a bad effect upon the devoted father. "She laid down a little while ago."
"Is she dead?" gasped the captain, with a mighty effort to utter the appalling word.
"O, no, sir! She was taken sick a little while ago."
"O, mercy!" groaned the sick man. "I know it all now."
"It's no use to deny it, sir. She has got the fever."
"And I lay here helpless!"
"She said she felt a little better when I came out. I gave her the medicine, and did everything for her."
"I must go to her."
"You will worry her to death, if you do, captain. She is more troubled about you than she is about herself. If you lay still, so I can report that you are doing well, it will be the best thing in the world for her. It will do her more good than the medicine."
"Tell her I am well, Noddy!"
"It won't do to tell her too much; she won't believe anything, if I do," said Noddy, sorely troubled about the moral management of the cases.
"Tell her I am well, Noddy; and I will go and sitby her," replied the sufferer, who was no more able to get out of his bed than he was to cure the fearful disease.
"I can't do anything, captain, if you don't keep still in your bed. She is a little out just now; but I think she will do very well, if you only let her alone."
Captain McClintock was in an agony of suspense; but Noddy succeeded in consoling him so that he promised to remain quietly in his bed. As physician and nurse, as well as friend and comforter, the cabin-boy found his hands full; but he had a heart big enough for the occasion; and all day and all night he went from one patient to another, ministering to their wants with as much skill and judgment as though he had been trained in a sick room.
Mollie grow worse as the hours wore heavily away; but this was to be expected, and the patient nurse was not discouraged by the progressive indications of the disease. Towards morning the captain went to sleep; but it required all the faithful boy's energies to keep Mollie in her bed, as she raved with the heated brain of the malady.
In the morning one of the seamen was reported out of danger, and the others in a hopeful condition.Noddy was completely exhausted by his labors and his solicitude. Mr. Lincoln saw that he could endure no more; and as he had obtained a few hours' sleep on deck during the night, he insisted that the weary boy should have some rest, while he took care of the sick. Noddy crawled into his berth, and not even his anxiety for poor Mollie could keep him awake any longer. He slept heavily, and the considerate mate did not wake him till dinner-time, when he sprang from his berth and hastened to the couch of the sick girl.
Another day passed, and Mollie began to exhibit some hopeful symptoms. Her father was still improving. The patients in the forecastle were also getting better. Noddy felt that no more of the Roebuck's people were to be cast into the sea. Hope gave him new life. He was rested and refreshed by the bright prospect quite as much as by the sleep which the kindness of Mr. Lincoln enabled him to obtain.
The schooner still sped on her course with favoring breezes; while Noddy, patient and hopeful, performed the various duties which the fell disease imposed upon him. He had not regarded the danger of taking the fever himself. He had no thoughtnow for any one but poor Mollie, who was daily improving. One by one the crew, who had been stricken down with the malady, returned to the deck; but it was a long time before they were able to do their full measure of duty. In a week after Mollie was taken sick, her father was able to sit a portion of the day by her side; and a few days later, she was able to sit up for a few moments.
The terrible scourge had wasted itself; but the chief mate and three of the crew had fallen victims to the sad visitation. Yellow fever patients convalesce very slowly; and it was a fortnight before Captain McClintock was able to go on deck; but at the same time, Mollie, weak and attenuated by her sufferings, was helped up the ladder by her devoted friend and nurse. The cloud had passed away from the vessel, and everybody on board was as happy as though disease and death had never invaded those wooden walls. But the happiness was toned to the circumstances. Hearts had been purified by suffering. Neither the officers nor the men swore; they spoke to each other in gentle tones, as though the tribulations through which they had passed had softened their hearts, and bound them together in a holier than earthly affection.
As Mr. Watts and three sailors had died, the vessel was short-handed, but not crippled; and the captain decided to prosecute his voyage without putting into any port for assistance. Mr. Lincoln was appointed chief mate, and a second mate was selected from the forecastle. Everything went along as before the storm burst upon the devoted vessel.
"How happy I am, Noddy!" exclaimed Mollie, as they sat on deck one afternoon, when she had nearly recovered her strength. "My father was saved, and I am saved. How grateful I am!"
"So am I, Mollie," replied Noddy.
"And how much we both owe to you! Wasn't it strange you didn't take the fever?"
"I think it was."
"Were you not afraid of it?"
"I didn't think anything about it, any way; but I feel just as though I had gone through with the fever, or something else."
"Why?"
"I don't know; everything looks odd and strange to me. I don't feel like the same fellow."
Mollie persisted in her desire to know how the cabin-boy felt, and Noddy found it exceedingly difficult to describe his feelings. Much of the religiousimpressions which he had derived from the days of tribulation still clung to him. His views of life and death had changed. Many of Bertha's teachings, which he could not understand before, were very plain to him now. He did not believe it would be possible for him to do anything wrong again. Hopes and fears had been his incentives to duty before; principle had grown up in his soul now. The experience of years seemed to be crowded into the few short days when gloom and death reigned in the vessel.
The Roebuck sped on her way, generally favored with good weather and fair winds. She was a stanch vessel, and behaved well in the few storms she encountered. She doubled Cape Horn without subjecting her crew to any severe hardships, and sped on her way to more genial climes. For several weeks after his recovery, Captain McClintock kept very steady, and Mollie hoped that the "evil days" had passed by. It was a vain hope; for when the schooner entered the Pacific, his excesses were again apparent. He went on from bad to worse, till he was sober hardly a single hour of the day. In vain did Mollie plead with him; in vain she reminded him of the time when they had both lain at death's door;in vain she assured him that she feared the bottle more than the fever. He was infatuated by the demon of the cup, and seemed to have no moral power left.
The Roebuck was approaching the thick clusters of islands that stud the Pacific; and it was important that the vessel should be skilfully navigated. Mr. Lincoln was a good seaman, but he was not a navigator; that is, he was not competent to find the latitude and longitude, and lay down the ship's position on the chart. The captain was seldom in condition to make an observation, and the schooner was in peril of being dashed to pieces on the rocks. The mate was fully alive to the difficulties of his position; and he told Mollie what must be the consequences of her father's continued neglect. The sea in which they were then sailing was full of islands and coral reefs. There were indications of a storm, and he could not save the vessel without knowing where she was.
"Noddy," said the troubled maiden, after Mr. Lincoln had explained the situation to her, "I want you to help me."
"I'm ready," replied he, with his usual promptness.
"We are going to ruin. My poor father is in a terrible state, and I am going to do something."
"What can you do?"
"You shall help me, but I will bear all the blame."
"You would not do anything wrong, and I am willing to bear the blame with you."
"Never mind that; we are going to do what's right, and we will not say a word about the blame. Now come with me," she continued, leading the way to the cabin.
"I am willing to do anything that is right, wherever the blame falls."
"We must save the vessel, for the mate says she is in great danger. There is a storm coming, and Mr. Lincoln don't know where we are. Father hasn't taken an observation for four days."
"Well, are you going to take one?" asked Noddy, who was rather bewildered by Mollie's statement of the perils of the vessel.
"No; but I intend that father shall to-morrow."
"What are you going to do?"
She opened the pantry door, and took from the shelf a bottle of gin.
"Take this, Noddy, and throw it overboard," said she, handing him the bottle.
"I'll do that;" and he went to the bull's eye, in Molli's state-room, and dropped it into the sea.
"That's only a part of the work," said she, as she opened one of the lockers in the cabin, which was stowed full of liquors.
She passed them out, two at a time, and Noddy dropped them all into the ocean. Captain McClintock was lying in his state-room, in a helpless state of intoxication, so that there was no fear of interruption from him. Every bottle of wine, ale, and liquor which the cabin contained was thrown overboard. Noddy thought that the sharks, which swallow everything that falls overboard, would all get "tight;" but he hoped they would break the bottles before they swallowed them. The work was done, and everything which could intoxicate was gone; at least everything which Mollie and the cabin-boy could find. They did not tell Mr. Lincoln what they had done, for they did not wish to make him a party to the transaction.
They were satisfied with their work. The vessel would be saved if the storm held off twelve hours longer. The captain rose early the next morning,and Noddy, from his berth, saw him go to the pantry for his morning dram. There was no bottle there. He went to the locker; there was none there. He searched, without success, in all the lockers and berths of the cabin. While he was engaged in the search, Mollie, who had heard him, came out of her room.
The captain's hand shook, and his whole frame trembled from the effects of his long-inebriation. His nerves were shattered, and nothing but liquor could quiet them. Mollie could not help crying when she saw to what a state her father had been reduced. He was pale and haggard; and when he tried to raise a glass of water to his lips his trembling hand refused its office, and he spilled it on the floor.
"Where is all the liquor, Mollie?" he asked, in shaken, hollow tones.
"I have thrown it all overboard," she replied, firmly.
He was too weak to be angry with her; and she proceeded to tell him what must be the fate of the vessel, and of all on board, if he did not attend to his duty. He listened, and promised not to drink another drop; for he knew then, even when his shattered reason held but partial sway, that he would be the murderer of his daughter and of his crew, if the vessel was wrecked by his neglect. He meant to keep his promise; but the gnawing appetite, which he had fostered and cherished until it became a demon, would not let him do so. In the forenoon, goaded by the insatiate thirst that beset him, he went into the hold, which could be entered from the cabin, and opened a case of liquors, forming part of the cargo. He drank long and deep, and lay down upon the merchandise, that he might be near this demon.
Twelve o'clock came, and no observation could be taken. Mollie looked for her father, and with Noddy's help she found him in the hold, senseless in his inebriation. Mr. Lincoln was called down, and he was conveyed to his berth. The liquor was thrown overboard, but it was too late; before dark the gale broke upon the Roebuck, and fear and trembling were again in the vessel.
Suddenand severe was the gale which came down upon the Roebuck, while her captain was besotted and helpless in his berth. Mr. Lincoln did all that a skilful seaman could do, and while the wind and the waves were the only perils against which the schooner had to contend, there was no serious alarm for her safety. The night had come, and the time had passed by when even Captain McClintock could do anything more than the mate.
Mr. Lincoln had kept the "dead reckoning" as well as he could without any knowledge of the currents; and it was evident that the vessel was in a perilous situation, and not far distant from the region of islands and coral reefs. The first hours of the stormy night wore gloomily away, for none knew at what moment the schooner might be dashed to pieces upon some hidden rock.
When the captain revived a little from the stupor of intoxication, he seemed not to heed the situation of the vessel. Taking the cabin lantern, he went into the hold again. His only thought seemed to be of the liquor on which he lived. All the cases that Mollie and Noddy could find had been thrown overboard; but the drunkard overhauled the cargo till he found what he wanted, and taking a bottle of gin to his state-room, he was soon as senseless as the fiery fluid could make him.
Mollie did all that she could do under these trying circumstances; she prayed that the good Father who had saved them before, would be with them now; and she knew that the strong arm of Omnipotence could move far from them the perils with which they were surrounded. She felt better every time she prayed. But the storm increased in fury, and she knew not the purposes of the Infinite in regard to them.
"I am afraid we shall never see the light of another day, Noddy," said she, as the great seas struck with stunning force against the side of the vessel.
"Why not? We have been out in a worse gale than this," replied Noddy, who felt that it was hispeculiar office to keep hope alive in the heart of his gentle companion.
"But we may be in the midst of the rocks and shoals."
"We shall do very well, Mollie. Don't give it up."
"I don't give it up; but I am ready for anything. I want to be resigned to my fate whenever it comes."
"Don't be so blue about it, Mollie. It will be all right with us in the morning."
"You heard what Mr. Lincoln said, and you know we are in great danger."
"Perhaps we are."
"You know we are, Noddy."
"Well, we are; but for all that, the vessel will ride out the gale, and to-morrow you will laugh to think how scared you were."
"I am not scared; I am ready to die. Promise me one thing, Noddy."
"Anything," answered he, promptly.
"You will not blame my father if the vessel is lost. He is insane; he can't help what he does. He never did so before, and I know he don't mean to do wrong."
"I suppose he don't, and I won't blame him, whatever happens," replied he, willing to comfort the poor girl in any way he could.
"I should not care so much if it didn't look as though it was all father's fault."
"It will be all right to-morrow. We will throw the rest of the liquor overboard. We will search through the hold, and not leave a single bottle of anything there. Then we shall be safe."
"It will be too late then," sighed Mollie.
"No, it won't; the vessel will be saved. Iknowit will," added Noddy, resolutely.
"You don't know."
"Yes, I do; I am just as certain of it as I am of my own existence."
Noddy had hardly uttered these confident words, before a tremendous shock threw them upon the cabin floor. It was followed by a terrible crashing sound, as though every timber in the vessel had been rent and broken; and they could hear the rush of waters, as the torrents poured in through the broken sides. Noddy, without stopping to think of the vain prophecy he had made, seized the light form of Mollie, and bore her to the deck. The sea was running riot there; the great waves swept over the deck with aforce which no human strength could resist, and Noddy was compelled to retreat to the cabin again.
The lantern still swung from a deck beam, but the water had risen in the cabin so that his descent was prevented. The Roebuck had run upon a reef or shoal in such a manner that her bow was projected far out of the water, while her stern was almost submerged in the waves. Noddy's quick perception enabled him to comprehend the position of the vessel, and he placed his charge on the companion ladder, which was protected in a measure from the force of the sea by the hatch, closed on the top, and open only on the front.
"My father!" gasped Mollie. "Save him, Noddy!"
"I will try," replied Noddy. "Hold on tight," added he, as a heavy volume of water rolled down the companion-way.
"Save him, and don't mind me," groaned the poor girl, unselfish to the last.
The brave boy stepped down to the cabin floor, where the water was up to his hips. Creeping on the top of the lockers, and holding on to the front of the berths, he reached the door of the captain's state-room. In this part of the vessel the water had risennearly to the top of the door, and the berth in which the unfortunate inebriate lay was entirely beneath its surface. He crawled into the room, and put his hand into the berth. The captain was not there.
The water was still rising, and Noddy had no doubt that the poor man had already perished. The shock of the collision when the schooner struck, or the rising waters, had forced him from his position on the bed. The water was over Noddy's head in the state-room; but the agony of Mollie induced him to make a desperate effort to save her father. He dropped down on the floor, and felt about with his feet, till he found the body. The question was settled. Captain McClintock was dead. He was one of the first victims of his criminal neglect.
It was not safe to remain longer in the state-room, even if there had been any motive for doing so, and Noddy worked his way forward again as he had come. He found Mollie still clinging to the ladder, suffering everything on account of her father, and nothing for herself.
"My poor father!" said she, when she discovered her friend coming back without him. "Where is he, Noddy?"
"I couldn't do anything for him, Mollie," replied he.
"Is he lost?"
"He is gone, Mollie; and it was all over with him before I got there. Don't cry. He is out of trouble now."
"Poor father," sobbed she. "Couldn't you save him? Let me go and help you."
"No use, Mollie," added Noddy, as he climbed up the ladder, and looked out through the aperture at the hatch.
"Are you sure we can't do anything for him?" she asked, in trembling tones.
"Nothing, Mollie. He was dead when I opened the door of his room. I found him on the floor, and had to go down over my head to find him. He did not move or struggle, and I'm sure he is dead. I am sorry, but I can't help it."
"O, dear, dear!" groaned she, in her anguish.
She heeded not the cracking timbers and the roaring sea. Her heart was with the unfortunate man who lay cold and still beneath the invading waters. She was ready to go with him to the home in the silent land.
"You hold on tight a little while, and I will go ondeck, and see if I can make out where we are," said Noddy.
"It matters little to me where we are. I shall soon be with my father," replied Mollie.
"Don't say that. Your father is at rest now."
"And I shall soon be at rest with him. Do you hear those terrible waves beat against the vessel? They will break her in pieces in a few moments more."
"Perhaps they will, and perhaps they won't. You mustn't give up, Mollie. If I should lose you now, I shouldn't care what became of me."
"You have been very good to me, Noddy; and I hope God will bless you."
"I want to save you if I can."
"You cannot, Noddy, in this terrible storm. We are poor weak children, and we can do nothing."
"But I am bound to work and win. I shall not give it up yet, Mollie. We have struck upon a rock or a shoal, and the land can't be a great ways off."
"Such an awful sea! We could never reach the land."
"We can try—can't we?"
"Where is Mr. Lincoln?"
"I don't know. I have not heard a sound but thenoise of the sea since the vessel struck. I suppose he and the rest of the men were washed overboard."
"How horrible!"
"I don't know. They may have left in one of the boats."
"I haven't any courage, Noddy. My poor father is gone, and I don't feel as though it made any difference what became of me."
"Don't talk so, Mollie. Save yourself for my sake, if you don't for your own."
"What can we do?" asked she, blankly, for the situation seemed utterly hopeless.
"I don't know; I will see," replied Noddy, as he crawled through the aperture, and reached the deck.
A huge wave struck him as he rose upon his feet, and bore him down to the lee side of the vessel; but he grasped the shrouds, and saved himself from being hurled into the abyss of waters that boiled in the fury of the storm on both sides of the stranded schooner. He ran up the shrouds a short distance, and tried to penetrate the gloom of the night. He could see nothing but the white froth on the waves, which beat on all sides. There was noland to be seen ahead, as he had expected, and it was evident that the Roebuck had struck on a shoal, at some distance from any shore.
It was impossible to walk forward on the deck, for the savage waves that broke over the vessel would have carried him overboard. The sight suggested the manner in which the men had so suddenly disappeared. They had probably been swept away the moment the vessel struck. The rigging of the schooner was all standing, and Noddy decided to go forward to ascertain if there was any comfortable position there for Mollie. He went to the main-mast head, and, by the spring-stay, reached the fore-mast. Descending by the fore-shrouds, he reached the forecastle of the schooner.
The bow had been thrown up so high on the shoal that the sea did not break over this part of the vessel with anything like the force it did farther aft. The hatch was on the fore-scuttle, and it was possible that the men had taken refuge in the forecastle. Removing the hatch, he called the names of Mr. Lincoln and others; but there was no response. He then went down, and attempted to make his way aft through the hold. This was impossible, and he was obliged to return by the way he had come.
"My poor father!" sighed Mollie, as Noddy reached the ladder to which she was clinging; "I shall never see you again."
"Come, Mollie. I want you to go with me now," said he, taking her by the arm.
"Did you find any of the crew?" she asked.
"Not a single one."
"Poor men!"
"I am afraid they are all drowned; but we may be saved if we only work. If we stay here we shall certainly be lost. If the sea should carry off the companion-hatch, we should be drowned out in spite of all we could do."
"What can we do?"
"We must go forward."
"That is impossible for me, Noddy."
"No, it isn't."
"Save yourself, Noddy, if you can. I do not feel like doing anything."
"I shall stay by you, and if you are lost I shall be lost with you."
"Then I will go with you, and do anything you say," said she, earnestly; for when the life of another was at stake, she was willing to put forth any exertion.
"The vessel holds together first-rate, and if we stick by her till morning, we may find some way to save ourselves. Don't give it up, Mollie. Work and win; that's my motto, you know."
"I am ready to work with you, Noddy, whether you win or not."
The persevering boy got a rope, which he made fast around the little girl's body, and watching his time, at the intervals of the breaking waves, he bore her to the main shrouds. She went up to the mast head without much difficulty, though the force of the wind was so great that Noddy had to hold on to her, to keep her from being blown from the ropes.
At this point he made a sling for her on the spring-stay, in which she sat as a child does in a swing. It was adjusted to the big rope so that it would slip along, and permit her to hold on to the stay with her hands. The vessel seemed to be so wedged in the rocks or sand, on which she had struck, that she did not roll, and the only obstacle to a safe passage from one mast to the other, was the violence of the gale. By Noddy's careful and skilful management, the transit was made in safety through the most imminent peril. The descent to the deck, forward, was more easily accomplished, and theheroic youth soon had the pleasure of seeing his gentle charge safe, for the present, in the forecastle.
He had worked and won, so far. He was satisfied with the past, and hopeful of the future. Having conducted Mollie to a safe place, he turned his attention once more to the situation of the vessel. Looking over the bow, he discovered the dark, ragged rocks, rising a few feet above the water, on which she had struck, but he could not see any land.
TheRoebuck had been built, under the direction of Captain McClintock, for the voyage around Cape Horn. She was a new vessel, and of extra strength, and she held together in spite of the hard thumping she received on the rocks. As she struck, a hole was knocked in her bottom; but her bow had been forced so far up on the rocks that the water which she made all settled aft.
With tender care Noddy had wrapped up his frail companion in a pea jacket he found in the forecastle, and together they waited anxiously for the morning light. The waves beat fiercely against the side of the vessel, pounded on the decks as they rolled over the bulwarks; and the survivors were in continual fear that each moment would witness the destruction of their ark of safety. Noddy had made the best arrangements he could for a speedy exit, in case the worst should be realized.
With the first signs of daylight Noddy was on deck endeavoring to obtain a better knowledge of the location of the wreck. It seemed to him then that the force of the gale had abated, though the sea was hardly less savage than it had been during the night. As the day dawned, he discovered the outline of some dark object, apparently half a mile distant. He watched this sombre pile till there was light enough to satisfy him that it was an island.
"Hurrah!" shouted Noddy,—forgetting, in the joy of this discovery, that death and destruction had reigned on board the Roebuck.
"What is it?" asked Mollie, hardly moved by the gladness of her companion.
"Land ho!" replied he, as he descended the ladder to the forecastle.
"Where is it?" said she, languidly, as though she did not feel much interested in the announcement.
"Right over here, about half a mile off."
"It might as well be a thousand miles off; for we can never get there."
"O, yes, we can. We have the boat on deck. I'm afraid you are discouraged, Mollie."
"I can't help thinking of poor father," said she, bursting into tears again.
Noddy comforted her as well as he could. He told her she ought not to repine at the will of God, who had saved her, though he had permitted her father to be lost; that she ought to be grateful for her own preservation; and, what seemed to be the strongest argument to him, that weeping and "taking on" would do no good. He was but a poor comforter, and only repeated what he had often heard her say in the dark hours of their former tribulation. Her father was dead, and she could not help weeping. Whatever were his faults, and however great had been the error which had brought her to the present extremity, he was her father. In his sober days he had loved her tenderly and devotedly; and it seemed like sacrilege to her to dry the tears which so readily and so freely flowed. They were the natural tribute of affection from a child to a lost parent.
Noddy did not dare to say all he believed, for he was convinced that the death of the captain was a blessing to himself and to his daughter. He was so besotted by the demon that life could henceforth be only a misery to him, and a stumbling-block to her. It required no great faith for him to believe, in the present instance, that the good Father doeth all things well.
The daylight came, and with it the hope of brighter hours. The clouds were breaking away, and the winds subsided almost as suddenly as they had risen. Still the waves broke fiercely over the wreck, and it was impossible to take any steps towards reaching the land, whose green hills and bright valleys gladdened the heart of the storm-tossed sailor-boy. With an axe which he found in the forecastle, he knocked away a couple of the planks of the bulkhead which divided the seamen's quarters from the hold. He passed through, by moving a portion of the miscellaneous cargo, to the cabin, where he obtained some water, some ship bread, and boiled beef.
Poor Mollie had no appetite; but to please her anxious friend, she ate half a biscuit. They passed the forenoon in the forecastle, talking of the past and the future; but the thoughts of the bereaved daughter continually reverted to her father. She talked of him; of what he had been to her, and of the bright hopes which she had cherished of the future. She was positive she should never be happy again. After much persuasion, Noddy induced her to lie down in one of the bunks, and being thoroughly exhausted by anxiety and the loss of rest, she went to sleep,which gave her patient friend a great deal of satisfaction.
She slept, and Noddy went on deck again. The waves had now subsided, so that he could go aft. He found that the jolly-boat was gone from the stern davits. At first he supposed it had been washed away by the heavy sea; but a further examination convinced him that it had been lowered by the men. It was possible, if not probable, the crew had taken to the boat, and he might find them on the island, or a portion of them, for it was hardly to be expected that the whole crew had escaped.
From the deck he went below. He had anticipated that the fall of the tide would enable him to enter the state-room of the captain; but there was no perceptible change in the height of the water. In this locality the whole range of the tide was not more than a foot. There were many things which might be of great value to Mollie, if they ever escaped from this region, and he was anxious to save them for her use. The captain had a considerable sum of money in gold and silver. The cabin-boy, knowing where it was, set himself at work to obtain it. He was obliged to dive several times before hesucceeded; but at last he brought it up, and deposited it in the safest place he could find.
Other articles of value were saved in the same manner, including the captain's chronometer and sextant, the sad neglect of which had caused the terrible disaster. Towards night a change in the wind "knocked down" the sea, and the waves no longer dashed against the shattered vessel. The galley had been washed away; but the boat on deck, though thrown from the blocks, was still uninjured; and Noddy was sorely perplexed to find a means of getting it overboard. It was too late, and he was too tired to accomplish anything that night.
Mollie was awake when he went to the forecastle again; and rest and refreshment had made her more cheerful and more hopeful. She spoke with greater interest of the future, and dwelt less mournfully on the sad event which had made her an orphan. Noddy told her his plans for the morrow; that he intended to launch the long-boat, and visit the island the next day; that he would build a house for her; and that they would be happy there till some passing whaler picked them up. The tired boy, now secure of life, went to sleep. His fair companion wept again, as she thought of the pleasant days when herfather had been a joy to every hour of her existence; but she, too, went to sleep, with none to watch over her but the good Father who had saved her in all the perils through which she had passed.
The sun rose clear and bright the next morning, and Noddy went on deck to prepare their simple breakfast. He had constructed a fireplace of iron plates, and he boiled some water to make tea. Mollie soon joined him; and sad as she still was, she insisted that the cooking was her duty. She performed it, while Noddy employed himself in devising some plan by which, with his feeble powers, he could hoist the heavy boat into the water. The bulwarks had been partially stove on one side, and he cleared away the wreck till there was nothing to obstruct the passage of the boat over the side.
They sat down on the deck to eat their breakfast; and during the meal Noddy was very quiet and thoughtful. Occasionally he cast his eyes up at the rigging over their heads. Mollie could not help looking at him. She had a great admiration for him; he had been so kind to her, and so brave and cheerful in the discharge of the duties which the awful catastrophe imposed upon him. Besides, he was her only friend—her only hope now.
"What are you thinking about, Noddy?" asked she, perplexed by his unusually meditative mood.
"I was thinking how I should get the boat into the water."
"You can't get it into the water. What can a small boy like you do with a great boat like that?"
"I think I can manage it somehow."
"I am afraid not."
"Don't give it up, Mollie; our salvation depends on that boat. I found out something more, when I went aloft this morning."
"What?"
"There is another island off here to the northward, just as far as you can see. We may wish to go there, and the boat would be wanted then."
"Noddy, perhaps there are savages on those islands, who will kill us if we go on shore."
"Two can play at that game," replied Noddy, in his confident tone.
"What could a boy like you do against a mob of Indians?"
"There are two or three pistols in the cabin, and I think I know how to use them; at any rate I shall not be butchered, nor let you be, without showing them what I am made of," answered Noddy, as he rose from the planks, and turned his attention once more to the moving of the boat.
"You wouldn't shoot them—would you?"
"Not if I could help it. I shouldn't want to shoot them; and I won't do it, if they behave themselves. But I must go to work on the boat now."
"Let me help you, Noddy, I am real strong, and I can do a great deal."
"I will tell you when you can help me, Mollie, for I may need a little assistance."
"I don't see how you are going to do this job."
"I will show you in a moment," replied Noddy, as he ran up the main shrouds.
He carried a small hatchet in his belt, with which he detached the starboard fore-brace from the mast. This was a rope, the end of which was tied to the main-mast, and extended through a single sheaf-block at the starboard fore-yard-arm. After passing through this block, the brace returned to the main-mast, passed through another block, and led down upon the deck. There was another rope of the same kind on the port side of the vessel. They were used to swing round the yard, in order to place the sail so that it would draw in the wind.
When Noddy cut it loose, the brace dropped to the deck. It was now simply a rope passing through a single block at the end of the yard. The little engineer made fast one end of the brace to the ring in the bow of the boat. He then unhooked the peak halliards of the fore-sail, and attached them to the ring in the stern of the boat. Now, if he had had the strength, he would have pulled on the yard-arm rope till he dragged the bow out over the water; the stern line being intended merely to steady the boat, if necessary, and keep it from jamming againstthe mast. When he had drawn the bow out as far as he could with the brace, he meant to attach the same rope to the stern, and complete the job.
"That's all very pretty," said Mollie, who had carefully noticed all her companion's proceedings; "but you and I can't hoist the boat up with that rigging."
"I know that, Mollie," replied Noddy, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "I haven't done yet."
"I am afraid you won't make out, Noddy."
"Yes, I shall. Work and win; that's the idea."
"You are working very hard, and I hope you will win."
"Did you know I made an improvement on Miss Bertha's maxim?"
"Indeed! What?"
"He that works shall win."
"That's very encouraging; but it isn't always true."
"It is when you work in the right way," answered Noddy, as he took the end of the yard-arm rope, and, after passing it through a snatch-block, began to wind it around the barrel of the small capstan on the forecastle.
"Perhaps you haven't got the right way."
"If I haven't I shall try again, and keep trying till I do get it," replied Noddy, as he handed Mollie the end of the rope which he had wound four timesround the capstan. "Do you think you can hold this rope and take in the slack?"
"I am afraid there will not be any to take in; but I can hold it, if there is," said she, satirically, but without even a smile.
Noddy inserted one of the capstan bars, and attempted to "walk round;" but his feeble powers were not sufficient to move the boat a single inch. He tightened up the rope, and that was all he could accomplish.
"I was afraid you could not stir it," said Mollie; but her tones were full of sympathy for her companion in his disappointment.
He struggled in vain for a time; but it required a little more engineering to make the machinery move. Taking a "gun-tackle purchase," or "tackle and fall," as it is called on shore, he attached one hook to the extreme end of the capstan bar, and the other to the rail. This added power accomplished the work; and he made the capstan revolve with ease, though the business went on very slowly. He was obliged to shift back the bar four times for every revolution of the barrel. But the boat moved forward, and that was success. He persevered, and skill and labor finally accomplished the difficult task. The boat floated in the water alongside the wreck. He had worked; he had won.
"There, Mollie, what do you think now!" exclaimed the youthful engineer, as he made fast the painter of the boat to a ring in the deck of the schooner.
"You have worked very hard, Noddy, but you have succeeded. You must be very tired."
"I am tired, for I have done a hard day's work."
"You ought to rest now."
"I think I will. We are in no hurry, for we are very comfortable here, and storms don't come very often."
It was late in the afternoon when the work of getting out the boat was finished. Noddy had labored very hard, and he was perfectly willing to rest during the remainder of the day. Mollie made some tea, and they had supper at an early hour. It was a remarkably pleasant day, and the air was as soft and balmy as a poet's dream. Both the young workers were very much fatigued, and they sat upon the deck till dark.
"Where is my father now?" asked Mollie, as she cast a nervous glance towards the beautiful island which they hoped to reach on the following day.
"Where is he?" repeated Noddy, surprised at the question, and not knowing what she meant.
"I mean his remains."
"In his state-room," answered Noddy, very reluctant to have the subject considered.
"Will you do one thing more for me, Noddy?" demanded she, earnestly and impressively.
"Certainly, I will, Mollie."
"It shall be the last thing I shall ask you to do for me."
"Don't say that, for I've always been ready to do everything you wished me to do."
"I know you have, Noddy; and you work so hard that I don't feel like asking you to do any extra labor."
"I will do anything you wish, Mollie. You needn't be afraid to ask me, either. If you knew how much pleasure it gives me to work for you, I'm sure you would keep me busy all the time."
"I don't wish to wear you out, and you may think this is useless work."
"I'm sure I shall not, if you want it done."
"If you knew how sad it makes me feel to think of my poor father lying in the water there, you would understand me," added she, bursting into tears.
"I know what you mean, Mollie, and it shall be done the first thing to-morrow."
"Thank you, Noddy. You are so good and so kind! I hope I shall see Miss Bertha, some time, and tell her what you have done for me," continued she, wiping away her tears.
They retired to the forecastle soon after dark; and when Mollie had said her simple prayer for both of them, they lay down in the bunks, and were soon asleep.
Noddy's first work the next morning was to rig a mast and sail for the long-boat. In this labor he was assisted by Mollie, who sewed diligently on the sail all the forenoon. While she was thus engaged, Noddy, without telling her what he was going to do, went into the cabin, carrying a boat-hook, and, with a feeling of awe amounting almost to superstitious terror, proceeded to fish up the body of Captain McClintock. He knew just where it lay, and had no difficulty in accomplishing the task. He dragged the remains out into the cabin, and floated the corpse in the water to the foot of the ladder. It was an awful duty for him to perform; and when he saw the ghastly, bloated face, he was disposed to flee in terror from the spot.
Noddy was strong for his years, or he could not have placed the body on the locker, out of the reach of the water. He prepared the remains for burial precisely as those of Mr. Watts had been. The mostdifficult part of the task was yet to be performed—to get the corpse on deck, and lower it into the boat. He procured a long box in the hold, from which he removed the merchandise, and found that it would answer the purpose of a coffin. By much hard lifting, and by resorting to various expedients, he placed the remains in the box and nailed down the lid. He felt easier now, for the face of the corpse no longer glared at him.
When he had bent on the sail, and shipped the rudder, he contrived to set Mollie at work in the forecastle, where she could not see what he was doing; for he thought his work must be revolting to her feelings, especially as it would be very clumsily performed. Having put a sling on the box, he rigged a purchase, and hoisted it out of the cabin. Then, with suitable rigging, he lowered it into the boat, placing it across the thwarts, amidships.
"Come, Mollie," said he, in a gentle, subdued tone, at the fore-scuttle.
"What, Noddy?" asked she, impressed by his voice, and by his manner, as she came up from below.
"We will go on shore now."
"To-day?"
"Yes; but we will return. The boat is ready, and I have done what you asked me to do."
"What?"
"Your father."
She was awed by his manner, and did not readily understand what he meant. He pointed to the long box in the boat, and she comprehended the loving labor he had performed. She did not inquire how he had accomplished the task, and did not think of the difficulties which attended it. Noddy did not allude to them.
"I am ready, Noddy; but can you get me the prayer-book?" said she, her eyes filling with tears, as she prepared to perform the pious duty which the exigencies of the occasion required of her.
The book was fortunately on a shelf to which the water had not risen, and he brought it up and gave it to her. He had before placed a pick and shovel, an axe, a couple of boards and some cords in the boat. He helped her to a seat in the stern-sheets, and shoved off. There was hardly a breath of wind, and Noddy sculled the boat towards an opening in the reef, which was of coral, and surrounded the island. The afflicted daughter gazed in silent grief at the box, and did not speak a word till the boat entered a little inlet, which Noddy had chosen as a landing-place.
He stepped on shore, and secured the boat to a bush which grew on the bank. Mollie followed him in silence, and selected a place for the grave. It was at the foot of a cocoa palm. The spot was as beautiful as the heart could desire for such a holypurpose; and Noddy commenced his work. The soil was light and loose, and after much severe labor, he made a grave about three feet deep. It would be impossible for him to lower the box into the grave; and, from one end, he dug out an inclined plane, down which he could roll the corpse to its final resting-place.
It required all his skill, strength, and ingenuity to disembark the box; but this was finally accomplished, with such assistance as the weeping daughter could render. The rude coffin was then moved on rollers to the foot of the tree, and deposited in the grave. Mollie opened the book to the funeral prayer, and handed it to her companion. Severe as the labor he had performed had been, he regarded this as far more trying. He could not refuse, when he saw the poor girl, weeping as though her heart would break, kneel down at the head of the grave. Fortunately he had read this prayer many times since it had been used at the obsequies of Mr. Watts, and it was familiar to him. Awed and impressed by the solemn task imposed upon him, he read the prayer intrembling, husky tones. But he was more earnest and sincere than many who read the same service in Christian lands. It touched his own heart, and again the good Father seemed to be very near to him.
The reading was finished, and the loving girl, not content with what had been done, gathered wild flowers, rich and luxuriant in that sunny clime, andshowered them, as a tribute of affection, on the rough coffin. Noddy filled up the trench first, and then, amid the sobs of the poor child, covered all that remained of her father. With what art he possessed he arranged the green sods, as he had seen them in the graveyard at Whitestone. Mollie covered the spot with flowers, and then seemed loath to leave the grave.
From the beginning, Noddy had trembled lest she should ask to look once more on the face of the departed. He had been horrified at the sight himself, and he knew that the distorted visage would haunt her dreams if she was permitted to gaze upon it; but she did not ask to take that last look. Though she said nothing about it, she seemed to feel, instinctively, that the face was not that she had loved, which had smiled upon her, and which was still present in her remembrance.
"Come, Mollie, it is almost dark, and we must go now," said he, tenderly, when he had waited some time for her.
"I am ready, Noddy; and you cannot tell how much better I feel now that my poor father sleeps in a grave on the land—on the beautiful island!" replied she, as she followed him to the boat. "You have been very kind to do what you have. It has cost you a whole day's labor."
"It is the best day's work I have done, Mollie, ifit makes you feel better," replied Noddy, as he hoisted the sail.
They did not reach the wreck till it was quite dark, for the wind was light. Mollie was more cheerful than she had been since the vessel struck. She had performed a religious duty, which was very consoling to her feelings in her affliction; and Noddy hoped that even her sadness would wear away amid the active employments which would be required of her.
In the morning, Noddy loaded the boat with provisions, and such useful articles as they would need most on the island, and in the middle of the forenoon they again sailed for the land. They entered the little inlet, and moored the boat in a convenient place, for it was decided that they should explore the island before the goods were landed.
"We are real Robinson Crusoes now, Noddy," said Mollie, as they stepped on shore.
"Who's he?"
She told him who Crusoe was, and some of the main features of his residence on the lonely island. She was surprised to learn that he had never read the story.
"But we have everything we can possibly need, while Crusoe had scarcely anything. We have provisions enough in the vessel to last us a year," added she.
"We shall do very well. I don't think we shallhave to stay here long. There are whale ships in all parts of the South Seas, and if they don't come to us, we can go to them, for we have a first-rate boat."
They walked up the hill which rose from the little plain by the sea-side, where they found a small table-land. But it did not take them long to explore the island, for it was hardly a mile in diameter. Portions of it were covered with trees, whose shape and foliage were new and strange to the visitors. No inhabitants dwelt in this little paradise; but the reason was soon apparent to Noddy; for, when Mollie was thirsty, their search for water was unavailing. There was none on the island.
This was an appalling discovery, and Noddy began to consider the situation of the water casks on board the wreck. They returned to the boat, and having selected a suitable spot, the goods were landed, and carefully secured under a sail-cloth brought off for the purpose. For two weeks Noddy labored diligently in bringing off the most serviceable goods from the wreck. He had constructed a tent on shore, and they made their home on the island. For the present there was nothing but hard work, for a storm might come and break up the schooner.
Noddy rigged a series of pulleys, which enabled him to handle the water casks with ease. Other heavy articles were managed in the same way. Farther up the inlet than his first landing-place hefound a tree near the shore, to which he attached his ropes and blocks, to hoist the barrels out of the boat. We are sorry that our space does not permit a minute description of these contrivances, for many of them were very ingenious. The labor was hard, and the progress often very slow; but Noddy enjoyed the fruit of his expedients, and was happy in each new triumph he achieved. He had found a joy in work which did not exist in play.
"Now, Mollie, we must build a house," said he, when he had brought off sufficient supplies from the wreck.
"Do you think you can make a house, Noddy?"
"I know I can."
"Well, I suppose you can. I think you can do anything you try to do."
"I have brought off all the boards I could get out of the wreck, and I am sure I can build a very nice house."
The work was immediately commenced. Near the spot selected for the mansion of the exiles there was a grove of small trees. The wood was light and soft, and Noddy found that he could fell the trees with his sharp hatchet quickly and easily. Four posts, with a crotch in the top of each, were set in the ground, forming the corners of the house. The frame was secured with nails and with ropes. The sides and the roof were then covered with the hibiscus from the grove. Noddy worked like a hero athis task, and Mollie watched him with the most intense interest; for he would not permit her to perform any of the hard labor.
The frame was up, and covered, but the house was like a sieve. It was the intention of the master builder to cover the roof with tough sods, and plaster up the crevices in the sides with mud. But Mollie thought the fore-topsail of the schooner would be better than sods and mud, though it was not half so romantic. They had whole casks of nails, small and large, and the sail was finally chosen, and securely nailed upon the roof and sides. A floor was made of the boards, and the house banked up so as to turn the water away from it when it rained. Two rooms, one for each of the exiles, were partitioned off with sail-cloth. A bunk was made in each, which was supplied with a berth-sack and bed-clothes from the schooner. Besides these two rooms, there was one apartment for general purposes.
This important work occupied three weeks; but it was perfectly luxurious when completed.