"Hartley, did it ever occur to you that we are relatives? My family
name was Hartley until we changed it for Ashurst. Do you know why we
changed it? Because it was asserted that the elder branch of the family
was extinct, although my father and my elder brother--who is now Lord
Arlingford--knew that such is not the case. My brother has no children,
and when I last heard from home he was very ill. In case of his death I
should succeed to the title, though as well aware as he is that I have
no just right to it. There seems to me but little prospect that either
you or I will escape, but I feel that I must unburden my mind. When I
first saw you on board and heard your name, I immediately thought that
you must belong to our family. Upon making further inquiries I was
convinced of it. I hated you, not that you had done anything to offend
me, but because my family had kept you out of your just rights. You
have returned only good for evil. But can you now forgive me for the
great wrong which I have done you?"
"Indeed I can do so most heartily," answered Owen; "but I confess that I
do not understand all you have been telling me, nor how your family can
have injured mine. I know that we had relations of noble birth, and I
should think that my father, had he possessed any claim to the
Arlingford title and estates, would not have failed to assert it."
"He was not aware, perhaps, that several of the intermediate heirs had
died in rapid succession, and that my father had been tempted
successfully to make his claim."
Ashurst as he spoke was evidently becoming weaker and weaker, and
although Owen would gladly have obtained more information from him, yet
he had not the heart to do so. He had very little hope indeed that
Ashurst would recover, but still was unwilling to tell him how ill he
was, lest it should lower his spirits and do harm.
The raft all this time was floating on the calm sea, drifting slowly
down the channel; but as there was not a breath of wind, with only the
pieces of board, it could scarcely be urged through the water.
Mike and Nat sat watching for anything likely to be of use which might
appear on the surface of the water. Owen devoted all his attention to
Ashurst, who was constantly complaining of the pain the wound in his
side caused him, and of the thirst he was enduring.
At last Owen asked him if he thought that he should recover?
"I dare not think about it," answered Ashurst. "I have lived a careless
life. I have done much evil, and no good that I can bring to my
remembrance. I can only now look forward to a few hours of suffering
before I quit the world. I wish that I had perished with the other poor
fellows. I do not know why I was saved, except as a punishment for my
sins."
"No, no, that could not have been," answered Owen. "You were preserved
because God loves you, and still to the last moment offers you
salvation. Turn to Him through Christ. He has said that although your
sins might be as scarlet, they may become as white as snow. God is
faithful and just to forgive us our sins. Believe in His glorious
promises."
"I find it a hard matter to do so," groaned Ashurst, "but I will try."
Owen offered to pray with him, and knelt down by his side. Ashurst's
lips continued to move, but his voice grew weaker and weaker. At length
Langton awoke. No sooner did he cast his eyes on Ashurst than he gave a
look at Owen and whispered, "He is going."
He took his messmate's hand, who returned the pressure he gave, but
gradually the fingers relaxed. Langton and Owen bent over him; ere
another minute had passed he was dead.
"Poor fellow!" said Langton. "Although he was no favourite of mine, I
am truly sorry."
"So am I," said Owen; "and I heartily forgive him for the way in which
he used to treat me. He has been making a strange confession to me, and
has been telling me that, I am the rightful heir to the title and
property his brother at present possesses. I do not think he was
wandering, as he seemed so very certain about the matter; but I should
have been glad if you had been awake to hear him."
"He may or may not have spoken the truth," said Langton; "but before you
can benefit by the information you have received, we must get home. It
seems more than doubtful whether we shall ever reach the shore."
Langton and Owen were unwilling to throw their messmate overboard, for
they had nothing to sink the body.
"We must try and carry it to the shore and give it burial," said
Langton.
Owen was perfectly ready to do this, though when they should reach the
shore was a question.
Hour after hour the calm continued. Often they could scarcely bear the
heat. Langton, who took the command, served out a small piece of melon
at a time, which somewhat alleviated their thirst, while the biscuits--
though wetted by the water, which had got into the cask--satisfied their
hunger.
At length, towards evening, a breeze from the northward sprang up. The
sail was hoisted, and by means of a paddle on either side they managed
to steer the raft.
"We are making nearly two knots an hour," said Owen, as the breeze
freshened. "During the night we shall, I hope, reach the island to the
southward."
"That depends on what currents me encounter, or whether the wind
continues," answered Langton; "I would rather get up to the shore at
daylight when we may choose a place for landing."
The raft required all their attention, for the sail being large it might
in a moment have been upset. Nat was stationed at the halyards, and
Mike at the sheet, while Langton and Owen steered. Darkness came on,
but the breeze continued. They appeared to have made good progress.
The fear was that the wind might increase still more. Langton thought
it prudent to reef the sail. Scarcely had they done so than a squall
came over the water, and sent the raft flying along at a far more rapid
rate than it had hitherto moved. The wind, however, soon again dropped,
and the raft moved on as slowly as before. The night became unusually
dark, the sky was obscured, and it was impossible to ascertain in what
direction the raft was drifting. The party on it could only hope that
it was continuing on the same course as before, still it was possible
that it might be drifting out through either of the channels to the
right or left, and that they might miss the island which they had hoped
to reach. Mike and Nat kept up their spirits.
"If it was not for poor Mr Ashurst I'd be afther singing yer a stave to
prevent you from getting down-hearted," exclaimed Mike, "though it would
not do just now, lest the poor young gintleman might be thinking we were
afther wakin' him."
"No, pray do not sing," said Owen; "it would be more sensible to pray
for assistance, for we must admit it is very little we can do to help
ourselves."
During the night they satisfied their hunger with the biscuits,
reserving the fruit for the time when the hot sun would increase their
thirst. Langton persuaded Owen, who had hitherto not slept, to lie down
and take some rest. He was glad to do this, indeed at times he could
scarcely keep his eyes open. He was awakened by an exclamation from
Mike--
"Arrah! now, how's the land got out there?"
He started up, as did Langton, who had also fallen asleep, and on
looking to the eastward he saw two islands, between which the raft must
have drifted some distance astern, a strong current having carried them
through the passage at a faster rate than they had supposed possible.
It was a bitter disappointment. Unless the wind should come from the
west they could not hope to make either of the islands, as they would,
at all events, have the current against them.
"What do you recommend, Langton?" asked Owen.
"We must wait and see what will next happen," answered Langton. "In
case we should be kept out much longer we must economise our provisions.
I have no other fear for the present, unless the weather should
change."
"We can put our trust in God; we know that He orders everything for the
best," said Owen.
They ate a little more biscuit, which was divided in equal shares. Each
took a small portion of fruit. Owen and Langton were looking towards
Ashurst's body.
"We shall not get in in time to bury it after all," observed Langton;
"we must give him a sailor's grave." It was time, indeed, to do so.
"Before we launch the poor fellow overboard let us see what things he
has about him," said Langton.
He took a ring off Ashurst's finger as he spoke. His watch and several
smaller articles were found in his pockets.
"Here, Hartley, you had better take care of these," he said, "as they
may be of value to you in some way or other, or you can return them to
his nearest kin, whom you are more likely to meet than I am. Come,
Coffey, lend a hand here," continued Langton, and between them, taking
up the body of the young officer, they allowed it to slip overboard.
Greatly to Owen's satisfaction it sank immediately.
"Poor fellow," said Langton again, "I should have been truly thankful
had he lived."
Almost immediately after this a breeze sprang up, but it came off the
land and drove the raft further and further away. They were all silent
for some minutes, their position was becoming truly critical. Langton
at length got up and looked about him.
"I see land away to the west. I believe that we shall reach it much
sooner than we can hope to do that to the eastward if we hoist our sail
and take advantage of the breeze."
To this proposal Owen agreed, and the sail being set the raft glided
rapidly over the water. Still, after going some distance, only the dim
outline of the land towards which they were steering could be
distinguished. All that they knew about it was that it must be one of
the Sooloo Archipelago, and that most of those islands were inhabited by
a savage race addicted to piracy.
These might, however, treat them kindly, though it was more possible
that they would keep them in slavery. As they were running before the
breeze the wind assisted but little to temper the rays of the sun which
beat down on their heads. Their thirst increased, it was with
difficulty that they could refrain from consuming the last remnants of
their fruit. Langton, however, gave out only a very small piece at a
time, which helped to moisten their throats and tongues, though it did
little more. At the rate they were going, even should the breeze
continue, it would take nearly the whole of the day to reach the land.
Since the morning they had, however, undoubtedly neared it.
"We must hope for a bright night," said Owen, "and we shall then be able
to steer by the stars, although we may not see the land."
When the sun went down Langton calculated that they were still nearly
fifteen miles off. By this time their thirst became excessive. They
had a little biscuit remaining, but the last piece of fruit had been
divided among them. They hoped by next morning, at all events, to have
got in close to the land, should the breeze not fail. They scarcely
dared to contemplate their position should they be exposed another day
to the hot sun on the raft without water.
Owen and Langton agreed to keep watch and watch, the former taking Mike
and the latter Nat. For two or three hours after sunset the breeze
continued to blow steadily, and the cool night air greatly restored
their strength. The sky was clear and the stars shone brightly. They
had taken the bearings of the land, and had no fear of not keeping to
their proper course.
It was Owen's watch, the raft had been gliding on briskly, when suddenly
the sail gave a flap against the mast, and then hung down motionless.
"Let go the halyards!" he sang out. Before this could be done the sail
was taken aback. Owen sprang forward to assist Mike in lowering it.
Greatly was he disappointed to find the wind blow directly from the
shore, and all hope of further progress, unless it should again change,
denied them. He called up Langton, who at a glance perceived what had
happened.
"We must get out the paddles and work away during the cool of the
night," he said. "Perhaps some current may be setting towards the shore
and assist us."
The proposal was at once adopted. All night they paddled on until their
arms ached. Though sure that they were on their right course the land
could not be seen. Morning again came, when bitter was their
disappointment to find themselves still a long way from it.
A sigh escaped Langton. "It cannot be helped; it is God's will, we must
submit," he said. "Perhaps a breeze will again spring up." There was
nothing to be done; not a particle of fruit, not a biscuit remained.
Langton did not express his apprehensions to his younger companions, but
the dreadful thought forced itself upon him that they would all perish.
He knew that they could not without water endure another day exposed to
the rays of the sun. Hour after hour passed, the land within five or
six miles of them, and yet without the means of reaching it.
Evidently a current, instead of setting them towards the land, was
sweeping them away from it. In vain they tried to paddle against the
current, they had at length to give up the contest.
Collected around the platform in various attitudes they waited on. Mike
and Nat had thrown themselves down at full length. Owen, unwilling to
succumb, still sat upright, occasionally getting on his feet to look
about, but as the fever in his veins increased he felt his strength
diminish. Langton sat near him with his arms folded, resigned to his
fate; he had done his utmost, he felt he could do no more. The day wore
on. Owen cast his eyes around the horizon in the hopes that some help
would come. Even a Malay proa, manned by pirates, would have been
welcomed. Savage as they might be they would scarcely allow four human
beings to perish thus miserably.
Owen had been sitting for some time without moving. He felt that he
scarcely had strength to rise again.
"I must get another look-out," he said to Langton. He stood up on the
platform, holding by the mast. He had not been there many seconds when
he exclaimed--
"A breeze from the eastward!"
A dark line was seen suddenly advancing over the shining ocean, it
increased in width, the whole surface became rippled with tiny wavelets.
The sail blew out, the raft glided on more rapidly than it had hitherto
done. The comparatively fresh air restored strength to the almost
exhausted occupants of the raft. The shore rose before them, and their
eyes were gladdened by a bright cascade falling over the rocks, and in a
bubbling stream making its way to the ocean. How intensely they longed
to reach the land! A small bay opened out before them, towards which
Langton steered the raft, until at last it grounded on the smooth sandy
beach.
Langton and Owen, who were the strongest, assisted their companions to
land. They could do no more. While Mike and Nat sank down on the
ground, unable to move further, they crawled rather than walked on
towards the waterfall. In a few minutes, though it seemed a long time
to them, the stream came in sight. Even then, with difficulty, they
could reach it. Stretching themselves out, with their hands in the cool
water, they eagerly drank the refreshing fluid, which seemed to put new
life into them. They rose to their feet. They had not forgotten their
companions. How was the water to be carried? They had neither hats nor
shoes. On the beach lay several large shells. They selected two, which
appeared perfectly clean, and filling them with water hurried back to
where they had left Mike and Nat.
The former was making signals, and pointing to the boy, who appeared to
be unconscious. Owen put the water to his lips, and sprinkled his face.
He opened his eyes, and as the water trickled down his throat he began
to revive. In a few minutes he seemed himself again and could sit up.
Their thirst satisfied, they were assailed by the pangs of hunger. As
there was abundance of shell-fish they had no fear of starving, while
the woods they hoped would afford them fruit of some sort. They soon
found on some rocks on one side of the bay an ample supply of
shell-fish. Mike at once began to eat them raw.
"Stay!" exclaimed Langton. "Let us refrain until we have cooked them,
when they are less likely to do us harm."
"But how are we to get a fire?" asked Owen.
"I have a burning glass in my pocket," said Langton.
Dry sticks were soon collected, and some moss, which ignited almost
immediately the glass was held over it. A bright fire was kindled. The
shell-fish were cooked, Langton having selected those which appeared to
him most likely to prove wholesome.
"We are better off here than we were on the sand-bank," observed Mike.
"We escaped from that, and we'll be afther getting away from this before
long."
While he was speaking Owen happened to turn his eyes to the southward.
"A sail! a sail!" he exclaimed.
Just rounding a point of the island which had hitherto hid her from
sight appeared a large ship, the heads of her courses already rising
above the horizon.
"We must make a signal or she may pass us," exclaimed Langton. "The
mast and yard of our raft will serve as a flag."
Mike possessed a coloured handkerchief, which he had hitherto worn round
his waist. Other handkerchiefs were produced. Nat contributed his
shirt, so that a flag of good size was formed.
The fire having been first made up so as to emit a large amount of
smoke, they hastened with their flagstaff to the end of the point, where
it was speedily erected. As no other means of attracting the attention
of those on board could be devised, they sat down, anxiously waiting the
result. With some small line, which they got from the raft, they drew
out the flag so as to present a broad surface to the approaching ship.
Her hull soon rose above the water.
"Thank Heaven! She is a British sloop-of-war, and is sure to keep a
bright look-out," said Langton. "She will pass within a mile of the
island, and cannot fail to see us."
The wind had by this time shifted to the southward. The corvette--for
such she was--came on before it, under easy sail, with the lead going.
The party watched her with intense eagerness. Every moment they feared
that she might haul off the shore, but the water was deep, and she
continued on her course. Already she was abreast of the spot where the
signal was flying.
"She takes no notice of us; she is standing on as before," exclaimed
Owen.
"No, no; see, she is heaving to," cried Langton.
The courses were hauled up, the ship's head was turned off shore, the
main-topsail was backed, and she remained stationary.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Mike. "We are seen." The rest echoed the
cheer. A boat was lowered, and came pulling towards the point. As she
approached, the party on shore unshipped the flagstaff and hurried with
it to the bay to guide her in; she soon reached the beach. Langton
explained to the officer in command in a few words what had occurred.
They were helped on board, and the boat immediately pulled back to the
corvette.
She proved to be the "Kestrel," of 18 guns, Commander Holmes. Directly
the commander heard of the loss of the "Sylvia," he steered for the spot
where the ill-fated vessel had gone down, in the hopes of rescuing any
more of her crew who might have escaped.
Mike and Nat were placed under the doctor's charge, but Langton and
Owen, though still feeling very weak, were anxious to remain on deck
while the corvette was searching for their shipmates.
Owen learned, with satisfaction, that, after her cruise among the
islands, she was at once to return home. He was naturally anxious to
ascertain the truth of the account given him by Reginald Ashurst.
Sometimes he thought the imagination of his dying shipmate might have
been excited, and that the story he had told was without foundation.
Langton, when he talked the matter over, did not give him much
encouragement.
"He was always fond of romancing. Sometimes I do not think he knew
himself whether he was speaking the truth or falsehood," he observed.
"He knew that he was dying, and would scarcely have invented a tale to
deceive me," answered Owen; "but at the same time I am not ambitious,
nor shall I be much disappointed if I find you are right."
A calm at nightfall compelled the corvette to come to an anchor just
inside the island, where blue lights were burned and rockets discharged
to attract the attention of any who had escaped, and might have the
means of reaching her; the boats were also manned and sent off, some to
visit the scene of the disaster and others to search for any rafts or
floating pieces of wreck on which the people might have sought refuge.
The doctor would not allow Langton or Owen to go in the boats, anxious
as they were to ascertain the fate of their shipmates.
The night passed away; the boats had not returned. It was not until
late the next day that they appeared.
"Hurrah! they have a number of people on board; some of the poor fellows
have escaped then!" was uttered by those on the look-out.
On the boat coming alongside, fourteen people were handed up on deck,
all in a weak state, some dreadfully burned and otherwise injured by the
explosion. Among them was Mr Leigh, who, though weak, was but slightly
hurt. Owen was for many reasons rejoiced to see him. By his exertions
a raft had been constructed, on which the survivors had reached the
shore. They were there seized by a party of natives, who were on the
point of carrying them off into captivity when the boats had arrived and
they had been rescued. These, with the four already on board the
corvette, had alone escaped of all the frigate's gallant grew, several
men having died on the wreck. The other incidents of the "Kestrel's"
cruise need not be described. A loud cheer was uttered as she bade
farewell to the Indian seas, and her course was shaped for the Cape on
her way to England.