THE WRECK.
Major Maunsell gave a great gasp of relief when the brig righted.
"Keep tight hold of your rope, Eric," he cried encouragingly. "Please
God, we may reach shore alive yet."
Drenched to the skin and shivering with cold, Eric held tightly on to
the rope with his right hand and to Prince's collar with his left.
Prince had crouched close to the foot of the mast, and the waves swept
by him as though he had been carved in stone.
"All right, sir," Eric replied, as bravely as he could. "It's pretty
hard work, but I'll not let go."
Rearing and plunging amid the froth and foam, the _Francis_ charged at
the second bar, struck full upon it with a force that would have
crushed in the bow of a less sturdy craft, hung there for a few minutes
while the breakers, as if greedy for their prey, swept exultantly over
her, and then, responding to the impulse of another towering wave,
leaped over the bar into the deeper water beyond.
But she could not stand much more of such buffeting, for she was fast
becoming a mere hulk. Both masts had gone by the board at the last
shock, and poor little Eric certainly would have gone overboard with
the main-mast but for his prompt rescue by the major from the
entangling rigging.
"You had a narrow escape that time, Eric," said the major, as he
dragged the boy round to the other side of the mast, where he was in
less danger.
The passage over the bars having thus been effected, the few who were
still left on board the _Francis_ began to cherish hopes of yet
reaching the shore alive.
Between the bars and the main body of the island was a heavy cross-sea,
in which the brig pitched and tossed like a bit of cork. Somewhere
beyond this wild confusion of waters was the surf which broke upon the
beach itself, and in that surf the final struggle would take place.
Whether or not a single one of the soaked, shivering beings clinging to
the deck would survive it, God alone knew. The chances of their escape
were as one in a thousand--and yet they hoped.
There were not many left now. Captain Sterling was gone, and
Lieutenants Mercer and Sutton. Besides the major and Eric, only
Lieutenants Roebuck and Moore of the cabin passengers were still to be
seen. Of the soldiers and crew, almost all had been swept away; but
Captain Reefwell still held to his post upon the quarter-deck by
keeping tight hold to a belaying-pin.
The distance between the bars and the beach was soon crossed, and the
long line of foaming billows became distinct through the driving mist.
"Don't lose your grip on Prince, my boy," called the major to Eric.
"We'll strike in a second, and then--"
But before he could finish the sentence the ship struck the beach with
fearful force, and was instantly buried under a vast mountain of water
that hurled itself upon her as though it had long been waiting for the
chance to destroy her. When the billow had spent its force, the decks
were clear. Not a human form was visible where a moment before more
than a score of men had been clinging for dear life. Hissing and
seething like things of life, and sending their spray and spume high
into the mist-laden air, the merciless breakers bore their victims off
to cast them contemptuously upon the beach. Then, ere they could
scramble ashore, they would be caught up again and carried off by the
recoil of the wave, to be once more dashed back as though they were the
playthings of the water.
The major and Eric were separated in the wild confusion; but Eric was
not parted from Prince. About his brawny neck the mastiff wore a stout
leathern collar, and to this Eric clung with a grip that not even the
awful violence of the breakers could unloose. Rather did it make his
sturdy fingers but close the tighter upon the leathern band.
Into the boiling flood the boy and dog were plunged together, and
bravely they battled to make the shore. The struggle would be a
tremendous one for them, and the issue only too doubtful. The slope of
the beach was very gradual, and there was a long distance between where
the brig struck and the dry land. Wholly blinded and half-choked by
the driving spray, Eric could do nothing to direct his course. But he
could have had no better pilot than the great dog, whose unerring
instinct pointed him straight to the shore.
How long they struggled with the surf Eric could not tell. But his
strength had failed, and his senses were fast leaving him, when his
feet touched something firmer than tossing waves, and presently he and
Prince were lifted up, and then hurled violently upon the sand. Had he
been alone, the recoil of the wave would certainly have carried him
back again into the surge; but the dog dug his big paws into the soft
beach, and forced his way up, dragging his master with him.
Dizzy, bewildered, and faint, Eric staggered to his feet, looked about
him in hope of finding the major near, and then, seeing nobody, fell
forward upon the sand in a dead faint.
How long he lay unconscious upon the beach Eric had no idea; but when
he at length came to himself, he found a big, bushy-bearded man bending
over him with a half-pitying, half-puzzled look, while beside him,
ready for a spring, was faithful Prince, regarding him with a look that
said as plainly as words,--
"Attempt to do my master any harm and I will be at your throat."
But the big man seemed to have no evil intent. He had evidently been
waiting for Eric to gain consciousness, and as soon as the boy opened
his eyes, said in a gruff but not unkind voice,---
"So you're not dead after all, my hearty. More's the pity, maybe. Old
Evil-Eye'll be wanting to make a clean job of it, as usual."
Eric did not at all take in the meaning of the stranger's words; his
senses had not yet fully returned. He felt a terrible pain in his head
and a distressing nausea, and when he tried to get upon his feet he
found the effort too much for him. He fell back with a cry of pain
that made the affectionate mastiff run up to him and gently lick his
face, as though to say,--
"What's the matter, dear master? Can I do anything for you?"
The man then seemed, for the first time, to take notice of the dog, and
putting forth a huge, horny hand, he patted him warily, muttering under
his beard,--
"Sink me straight, but it's a fine beast. I'll have him for my share,
if I have to take the boy along with him."
Perceiving by some subtle instinct the policy of being civil, Prince
permitted himself to be patted by the stranger, and then lay down again
beside him in a manner that betokened, "When wanted, I'm ready."
Eric was eager to hear about Major Maunsell and the others who had been
on board the _Francis_. Were it not for his weakness he would be
running up and down the beach in search of them. But the terrible
struggle with the surf, following upon the long exposure to the storm,
had completely exhausted him, and he was sorely bruised besides.
Turning his face up to the strange man, who seemed to have nothing
further to say on his own account, he asked him anxiously,--
"Where's Major Maunsell? Is he all right?"
Instead of answering, the man looked away from Eric, and there was an
expression on his face that somehow sent a chill of dread to the boy's
heart.
"Please tell me what has happened. Oh, take me to him, won't you?
He's looking after me, you know," he pleaded earnestly, the tears
beginning to well from his eyes.
Still the big man kept silence. Then as Eric pressed him with
entreaty, he suddenly wheeled about and spoke in gruffer tones than he
had so far used,--
"You'd best be still and keep quiet. You'll never see Major Maunsell,
as you call him, or any of the rest of them again, and you might just
as well know it first as last."
At these dreadful words Eric raised himself by a great effort to a
sitting posture, gazed into the man's face as though hoping to find
some sign of his not being in earnest, and then with a cry of frantic
grief flung himself back and buried his face in his hands, while his
whole frame shook with the violence of his sobbing.
The man stood watching him in silence, although his face, hard and
stern as it was, gave evidence of his being moved to sympathy with the
boy. He seemed to be thinking deeply, and to be in much doubt as to
what he should do. He was just about to stoop down and lift Eric up,
when a harsh, grating voice called out,--
"Hallo, Ben! What have you got there?"