CHAPTER SEVEN.

For some time after the boat had shoved off from the ship, old Ready

remained with his arms folded, watching it in silence. Mr Seagrave

stood by him; his heart was too full for utterance, for he imagined that

as the boat increased her distance from the vessel, so did every ray of

hope depart, and that his wife and children, himself, and the old man

who was by his side were doomed to perish. His countenance was that of

a man in utter despair. At last old Ready spoke.

"They think that they will be saved and that we must perish, Mr

Seagrave; they forget that there is a Power above, who will himself

decide that point--a power compared to which the efforts of weak man are

as nought."

"True," replied Mr Seagrave, in a low voice; "but still what chance we

can have on a sinking ship, with so many helpless creatures around us, I

confess I cannot imagine."

"We must do our best, and submit to His will," replied Ready, who then

went aft, and shifted the helm, so as to put the ship again before the

wind.

As the old man had foretold to the seamen before they quitted the

vessel, the gale was now over, and the sea had gone down considerably.

The ship, however, dragged but slowly through the water, and after a

short time Ready lashed the wheel, and went forward. On his return to

the quarter-deck, he found Mr Seagrave had thrown himself down

(apparently in a state of despair) upon the sail on which Captain Osborn

had been laid after his accident.

"Mr Seagrave, do not give way," said Ready; "if I thought our situation

hopeless, I would candidly say so; but there always is hope, even at the

very worst,--and there always ought to be trust in that God without

whose knowledge not a sparrow falls to the ground. But, Mr Seagrave, I

shall speak as a seaman, and tell you what our probabilities are. The

ship is half-full of water, from her seams having opened by the

straining in the gale, and the heavy blows which she received; but, now

that the gale has abated, she has recovered herself very much. I have

sounded the well, and find that she has not made many inches within the

last two hours, and probably, as she closes her seams, will make less.

If, therefore, it pleases God that the fine weather should continue,

there is no fear of the vessel sinking under us for some time; and as we

are now amongst the islands, it is not impossible, nay, it is very

probable, that we may be able to run her ashore, and thus save our

lives. I thought of all this when I refused to go in the boat, and I

thought also, Mr Seagrave, that if you were to have been deserted by me

as well as by all the rest, you would have been unable yourself to take

advantage of any chances which might turn up in your favour, and

therefore I have remained, hoping, under God's providence, to be the

means of assisting you and your family in this sore position. I think

now it would be better that you should go down into the cabin, and with

a cheerful face encourage poor Mrs Seagrave with the change in the

weather, and the hopes of arriving in some place of safety. If she does

not know that the men have quitted the ship, do not tell her; say that

the steward is with the other men, which will be true enough, and, if

possible, leave her in the dark as to what has taken place. Master

William can be trusted, and if you will send him here to me, I will talk

to him."

"I hardly know what to think, Ready, or how sufficiently to thank you

for your self-devotion, if I may so term it, in this exigency. That

your advice is excellent and that I shall follow it, you may be assured;

and, should we be saved from the death which at present stares us in the

face, my gratitude--"

"Do not speak of that, sir; I am an old man with few wants, and whose

life is of little use now. All I wish to feel is, that I am trying to

do my duty in that situation into which it has pleased God to call me.

What can this world offer to one who has roughed it all his life, and

who has neither kith nor kin that he knows of to care about his death?"

Mr Seagrave pressed the hand of Ready, and went down without making any

reply. He found that his wife had been asleep for the last hour, and

was not yet awake. The children were also quiet in their beds. Juno

and William were the only two who were sitting up.

William made a sign to his father that his mother was asleep, and then

said in a whisper, "I did not like to leave the cabin while you were on

deck, but the steward has not been here these two hours: he went to milk

the goat for baby and has not returned. We have had no breakfast, none

of us."

"William, go on deck," replied his father; "Ready wishes to speak to

you."

William went on deck to Ready, who explained to him the position in

which they were placed; he pointed out to him the necessity of his doing

all he could to assist his father and him, and not to alarm his mother

in her precarious state of health. William, who, as it may be expected,

looked very grave, did, however, immediately enter into Ready's views,

and proceeded to do his best. "The steward," said he, "has left with

the other men, and when my mother wakes she will ask why the children

have had no breakfast. What can I do?"

"I think you can milk one of the goats if I show you how, while I go and

get the other things ready; I can leave the deck, for you see the ship

steers herself very nicely;--and, William, I have sounded the well just

before you came up, and I don't think she makes much water; and,"

continued he, looking round him, and up above, "we shall have fine

weather, and a smooth sea before night."

By the united exertions of Ready and William the breakfast was prepared

while Mrs Seagrave still continued in a sound sleep. The motion of the

ship was now very little: she only rolled very slowly from one side to

the other; the sea and wind had gone down, and the sun shone brightly

over their heads; the boat had been out of sight some time, and the ship

did not go through the water faster than three miles an hour, for she

had no other sail upon her than the main-topgallant sail hoisted up on

the stump of the foremast. Ready, who had been some time down in the

cabin, proposed to Mr Seagrave that Juno and all the children should go

on deck. "They cannot be expected to be quiet, sir; and, now that Madam

is in such a sweet sleep, it would be a pity to wake her. After so much

fatigue she may sleep for hours, and the longer the better, for you know

that (in a short time, I trust) she will have to exert herself." Mr

Seagrave agreed to the good sense of this proposal, and went on deck

with Juno and the children, leaving William in the cabin to watch his

mother. Poor Juno was very much astonished when she came up the ladder

and perceived the condition of the vessel, and the absence of the men;

but Mr Seagrave told her what had happened, and cautioned her against

saying a word to Mrs Seagrave. Juno promised that she would not; but

the poor girl perceived the danger of their position, and, as she

pressed little Albert to her bosom, a tear or two rolled down her

cheeks. Even Tommy and Caroline could not help asking where the masts

and sails were, and what had become of Captain Osborn.

"Look there, sir," said Ready, pointing out some floating sea-weed to

Mr Seagrave.

"I perceive it," said Mr Seagrave; "but what then?"

"That by itself would not be quite proof," replied Ready, "but we

sailors have other signs and tokens. Do you see those birds hovering

over the waves?"

"I do."

"Well, sir, those birds never go far from land, that's all: and now,

sir, I'll go down for my quadrant; for, although I cannot tell the

longitude just now, at all events I can find out the latitude we are in,

and then by looking at the chart shall be able to give some kind of

guess whereabout we are, if we see land soon.

"It is nearly noon now," observed Ready, reading off his quadrant, "the

sun rises very slowly. What a happy thing a child is! Look, sir, at

those little creatures playing about, and as merry now, and as unaware

of danger, as if they were at home in their parlour. I often think,

sir, it is a great blessing for a child to be called away early; and

that it is selfish in parents to repine."

"Perhaps it is," replied Mr Seagrave, looking mournfully at his

children.

"It's twelve o'clock, sir. I'll just go down and work the latitude, and

then I'll bring up the chart."

Mr Seagrave remained on deck. He was soon in deep and solemn thought;

nor was it to be wondered at--the ship a wreck and deserted--left alone

on the wide water with his wife and helpless family, with but one to

assist him: had that one deserted as well as the rest, what would have

been his position then? Utter helplessness! And now what had they to

expect? Their greatest hopes were to gain some island, and, if they

succeeded, perhaps a desert island, perhaps an island inhabited by

savages--to be murdered, or to perish miserably of hunger and thirst.

It was not until some time after these reflections had passed through

his mind, that Mr Seagrave could recall himself to a sense of

thankfulness to the Almighty for having hitherto preserved them, or

could say with humility, "O Lord! thy will, not mine, be done." But,

having once succeeded in repressing his murmurs, he then felt that he

had courage and faith to undergo every trial which might be imposed upon

him.

"Here is the chart, sir," said Ready, "and I have drawn a pencil line

through our latitude: you perceive that it passes through this cluster

of islands; and I think we must be among them, or very near. Now I must

put something on for dinner, and then look sharp out for the land. Will

you take a look round, Mr Seagrave, especially a-head and on the bows?"

Ready went down to see what he could procure for dinner, as the seamen,

when they left the ship, had collected almost all which came first to

hand. He soon procured a piece of salt beef and some potatoes, which he

put into the saucepan, and then returned on deck.

Mr Seagrave was forward, looking over the bows, and Ready went there to

him.

"Ready, I think I see something, but I can hardly tell what it is: it

appears to be in the air, and yet it is not clouds. Look there, where I

point my finger."

"You're right, sir," replied Ready, "there is something; it is not the

land which you see, but it is the trees upon the land which are

refracted, as they call it, so as to appear, as you say, as if they were

in the air. That is an island, sir, depend upon it; but I will go down

and get my glass."

"It is the land, Mr Seagrave," said Ready, after examining it with his

glass--"yes, it is so," continued he, musing; "I wish that we had seen

it earlier; and yet we must be thankful."

"Why so, Ready?"

"Only, sir, as the ship forges so slowly through the water, I fear that

we shall not reach it before dark, and I should have wished to have had

daylight to have laid her nicely on it."

"There is very little wind now."

"Well, let us hope that there will be more," replied Ready; "if not, we

must do our best. But I must now go to the helm, for we must steer

right for the island; it would not do to pass it, for, Mr Seagrave,

although the ship does not leak so much as she did, yet I must now tell

you that I do not think that she could be kept more than twenty-four

hours above water. I thought otherwise this morning when I sounded the

well; but when I went down in the hold for the beef, I perceived that we

were in more danger than I had any idea of; however, there is the land,

and every chance of escape; so let us thank the Lord for all his

mercies."

"Amen!" replied Mr Seagrave.

Ready went to the helm and steered a course for the land, which was not

so far distant as he had imagined, for the island was very low: by

degrees the wind freshened up, and they went faster through the water;

and now, the trees, which had appeared as if in the air, joined on to

the land, and they could make out that it was a low coral island covered

with groves of cocoa-nuts. Occasionally Ready gave the helm up to Mr

Seagrave, and went forward to examine. When they were within three or

four miles of it, Ready came back from the forecastle and said, "I think

I see my way pretty clear, sir: you see we are to the windward of the

island, and there is always deep water to the windward of these sort of

isles, and reefs and shoals to leeward; we must, therefore, find some

little cleft in the coral rock to dock her in, as it were, or she may

fall back into deep water after she has taken the ground, for sometimes

these islands run up like a wall, with forty or fifty fathom of water

close to the weather-sides of them; but I see a spot where I think she

may be put on shore with safety. You see those three cocoa-nut trees

close together on the beach? Now, sir, I cannot well see them as I

steer, so do you go forward, and if I am to steer more to the right, put

out your right hand, and if to the left, the same with your left; and

when the ship's head is as it ought to be, then drop the hand which you

have raised."

"I understand, Ready," replied Mr Seagrave; who then went forward and

directed the steering of the vessel as they neared the island. When

they were within half a mile of it, the colour of the water changed,

very much to the satisfaction of Ready, who knew that the weather-side

of the island would not be so steep as was usually the case: still it

was an agitating moment as they ran on to beach. They were now within a

cable's length, and still the ship did not ground; a little nearer, and

there was a grating at her bottom--it was the breaking off of the

coral-trees which grew below like forests under water--again she grated,

and more harshly, then struck, and then again; at last she struck

violently, as the swell lifted her further on, and then remained fast

and quiet. Ready let go the helm to ascertain the position of the ship.

He looked over the stern and around the ship, and found that she was

firmly fixed, fore and aft, upon a bed of coral rocks.

Masterman Ready; Or, The Wreck of the "Pacific" · 第 10 / 73 题