THE FORTITUDE OF ETHEL.
On the evening succeeding this day, Morley and Mr. Basset spent some
hours with Ethel and Rose in the little cabin, while their friends
kept their anxious watch in the outer one, over the skylight of which
the sail was yet drawn. That which had been hung over the taffrail
was hauled in; but the use it had been put to prevented Captain
Phillips, on this occasion, from chalking on a black board the demand
for succour which he meant to exhibit from the cabin windows, if a
feasible opportunity with a passing sail occurred.
There was but little conversation with the Bassets, so the time
passed in sad glances and sadder sighs; but Ethel seemed to have more
confidence, more fortitude, and more hope for the future than any of
those about her.
Old Nance Folgate lay on her bed, where, from time to time, she
sighed over the peaceful security of her cottage in a green lane at
Acton-Rennel, and groaned heavily at the reflection that she would
never see it any more, or, perhaps, the solid earth again.
Rose sat on a hassock on the cabin-floor, with her pretty head
resting, child-like, on her father's knee, while his hands were
crossed caressingly above it.
Ethel half drooped her head on Morley's shoulder, and so they sat,
buried in thought and anxiety, each for the others rather than
themselves, for "the passion of love and parental affection are
counterparts of each other," says Reid; "and, meeting with a proper
return, are the sources of all domestic felicity, the greatest, next
to that of a good conscience, which this world affords. But its joys
and griefs are fitter to be sung than said."
As Mr. Basset gazed upon his two daughters, and summed up the dangers
which menaced them, how bitterly he repented that he had not remained
in England, even with the wreck of his fortune, and sought
subsistence there in any way, rather than have stooped to the false
pride which made him seek that colonial appointment, and lured him
away from home.
These, and many such ideas, occurred to him when it was too late to
retreat, or reverse the dictates of fate.
Morley's heart swelled with mingled love and sorrow, as he looked on
Ethel's pale and delicate face. Could it be that they were only
united, to be, perhaps, more surely parted again? Surely no pair of
lovers, even in the most highly-spiced "sensational novel," were ever
the victims of adverse fate so much as they.
They were silent; but their hearts understood each other, for their
eyes were the interpreters of a silent language, known to lovers
only. Still, as we have said, amid the horrors of anticipation,
Ethel singularly preserved her presence of mind, and seemed to rise
superior to the present occasion. With one hand clasped in Morley's,
she sat with her Bible open on her knee, and, before they separated
for the night, she read aloud the twenty-first chapter of Revelation,
for religion and regard could soothe or sweeten even their adverse
destiny.
On the fly-leaf of this Bible was written the autograph of her
mother, "Ethel Rose Basset, London," dated on her bridal-day, just
twenty-four years before, so it was one of Ethels most valued relics;
and while she read, her pallor and beauty, her pure profile and
sublime composure, together with the richness and softness of her
sweet English voice, were very touching; and she had listeners
without who bent their heads to hear her, for at the cabin-door were
Bartelot, Morrison, and Heriot, who sat on guard, with old Noah, who,
more reverent than they, doffed his battered tarpaulin in a dark
corner, and, as the words fell from Ethel's lips, he hoped they might
prove prophetic, for sailors generally are deeply impressed by
anything appertaining to religion, though having strong doubts about
the policy of voyaging with a black cat or a parson.
So Ethel read on, and Noah's grizzled head bent lower, as she read:
"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall
be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying; neither shall there be
any more pain, for the former things are passed away.
"He that overcometh shall inherit all things, for I will be his God,
and he shall be my son.
"_But_ the fearful, and unbelieving, the abominable, and murderers,
&c., shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and
brimstone, which is the second death."
At such a time, in such a place, and with a dark doom perhaps hanging
over all, Ethel's sweet low voice thrilled through every heart; so
she continued to inspire them with confidence, and there was almost a
smile upon her father's careworn and anxious face as he kissed her
and Rose, and retiring with Morley, closed the cabin-door, and left
them to repose.
"Good night, Morley--good night, dear papa," was again whispered
through the cabin-door.
"Good night! God bless you both, darlings," said Mr. Basset.
"Sleep if you can, dear girls," added Morley, as he and Mr. Basset
picked their way through the cabin by the light of a candle (which
feebly replaced the lamp that whilom swung from the beams), and
joined the party who were on watch under Captain Phillips, while Tom
Bartelot, with his three--for there were only eight men in all in the
cabin now, opposed to twenty, including Hawkshaw--prepared to sleep
while they could.
They heard the starboard tacks eased off, as the wind--the south-west
monsoon--came more duly aft; and steering by the stars, Pedro, a
skilful mariner, kept the ship he had captured in the course he
wished her to pursue.
So, as the night stole on, a strange quiet reigned on deck--a silence
which seemed almost ominous, when the characters and purpose of those
who held the ship were considered; and they were more numerous now,
since the death of the first mate and the steward.
But the actual reason of the extreme quietness was, that some of the
crew were weary with working at the jury rigging; others had dozed
themselves off to sleep, quite intoxicated, with some cases of
Cliquot which they had started out of the forehold; there was
scarcely any watch on deck save the man at the wheel, who permitted
the ship to yaw fearfully, and to fall away from her course every
moment; while the two Barradas, with Badger and Sharkey, were in the
forecastle, devising means to get possession of the cabin by
stratagem, and to massacre its male occupants, against whom, for
their skilful resistance, these pirates cherished a glow of real
vengeance, as if a wrong had been done them; and if those in the
cabin had but known the state of matters on deck, they might have
recaptured the ship with ease, and closed the fore-scuttle like a
trap on the ruffians below.
Captain Phillips was certain that they could scarcely pass through
the Mozambique Channel, the narrowest part of which is about two
hundred and forty miles wide, and studded with many islands, without
being overhauled by some homeward-bound ship; and though one great
chance of succour had gone for nothing, so assured did he feel of
ultimately getting the mutineers punished, that he kept about his own
person the muster-roll--a document which every shipmaster must keep,
for therein are specified his own name, with the names of all his
ship's company, their birth-places, with their time and place of
entering before the mast, and so forth, together with their
register-tickets--all of which he duly hoped to lay at a future day
before a commissioned officer in Her Majesty's service, or some civil
magistrate, prior to seeing the Barradas and their companions
swinging at the yard-arm; but, unhappily for worthy Captain Phillips
and his friends, all these hopes of retribution seemed very dim and
distant yet.
Slowly the night stole on.
Morley felt, he knew not why, painfully wakeful; and, unlike his
companions in the captain's watch, he had no necessity to pinch his
arms, rub his eyes, or so forth, to keep as much awake as possible.
The cabin looked dreary and desolate by the feeble light of the
candle, which sputtered in the wind that came between the skylight
and the sail which still covered it. The broken furniture, the
splintered panelling, the general air of wreck and ruin that pervaded
it, the deep shadows against which the pale and haggard faces of his
companions, who slept with weapon in hand, were sharply defined,
seemed like a vision or dream altogether, and such he might almost
have deemed it, but for the steady rolling of the ship, which was now
running before the wind; the noise of the water under the counter;
the clatter of the empty champagne bottles which strewed the deck,
and with every roll of the ship flew, clashing and breaking, from
port to starboard; the clank of the rudder in its iron bands, the
whistling hum of the night-wind, that sung monotonously through the
rigging aloft!
He frequently turned his eyes to the dim streak of light that shone
from under the door of the little cabin occupied by the sisters, and
hoped that now, in the oblivion of sleep, they had found repose for a
time; and in imagination he saw their sweet faces hushed upon the
same pillow, with Rose's nestling in Ethel's gentle bosom.
Twice that streak of light seemed to die away in obscurity, and twice
the shadow of a foot seemed to darken it.
Were Rose or Ethel stirring?
He listened, but all remained still there, till suddenly a gasping
sob, a wild, half-stifled cry, and then the sound as of something or
some one falling heavily on the cabin floor, made him leap up as with
a shock of electricity, and spring towards their door.
Either it was fastened within, or his trembling fingers failed in
strength when most he needed it.
Fully a minute elapsed ere he and Tom Bartelot forced open the door,
and they all crowded in, to find the little cabin quite dark.
"A light--a light! for Heaven's sake!" cried Morley.
"Oh, what new horror, what new calamity is this?" added Mr. Basset,
wringing his hands, as Captain Phillips brought the candle from the
tin sconce in the outer cabin.
Half disrobed for the night, as they were never completely undressed
now, Rose Basset lay on the floor on her face in a swoon. Nance
Folgate, beside herself with terror, was coiled up among the blankets
of her berth, speechless or incoherent--otherwise the little cabin
was empty, for _Ethel was no longer there_!
The Bible from which she had been reading overnight lay upon the
floor, crushed and bruised, as if by a heavy foot. Close by it was a
black and gold-coloured Indian shawl, which she had worn over her
shoulders; but no other trace remained in that little cabin of Ethel
Basset, who seemed to have been strangely and mysteriously spirited
out of it.
Morley felt stunned, and felt also how immeasurably all imagination
and anticipation were unequal to portray the horror of such a shock
as this!