THE GALE.
The crew of the cutter knew not what to make of the solitary and
singular passenger they had on board, and whom the Vierlander woman
agreed to attend till they reached Heligoland.
They had often seen ladies on board during runs to the Mediterranean
and elsewhere, who were certainly not quite the _crême de la crême_;
but that was no business of theirs, and now, though Sleath would have
disdained to acknowledge it, and Ellinor knew it not, the presence of
Dewsnap and Ringbolt (though neither of them were very meritorious
characters) proved a species of protection to her, but the sturdy,
honest Vierlander more than all.
Thus her tormentor resolved that he would take her ashore with him in
some place, where she would be more completely at his mercy among
absolute strangers and dependent upon him for existence.
The crew of the yacht had saved her life, so they could scarcely be
accused of abduction in keeping her on board during the bewildering
fog or the blowy weather that succeeded it; but, without making the
slightest effort by the use of a well-manned boat to put her ashore
at Altona, they were now beating against a rough, head wind, and
attempting to get out of the Elbe for sea.
To where and for what purpose? Heligoland could only be touched at
in passing. Were they to haul up for England after that? Such, were
a few of the surmises among the men forward.
Mid-day after the fog lifted saw the _Flying Foam_ under weigh, with
canvas set, the foresail braced sharp up, the jib and fore-and-aft
mainsail set, the boom of the latter well on board, as she was
running close-hauled against a head wind for the mouth of the Elbe,
some eighty miles distant, and making long tacks as the river widened.
Altona and then Blankenese, a tiny fishing village, with its houses
scattered along the green slope among the trees, terraced over each
other, were soon left astern, and the head of the cutter pointed
towards Hamburg and then Stade, with the Prussian flag flying on the
ramparts of Swingerschanze, where the White Horse of Hanover will
never fly again.
The wind was blowing half a gale, and some reefs were taken in the
boom-mainsail when the low batteries of Gluckstadt, on the Danish
side of the river, were in sight, and darkness fell soon after the
last rays of the sun faded out on the spire of Freyburg; and still
the close-hauled cutter, with her lights hung out, laboured on, and
ere long, as the river, with all its treacherous shoals, widened, she
became assailed by impetuous attacks of the sea.
The past day had been dull and hazy, and the half-gale now subsided
almost entirely, but then the cutter rolled heavily, adding to the
misery of the unfortunate Ellinor. Then the wind, blowing from the
level coast, would recover its strength, and, changing its direction,
become furious, while a heavy swell came on, and when dawn stole in
the _Flying Foam_, still close-hauled on the port tack, was standing
over towards Cuxhaven, the shore of which is so low that the only
objects seen against the sky were the flagstaff of a battery and the
guns of the latter mounted _en barbette_.
There the river pilot went on shore, when the cutter, lying on the
next tack, headed off to seaward, steered by Ringbolt himself, close
to the wind, with her head just so near it as to keep the sails full
without shaking them.
The baffling head-wind soon increased to a tempest; the timbers of
the cutter groaned as she strained in the trough of the sea one
moment and rode over a great wave the next, while the water poured in
volumes over her deck, gorging the scuppers and carrying every loose
article to leeward, and ere long the canvas was reduced until none
was left than what was necessary for steering purposes.
All on board, even Dewsnap and Sleath, had donned their 'storm
toggery,' and appeared on deck in oilskin jackets, with sou'-westers
tied under their chins, the baronet making vows, as ever and anon he
clutched a belaying pin, floundered into the loose bight of a rope,
or had to oppose his back to a drenching sea, that if he were once
safe on German or Danish soil, he would tempt the perils of 'the
briny' no more.
All day the cutter, though so beautifully modelled and built, beat
against the wind without making progress, and now one of those
tempestuous gales that so often sweep the North Sea began to spend
its fury on her.
Rufane Ringbolt began to look thoughtful; he had the well sounded;
glanced at the binnacle and aloft ever and anon; put a fresh quid of
tobacco in his cheek, and took a survey of the weather.
A cloud darker than usual and lower down obscured the sky, spreading
over the zenith. A lambent glare of lightning shot through its
darkest or densest part; another and another followed, and like the
roar of artillery the thunder hurtled through the stormy air.
The wind lulled for an instant, permitting the _Flying Foam_ to right
herself from her careen, but again the wind bellowed over the sea,
tearing away the foam and snow-white spoondrift from the wave-crests,
and again the cutter was pressed down to her bearings by its force
and fury.
Pitchy darkness came on, but the vivid lightning flashes were
incessant.
Owing to the obscurity, the difficulty of the watch on deck in
passing ropes to each other became great, and the alternate gleams,
with a deluge of rain, so blinded them that they were scarcely able
to execute an order; so, hoarsely and angrily, Ringbolt summoned on
deck the watch below, and as they were somewhat tardy in obeying, he
resorted, we are sorry to say, to much strong language.
'Show a leg and turn out!' he bellowed down the forecastle hatch,
'tumble up the watch--quick, you infernal chowderheads, you'll find
it no child's play now.'
As this reinforcement, only three or four in number, came 'tumbling
up,' half dressed, the wind suddenly burst--but for a few minutes
only--from an unexpected quarter, taking the cutter aback and
throwing her nearly on her beam-ends.
The man steering was hurled right over the wheel, the rest, with
coils of rope and whatever was loose or had become loosened, were
heaped in a mass of confusion among the lee scuppers. In alarm that
the craft was foundering, Sir Redmond Sleath, forgetting all about
Ellinor, then praying on her knees with arms stretched over her
bed--praying till sickness again overpowered her--sought some Dutch
courage in the steward's pantry by imbibing more than one stiff glass
of brandy.
Ringbolt was the first to gather himself up. With an oath he reached
the wheel; the spokes revolved rapidly in his powerful grasp, and the
cutter was righted in time to save the mast, but still intense
darkness reigned--the lights of Cuxhaven had long since melted into
the sea--with tremendous peals of thunder, while vast masses of water
passed over the buoyant and gallant cutter, and the blinding rain and
the bitter salt spray were mingled together.
The lamp still burned in the binnacle, and the wetted garments and
bronzed visage of Ringbolt shone in its wavering gleam as he grasped
the spokes of the wheel, planted his feet firmly on the deck grating,
and looked from time to time aloft, though he could discern nothing.
Day began to dawn, but the gale still continued. The cutter was in
the Elbe mouth, though no land was in sight; but Ringbolt knew that
the two sandbanks between what is called the Southern and Northern
Elbe lay ahead, but northward of Merwark Island; and, just as this
reflection occurred to him, the mate came aft in the grey dawn, his
face expressive of concern, to report 'the lower mast sprung!'
This startling intelligence proved true, for Ringbolt found the mast
had been thus injured in the gale--a great crack ran obliquely
through it, rendering it quite unsafe for carrying the usual quantity
of sail thereon, and he knew that unless instant precautions were
taken the cutter might speedily become a wreck aloft, tidings which
made the teeth of the selfish Sleath chatter in his head.
With all his errors and backslidings, Ringbolt was equal to the
occasion, and became the English seaman and the officer at once.
'Sprung it is, by heavens!' he exclaimed. 'Take in sail--away aloft
to the cap with the top-maul, out with the fid, stand by the
mast-rope, and lower away the topmast.'
Three active fellows were soon up at the cross-trees. A stroke or
two of the maul knocked out the square bar (with a shoulder at one
end) that supported the weight of the topmast, which quickly slid
down in front of the foremast through its upper and lower cap, and
was at once made fast.
This eased alike the cutter and the mast, but it was necessary to put
her before the wind, and run up the river again, as it would have
been rashness to venture into the North Sea with a crippled mast.
The storm had nearly spent itself, but thunder could still be heard
in the distance between the lulls of the wind.
So the _Flying Foam_ was once more running up the Elbe, to be
repaired at Hamburg, with her topsail-yard down on the cap, her jib
and staysail set, her fore and aft mainsail close reefed, and the
boom so well eased off that its end skipped the waves at times as she
rolled heavily before the wind.
At Cuxhaven another pilot, to take her up the river, came on board
from the yacht, which, by their statutes, the inhabitants of that
place are bound to have always at sea, or near the outermost buoy, to
conduct any vessel requiring assistance; and, aided ere long by a
tug-steamer, the _Flying Foam_, passing Altona in the night, when
dawn came in again, was moored for repair in the outer portion of the
Binnen Hafen, under the shadow of the lofty and wonderfully
picturesque old houses of the Stubbenhuck.
And now, having recovered from his fear and tribulation. Sir Redmond
Sleath began to consider in what way he could delude his luckless
victim ashore.