THE LOST STEAMER.
The first document which Derrick produced and spread upon the table
was the Père Latour's certificate of the marriage; the second was an
undoubted will, duly stamped and signed, wherein the testator,
Richard Pencarrow Trevelyan, Lord Lamorna, of Rhoscadzhel, in the
Duchy of Cornwall, left all he possessed to Constance Devereaux, his
wife, for the term of her life, and after her death to their two
children absolutely.
The cunning and avaricious eyes of Sharkley seemed to devour the
documents, and his trembling fingers indicated the eagerness of his
heart to possess them, as he saw that beyond all uncertainty they
were genuine, authentic, and of vast legal value to the son and
daughter of his late unhappy client; nor were they of less worth to
their opponent, if their existence could be terminated, _ere it was
known_. Here was a means of triumph over the Messrs. Gorbelly and
Culverhole--the solicitors of Downie Trevelyan, the present titular
lord--who, as more respectable practitioners than Sharkley, had ever
treated him with undisguised contempt.
Frequently his long lean fingers approached the papers, which were
faded and yellow in aspect, having been stained by saltwater in the
shipwreck; but Derrick Braddon, aware of the man he had to deal with,
had taken from his pocket a large clasp knife, with which he usually
cut his tobacco, and which had been of much and varied service to him
in his recent wanderings; and with the point of this suggestive
instrument he indicated the dates and so forth, while its production
seemed to hint that any attempt to appropriate either the certificate
or the will might be attended by an unpleasant sequel; for old as he
was, Braddon would have given a stronger antagonist than the village
lawyer "a Cornish hug," that might have been little to his taste.
When Sharkley had perused the papers which he was not permitted to
touch, Braddon deliberately replaced them in their case and carefully
stowed the latter in his inner pocket, the cat-like eyes of the
attorney watching all his motions, while a kind of sigh seemed to
escape him. He drained his gin and water to the last drop and then
said,--
"No doubt, Mr. Braddon, these papers are of great value; but what do
you mean to do with them?"
"Keep them for young Denzil. Once they are safe in his hands, he'll
march in and take possession with colours flying."
Sharkley smiled at the old soldier's idea of the mode of succeeding
to a title and heritage; but, as the storm had not yet passed away,
and no "return fly" had yet been announced, he resolved to improve
the occasion, by worming himself into Derrick's confidence, and
drawing all the information from him that he could win.
"But if your master was drowned, as you say he was, how came these
important documents into your possession?"
"Drowned as _I say_ he was! Do you doubt me?"
"Nay, nay; you misunderstand."
"Well, you shall hear all about it. Have another drain of gin and I
shall have one more pot of ale; I have not tasted such good old
English tipple for many a day."
Then, after a little pause, Derrick began his narrative, which we
shall give in our own words rather than his. The accounts of the
wreck which Constance had read in the public prints, were scarcely a
correct version of the catastrophe in all its details.
The ocean steamer _Admiral_ had not been more than four days' sail
from the mouth of the River St. Lawrence, when her engines broke
down; thus she was forced to continue the voyage under canvas, and
being but ill calculated for sailing purposes, while endeavouring to
beat against a continual head wind, she was driven so far south out
of her direct course, as to be somewhere within seventy miles of
Corvo, the most northern isle of the Azores, when she should have
been breasting the waves of the British Channel.
When she had been three weeks at sea, the wind one night became a
gale, and from a gale it freshened to a regular tempest; and most of
her crew, not being seamen, but such as are usually bred in coasting
steamers, handled her extremely ill. Much of her canvas was split,
rent to ribbons, or blown out of the bolt ropes; and thus, by the
time three bells in the middle watch were struck, the wind was
howling through her bare rigging, for there was nothing left upon her
save a staysail and trysail, by the aid of which four men at the
wheel strove to steer her under direction of the quarter-master.
Apprehending no danger, Richard Trevelyan was quietly seated in the
cabin, endeavouring to write up his diary, by the light of a single
lamp, which swung madly to and fro from a beam overhead; his desk was
open, but was secured to the table, for every loose thing in the
cabin was flying from port to starboard and back again, as the vessel
lurched and rolled. Derrick was standing, rather swaying to and fro
behind his master's chair, as they conferred together concerning the
exact date of some incident which he wished to record, and while
conversing they heard a crash on deck, as the staysail sheet snapped
in the fierce gust; and as the ship broached to, that is, was taken
aback on the weather side, the seas flew in wild foam, and in fierce
succession over her, from stem to stern. Then was heard the voice of
the mate in charge of the watch, shouting to, "haul down the
staysail, and bend on the sheet anew."
Ere this could be done, a wave some twenty feet in height took the
crippled steamer right on her broadside, and tore away the boats, the
entire bulwark, four signal guns, and half the crew, washing by a
mighty volume of water, and at one fell sweep, all and everything
overboard into the black and seething sea!
With an astounding crash, the funnel and mizenmast went next by the
board; but the lower portion of the mainmast remained, with all its
top-hamper hanging about it. The last lamp in the cabin went out;
but not before Richard Trevelyan, who never lost his presence of
mind, had secured the two documents in question, placed them in an
inner breast-pocket of his coat, and calling on Derrick to follow
him, went on deck, where a terrible and unexpected scene presented
itself, in the aspect of the ship, changed now to a total wreck.
They had barely staggered along the slippery main-deck, so far as
where the stump of the mainmast yet held on, when another wave, its
mighty head cresting and curling with foam, that seemed all the
whiter amid the blackness of the night, burst over the doomed ship.
"Hold on, my lord," cried Derrick, "for the love of Heaven, hold on!"
"Yes--and for the love of my poor wife," added Richard, as they
simultaneously grasped some of the belaying pins at the base of the
mast, and as soon as the mountain of bitter water passed away to
leeward leaving them drenched and half-blinded, a more fearful sight
was visible by the pale light of the stars.
The entire poop, from which they had just issued, had been torn away
from the ship; the wheel, with its four men, the skylights, the upper
deck, and all that was in the cabin below, were gone, and all was
ruin, and all was silence there save the seething of the angry sea.
Some twenty of the passengers and crew were still clustered on the
forecastle, seeking shelter between the bunks and windlass; but water
was pouring fast into the ship, and as a portion of her deck was
beginning to break up, Richard, who was powerful and brave as most
men, grasped his faithful servant by the arm, and was assisting him
towards this temporary and comfortless bourne, when some of the
planking parted below him, and he was suddenly enclosed nearly to the
waist, in the jarring woodwork. Then a double shriek escaped him,
for both his thighs were broken, and he was so peculiarly jammed
among the wreckage, that at that particular time no human power could
either aid or save him.
Derrick could only remain near him, helpless, bewildered, and
uttering exclamations of commiseration, which mingled with Richard's
groans, the hiss of the sea, the roaring of the wind, and the piteous
ejaculations of the passengers.
"Oh, Derrick, what a wretched thing I am now," said he, through his
clenched teeth, "and what a proud, hale man I was some five minutes
ago! Well, well, a six pound shot might have done as much for me
elsewhere; but Derrick, God and myself alone know the agony--the
awful agony I am enduring. Would to Heaven it were all over--even
though I shall never see _them_ more--Constance--Constance, and the
children!" he added, while nearly gnawing through his nether lip, in
the intensity of his pain and despair.
He made more than one frantic effort to wrench his crushed limbs, and
torn and bleeding flesh out of the sudden and terrible trap into
which he had fallen; but all such attempts were hopeless and futile,
and he would pause exhausted and as pale as a corpse, with the
perspiration wrung by agony, mingling with the spray on his temples.
That he must soon be drowned, or die in an ecstasy of suffering was
but too evident.
"I have often thought to die, Derrick," said he, in a husky voice,
"and knew that the day and hour must come to me as they come to all;
but I never thought to die thus. Blessed be God, that she knows
nothing of it! Do you hear me, Braddon, my old comrade?"
And the servant wept as his master wrung his hand, and in weaker
accents urged him to take possession of the two documents which were
of such value to the family, and to preserve them even as he would
his own life; and with tears in his eyes--tears that mingled with the
wind-swept foam--Derrick promised to do so; and every minute Richard
Trevelyan's once powerful and athletic frame grew weaker and weaker.
Some of the arteries of his limbs had been torn as well as the
ligaments, and he was evidently bleeding to death in his half-crushed
situation.
Amid their own sufferings and danger, his dying words and prayers
were unheeded by the pale and drenched wretches who clung close by to
the windlass and forecastle ring-bolts; but terribly his sinking
accents fell on the tympanum of Derrick's listening ear. His whole
soul seemed as if filled by the idea of those he should never see
again.
His last utterances were all about Sybil, Denzil, and their mother;
he imagined himself to see them, to be speaking to them, to hear
their voices, and to feel their kisses on his sodden face, over which
the sea washed ever and anon; and thus, happy it might be in his
delirium, he passed away, and when more of the wreck broke up, the
body dropped quietly into the sea, and was swept away in the trough
to leeward, just as the grey dawn began to steal in, and the wind and
waves to go down together, as if their object had been accomplished
in the destruction of the ill-fated ship.
A boat that was not stove in, but was still dragged alongside by the
fall-tackle, was now properly lowered. Ten men who survived got on
board of her and shoved off from the wreck. But Derrick, who, in
grief and weakness, had dropped asleep in the forecastle bunks, was
unseen or forgotten by them in the hurry and selfishness of the
moment; thus when he awoke, the sun was nearly setting, and he was
alone upon the sea, for the boat had been picked up by one of Her
Majesty's steam vessels, the captain of which duly reported the
circumstance, with the loss of the _Admiral_, to Lloyds and the
owners in London.
Derrick's reflections on finding himself alone in the sinking ship
were far from soothing. He had death before him, in its most
terrible form, by slow starvation; and all the horrors he had read or
heard of in shipwrecked men occurred to him with vivid minutiæ most
painful to endure. But he prayed quite as much that he might be
spared to fulfil the wishes of his master as for the prolongation of
his own humble life, and the honest fellow's supplications were not
uttered in vain, for ere the twilight came, a vessel bound for
Tasmania took him off the wreck; and now, after long, perilous, and
penniless wanderings, he found himself once more safe in old England.
Sharkley, who had listened to all this narrative with deep
interest--not that he cared a jot about the escapes, the sufferings,
or the perseverance of the narrator, but because it formed a
necessary sequence to the other portions of his story, which related
to Montreal--now said,--
"After all you have undergone, you will, I hope, be careful to whom
you show, and with whom you trust, papers, upon the production of
which, in a proper and legal manner, so much depends."
"Make yourself perfectly easy on that head," replied Braddon, winking
knowingly, as he refilled his pipe.
"Lord Lamorna would give a good round sum, I doubt not--a good round
sum, my dear sir, to possess them."
"I am neither a dear sir, nor a cheap one," growled Derrick; "if you
mean by Lord Lamorna Master Denzil, the papers are his already by
right; if you mean Downie Trevelyan, they sha'n't be his, even if he
piled up money as high as Bron Welli. Ah--he had ever an eye to the
main chance."
"And haven't we all?"
"In some ways, perhaps, more or less; but harkee, comrade, no more
hints like that you gave just now. I had a kind, good master, and
was his faithful servant. I am an old soldier, and know what honour
is, though my coat be a tattered one."
"Yet, if I have heard aright, you were not always a soldier," sneered
Sharkley, who despised monetary scruples that were beyond his
comprehension.
"No," replied Braddon, his wrinkled cheek flushing with anger as he
spoke; "I was in my youth a smuggler, and here in Cornwall ain't
ashamed to say so. I know well the Isles of Scilly, and every creek
and cranny in those whose inhabitants are only gulls and rabbits; for
in them, as in the Piper's Hole at Tresco, and in many a place hereby
known only to myself now, have I at the risk of my life by steel and
lead, and storm, run the kegs of Cognac and the negrohead, that never
paid duty to the Crown. But what of that; I am not a smuggler now,
though I had to bolt for being one! I suppose few will dispute that
you have been a lawyer in heart since you first saw the light, or
learned to steal your school-mates' apples and nuts, till able to aim
at bigger prizes--eh?"
"Come, don't let us quarrel after so pleasant an evening, Mr.
Braddon," urged Sharkley, deprecatingly.
"I ain't _Mister_ Braddon," said the old soldier, doggedly; "I am
only plain Derrick Braddon, once full private, and No. 2006 in
Captain Trevelyan's company of the Old Cornish; and now, I think, I
shall turn in."
Sharkley succeeded in talking the veteran into a better humour again,
to throw him off his guard; but his eyes never wandered from that
left breast pocket where the outline of the tin case was distinctly
visible, impressed on the worn-out, faded cloth.
As the storm continued, he remained all night at the Trevanion Arms;
and, after assuring himself that Derrick Braddon had no intention of
leaving the neighbourhood in a hurry, an early hour next morning saw
him spinning along the Cornwall and Devon Railway, in a corner of a
third-class carriage, _en route_ to Rhoscadzhel.
END OF VOL. II.
BRADBURY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.