"BROKEN UP!"
Early next morning, after their usual matutinal swim, Bob and Dick
accompanied the Captain for a stroll along the beach to the coastguard-
station on the eastern side of the Castle, near to which the ill-fated
_Bembridge Belle_ had been run ashore.
Of course, Rover formed one of the party; carrying, equally as a matter
of course, his young master's towels in his mouth and wagging his fine
bushy tail with even more energy than he generally evinced when
performing that function, in order to express his proud exultation at
the trust reposed in him.
At the coastguard-station they found Hellyer standing by the flagstaff,
with his telescope under his left arm and evidently on duty.
"Not much damage done to her hull yet, sir," said he, touching his hat,
as he thus anticipated the Captain's inquiry. "She were all awash,
though, sir, at high-water this morning!"
"Indeed!" cried Captain Dresser. "Then, that forward bulkhead must have
started when the fore compartment got full."
"No doubt o' that, sir," agreed Hellyer. "Why, the tide covered her
after-deck at Six Bells; and the cushions of the settees and a lot o'
dunnage were floating about in the saloon below and washing through the
ports astern."
"Her fo'c's'le, however, keeps high and dry."
"Aye, now it do, sir," replied Hellyer. "But, not for long!"
"You're right, my man," said the Captain, after having a good squint at
the object of their commiseration. "She has been working already on the
shingle, and her frame has been a good deal knocked about since last
night."
The coastguardsman gave a shrug to his shoulders.
"I expect a tide or two'll settle her hash, sir," he observed, after
thus relieving his pent-up feelings. "With the water making a clean
sweep through her fore and aft every time it rises, the poor thing can't
last long, sir!"
"Aye," said the Captain. "She's bound to go to pieces, now, fast
enough."
"So I've reported to the commander, sir, this very morning," continued
Hellyer; "and, he's sent down word as I'm to keep men stationed along
the shore so as to pick up any wreckage that mebbe washed out on her."
"Quite right," was the Captain's comment on this. "There are a lot of
light-fingered gentry about here, whom it is just as well to be on guard
against. When will it be flood-tide to-night, Hellyer, eh?"
"Nigh upon nine o'clock, sir," answered he. "Just afore the moon
rises."
"Humph!" muttered Captain Dresser, as if cogitating the matter and
speaking his thoughts aloud. "I think I'll come down then. The sea
seems inclined to get up a bit?"
He raised his voice when uttering the last words, as if asking a
question; so, the coastguardsman answered it at once.
"That it do, sir," he said with decision; "and, if the wind freshen
more, as is more'n likely, considerin' it's been backin' all the
mornin', I 'spects it'll be pretty rough by night-time!"
"Ah, well, so I think, too, Hellyer. Good-day to you, my man; I will
come down again this evening when the tide makes. I fancy she'll break
up then. Come on, boys!" sang out the old sailor in a higher key to Bob
and Dick, who had been amusing themselves by trying to walk round the
hull of the stranded steamer, now nearly high and dry on the beach;
although the venturesome fellows had to clamber over all sorts of
obstacles in the way of chain-cables and hawsers and other gear, besides
wading through various pools of water to seaward, before they could
congratulate themselves on effecting their object. "Come on now, my
boys! There's nothing more to see at present; and I've promised Miss
Nell to help her put those actinea we got yesterday at Seaview into her
new aquarium."
"But, you will come down again with us to see the wreck, won't you?"
eagerly asked Bob, running after the Captain, who on giving this
explanation of his desire of not wasting any more time on the beach just
then, had started off already on his way back to the south parade, and
was hobbling off at a fine rate across the common. "I do so want to see
the poor vessel once more before they take her away, Captain!"
"Humph!" grunted out the old sailor as he puffed and panted onward like
a steam-engine, turning the services of his trusty old malacca cane to
good account. "I don't think, my boy, you need have any fear on that
score. The only shape in which she's likely to be taken away from her
present berth will be--in pieces!"
"By Jove, ma'am!" he exclaimed later on, when Mrs Gilmour and Nell met
him at the gate of "the Moorings," "I might just as well board with you
at once. Dined with you on Monday, to lunch Tuesday; at breakfast
yesterday, and again this morning. Why, I'll eat you out of house and
home!"
"Never fear, Captain," said Mrs Gilmour smiling. "Sure, I'll take the
risk of that."
"But your servants, ma'am," he argued, as Nell took away his hat and
cane. "I'm afraid I give them a lot of trouble, and they'll be
springing a mutiny on you."
"I don't know what poor Sarah'll do, sure; you've taised her so!"
replied Mrs Gilmour jokingly. "But, Molly the cook's your friend, I
know. She says you're the only one in the house that properly
appreciates her curries."
"Faith and she turns them out well, ma'am; and you can tell her so, with
my compliments," said the old sailor with much heartiness as he winked
to Nellie. "As for `that good Sarah,' ma'am, I shall have to make my
peace with her by and by, with your permission."
After breakfast, the Captain and Nellie, with the assistance of Bob and
Dick, even "the good Sarah," too, being pressed into the service, set
about preparing the sea-anemones and other specimens they had collected
the previous day for their new home in the aquarium which Mrs Gilmour
had bought for the purpose shortly before.
This aquarium was in appearance somewhat like an inverted dish-cover of
glass--one of the best shapes to be had. This sort being free from
those leaky joints that are the invariable accompaniment of all-square
cisterns; while globular ones have not got sufficient space at the
bottom for rock-work, or those little hiding-places that delight the
hearts of the denizens of the deep when they are free agents and in
their own waters.
Presently, under the active superintendence of the old sailor, the
whilom empty glass receptacle began to assume a more picturesque aspect.
To commence with, a groundwork was constructed of fine white sand and
shells, each of the latter being washed in repeated baths of clear and
fresh sea-water, which had been brought up from the beach in the
morning, before being introduced into the aquarium; where, if success be
desired, cleanliness is as essential to the well-being of its little
tenants as it is deemed to be amongst human beings.
The Captain said something to this effect while making Nellie wash the
different shells, which he then arranged along the sandy bottom, which
was made to slope from the back of the structure down to the centre,
forming a sort of hollow there; and then rising again in front.
"So far, so good," said the Captain, placing some bits of rock in the
background, which, leaning against each other, formed so many small
caverns. "These will do for those crabs, which Master Bob insists on
having, to retreat to when some of the other fry pay them too much
attention."
On the right and left of the aquarium the old sailor dexterously built
up larger pieces of rock-work, intermixed with bits of red seaweed that
grows in the form of a feathery plume, called by naturalists the
"bryopsis plumosa," than which no more graceful marine plant can be
found.
Close to this and serving as a contrast, the Captain placed the green
laver he had made Nell pick up at the last moment when they were leaving
Seaview and running to catch the steamer.
"This chap, styled the `ulva latissima' by the scientific gentlemen who
manufacture such titles, is a capital thermometer," said the Captain on
putting in the laver. "You'll find he'll always rise to the surface
when the weather is bright and sunny; while he sinks back to the bottom,
as I've put him now, on its being damp and overcast."
In the more immediate foreground, a number of little starfish squatted
about on the miniature strand that shelved down from the rocks, arranged
with much care to the general spectacular effect by Nellie, who was most
painstaking in the matter.
To be introduced into this very select marine retreat, the anemones had
to go through similar ablutions to the sand and the shells, as well as
other things, all of them being at the outset cleansed with the greatest
care. When, however, this was done and the actinea put into their
future home, the aquarium blossomed out into a garden of live flowers,
whose tentacles of various colours resembled so many chrysanthemums,
dahlias, and daisies, of the most gorgeous hues ever seen on Nature's
palette!
Of course, the actinea did not make themselves at home in their new
lodgings and disclose their beauties all at once; but, in a few days,
none of them having been hurt by Bob's knife, they seemed to have become
acclimatised, putting out the petals of their flower-like bodies as
freely as when in their native pools at Seaview. So, too, did a
beautiful rose and white dianthus, which Dick had picked up adhering to
an ugly old oyster-shell; and, the even rarer anthea, whose long hanging
filaments were never altogether withdrawn into its body when disturbed,
as was the case with the other sea-anemones, and which were thus a
constant source of alarm to Bob's little crabs; for, it was ever
listlessly waving perilously near these nervous creatures, making them
hurry out of their way in such frantic haste as their lateral
conformation permitted.
It was a long job arranging the aquarium, engrossing the attention of
all engaged and taking up the entire morning; aye, and all midday, too!
"Good gracious me!" exclaimed Mrs Gilmour, coming into the room when
they had just completed the task. "What a long time you've been at it,
to be sure! I believe I could have made an aquarium by now, let alone
fit it up."
"Ah, ma'am, `more haste, worse speed,'" retorted the old sailor. "`Rome
wasn't built in a day,' you know."
"I thought you had enough of the Romans yesterday," said Mrs Gilmour,
giving him this little cut in return for his brace of proverbs. "But,
come, Sarah, you must see about getting luncheon now. I want it ready
as soon as possible. You'll stop, Captain Dresser, I suppose?"
"Oh yes, ma'am, if you'll allow me," he replied with a chuckle. "I know
when I'm well off. You recollect, ma'am, you said just now the cook was
my friend."
"Do you know why I wanted to have lunch especially early to-day?" she
asked him anon, when they were seated at the table. "Can you guess?"
"No, by Jove, I can't!" he snorted out indignantly. "I'm not a
clairvoyant, or whatever else you call those people who pretend to read
other people's thoughts."
"Sure, then, I'll tell you," she said, laughing at his quaint manner,
"I'm going to see Mrs Craddock."
"I'm just as much in the dark as ever," he retorted. "Who the dickens
is the woman, eh?"
Nell saved her aunt the trouble of answering.
"Why, don't you remember the old lady at the station whom Rover tumbled
down and broke her eggs?" she cried out eagerly. "You must recollect,
for you sent her some port wine for her poor daughter, which auntie and
I took the second time we went to see her.--You must remember her!"
"Ah, yes, I remember now," said the Captain, scratching his head
reflectively. "So that's her name, eh--Craddock, Craddock. Where have
I heard it before? By Jove, I've got it now! Why, ma'am, there was a
Craddock who was boatswain of the old _Bucephalus_ on the West Coast."
"What!" cried Mrs Gilmour. "My poor dear Ted's ship?"
"The same, ma'am," he answered. "I recollect the man very well now. He
was a tall, spare, intellectual-looking chap, more like a longshore man
than a sailor. He was delicate, too, suffering from a weak chest; and,
Ted told me, now I come to think of it, that he volunteered for a second
term of service on the African station in order to be in a warm climate.
It didn't do him much good, though, for he died on the commission."
"How strange!" said Mrs Gilmour pensively. "I don't remember poor Ted
writing me anything about it, but I've no doubt the man was our Mrs
Craddock's husband, and, if so, that will make me take an additional
interest in her. Run upstairs, Nell, and get ready at once, my dear.
As soon as you come down we'll start, for I have only got to put on my
bonnet."
"Do you want me to come, too?" faltered the Captain, who, unless
visiting a sick-bed on an errand of mercy, dreaded going to see any one
whom he had been kind to, the old sailor doing all his good deeds, and
they were many, by stealth. Indeed, the very idea of being thanked made
him always inclined to run away, a thing he had never done from an
enemy.
"Well, if you'd rather not, or if you've somewhere else to go, I won't
insist."
"Why, I did promise to go down to the Club," he replied, still speaking
in a half-hesitating way. "I--I--I--"
"I know," said Mrs Gilmour, interrupting him, and looking very
knowing--"you don't want to go to Mrs Craddock's, because you sent her
poor daughter some port wine, and are afraid of being thanked for it--
that's the reason, I know." The Captain blushed.
"I assure you, ma'am," he began timidly to remonstrate against her
conclusion, when suddenly some little recollection gave him renewed
courage. "By Jove, I declare I nearly forgot all about it! I've got to
meet Sponson at the Club to see when that ship is going out for her
trials; I mean the one which I'm going to take Bob on board of."
"Well, be off with you to your Club," she rejoined laughing, giving him
a little push in joke. "Away with you at once!"
"You see, she turns me out," he said humorously to Bob, in a sort of
stage aside. "That's what you might call Irish hospitality."
He hurried out after his insulting remark, but popped in his head again
at the door to make a parting request.
"May I come back to dinner, please?" he asked, with his hands clasped in
mute entreaty also. "I have breakfasted and lunched with you, so I may
just as well make a day of it, and come to dinner."
"Yes, if you're good," she replied. "But why so particularly this
evening? I'm afraid it's a Banian day, and Molly will not have anything
nice for you."
"Never mind that, ma'am. I want to take you all down to see the wreck
at high-water," said he. "It will probably be the last of the old
ship."
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Bob, pitching his hat in the air, and catching it
dexterously again. "Won't that be jolly?"
On Nell now coming downstairs, they proceeded on their respective ways;
the Captain into Portsmouth, and Mrs Gilmour, with Bob and Nellie,
accompanied by Dick carrying a basket, to Mrs Craddock's old-fashioned
cottage, at Fratton--almost in the opposite direction.
Here Mrs Gilmour, after one or two inquiries, discovered, much to her
satisfaction, that the widow and her daughter were the wife and child of
her husband's boatswain, whence ensued much talk between herself and the
old lady, who declared the invalid to be "the very image of poor dear
Craddock!"
While their elders were conversing, Nellie was also having a chat with
the bedridden girl, who, she was glad to see, looked decidedly better
than at the time of her last visit; an improvement doubtless due to the
Captain's old port; and other nourishing things Mrs Gilmour had taken
her.
Bob meanwhile had been overhauling the various curios in the little
parlour, where the invalid was lying, this being the first time he had
been there.
"Oh, auntie," he called out presently, "do look at this Chinese idol
here! It's just like one I saw at the South Kensington Museum, only it
has such funny wooden shoes on."
Mrs Gilmour came across the room to look at the monster figure
squatting down in the corner; but, on Bob's showing her the shoes, she
laughed.
"Those are not Chinese, my boy," she exclaimed, "they are a pair of
wooden sabots from France, such as are worn by the peasants of Brittany
and Normandy."
"You're quite right, my lady," said the widow Craddock, approaching
them. "My son, who was a sailor like his father, found them on board a
French vessel he helped that was in distress in the Channel; so, he
brought them home and stuck them on that there h'image in fun. Lawk,
mum, if them wooden shoes could talk, it's a queer tale they'd tell ye,
fur they was the means, or leastways it wer' through his boarding the
vessel where he found 'em, that my son Jim, which was his name, my lady,
come to give up the sea; although, mind you, he's summat to do with it
still, being a fisherman fur that matter. However, the end of it was
that he marries the French gal as took his fancy when he comed across
them shoes, and went to live at Saint Mailer, as they calls it."
"Saint Malo, I suppose," corrected Mrs Gilmour. "Eh?"
"Yes, my lady, I sed Saint Mailer, didn't I?" replied the old dame, not
perceiving where the delicate distinction lay; and then she went on to
relate in a very roundabout fashion all the incidents connected with her
son's marriage--as well as talking of everything else under the sun, so
it seemed to Bob, who thought it an interminably long story, and was
heartily glad when old Mrs Craddock got to the end of it.
But, little did he think in how short a space of time he would be
brought in contact with that son of hers, Jim Craddock, in the very
strangest manner, and under circumstances that would never have entered
his wildest dreams!
However, he did not know this; and, while the old dame was spinning her
yarn, Bob employed the time by looking at the model of a ship over the
mantelpiece, which brought back to his mind all about the _Bembridge
Belle_, making him feel on tenter-hooks lest they should be late for
dinner, and so be unable to go down afterwards and see the wreck, as the
Captain had arranged.
He need not have been so fidgety, though.
Everything comes to an end in time, as did the old lady's talk; and
then, they were able to start home again, Rover coming in for much
praise from his waiting so patiently for such a lengthy period outside
Mrs Craddock's cottage, without bark or whine betraying his presence
there.
The dinner was not late, much to Bob's joy; and, the Captain being also
punctuality itself, they set out for the beach, just when the dim
shadows of the fading twilight were mingling with those of night.
There was a stiff breeze blowing from the southward and eastward, almost
half a gale, as a sailor would express it, the wind causing the incoming
tide to break on the shore with a low, dull roar, as if the spirit of
the deep felt half inclined to be angry, and yet had not quite made up
his mind!
It was almost dark by the time the little party from "the Moorings"
reached the wreck, and things were beginning to get indistinct a little
distance off; but, soon after their arrival on the spot, the silvery
moon rising at the full, passing through occasional strata of dark cloud
that veiled her light at intervals, illumined the sky with her weird
beams, making it bright as day, but with a ghostly radiance that lent a
mystic spectral effect to all the surroundings.
What a difference the vessel presented to her appearance of the morning!
Then she was high and dry on the shingle, with the retreating tide going
out to sea to flood coasts elsewhere, only indicating that it had not
quite gone yet by a faint splash and ripple on the shore; and, deserted
by the element that should have supported her and did when she moved and
had her being, gliding through the waters "like a thing of life," the
wretched steamer stood up so gaunt and grim that she seemed more than
twice her natural size.
That was in the morning, barely twelve hours ago! But, now, where was
she? The tell-tale light of the moon explained all, without a word
being wanted.
At first no doubt, the breakers!--how aptly named!--had begun their
attack against the poor crippled thing's hull by degrees, little billows
leading the assault that could only leap half-way up the side of the
stranded steamer, falling back with impotent mutterings in a passion of
spray; then, as the tide rose, these were succeeded by bigger waves
rolling in from the eastwards, which, swollen with pride and brimming
with destruction, beat and blustered all about the vessel from cutwater
to sternpost, seeking ingress through the timbers that they might fall
upon her and devour her.
Through it all the poor _Bembridge Belle_ battled bravely, holding her
own as long as she could keep her head above the boisterous billows;
but, when the tide rose yet higher, and the waters flowed through her
fore and aft, her upper deck became submerged, the sea made a clean
breach over her, the waves took her in their rough hands and shook her
so that she trembled, her hull working to and fro in the shingle, the
blustering billows dashed against her, and she began to break up. The
loose upper or hurricane-deck parted. Then the contents of the main
saloon below, of which this deck formed the roof, commenced washing
adrift, the broken water round the deck pitching and tossing about
cushions and chairs, flaps of tables, and all sorts of pieces of
furniture, some of which were cast up ashore near by, and others carried
out by the tide to goodness knows where!
The Captain and Mrs Gilmour, with Bob and Nell, and Dick and Rover,
too, watched this sad ending of the steamer's career with almost as
heavy hearts as if they were her owners. Rover, indeed, took such a
very deep interest in her that he assisted Hellyer and the other
coastguardsmen on duty at the spot by helping them bravely in dragging
out of the clutches of the waves everything that floated near enough
inshore for him to jump at and seize.
"We'd better go home now," said the Captain, when the vessel separated
amidships, her funnel and masts falling over into the water. "There's
nothing more to see now, poor old ship!"
He spoke quite sadly, as if he had lost a friend; and the others, too,
seemed equally affected by the scene, even Bob turning his back on the
beach without a murmur at their going indoors so early, as he would
otherwise have done; this being the young gentleman's usual plaint.
But, if depressed for the moment, on reaching "the Moorings" the
thermometer of their spirits jumped suddenly to fever-heat.
Sarah, "the good Sarah," opened the door, as she usually did; but she
appeared to perform the task on the present occasion with even more than
her usual alacrity, while her face wore a pleased expression that had
not visited it since the composition of that celebrated poem in honour
of her memory! She actually beamed with delight and looked "bursting,
aye, bursting with good news!" as the Captain said afterwards.
"Why, whatever is the matter, Sarah?" asked Mrs Gilmour. "Speak, my
good girl!"
She paid no attention, however, to her mistress.
"Oh, Master Bob--oh, Miss Nell!" she exclaimed. "Who do you think have
come, and is now in the house?"