The wind still continued a brisk gale and the sea very heavy. Yet
overhead it was a glorious night, and as the glass had risen steadily,
I was surprised to find the wild weather holding on so long.
I busied my head with all kinds of schemes to save the ship, and
believed it would be no hard matter to do so if the water did not come
into her more quickly than she was now making it.
Unfortunately, there were only two parts of the ship's hold which we
could get into: namely, right forward in the fore peak, and right aft
down in the lazarette. If she had strained a butt, or started any part
of her planking or outer skin, amidships or anywhere in her bottom
between these two points, there would be no chance of getting at the
leak unless the cargo were slung out of her.
But the leak could not be considered very serious that did not run a
greater depth of water into the ship than under a foot an hour; and
with the Bermudas close at hand and the weather promising fair, I could
still dare to think it possible, despite the hopes and fears which
alternately depressed and elevated me, to bring the vessel to port, all
crippled and under-manned as she was.
These speculations kept me busily thinking until half-past eleven, on
which I bawled to the steward, who got up and called the boatswain and
Cornish, though I only wanted the boatswain. Cornish thought it was
midnight and his turn to take the wheel, so he came aft. I resigned
my post, being anxious to get on the main-deck, where I found the
bo'sun in the act of sounding the well, he having lost some time in
re-lighting the lamp, which had burnt out.
He dropped the rod carefully and found the water thirteen inches
deep,--that was, nine inches high in the pumps.
"Just what I thought," said he; "she's takin' of it at a foot an hour,
no better and no worse."
"Well, we must turn to," I exclaimed. "We mustn't let it rise above a
foot, as every inch will make our work longer and harder."
"If it stops at that, good and well," said the boatswain. "But there's
always a hif in these here sinkin' cases. However, there's time enough
to croak when the worst happens."
He called to the steward, and we all three went to work and pumped
vigorously, and kept the handles grinding and clanking, with now and
again a spell of a couple of minutes' rest between, until the pumps
gave out the throaty sound which told us that the water was exhausted.
Though this proved beyond a doubt that, providing the leak remained as
it was, we should be able to keep the water under, the prospect before
us of having to work the pumps every hour was extremely disheartening;
all four of us required sleep to put us right, and already our bones
were aching with weariness. Yet it was certain that we should be able
to obtain at the very best but brief snatches of rest; and I for one
did not even promise myself so much, for I had strong misgivings as to
the condition of the ship's bottom, and was prepared, at any moment, to
find the water gaining more rapidly upon us than we could pump it out,
though I kept my fears to myself.
I had been on deck now for four hours at one stretch; so, leaving
Cornish at the wheel, I lay down on the steward's mattress in the
cuddy, whilst he seated himself on the bench with his head upon the
cuddy table, and snored in that posture.
But we were all aroused again within the hour by Cornish, who called
to us down the companion, and away we floundered, with our eyes gummed
up with sleep, to the pumps, and wearily worked them like miserable
automatons.
The dawn found me again at the wheel, having been there half an hour.
I scanned the broken desolate horizon in the pale light creeping over
it, but no ship was in sight. The sea, though not nearly so dangerous
as it had been, was terribly sloppy, short, and quick, and tumbled
very often over the ship's sides, making the decks, with the raffle
that encumbered them, look wretched.
I had not had my clothes off me for some days, and the sense of
personal discomfort in no small degree aggravated the profound feeling
of weariness which ached like rheumatism in my body and absolutely
stung in my legs. The skin of my face was hard and dry with long
exposure to the terrible wind and the salt water it had blown and dried
upon it; and though my underclothing was dry, yet it produced all the
sensation of dampness upon my skin, and never in all my life had I
felt so uncomfortable, weary, and spiritless as I did standing at the
wheel when the dawn broke and I looked abroad upon the rugged fields
of water, and found no vessel in sight to inspire me with a moment's
emotion of hope.
I was replaced at the wheel by the boatswain, and took another turn
at the pumps. When this harassing job was ended, I went into the
forecastle, making my way thither with much difficulty.
I had a sacred duty to perform, and now that the daylight was come it
was proper I should go to work.
On entering the forecastle I looked around me on the empty hammocks
swinging from the deck, and finding one that looked new and clean, took
it down and threw the mattress and blankets out of it and folded it up
as a piece of canvas.
I then searched the carpenter's berth for a sail needle, twine, and
palm, which things, together with the hammock, I took aft.
On reaching the cuddy I called Cornish, whose services in this matter I
preferred to the steward's, and bid him follow me into the cabin where
the old man's body lay.
When there, I closed the door and informed him that we should bury
the poor old gentleman when the morning was more advanced, and that I
wished him to help me to sew up the body in the hammock.
God knows I had rather that any man should have undertaken this job
than I; but it was a duty I was bound to perform, and I desired,
for Miss Robertson's sake, that it should be carried out with all
the reverence and tenderness that so rude and simple a burial was
susceptible of, and nothing done to cause the least violence to her
feelings.
We spread the hammock open on the deck, and lifted the body and placed
it on the hammock, and rolled a blanket over it. A very great change
had come over the face of the corpse since death, and I do not think
I should have known it as the kindly, dignified countenance, reverent
with its white hair and beard, that had smiled at me from the bunk and
thanked me for what I had done.
For what I had done!--alas! how mocking was this memory now!--with what
painful cynicism did that lonely face illustrate the power of man over
the great issues of life and death!
I brought the sides of the hammock to meet over the corpse and held
them while Cornish passed the stitches. I then sent him to find me a
big holystone or any pieces of iron, so as to sink the body, and he
brought some pieces of the stone, which I secured in the clues at the
foot of the hammock.
We left the face exposed and raised the body on to the bunk and covered
it over; after which I despatched Cornish for a carpenter's short-stage
I had noticed forward, and which was in use for slinging the men over
the ship's side for scraping or painting her. A grating would have
answered our purpose better, but the hatches were battened down, the
tarpaulins over them, and there was no grating to be got at without
leaving the hatchway exposed.
I dressed this short-stage in the big ensign, and placed it on the
upper bunk ready to be used, and then told Cornish to stand by with the
steward, and went aft and knocked at Miss Robertson's door.
My heart was in my throat, for this mission was even more ungrateful
to me than the sewing up of the body had been, and I was afraid that
I should not be able to address her tenderly enough, and show her how
truly I mourned for and with her.
As I got no answer, I was leaving, wishing her to obtain all the sleep
she could, but when I had gone a few paces she came out and followed
me.
"Did you knock just now, Mr. Royle?" she asked.
I told her yes, but could not immediately summon up courage enough to
tell her why I had knocked.
She looked at me inquiringly, and I began to reproach myself for my
weakness, and still I could not address her; but seeing me glance
towards her father's cabin she understood all on a sudden, and covered
her face with her hands.
"I have left his face uncovered for you to kiss," I said, gently laying
my hand on her arm.
She went at once into his cabin, and I closed the door upon her and
waited outside.
She did not keep me long waiting. I think, brave girl that she was,
even amid all her desolating sorrow, that she knew I would wish the
burial over so that we might address ourselves again to the ship.
"I leave him to you now," she said.
I thought she meant that she would not witness the funeral, and was
glad that she had so resolved, and I accordingly took her hand to lead
her away to her cabin.
"Let me be with you!" she exclaimed. "Indeed, indeed, I am strong
enough to bear it. I should not be happy if I did not know the moment
when he left me, that I might pray to God for him then."
"Be it so," I answered. "I will call you when we are ready."
She left me; and Cornish and the steward and I went into the cabin to
complete the mournful preparations.
I cased the body completely in the hammock, and we then raised it
up and laid it upon the stage, which we had made to answer for a
stretcher, and over it I threw a sheet, so that only the sheet and the
ensign were visible.
This done, I consulted with Cornish as to what part of the deck we
should choose in order to tilt the body overboard. It is generally the
custom to rest the body near the gangway, but the ship was rolling too
heavily to enable us to do this now, and the main-deck was afloat, so
we decided on carrying the body right aft, and thither we transported
it, lodging the foot of the stretcher on the rail abaft the port
quarter-boat.
The boatswain removed his hat when he saw the body, and the others
imitated him.
I went below and told Miss Robertson that all was ready, and took from
among the books belonging to the captain an old thin volume containing
the Office for the Burial of Dead at Sea, printed in very large
type. It was fortunate that I had noticed this slip of a book when
overhauling Captain Coxon's effects, for my own Prayer-Book did not
contain the office, and there was no Church Service among the captain's
books.
I entreated Miss Robertson to reflect before resolving to witness the
burial. I told her that her presence could do no good, and faithfully
assured her that prayers would be read, and the sad little service
conducted as reverently and tenderly as my deep sympathy and the
respect which the others felt for her could dictate.
She only answered that it would comfort her to pray for him and herself
at the moment he was leaving her, and put her hand into mine, and
gently and with tearless eyes, though with a world of sorrow in her
beautiful pale face, asked me to take her on deck.
Such grief was not to be argued with--indeed, I felt it would be cruel
to oppose any fancy, however strange it seemed to me, which might
really solace her.
She started and stopped when she saw the stretcher and the white sheet
and the outline beneath it, and her hand clasped mine tightly; but she
recovered herself and we advanced, and then resolving that she should
not see the body leave the stretcher, I procured a flag and placed it
near the after skylight and said she could kneel there; which she did
with her back turned upon us.
I then whispered Cornish to watch me and take note of the sign I should
give him to tilt the stretcher and to do it quickly; after which I
placed myself near the body and began to read the service.
It was altogether a strange, impressive scene, one that in a picture
would, I am sure, hold the eye for a long time; but in the reality
create an ineffaceable memory.
The insecurity--the peril, I should prefer to say--of our situation,
heightened my own feelings, and made me behold in the corpse we were
about to commit to the deep a sad type and melancholy forerunner of
our own end. The ship, with her broken masts, her streaming decks,
her jib-boom gone, her one sail swollen by the hoarse gale, plunging
and rolling amid the tumultuous seas that foamed around and over her;
the strong man at the wheel, bareheaded, his hair blown about by the
wind, looking downwards with a face full of blunt and honest sorrow,
and his lips moving as they repeated the words I read; the motionless,
kneeling girl; the three of us standing near the corpse; the still,
dead burden on the stretcher, waiting to be launched; the blue sky,
and sun kindling into glory as it soared above the eastern horizon: all
these were details which formed a picture the wildness and strangeness
of which no pen could describe. They are all, as a vision, before me as
I write; but they make me know how poor are words, and eloquence how
weak, when great realities and things which have befallen many men are
to be described.
When I came to that part of the office wherein it is directed that the
body shall be let fall into the sea, my heart beat anxiously, for I
feared that the girl would look around and see what was done.
I gave the sign, and instantly Cornish obeyed, and I thank God that
the sullen splash of the corpse was lost in the roar of a sea bursting
under the ship's counter.
Now that it was gone, the worst was over; and in a short time I brought
the service to an end, omitting many portions which assuredly I had
not skipped had not time been precious to us.
I motioned to Cornish and the steward to carry the stretcher away, and
waited for Miss Robertson to rise; but she remained for some minutes on
her knees, and when she rose, the deck was clear.
She gave me her hand, and smiled softly, though with a heart-broken
expression in her eyes, at the boatswain by way of thanking him for his
sympathy, and I then conducted her below and left her at the door of
the cabin, saying--
"I have no words to tell you how I feel for you. Pray God that those
who are still living may be spared, and be sure that in His own good
time He will comfort you."