AN hour later the deck had grown dangerous, even for men. The Queen
drove diagonally through the waves, rolling far to right and to left;
and at each roll a miniature torrent swept aboard her, hammered on her
tightly-fastened doors, and passed, cataract-wise, back into the deep.
Scarcely could the officers, high on the bridge, clinging to stanchions
and shielded by strong sheets of canvas, keep their footing. Overhead
hooted the gale.
It grew dark. To the gloom of the storm had been added the blackness of
the night. Literally, no man could see his hand before his face; even
the white foam that broke upon the decks or against the sides passed
invisibly.
Still, the ship drove on, held relentlessly to her course. For it
was necessary to pass the western line of the weed-bound sea before
turning to the north; and, until this was done, the Queen could not
turn tail to the storm.
Toward morning Captain Bostwick struggled to the chart-house and, for
the twentieth time, bent over the sheet, figuring and measuring. Then,
with careful precision, he punched a dot in the surface and drew a long
breath.
“We are all right now,” he announced. “We can bear away north with
safety. Nothing can harm us, unless----”
He opened the last chart of the Hydrographic Office and noted some
lines drawn in red. His brow grew anxious again and he drew his breath.
“Confound that derelict!” he muttered. “Allowing for drift, she should
be close to this very spot. If we should strike her----”
The sentence was never finished. With a shivering shock like that of a
railroad train in a head-on collision, the Queen stopped dead, hurling
the captain violently over the rail to the deck below.
The first officer was clutching the rope of the siren when the crash
came. The slight support it afforded before it gave way saved him from
following his commander, and at the same time sent a raucous warning
through the ship to close the collision bulkheads.
As he clung desperately to the rail, the Queen rose in the air and came
down with another crash; then went forward over something that grated
and tore at her hull as she passed. But her bows were buried in the
waves, while her screw lashed the air madly.
Had not the involuntary warning of the siren sounded, and had it
not been obeyed instantly, the Queen would have plunged in that
heart-breaking moment to the bottom. As it was, her shrift seemed short.
The force of her impact on the lumber-laden, water-logged derelict had
shattered her bows, and only the forward bulkhead, strained, split,
gaping in a hundred seams where the rivets had been wrenched loose,
kept out the sea. A hurried inspection showed that even that frail
protection would probably not long suffice.
“It’s only an hour to dawn,” gasped the first officer. “If she can last
till then----”
She lasted, but dawn showed a desperate state of affairs. The Queen had
swung round, until her submerged bow pointed to windward and her high
stern, catching the gale, plunged dully northward. The seas, rushing
up from the southeast, broke on the shelving deck like rollers on a
beach, and sent the salt spume writhing up the planks and into the deck
state-rooms.
The engine and all the forward part of the ship were drowned, but
the great dining-saloon and the staircase leading to the social hall
above were still comparatively dry. In the latter and on the deck
just outside of it the passengers were huddled. The captain had
disappeared, licked away by the first tongue of sea that had followed
the collision.
With the earliest streak of light the first officer decided to take to
the boats. Only three remained, and these had already been fitted out
with provisions.
As the crew and passengers filed into the first, Officer Jackson, who
had several times come on deck, only to wander restlessly below again,
once more plunged down into the darkness.
Rapidly yet cautiously he lowered himself down the sloping passageway,
clutching at the jambs of empty state-rooms to keep himself from
sliding down against the bulkhead, on the other side of which the sea
muttered angrily. At last he gained the door he sought, and clung to it
while he fitted a key into the lock.
The electric lights had gone out when the engine stopped, and not a
thing could be seen in the blackness, but a stir within told that the
room was tenanted. Some one was there, staring toward the door.
Jackson lost no time.
“Here you!” he blustered, in a voice into which there crept a quiver
in spite of him. “Last call! The ship’s sinking and they’re taking to
the boats. You gotter decide mighty quick if you’re going to come. Just
gimme your parole and I’ll turn you loose to fight for your life.”
A voice answered promptly:
“I’ll give no parole. I’d a deal sooner drown here than hang on shore.
You can do just as you please about releasing me. It’s a matter of
indifference to me.”
The officer tried to protest.
“I don’t want your death on my shoulders, Mr. Howard,” he muttered.
“Don’t put me to it.”
Howard laughed sardonically.
“What the devil do I care about your shoulders?” he demanded. “Turn
me loose, quick, or get out. Your company isn’t exhilarating, my good
Jackson.”
Both men had raised their voices so as to be heard above the boom of
the storm. As Howard ceased, there came an impact heavier than before,
followed by faint, despairing shrieks.
With an oath, Jackson felt his way to the voice and bent over the berth
in which his prisoner was lying. “Curse you!” he snarled. “For two
cents I’d take you at your word and let you drown. But I can’t. Here!”
The clink of a key and the rattle of metal told that the handcuffs fell
away.
“You’re loose now,” continued the officer. “But, by Heaven, if you try
to escape, I’ll see that you don’t miss the death you say is welcome.
Come on.”
Howard swung his legs over the edge of the berth.
“That’s fair,” he said. “Go ahead. I’ll follow.”
Hastily, Jackson led the way up the slanting passage to the topsy-turvy
stairway, and so to the deck. A single glance about him and he turned
on the other in fury. “Curse you,” he roared, “you’ve drowned us both
with your infernal palavering!”
The decks were deserted; not a human being remained on them. Tossing on
the waves, just visible in the glowing light, were two of the ship’s
boats, crowded with passengers. The nearest was already a hundred yards
away, and rapidly increasing its distance. The guard stared at it
hungrily.
“There goes our last chance!” he muttered.
Howard eyed the tiny craft dispassionately.
“Oh! I don’t know,” he said. “If that boat was your best chance, it was
a slim one. Never mind, Jackson; take comfort from me. Nobody doomed
to hang was ever drowned. I’ll send you home to your wife and babies
yet--I suppose you have a wife and babies; people like you always do.”
“Here! Don’t you take my wife’s name on your lips!”
“Look! I thought so.”
The boat, poised for an instant on the crest of a great wave, suddenly
lunged forward, raced madly down a watery slope, and thrust its nose
deep into an opposite swelling wave. It did not come up. Long did the
two men on the steamer watch, but nothing, living or dead, appeared
amid the heaving waves.
At last Howard’s tense features relaxed.
“Well,” he remarked, carelessly. “That’s a mark to my credit, anyhow.
I’ve saved your life, Jackson. Please see that you do me no discredit
in the ten minutes that you will retain it.”
The other glared at him stupidly.
“Susan didn’t want me to come,” he mumbled. “She said I’d never come
back----”
His voice died away into incoherent murmurs.
Howard looked at the man, and his lip curled contemptuously. He said
nothing, however, but turned in silence toward where the boat had sunk.
The next instant he started and glanced swiftly around him. His eyes
fell on a life-preserver lodged in the broken doorway by the last wave
that had retreated from his feet. He snatched it up and buckled it
round him; then fastened one end of a rope beneath his arms and thrust
the other into the hands of the stupefied officer.
“There! Wake up, man!” he ordered. “Wake up and stand by!”
Jackson stared at him. “Where? What? How?” he mumbled.
“Wake up, man! Don’t you see it’s a woman?”
As he saw the returning intelligence dawn in Jackson’s eyes, Howard
slipped to the toppling brink of the bulwarks and stood watching
for the next heave of the sea. As it came, with a white rag sopping
foolishly on its crest, he waved his hand to the other.
“Give my love to Susan!” he cried, and plunged downward.
Chaos! The sea into which he dived was without form and void. Like a
grain of corn in a popper, he was tossed hither and thither, twisted,
wrenched at--all sense of direction stripped from him.
There was not one chance in a thousand that he would reach the woman;
not one in a million that he could give her the least help if he did
reach her; the very attempt became preposterous the moment he touched
the water. Only blind chance could avail.
The incredible happened. His arm, striking out, caught the girl fairly
round the waist and fastened there. He did not try to get back to the
ship; he made no reasoned effort at all; reason was impossible in that
turmoil.
He struggled, no doubt, but the struggle was unconscious--a mere
automatic battle for life. But he clung to the woman, gasping, with
oblivion pressing hard upon his reeling brain.
Something seemed to grasp him around the waist and drag him backward,
and unconsciously he tightened his arm on the waist he held, meeting
the wrench as the sea withdrew its support.
Crash! Something had struck him cruelly, but struck realization back
into his brain. Before he could act, the sea swelled around him again;
but when it withdrew once more, he knew what had happened. Jackson was
dragging him back to the wreck, and he had struck against its side or
on its submerged deck.
It was the deck! By favor of Providence it was the deck! Aided by the
drag of the rope, the last wave washed Howard and his prize almost to
the feet of the police officer, who braced himself to withstand the
backtow as the water retreated; then reached down and dragged both up
to momentary safety.
Howard opened his eyes for one instant.
“Didn’t I tell you I would have a drier death on shore?” he gasped
before unconsciousness claimed him.