IN WHICH ERNEST LANDS AT CROOKHAVEN, AND PROCEEDS TO LONDON.
WE had a remarkably pleasant and quick passage, and on the eighth day
from New York, while we were at dinner, I heard the captain say to a
lady who sat near him, that we should be off Queenstown the next
morning, at six or seven o'clock. I was sorry that we were to approach
the land by night, for I wanted to see it.
"You can see it if you choose to sit up all night," laughed Mr.
Solomons.
"It will be rather too dark to see anything," I added.
"Not at all; it is about the full of the moon, and it will be as light
as day. You can turn in early, and sleep four or five hours. We shall be
off Crookhaven, where they throw over the despatch bag, about five or
six hours before we stop off Queenstown; that will make it about two in
the morning. If you will retire at eight, it will give you six hours'
sleep; and you can turn in again and finish your nap after you have seen
enough of the shore."
"I think I will do so, sir. What is the despatch bag you speak of?" I
asked.
"The despatches are put into a barrel and thrown overboard off
Crookhaven, where a steamer picks them up. They are taken ashore and
telegraphed to London. The despatches are simply the newspapers, from
which the news agent transmits the important items."
After dinner, when I went on deck, I found the carpenter preparing a
flour barrel for the despatches. A quantity of sand was put in the
bottom to make it stand up straight in the water. A pole was set up in
the barrel, like the mast of a vessel, to the top of which a blue-light
was attached, to be ignited when it was thrown overboard, in order to
enable the despatch steamer to find it readily. In the daytime a red rag
is sometimes attached to it, I was told by the carpenter. The papers
were placed in a water-tight can, and imbedded in the sand in the
barrel.
At sea almost anything creates an excitement, and the preparing the
despatch barrel was witnessed by many persons, among whom I noticed
Dunkswell. I had observed that he listened very attentively to all that
passed between Mr. Solomons and myself at the dinner table. I did not
regard this as very strange, for all on board were deeply interested in
everything which related to the progress of the steamer.
At eight o'clock I turned in, and went to sleep very soon. I had before
made a trade with one of the stewards to call me at two o'clock, and at
this hour he waked me. The night was beautiful; the moon shone brightly
on the silver waters, and the sea was quite smooth. I did not see a
single passenger on the hurricane deck. I made out the outline of some
high hills on the shore, and the glimmer of a couple of distant lights.
Three men were standing ready to throw over the despatch barrel as soon
as the small steamer should appear.
I was a boy then, and had a boy's curiosity to see how everything was
done. The hurricane deck was surrounded by an open railing, on the top
of which I placed myself, where I could see over the stern of the ship.
I was so accustomed to the water, and to high places, that I had no fear
of anything. I put my legs over, and sat facing astern.
"Don't sit there, young man; you'll certainly fall overboard," said the
officer of the deck, who had come aft to see that the barrel was ready
to go over.
"No danger of that," I replied, easily.
"Better get down, and come on board," added a quarter-master.
"I'm an old sailor," I answered, laughing at the caution.
"Steamer on the port bow!" cried some one forward.
"Ready with the barrel!" called the officer.
"All ready, sir!" replied the quarter-master, whose attention was thus
turned away from me.
The barrel was lifted over the rail, near where I sat, and held there
till the order should be given to let it go. The quarter-master had a
match in his hand to light the fireworks. Over on my right I could now
see the little steamer, rising and falling on the long swells of the
placid, moonlit ocean.
"Light up, Murray!" called the officer, when the despatch boat was but a
short distance from the steamer.
The blue-light hissed and flared up when the match was applied, shedding
its livid glare upon the weather-stained faces of the seamen.
"Over with it!" shouted the officer.
It soused into the water, and I leaned forward to observe the splash.
"Stand by the fore-braces!" called the officer; and the seamen rushed
forward to execute the order.
At that moment I heard a step behind me on the deck; but I was too much
absorbed in watching the blue-light on the barrel to heed anything else.
The next instant I found myself spinning through the air, and then
plunging deep down into the bosom of the tranquil sea. I was in my
element now, though it was rather too much element; but I struck out, as
soon as I rose to the surface, for the blue-light. I shouted for help;
but the great steamer seemed to be hard of hearing, and went on her way
as though nothing had happened. I swam as I had never swum before, and
reached the barrel just as the despatch boat stopped her wheels to pick
it up.
"Steamer ahoy!" I shouted
"Who's there?" called a voice from her deck.
"Man overboard!" I replied, puffing from the violence of my exertions.
"Where away?"
"On the barrel."
"I see him!" said one of the hands, as the bow of the boat ran up to the
barrel.
A rope was thrown to me, and I was assisted on board.
"What's the matter? Did you fall overboard from the steamer?" asked a
well-dressed, gentlemanly man, on the deck of the boat.
"Yes, sir; I suppose I did; I don't know exactly how it happened," I
replied, spitting the salt water out of my mouth.
"You are fortunate to fall over just as the despatch boat was
approaching you."
"Probably I shouldn't have fallen overboard if I had not been watching
the barrel so intently."
"What shall we do for you?" asked the gentleman, kindly. "Come into the
cabin, and get your wet clothes off."
The crew of the steamer were busy getting in the barrel, and my new
friend, who was full of sympathy, conducted me to the cabin, where I
divested myself of a portion of my clothing. By this time the despatches
had been secured, and the captain came below. He gave me a flannel shirt
and a pair of trowsers, and sent me to his state-room to put them on. I
was very much alarmed about the safety of the contents of my money-belt;
but, on removing it, I found that the oiled silk, in which the bank
notes and the papers had been enclosed to prevent the perspiration of my
body from injuring them, had protected them in a great measure. A few
drops of water had penetrated through the folds of the silk, but no harm
was done to the documents or the money.
I wrung out the belt and put it on again, after I had wiped myself dry.
Clothing myself in the flannel shirt and pants, both of which were "a
mile too big for me," I returned to the cabin. The captain then carried
all my clothes to the furnace-room to be dried, just as the boat stopped
at Crookhaven to land the despatches.
"I suppose you would like to follow the steamer, young man," said the
gentleman who had been so kind to me.
"Very much, indeed!" I replied, eagerly; for I feared that the accident
would render my mission to England fruitless.
"You are extremely fortunate again," added he. "This steamer is to
proceed to Kinsale with me immediately."
Mr. Carmichael, the gentleman who addressed me, proved to be an agent of
the telegraph company, who had come down to this station to look after
its affairs. His business was finished, and he was in a hurry to reach
London; but it was twenty miles, by a rough and tiresome road, to any
public conveyance, and the steamer had been placed at his disposal. He
told me he should have gone the day before, but the boat was required to
be on the watch for the despatches.
"I hope to reach Kinsale in time for the nine o'clock train to Cork,"
said he. "If we do, you will not be much behind the steamer. Had you any
friends on board?"
"Yes, sir, one gentleman," I replied.
"Of course he will be troubled about you. Perhaps you would like to
telegraph to him."
I was pleased with this suggestion, for I felt that I had one good
friend on board of the ship who would worry about me in the morning,
when my absence was discovered. Knowing that Mr. Solomons intended to
stay at the Washington Hotel in Liverpool, if he had to wait for a
train, and at Morley's in London while in the metropolis, I wrote a
brief despatch, to be forwarded to each, which Mr. Carmichael sent to
the office. The steamer then proceeded on her trip to Kinsale, at three
o'clock.
I was very grateful to Mr. Carmichael and the captain for their kindness
to me, and I did not fail to express my obligations in the strongest
terms. A berth in the cabin was assigned to me, and as the run to
Kinsale would occupy between five and six hours, I turned in to finish
my nap. I was too much excited to sleep, and I could not help thinking
of what had happened to me. I had never done such a thing as to fall
overboard without some help. Though I was not positive, I had a very
strong impression that I had felt something on my back, while watching
the blue-light on the barrel. Whether it had been the swaying of the
signal halyards against me, or the push of a human hand, I was not
certain; but I could not help believing that E. Dunkswell had helped me
to my involuntary bath. I don't know now, but I still believe it.
I had no doubt he had been instructed by Tom Thornton to see Bunyard
before I did. Whether the villain intended to drown me, or only to delay
my arrival in London, I have no means of knowing. Doubtless he intended
to land at Queenstown, and get to London eight or ten hours before the
passengers who proceeded to Liverpool in the steamer. I went to sleep at
last, satisfied that I was again the victim of a conspiracy. But when I
was awakened at half past eight, in Kinsale harbor, I was also satisfied
that the way of the wicked shall not prosper.
My clothes, thoroughly dried, were brought to me, and I dressed myself
in season to land for the train for Cork, where we arrived as soon as
the mails and those of the passengers who landed there. I breakfasted
with Mr. Carmichael at the Royal Victoria, and at twenty minutes of
eleven we took the train for Dublin, where we arrived at half past
three. Though I made diligent search among the passengers, I could not
find E. Dunkswell, and I concluded that he had gone to Liverpool in the
steamer. In the evening I took the train for Kingstown, where I embarked
in the steamer for Holyhead, at which place I again took a train, and at
seven o'clock on Saturday morning was at Morley's, in London, at least
eight hours before my fellow-voyagers could arrive.
After I had breakfasted, I took the Bunyard letter from my money-belt,
and hastened to find Old Jewry.