PICRATE OF POTASH ON BOARD
OCTOBER 20 and 21.--The Chancellor is now crowded with all the canvas
she can carry, and at times her topmasts threaten to snap with the
pressure. But Curtis is ever on the alert; he never leaves his post
beside the man at the helm, and without compromising the safety of the
vessel, he contrives, by tacking to the breeze, to urge her on at her
utmost speed.
All day long on the 20th the passengers were assembled on the poop.
Evidently they found the heat of the cabins painfully oppressive, and
most of them lay stretched upon benches and quietly enjoyed the gentle
rolling of the vessel. The increasing heat of the deck did not reveal
itself to their well-shod feet, and the constant scouring of the boards
did not excite any suspicion in their torpid minds. M. Letourneur, it
is true, did express his surprise that the crew of an ordinary merchant
vessel should be distinguished by such extraordinary cleanliness; but
as I replied to him in a very casual tone, he passed no further remark.
I could not help regretting that I had given Curtis my pledge of
silence, and longed intensely to communicate the melancholy secret to
the energetic Frenchman; for at times when I reflect upon the
eight-and-twenty victims who may probably, only too soon, be a prey to
the relentless flames, my heart seems ready to burst.
The important consultation between captain, mate, lieutenant and
boatswain has taken place. Curtis has confided the result to me. He
says that Huntly, the captain, is completely demoralized; he has lost
all power and energy; and practically leaves the command of the ship to
him. It is now certain the fire is beyond control, and that sooner or
later it will burst out in full violence. The temperature of the crew's
quarters has already become almost unbearable. One solitary hope
remains; it is that we may reach the shore before the final catastrophe
occurs. The Lesser Antilles are the nearest land; and although they are
some five or six hundred miles away, if the wind remains northeast
there is yet a chance of reaching them in time.
Carrying royals and studding-sails, the Chancellor during the last
four-and-twenty hours has held a steady course. M. Letourneur is the
only one of all the passengers who has remarked the change of tack;
Curtis, however, has set all speculation on his part at rest by telling
him that he wanted to get ahead of the wind, and that he was tacking to
the west to catch a favorable current.
To-day, the 21st, all has gone on as usual; and as far as the
observation of the passengers has reached, the ordinary routine has
been undisturbed. Curtis indulges the hope even yet that by excluding
the air the fire may be stifled before it ignites the general cargo; he
has hermetically closed every accessible aperture, and has even taken
the precaution of plugging the orifices of the pumps, under the
impression that their suction-tubes, running as they do to the bottom
of the hold, may possibly be channels for conveying some molecules of
air. Altogether, he considers it a good sign that the combustion has
not betrayed itself by some external issue of smoke.
The day would have passed without any incident worth recording, if I
had not chanced to overhear a fragment of a conversation which
demonstrated that our situation, hitherto precarious enough, had now
become most appalling.
As I was sitting on the poop, two of my fellow-passengers, Falsten, the
engineer, and Ruby, the merchant, whom I had observed to be often in
company, were engaged in conversation almost close to me. What they
said was evidently not intended for my hearing, but my attention was
directed toward them by some very emphatic gestures of dissatisfaction
on the part of Falsten, and I could not forbear listening to what
followed.
"Preposterous! shameful!" exclaimed Falsten; "nothing could be more
imprudent."
"Pooh! pooh!" replied Ruby, "it's all right; it is not the first time I
have done it."
"But don't you know that any shock at any time might cause an
explosion?"
"Oh, it's all properly secured," said Ruby, "tight enough; I have no
fears on that score, Mr. Falsten."
"But why," asked Falsten, "did you not inform the captain?"
"Just because if I had informed him, he would not have taken the case
on board."
The wind dropped for a few seconds; and for a brief interval I could
not catch what passed; but I could see that Falsten continued to
remonstrate, while Ruby answered by shrugging his shoulders. At length
I heard Falsten say.
"Well, at any rate, the captain must be informed of this, and the
package shall be thrown overboard. I don't want to be blown up."
I started. To what could the engineer be alluding? Evidently he had not
the remotest suspicion that the cargo was already on fire. In another
moment the words "picrate of potash" brought me to my feet, and with an
involuntary impulse I rushed up to Ruby, and seized him by the shoulder.
"Is there picrate of potash on board?" I almost shrieked.
"Yes," said Falsten, "a case containing thirty pounds."
"Where is it?" I cried.
"Down in the hold, with the cargo."