CHAPTER XLIII

OWEN'S DEATH

JANUARY 11 to 14.--Owen's convulsions returned with increased violence,

and in the course of the night he expired in terrible agony. His body

was thrown overboard almost directly, it had decomposed so rapidly that

the flesh had not even consistency enough for any fragments of it to be

reserved for the boatswain to use to bait his lines. A plague the man

had been to us in his life; in his death he was now of no service!

And now, perhaps still more than ever, did the horror of our situation

stare us in the face. There was no doubt that the poisoned barrel had

at some time or other contained copperas; but what strange fatality had

converted it into a water cask, or what fatality, stranger still, had

caused it to be brought on board the raft, was a problem that none

could solve. Little, however, did it matter now; the fact was

evident--the barrel was poisoned, and of water we had not a drop.

One and all, we fell into the gloomiest silence. We were too irritable

to bear the sound of each other's voices; and it did not require a

word--a mere look or gesture was enough--to provoke us to anger that

was little short of madness. How it was that we did not all become

raving maniacs, I cannot tell.

Throughout the 12th no drain of moisture crossed our lips, and not a

cloud arose to warrant the expectation of a passing shower; in the

shade, if shade it might be called, the thermometer would have

registered at least 100 deg., and perhaps considerably more.

No change next day. The salt water began to chafe my legs, but although

the smarting was at times severe, it was an inconvenience to which I

gave little heed; others who had suffered from the same trouble had

become no worse. Oh! if this water that surrounds us could be reduced

to vapor or to ice! its particles of salt extracted, it would be

available for drink. But no! we have no appliances, and we must suffer

on.

At the risk of being devoured by the sharks, the boatswain and two

sailors took a morning bath, and as their plunge seemed to freshen

them, I and three of my companions resolved to follow their example. We

had never learned to swim, and had to be fastened to the end of a rope

and lowered into the water, while Curtis, during the half hour of our

bath, kept a sharp lookout to give warning of any danger from

approaching sharks. No recommendation, however, on our part, nor any

representation of the benefit we felt we had derived, could induce Miss

Herbey to allay her sufferings in the same way.

At about eleven o'clock, the captain came up to me, and whispered in my

ear:

"Don't say a word, Mr. Kazallon; I do not want to raise false hopes,

but I think I see a ship."

It was as well that the captain had warned me; otherwise, I should have

raised an involuntary shout of joy; as it was I had the greatest

difficulty in restraining my expressions of delight.

"Look behind to larboard," he continued in an undertone.

Affecting an indifference which I was far from feeling, I cast an

anxious glance to that quarter of the horizon of which he spoke, and

there, although mine was not a nautical eye, I could plainly

distinguish the outline of a ship under sail.

Almost at the same moment the boatswain who happened to be looking in

the same direction, raised the cry, "Ship ahoy!"

Whether it was that no one believed it, or whether all energies were

exhausted, certain it is that the announcement produced none of the

effects that might have been expected. Not a soul exhibited the

slightest emotion, and it was only when the boatswain had several times

sung out his tidings that all eyes turned to the horizon. There, most

undeniably, was the ship, but the question rose at once to the minds of

all, and to the lips of many, "Would she see us?"

The sailors immediately began discussing the build of the vessel, and

made all sorts of conjectures as to the direction she was taking.

Curtis was far more deliberate in his judgment. After examining her

attentively for some time, he said, "She is a brig running close upon

the wind, on the starboard tack. If she keeps her course for a couple

of hours, she will come right athwart our tracks."

A couple of hours! The words sounded to our ears like a couple of

centuries. The ship might change her course at any moment; closely

trimmed as she was, it was very probable that she was only tacking

about to catch the wind, in which case, as soon as she felt a breeze,

she would resume her larboard tack and make away again. On the other

hand, if she was really sailing with the wind, she would come nearer to

us, and there would be good ground for hope.

Meantime, no exertion must be spared, and no means left untried, to

make our position known. The brig was about twelve miles to the east of

us, so that it was out of the question to think of any cries of ours

being overheard; but Curtis gave directions that every possible signal

should be made. We had no firearms by which we could attract attention,

and nothing else occurred to us beyond hoisting a flag of distress.

Miss Herbey's red shawl, as being of a color most distinguishable

against the background of sea and sky, was run up to the mast-head, and

was caught by the light breeze that just then was ruffling the surface

of the water. As a drowning man clutches at a straw, so our hearts

bounded with hope every time that our poor flag fluttered in the wind.

For an hour our feelings alternated between hope and despair. The ship

was evidently making her way in the direction of the raft, but every

now and then she seemed to stop, and then our hearts would almost stand

still with agony lest she was going to put about. She carried all her

canvas, even to her royals and stay-sails, but her hull was only

partially visible above the horizon.

How slowly she advanced! The breeze was very, very feeble, and perhaps

soon it would drop altogether! We felt that we would give years of our

life to know the result of the coming hour.

At half past twelve the captain and the boatswain considered that the

brig was about nine miles away; she had, therefore, gained only three

miles in an hour and a half, and it was doubtful whether the light

breeze that had been passing over our heads had reached her at all. I

fancied, too, that her sails were no longer filled, but were hanging

loose against her masts. Turning to the direction of the wind, I tried

to make out some chance of a rising breeze; but no, the waves were calm

and torpid, and the little puff of air that had aroused our hopes had

died away across the sea.

I stood aft with M. Letourneur, Andre and Miss Herbey, and our glances

perpetually wandered from the distant ship to our captain's face.

Curtis stood leaning against the mast, with the boatswain by his side;

their eyes seemed never for a moment to cease to watch the brig, but

their countenances clearly expressed the varying emotions that passed

through their minds. Not a word was uttered, nor was the silence

broken, until the carpenter exclaimed, in accents of despair:

"She's putting about!"

All started up--some to their knees, others to their feet. The

boatswain dropped a frightful oath. The ship was still nine miles away,

and at such a distance it was impossible for our signal to be seen; our

tiny raft, a mere speck upon the waters, would be lost in the intense

irradiation of the sunbeams. If only we could be seen, no doubt all

would be well; no captain would have the barbarous inhumanity to leave

us to our fate; but there had been no chance; only too well we knew

that we had not been within range of sight.

"My friends," said Curtis, "we must make a fire; it is our last and

only chance."

Some planks were quickly loosened and thrown into a heap upon the fore

part of the raft. They were damp and troublesome to light; but the very

dampness made the smoke more dense, and ere long a tall column of dusky

fumes was rising straight upward in the air. If darkness should come on

before the brig was completely out of view, the flames, we hoped might

still be visible. But the hours passed on; the fire died out; and yet

no signs of help.

The temper of resignation now deserted me entirely; faith, hope,

confidence--all vanished from my mind, and, like the boatswain, I swore

long and loudly. A gentle hand was laid upon my arm, and turning round

I saw Miss Herbey with her finger pointing to the sky. I could stand it

no longer, but gliding underneath the tent I hid my face in my hands

and wept aloud.

Meanwhile the brig had altered her track, and was moving slowly to the

east. Three hours later and the keenest eye could not have discerned

her top-sails above the horizon.

The Survivors of the Chancellor · 第 43 / 57 章