CAPTAIN HAWKSHAW MAKES A DISCOVERY TO LEEWARD.
On the night the _Princess_ was lost, the _Hermione_ did not escape
the same storm, which probably traversed in a circle all the waters
of the South Atlantic.
It was no doubt the mere skirt of the tempest which affected her, as
the sky around was clear, and the stars shone brilliantly.
Her jib was blown out of the bolt-rope and split to ribbons, and she
had her topsails close-reefed.
"Stow what remains of the jib," ordered Captain Phillips; "into the
netting with it--quick, men; cheerily now, and up with the
foretopmast-staysail."
As soon as this was done, he added:
"Go below, the watch, and take a nap if you can, for it may blow
great guns before morning."
"It is blowing three gales in one as it is," said Mr. Quail. "The
water comes waist-high in the lee-scuppers, and washes right chock
aft to the taffrail."
The _Hermione_ was tearing through the sea upon the wind, so she
rolled little, but the wild waves came pouring over her catheads and
topgallant forecastle, and over the weather bulwarks, swashing and
plashing their snowy spray far above the level of her main-courser.
"Who is at the wheel?" asked the captain, who was standing at the
break of the quarter-deck.
"Badger, the long Yankee," replied Mr. Quail.
"All seems quiet among these rascals forward; and they worked
cheerily enough to-night."
"All quiet as yet, sir; but we don't know when their little game may
begin."
"If they should have changed their minds?" suggested Phillips.
"No chance of that, sir," said Quail, shaking his head.
"Or, if the doctor was mistaken?"
"Impossible, sir," said Quail, shaking his head again--it was under a
cloud of spray this time; "and, even if he was so, we can't mistake
the disappearance of poor Manfredi after Sharkey's ugly threats, and
their mutinous spirit in general. As first mate, I have seen enough
of it to last my time at sea."
"I am prepared for the worst, at all events," responded Phillips, in
the same low voice, as he instinctively felt for the butt of the
revolver pistol in his breast-pocket, and ascended to the weather
side of the poop.
Veering round to the south-eastward, the wind was soon dead against
the ship, which laboured hard, though running close-hauled, and,
while beating to windward, her head was many points away from her
proper course.
She was running fast through the water--ten knots an hour at
least--but was making great leeway. The strain on the
weather-rigging was great; there every shroud, rope, and halyard were
tight as iron wire, while to leeward they were all blown out in wavy
bights and bends, especially at every lurch.
There was never a lull in the fierce gale, and, with every wave that
burst against her bows, the _Hermione_ seemed to roll, or swerve,
bodily off to leeward.
On this night poor Mr. Basset was in great mental misery, lest, amid
the tempest, for to such the gale nearly amounted, the crew should
put their nefarious designs in execution; but they had their hands
too full of necessary work to find time for mischief then.
He twice ventured on deck, but, to the landsman's eye, the aspect of
that wild, stormy sea, visible under a starry and cloudless sky, so
appalled him, that each time he returned to the cabin with such
visible signs of tremor or emotion, that Ethel, who had found the
impossibility of sleeping, and had hastily thrown on her morning
wrapper and shawl, joined him, and sat caressingly by his side.
Pale, anxious, and lovely she looked in her white-frilled dress; and
now every sound on deck made her father start with agitation.
"Is the gale increasing, papa?" she asked, for the twentieth time.
"Undoubtedly it is--but the captain laughs at it, and says his ship
is strong and stout."
"How soundly dear Rose sleeps amid all this hurly-burly."
"Bless the poor child--oh yes; but go to bed beside her, darling, we
have little fear to-night--for the ship, at least."
"Have we aught to fear from the sea, papa?"
Mr. Basset did not reply.
"You are silent, papa," resumed Ethel, scanning his features keenly
and affectionately, and patting his cheek with her delicate hand;
"then there is some danger of which you do not tell me. Oh, papa,
what is this you would conceal from me, who, I know, am all the world
to you?"
"You are, indeed, all the world to me now, Ethel--you and Rose,"
replied the poor man, in a broken voice, as his eyes filled, and his
heart swelled with uncontrollable anxiety and emotion; "but there,
dear, there, kiss me, and go to bed; don't waken Rose--let the poor
child sleep while she may."
And leading Ethel to her cabin, he pushed her gently in, and closing
the door, lay down on the stern-locker to watch, but not to sleep.
This gale blew steadily for more than eight-and-forty hours, during
which the _Hermione_ carried as little canvas as possible, yet she
made so much leeway as to be blown far to the southward of the
Cape--how far was known only to Captain Phillips and his two mates,
Mr. Quail and Mr. Foster, as they had tacitly agreed to keep the crew
in total ignorance of the ship's working or progress, hoping, by
doing so, to delay, if they could not ultimately frustrate, any dark
plans the intending mutineers had formed.
During all this gale, which showed no signs of abatement until the
evening of the second day, Ethel and her sister remained in the cabin
with old Nurse Folgate, who, with all her love for them, was
deploring the moment of weakness in which she consented to leave the
leafy seclusion of Acton-Rennel, "to go forth a-voyaging round the
world, nobody knew to where."
Dr. Leslie Heriot found much to keep him below, too; and thus, by day
and by night, according to the plan formed and already described,
there was always at least one armed man guarding them and the
cabin-door.
As for poor Mr. Basset, he never quitted the side of his daughters
now, until he saw them into their little cabin for the night; and
Ethel, who soon perceived her father's new solicitude and
affectionate anxiety, was quite at a loss to understand what caused
it.
None knew how the lots had fallen, or whose cast of the dice had been
highest in the forecastle bunks of the _Hermione_; but many of her
crew, when they came on deck, on the morning subsequent to the
amiable discussion so luckily overheard by Dr. Heriot, bore
unmistakable marks of a conflict, in the shape of blackened eyes,
swollen noses, and, in more than one instance, a slash or stab from a
knife.
Whatever were the ultimate intentions of these men, matters remained
unchanged on board the ship, the duty of which was carried on
excellently during the gale, for then every man did his duty readily
and cheerfully, either by force of habit, or from the knowledge that
to do so would save themselves much trouble and probable danger.
No doubt they deemed it better to wait for an opportunity after they
were assured of being past the Cape, when they would seize the ship,
and, as the doctor heard suggested, haul up for the Mozambique
Channel, a very unwise idea on their part, as, in the narrow sea,
they ran the imminent risk of being overhauled by some man-of-war,
homeward bound, or transport full of troops--chances to be avoided in
the open Indian Ocean.
The tempest had blown them to the westward, and also considerably to
the southward of the Cape, which lies in latitude 33.5.42 South, and
longitude 18.23.15 East. But the morning of the third day came in
clear and calm; there was a gentle breeze from the eastward, and the
ship was running close-hauled, with her port-tacks on board, and
everything set upon her that would draw, even to triangular skysails
and niaintopgallant staysails, so that her hull seemed a mere black
speck under such a cloud of white canvas.
And the glorious morning sun cast her shadow far along the smooth
ocean to the westward, as she cleft its waters swiftly and steadily
with her gallant prow, from which a white female figure, representing
the _Hermione_ of the classical age, the daughter of Venus and wife
of Cadmus, with Vulcan's golden necklet round her slender throat,
spread her graceful arms above the foam.
The fourth and fifth days after the gale were serene and lovely in
the extreme.
There was scarcely need for the watch to rig the head-pump for the
last three mornings; washed by the waves of the recent gale, the
decks were white as snow, and not even a shred or thread of spunyarn
could be seen about the wheels of the carronades, the coamings of the
hatches, or the mouths of the scupper-holes.
Breakfast over, Rose and Ethel came on deck, and Doctor Heriot
hastened after them with cushions, shawls, and wrappers, for the
morning air in that extreme southern latitude was cold, though clear
and bracing; even an iceberg was visible at the far and blue horizon
to the westward, an object to which Heriot drew the attention of the
sisters, and promptly arranged for them his telescope; but the fair
voyagers had become quite used to such things, so Ethel betook
herself to a novel, and Rose began a piece of crochet (which seemed
like the web of Penelope) in expectation that her lover would sit by
and converse with her.
Both seemed paler than usual, in consequence of the few days'
confinement below. Their father was anxious still, and the poor man
continued to linger about them, to hover near them, and instinctively
his trembling hand felt for the loaded revolver he carried in secret,
if one of the crew came near his daughters, and his heart beat
quicker if even one glanced to them, for in him he suspected the
winner by the dice-box of the two abhorred Barradas.
Hawkshaw, whom the young doctor's steady attentions to the sisters
galled and fretted, was up in the fore-rigging, somewhere, looking
out for a sail, as no one on board longed for the appearance of a
ship of war more than he did; so he kept one eye on the horizon, and
another on the quarter-deck, where Ethel and Rose were seated,
chatting and laughing.
Heriot had carefully examined, capped, and charged anew his revolver,
and placed it in his breast-pocket before he joined them, so the crew
very little suspected how completely all their superiors were
forewarned and forearmed.
The two girls looked, if possible, lovelier than ever on this, as it
will prove in the sequel, eventful morning, by a species of delicate
pallor induced by the close atmosphere of the cabin; and as young
Heriot gazed into their clear, full, earnest eyes, a fierce, high
spirit swelled up in his heart, and he almost rejoiced that the
terrible circumstances in which they were placed, sailing as it were
with a volcano on board, would give him an opportunity of showing how
dearly he loved Rose Basset, how willing he was to dare, alas! it
might be to die for her!
Not that he would gain much by the last move, as reflection showed,
and die he might, perhaps, by the hands of some of those ruffians,
before she could be succoured and protected, and then there was acute
agony in the contemplation of what she might endure when he could
neither see nor avenge it.
"Look, Ethel dear," Rose suddenly exclaimed with girlish delight,
"there is a great swan asleep on the water."
"A swan here?" queried Ethel.
"It is an albatross," said the doctor, smiling, "and sleeping sound
enough, certainly. I could almost toss a biscuit on his back."
There, not twelve yards distant from the ship's side, on the smooth
surface of the sea, was a great albatross, with plumage white as
snow--a bird whose pinions may have measured twelve feet from tip to
tip--fast asleep, and floating with his huge head under his wing.
Slowly he was upheaved upon each huge glassy swell, and slowly he
sank down into the glassy vale between them, sleeping, as Ethel said,
just as she had seen the swans on Acton Mere at home, and now this
lonely bird was perhaps 300 miles from land.
When first descried he was upon the weather-bow, and now he was upon
the lee quarter, so rapidly the ship left far astern this great bird
of the "Ancient Mariner," enjoying his nap, all undisturbed, upon the
morning sea.
Hawkshaw, who was pretty far up the fore-rigging, now drew the
attention of some of the crew, who were at work upon the foreyard,
greasing the sling thereof, reeving new bunt-lines to the foot of the
foretopsail, &c., to a small dark object that was floating on the
water at a great distance, and the discussion that ensued about it
soon caught the attention of the anxious and active Mr. Quail, who
was standing at the break of the quarter-deck, for the _Hermione_ had
a species of half poop, so he descended into the waist and hailed the
talkers.
"Fore-top there!"
"Aye, aye, sir," replied Bill Badger and Zuares Barradas.
"Do you see anything, that you keep such a bright look-out to
leeward, eh?'
"Yes, sir; there is something in sight," replied Zuares.
"Something; well, what is it?"
"The head o' the great sea-sarpent, I rayther reckons it to be,"
replied Bill Badger, impudently; "I sees his row o' grinders standing
up above the water."
"Grinders, you Yankee swab," responded Mr. Quail (under his breath,
however, for the fid-maul and a couple of iron marlinespikes were
lying in the foretop, and one of these might fall out of it, by
accident); "what you call grinders are the timber-heads of a piece of
wreck--if not, I am as green as a cabbage! A piece of wreck in sight
to leeward, sir," he reported down the skylight to Captain Phillips,
who came promptly on deck, telescope in hand.
"Whereabouts, Mr. Quail?"
"There, sir; you can see it now under the leach of the forecourse,
when the ship rises--can you make it out?'
"Wreck it is, Quail; the taffrail and sternpost of a vessel. Ease
her off a bit, Pedro; edge down towards it," said the captain to the
elder Barradas, whose strong hands grasped the handsome,
brass-mounted wheel of the _Hermione_; "we are raising it fast."
"If there ain't men a-clinging to it, I'm a Dutchman!" shouted
Badger, from the foretop.
"The fellow is right," said Phillips, politely passing his glass to
Mr. Basset; "human figures are visible on it. Ready the lee quarter
boat, there--clear the fall tackles; keep her on a little just as she
is, Mr. Quail, and then back with the mainyard."
All the crew crowded to the leeside of the deck now, and their entire
attention was riveted on the piece of drifting wreck which lay like a
log in the water; but towards which they were rapidly bearing down.
Ere long, four men could be distinctly seen upon it, but whether
alive or dead none could say with certainty, though all surmised the
latter, as they made neither sign nor hail, but remained still, mute,
and passive as the timber-heads to which they were lashed, and which
rose and fell, slowly and sullenly, amid the sunny ripples of that
calm morning sea.