Again Edgar was signalled--"Half-speed," then--as the captain looked
into the darkness ahead, and saw, or thought he saw, it deepen
horribly--came the sharp order, "Astern, full-speed!"
Full well did Edgar know that this implied imminent danger. Quick as
lightning he reversed the engines.
Next moment there was an appalling crash that overturned everything in
the vessel. Our hero was himself wrenched from his position, and hurled
against the bulkhead of the boiler-room; the masts went over the sides
as if they had been pipe-stems, and the wire-ropes snapt like
pack-thread. A moment of appalling silence followed, as if the very
elements had suspended their strife, then there came shriek and cry from
fore and aft as the passengers rushed frantically about, while above all
yelled the escaping steam when Edgar opened the safety-valves.
The spot where they had struck was partially protected by cliffs, that
rose like a wall in front. These cliffs turned off the direct force of
the gale, but the general turmoil of the sea raised a surf around them
which rendered the prospect of effecting a landing a very poor one, even
if the vessel should hold together for any length of time. They had not
struck on the shore of the mainland, but on a solitary islet or rock,
not far from the coast, which rose abruptly out of deep water. Hence
the silence of "the lead" as to its presence.
It were vain to attempt a description of the confusion that followed.
The few cool and collected men in the ship were powerless at first, but
gradually they succeeded in restoring some degree of order. Then the
captain explained that being hard and fast on the rocks they could not
sink, and that the vessel being strong was likely to hold together,
perhaps, for several hours.
"We're _not_ hard and fast, captain," said the semi-nautical passenger
in an undertone, as he stood by the after-hatch, where most of the cabin
passengers were assembled.
He referred to a swinging motion of the wreck, which, however, was so
very slight as to be almost imperceptible.
"I know that," replied the captain, also in an undertone, but somewhat
sternly, "we _may_ slip back into deep water, but we're hard and fast
_just now_, and I shall do my best to keep her so. Don't you go, sir,
and raise needless alarm in the minds of the passengers. See," he added
aloud, pointing towards the east, "day is already breaking; we shall
soon have light enough to commence landing. Go below, ladies, and get
your bonnet-boxes packed."
The captain's mind was far enough from jesting at that moment, but he
knew that a quiet joke, possessing a modicum of truth in it, would do
more to calm the fears of the timid than solemn advice or reasoning. He
was right. Many went to their cabins to look after their most precious
treasures, while the officers and men commenced active preparations for
escaping to the islet, whose towering cliffs now began to loom heavily
through the driving mist and foam.
From the first it was evident that only one mode of escape offered,
namely, by means of a rope to the shore, and a running tackle. This
material was easily procured and arranged, but the connecting of the
rope with the shore was another question. As daylight increased, the
island was recognised as a mere uninhabited rock, from which, therefore,
no assistance could be expected, and the terrible turmoil of waters that
leaped and seethed between the wreck and the cliffs, seemed to all on
board, including the captain himself, to be impassable.
At last it became necessary to make an effort, for it was soon
discovered that the vessel hung on the edge of a ledge, outside of which
the water deepened suddenly to twenty fathoms, and a slip back into that
would have been equivalent to certain and immediate death to all on
board.
"My lads," said the captain to the crew, most of whom were assembled
with the passengers near the port bow, where the preparations for
escaping were going on, "we must have a man to go ashore with that line.
I cannot swim myself, else I would not ask for a volunteer. Come; who
has got the heart to do a gallant deed, and save these women and
children?"
He turned as he spoke, and glanced at the female passengers and
children, who crowded under the lee of the cook-house, wet, dishevelled,
and terrified, Aileen and her musical friend being among them.
There was no response at first. The men turned with doubtful looks at
the furious sea, in the midst of whose white surges black forbidding
rocks seemed to rise and disappear, and the surface of which had by that
time become much cumbered with portions of wreckage.
"If I could only swim," growled the boatswain, "I'd try, but I can't
float no more than a stone."
Others, who looked stout and bold enough to make the venture, seemed to
think it might be better to stick to the ship until the sea should go
down. Indeed one of them said as much, but the captain interrupted him,
and was about to make another appeal, when there was a movement in the
crowd, and one of the sub-engineers pushed towards him with the
information that a volunteer was ready, and would appear immediately.
"Who is it?" asked the captain.
"Mr Berrington, sir; he's getting ready."
"The chief engineer!" exclaimed the captain. "Good; if there's a man in
the ship can do it, he is the man."
Aileen, standing somewhat back in the crowd, thought she had caught a
familiar sound!
"Who is going to make the venture?" she inquired of a man near her.
"The chief engineer, Miss, I believe."
At the moment the crowd opened and our hero came forward, clothed only
in a shirt and duck trousers. His face was not streaked with
professional paint on _this_ occasion. It beamed with the flush and the
latent fire of one who feels that he has made up his mind deliberately
to face death.
"Oh! It's the man with the handsome figure," gasped Lintie, with a wild
look of surprise.
Aileen did not now require to be told who it was. Unlike heroines, she
neither screamed nor fainted, but through the wonder which shone in her
eyes she shot forth another look,--one of proud confidence,--which Edgar
caught in passing, and it rendered his power and purpose irresistible.
The stern work before him, however, was not compatible with soft
emotions. Seizing the end of the light line which was ready, he tied it
firmly round his waist and leaped into the raging sea, while an
enthusiastic cheer burst from the crew.
At first it seemed as if the youth had been endowed with superhuman
powers, so vigorously and with such ease did he push through the surf
and spurn aside the pieces of wreck that came in his way; but as his
distance from the vessel increased, and the surging foam bore him in
among the rocks, he received several blows from a piece of the floating
bulwarks. Once also he was launched with terrible violence against a
rock. This checked him a little. Still, however, he swam on,
apparently unhurt, while the people on board the wreck gazed after him
with inexpressible eagerness. They not only thought of the imminent
danger of the gallant youth, but fully realised the probability that his
failure would be the sealing of their own doom.
As he drew near to the rocks on shore, a mass of wreck was seen to rise
on the crest of the surf close to the swimmer's side and fall on him.
An irresistible cry of despair burst from those in the ship. Some one
shouted to haul on the line and pull him on board, and several seamen
sprang to do so, but the captain checked them, for through his glass he
could see Edgar struggling to free himself from the wreck. In a few
minutes he succeeded, and the next wave hurled him on the rocky shore,
to which he clung until the retreating water had lost its power. Then
he rose, and struggling upwards, gained a ledge of rock where he was
safe from the violence of the waves.
It need scarcely be said that his success was hailed with three
tremendous cheers, and not a few deep and fervent exclamations of "Thank
God" from some who regarded the young engineer's safety as a foretaste
of their own. Some there were, however, who knew that the work which
yet remained to be done was fraught with danger as well as difficulty.
This work was commenced without delay.
By means of the light line which he had carried ashore, Edgar hauled the
two ends of a stouter line or small rope from the wreck. These two ends
he quickly spliced together, thus making the rope an endless one, or, as
seamen have it, an endless fall. The other loop, or bight, of this
endless double-rope was retained on the wreck, having been previously
rove through a block or pulley which was attached to the broken
fore-mast about ten feet above the deck--in accordance with our "rocket
apparatus" directions. In fact, the whole contrivance, got up so
hastily at this time, was just an extemporised rocket apparatus without
the rocket--Edgar having already performed the duty of that projectile,
which is to effect communication between wreck and shore.
By means of the endless fall our hero now hauled a heavy rope or cable
from the wreck, the end of which he fastened round a large boulder.
This rope, being hauled taut, remained suspended between the wreck and
the cliffs some feet above the sea. Previous to fixing it a large block
had been run upon it, and to this block was suspended one of those
circular cork life-preservers which one usually sees attached to the
bulwarks of ships. It was made into a sort of bag by means of a piece
of canvas. The endless fall was then attached to this bag so that it
could travel with its block backwards and forwards on the thick cable.
The first who passed from the wreck to the shore by means of this
contrivance was a stout seaman with two very small children in charge.
The man was sent partly to give the passengers confidence in the safety
of the mode of transit, and partly that he might aid Edgar in the
working of the tackle. The next who passed was the mother of the
children. Then followed Aileen, and after her the sweet singer. Thus,
one by one, all the females and children on board were borne in safety
to land.
After these the male passengers commenced to go ashore. A few of the
older men were sent first. Among them was Mr Hazlit.
The unfortunate merchant was so weak as to be scarcely equal to the
exertion of getting over the side into the life-buoy or bag, and he was
so tall that, despite the efforts he made to double himself together,
there was so much of him above the machine that he had a tendency to
topple over. This would have mattered nothing if he had possessed even
a moderate degree of power to hold on, but his hands were as weak as
those of a child. However, the case being desperate, he made the
attempt, and was sent away from the wreck with many earnest cautions to
"hold on tight and keep cool."
You may be sure that his progress was watched with intense anxiety by
Aileen, who stood close to Edgar as he hauled in the rope carefully.
"Oh! He will fall out," she cried in an agony as the rope dipped a
little, and let him just touch the roaring surf, when he was somewhat
more than half way over.
Edgar saw that her fears were not unlikely to be realised. He therefore
gave the rope to the seaman who had first come ashore, with orders to
haul steadily.
Owing to its position and the dipping of the life-buoy with its burden,
the cable formed a pretty steep slope from the shore. Throwing himself
on the cable, Edgar slid swiftly down this incline until stopped by the
buoy. The effect of course was to sink the machine deeper than ever,
insomuch that poor Mr Hazlit, unable any longer to withstand the
buffeting, threw up his arms with a cry of despair. Edgar caught him as
he was falling over.
"Here, put your arms round my neck," he cried, struggling violently to
fix himself firmly to the life-buoy.
The merchant obeyed instantly, giving the youth an embrace such as he
had never expected to receive at his hands! Even in that moment of
danger and anxiety, Edgar could not help smiling at the gaze of
unutterable wonder which Mr Hazlit cast on him through the salt water--
if not tears--that filled his eyes, for he had not seen the youth when
he jumped overboard.
"Haul away!" shouted our hero; but the words were stifled by a sea which
at the moment overwhelmed them.
The man at the line, however, knew what to do. He and some of the
passengers hauled steadily but swiftly on the line, and in a few seconds
the buoy, with its double freight, was brought safe to land. Mr Hazlit
was carried at once by his rescuer to a recess in the cliffs which was
partially protected from the storm, and Edgar, after doing what he could
to place him comfortably on the ground, left him to the care of his
daughter.
On his return to the beach he found the passengers who had been saved in
a state of great alarm because of the slipping backwards of the wreck,
which strained the cable so much that it had become as rigid as a bar of
iron. He began, therefore, to ply the means of rescue with redoubled
energy, for there were still some of the passengers and all the crew on
board; but suddenly, while the buoy was being sent out for another
freight, the cable snapt, the wreck slid off the shelf or ledge on which
it had hung so long, and sank in deep water, leaving nothing save a
momentary whirlpool in the surf to tell where the splendid ocean palace
had gone down.
The horror that filled the minds of those who witnessed the catastrophe
cannot be described. A feeling of dreary desolation and helplessness
followed the sudden cessation of violent energy and hopeful toil in
which most of them had been previously engaged. This was in some degree
changed, if not relieved, by the necessity which lay on all to lace the
vicissitudes of their new position.
That these were neither few nor light soon became apparent, for Edgar
and the seaman, after an hour's investigation, returned to their friends
with the information that they had been cast on a small rocky islet,
which was uninhabited, and contained not a vestige of wood or of
anything that could sustain the life of man. Thus they were left
without shelter or food, or the means of quitting the inhospitable
spot--not, however, without hope, for one of the seamen said that he
knew it to be an isle lying not very far from the mainland, and that it
was almost certain to be passed ere long by ships or native boats.
On further search, too, a spring of fresh water was discovered, with
sufficient grass growing near it to make comfortable beds for the women
and children. The grass was spread under the shelter of an overhanging
cliff, and as the weather was warm, though stormy, the feelings of
despair that had at first overwhelmed young and old soon began to abate.
During the day the gale decreased and a hot sun came out at intervals,
enabling them to dry their soaking garments.
That night, taking Edgar aside, Mr Hazlit thanked him warmly for
preserving his life.
"But," said he, seriously, "forgive me if I at once broach a painful
subject, and point out that our positions are not changed by this
disaster. Much though I love my life I love my daughter's happiness
more, and I would rather die than allow her to marry--excuse me, Mr
Berrington--a penniless man. Of course," continued the merchant, with a
sad smile as he looked around him, "it would be ridiculous as well as
ungrateful were I to forbid your holding ordinary converse with her
_here_, but I trust to your honour that nothing more than _ordinary_
converse shall pass between you."
"My dear sir," replied the youth, "you greatly mistake my spirit if you
imagine that I would for one moment take advantage of the position in
which I am now placed. I thank God for having permitted me to be the
means of rendering aid to you and Ai--your daughter. Depend upon it I
will not give you reason to regret having trusted my honour. But," (he
hesitated here) "you have referred to my position. If, in time and
through God's goodness, I succeed in improving my position; in gaining
by industry a sufficiency of this world's pelf to maintain Aileen in a
condition of comfort approaching in some degree that in which she has
been brought up, may I hope--may I--"
Mr Hazlit took the young man's hand and said, "You may;" but he said it
sadly, and with a look that seemed to imply that he had no expectation
of Edgar ever attaining to the required position.
Satisfied with the shake of the hand, our hero turned abruptly away, and
went off to ruminate by the sea-shore. At first he was filled with
hope; then, as he thought of his being penniless and without influential
friends, and of the immense amount of money that would have to be made
in order to meet the wealthy merchant's idea of comfort, he began to
despair. Presently the words came to his mind--"Commit thy way unto the
Lord; trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass." This revived
him, and he began to run over in his mind all sorts of wild plans of
making a huge fortune quickly! Again a word came to him--"Make not
haste to be rich."
"But what _is_ making haste?" he thought, and his conscience at once
replied, "Taking illegitimate courses--venturesome speculation without
means--devotion of the soul and body to business in such a way as to
demoralise the one and deteriorate the other--engaging in the pursuit of
wealth hastily and with eager anxieties, which imply that you doubt
God's promise to direct and prosper all works committed to Him."
"My plan, then," thought Edgar, "is to maintain a calm and trusting
mind; to be diligent in fulfilling _present_ duty, whatever that may be;
to look about for the direction that is promised, and take prompt
advantage of any clear opportunity that offers. God helping me, I'll
try."
Strong in his resolves, but, happily, stronger in his trust, he returned
to the cavern in which his companions in misfortune had already laid
them down to rest, and throwing himself on a bed of grass near the
entrance, quickly fell into that profound slumber which is the
perquisite of those who unite a healthy mind to a sound body.