When consciousness returned to me I found myself lying on my back on the
deck of a vessel, surrounded and propped up by pillows; and Jack Brown
sitting beside me reading a book.
I felt a curious sensation of weakness and emptiness in my head--as if
it were hollow, and a strange disinclination, almost inability, to speak
or think. Suddenly this passed away, and the events which I have
related in the previous chapters rushed back upon my memory with vivid
power.
"It must have been a dream," I thought, "or I must have been ill and
delirious, and these things have passed through my fevered brain."
At that moment the thought of Jack's amputated leg came into my head.
"That will prove it," thought I, and turned quickly to look at my
friend. One glance was sufficient--a wooden stump occupied the place of
his right leg. I groaned aloud and burst into tears.
"Come, Bob," said Jack in a soft, kind tone, laying down his book and
bending over me. "Come, my poor fellow, keep quiet. It's about time
you had your dinner. Lie still and I'll fetch it to you."
I laid my hand on his arm and detained him. "Then it's all true," said
I in a tone of the deepest despondency.
"Is what all true?"
"This--this horrible--your leg; your leg--"
Jack suddenly stooped and gazed earnestly into my face. "Do you know
me, Bob?" He trembled as he spoke.
"Know you, Jack! why should I not know you? When did I ever forget
you?"
"Thank God!" he exclaimed fervently, taking my hand and pressing it to
his breast. "You're all right again. Oh, how I have longed and prayed
for this."
"All right, Jack. Have I been wrong, then?"
"That you have just," said Jack, smiling sadly. "You've just been as
mad as a March hare, that's all!"
I fell flat down and gazed at him. In a minute more I raised myself on
one elbow, and, looking at him earnestly, said, "How long, Jack?"
"Just three weeks to-day."
I fell flat down again, in which position Jack left me to go and fetch
me some dinner. He returned quickly with a plate of soup. Before
commencing to eat it I pressed my hand on my forehead, and said--
"Jack, I am surrounded by mysteries. How got you so soon well? Where
got you that wooden leg? How are we here alone? Where are we going?
Clear up my faculties, Jack, while I eat this soup--do, like a good
fellow."
"I can easily do that, Bob. First, I got well because you took care of
me."
"What! I?"
"Yes, you! At the commencement of your madness you tended me and cared
for me as if you had been my mother. When you got to lose all `method
in your madness' I was well enough to take care of myself and you too.
Secondly, I found this wooden leg in the carpenter's berth, and gladly
availed myself of its services, though it _is_ three inches too short,
and causes me to hobble in a most undignified manner. Thirdly, we are
here alone because there is no one else with us. You took good care of
that by cutting the ropes before any of our crew could get aboard--so
you told me just before you went mad."
"Oh! I remember now! I recollect it all. Go on."
"Fourthly, as to where we are going, I don't know. Our compass was
smashed to pieces in the fight, and I've been running for the last three
weeks right before the wind. So now you know all, and as you've
finished your soup I'll go and get you a lump of boiled junk."
"Don't," said I, rising and shaking myself. "I've dined. I feel quite
strong. I don't feel a bit as if I had been ill. Hallo! what land is
that?"
Jack started and gazed at it with surprise. He had evidently not known
that we were in the neighbourhood of land. A dense fog-bank had
concealed it from us. Now that it cleared away it revealed to our gaze
a stretch of yellow sand, backed by the lofty blue hills of the
interior, and from the palm-trees that I could make out distinctly I
judged that we must have been making for the tropical regions during the
last three weeks.
Yet here again mystery surrounded me. How was it possible that we
should have reached the tropics in so short a time? While I was
puzzling over this question, the greatest mystery of all occurred to us.
If I were not conscientiously relating events exactly as they occurred,
I should expect my readers to doubt my veracity here.
As we were sailing smoothly along, our ship, without any apparent cause,
began to sink. She went down gradually, but quickly--inch by inch--
until the water was on a level with the decks. We struck no rock! we
did not cease to advance towards the shore! I fancied that we must
certainly have sprung a leak; but there had been no sound of a plank
starting, and there was no noise of water rushing into the hold. I
could not imagine what had occurred, but I had not much time for
thought. We could do nothing to avert the catastrophe. It occurred so
suddenly that we were both rendered mute and helpless. We stood gazing
at the water as it crept over the deck without making the slightest
effort to save ourselves.
At length the water reached the hatchway and poured in a roaring
cataract into the hold. The vessel filled, gave a heavy lurch to port,
a species of tremor passed through her frame as if she was a living
thing and knew that her hour had come, then she went down in a
whirlpool, leaving Jack and me struggling in the sea.
We were both good swimmers, so that we did not experience much alarm,
especially when we felt that the sea was comparatively warm; we struck
out for the shore, and, being the better swimmer of the two, I took the
lead.
But now to our horror we found that we were followed by sharks!
No sooner did we observe this than we struck out with all the energy of
terror. We never swam as we did on that occasion. It seemed to me
quite miraculous. The water burst from our breasts in foam, and we left
long white tracks behind us as we clove our way through the water like
two boats. It was awful. I shall never forget my feelings on that
occasion: they were indescribable--inconceivable!
We were about a quarter of a mile from a point of rocks when our ship
sank. In an incredibly short space of time we were close on the rocks.
Being several yards ahead of Jack, I was the first to clamber up, my
heart fluttering with fear, yet filled with deep gratitude for my
deliverance. I turned to help Jack. He was yet six yards from shore,
when a dreadful shark made a rush at him.
"Oh! quick! quick!" I screamed.
He was panting and straining like a lion. Another moment and his hand
would have been in mine, but at that moment I beheld the double rows of
horrid teeth close upon him. He uttered a piercing shriek, and there
was an indescribably horrible _scrunch_ as he went down. In a moment
after, he re-appeared, and making a last frightful effort to gain the
rocks, caught my hand. I dragged him out of danger instantly, and then
I found, to my unutterable joy, that the shark had only bitten off the
half of his wooden leg!
Embracing each other fervently, we sat down in the rocks to rest and
collect our thoughts.