← catalogue

The Pirate Island: A Story of the South Pacific

by Harry Collingwood · English · Gutenberg #21072 · 660,128 chars · public domain (US)

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Pirate Island: A Story of the South Pacific
    
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: The Pirate Island: A Story of the South Pacific

Author: Harry Collingwood

Illustrator: Charles Joseph Staniland
        Joseph Robert Wells


        
Release date: April 13, 2007 [eBook #21072]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21072

Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIRATE ISLAND: A STORY OF THE SOUTH PACIFIC ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Pirate Island
A Story of the South Pacific

By Harry Collingwood
________________________________________________________________________
A very exciting story.  It starts with a severe gale on the Essex coast
of England.  A rescue is effected, as a result of which one of the local
fishermen generously adopts an orphan boy they find on the sinking ship.

Years later a number of young people set out on a return voyage by sea
to Australia.  On the return voyage there is a disastrous fire on board
their ship, the Galatea, as a result of which they and the crew take to
the boats.

They are rescued by a vessel that turns out to be a pirate ship, the
captain of which takes them to his island, where he has a number of
ships of various kinds that he has captured.  Discovering that one of
his prisoners has designed and built his own fast-sailing yacht, the
pirate commands the people to build him a new fast ship, which they set
about doing, and succeed in doing so.

Just as the ship is completed two of the party find, in a well-written
episode, that there is a major reef of gold on the island.  However
they press on with plans to escape, which involves making off with the
new fast ship they have just completed.

Just as they are departing there is an earthquake, leading to a volcanic
eruption in the island.  This results in the death of their pursuers.

Putting two and two together it is realised that one of the people in
this story, who had originally been the boy adopted at the very start of
the book, is the lost child of the uncle of another of the passengers.
The uncle has been miserable ever since the loss of his wife and child,
though he did not know from what ship, and where, they had been lost.
There is a perfectly good reason for this.  Needless to say, it all ends
happily, with various marriages, and with the intention of getting back
to the Pirate Island, to see if it has survived the eruption, and if so,
if the gold can be mined.

It makes a very good audiobook, that is very gripping, especially at the
point where the original discovery of the gold is made.
________________________________________________________________________
THE PIRATE ISLAND
A STORY OF THE SOUTH PACIFIC

BY HARRY COLLINGWOOD

A STORY OF THE SOUTH PACIFIC.



CHAPTER ONE.

THE WRECK ON THE "GUNFLEET."

It was emphatically "a dirty night."  The barometer had been slowly but
persistently falling during the two previous days; the dawn had been red
and threatening, with a strong breeze from S.E.; and as the short dreary
November day waxed and waned this strong breeze had steadily increased
in strength until by nightfall it had become a regular "November gale,"
with frequent squalls of arrowy rain and sleet, which, impelled by the
furious gusts, smote and stung like hail, and cleared the streets almost
as effectually as a volley of musketry would have done.

It was not fit for a dog to be out of doors.  So said Ned Anger as he
entered the snug bar-parlour of the "Anchor" at Brightlingsea, and
drawing a chair close up to the blazing fire of wreck-wood which roared
up the ample chimney, flung himself heavily down thereon to await the
arrival of the "pint" which he had ordered as he passed the bar.

"And yet there's a many poor souls as _has_ to be out in it, and as _is_
out in it," returned the buxom hostess, entering at the moment with the
aforesaid pint upon a small tray.  "It's to be hoped as none of 'em
won't meet their deaths out there among the sands this fearful night,"
she added, as Ned took the glass from her, and deposited his "tuppence"
in the tray in payment therefor.

A sympathetic murmur of concurrence went round the room in response to
this philanthropic wish, accompanied in some instances by doubtful
shakes of the head.

"Ay, ay, we all hope that," remarked Dick Bird--"Dicky Bird" was the
name which had been playfully bestowed upon him by his chums, and by
which he was generally known--"we all hopes that; but I, for one, feels
uncommon duberous about it.  There's hardly a capful of wind as blows
but what some poor unfort'nate craft leaves her bones out there,"--with
a jerk of the thumb over his shoulder to seaward,--"and mostly with
every wreck there's _some_ lives lost.  I say, mates, I s'pose there's
somebody on the look-out?"

"Ay, ay," responded old Bill Maskell from his favourite corner under the
tall old-fashioned clock-case, "Bob's gone across the creek and up to
the tower, as usual.  The boy _will_ go; always says as how it's his
_duty_ to go up there and keep a look-out in bad weather; so, as his
eyes is as sharp as needles, and since one is as good as a hundred for
that sort of work, I thought I'd just look in here for a hour or two,
so's to be on the spot if in case any of us should be wanted."

"I've often wondered how it is that it _always_ falls to Bob's lot to go
upon the look-out in bad weather.  How is it?" asked an individual in
semi-nautical costume at the far end of the room, whose bearing and
manner conveyed the impression that he regarded himself, as indeed he
was, somewhat of an intruder.  He was a ship-chandler's shopman, with an
ambition to be mistaken for a genuine "salt," and had not been many
months in the place.

"Well, you see, mister, the way of it is just this," explained old
Maskell, who considered the question as addressed more especially to
him: "Bob was took off a wrack on the Maplin when he was a mere babby,
the only one saved; found him wrapped up warm and snug in one of the
bunks on the weather side of the cabin with the water surging up to
within three inches of him; so ever since he's been old enough to
understand he've always insisted as it was his duty, by way of returning
thanks, like, to take the look-out when a wrack may be expected.  And,
don't you make no mistake, there ain't an eye so sharp as his for a
signal-rocket in the whole place, see's 'em almost afore they be fired--
he do."

"And did you ever try to find his relatives?" asked the shopman.

"Well, no; I can't say as we did, exactly," answered old Bill, "'cause
you see we didn't rightly know how to set to work at the job.  The ship
as he was took off of was a passenger-ship, the _Lightning_ of London,
and, as I said afore, he was the only one saved.  There were nobody else
as we could axe any questions of, and, the ship hailing from London,
there was no telling _where_ his friends might have come from.  There
was R.L. marked on his little clothes, and that was all.  So we was
obliged to content ourselves with having that fact tacked on to the yarn
of the wrack in all the papers, in the hope that some of his friends or
relations might get to see it.  But, bless yer heart! we ain't heard
nothing from nobody about him, never a word; so I just adopted him, as
the sayin' is, and called him Robert Legerton, arter a old shipmate of
mine that's been drowned this many a year, poor chap."

"And how long is it since the wreck happened?" inquired the shopman.

"Well, let me see," said old Bill.  "Blest if I can rightly tell," he
continued, after a moment or two of reflection.  "I've got it wrote down
in the family Bible at home, but I can't just rightly recollect at this
moment.  It's somewheres about fourteen or fifteen years ago this
winter, though."

"Fourteen year next month," spoke up another of the company, decidedly.
"It was the same gale as my poor brother Joe was drowned in."

"Right you are, Tom," returned Bill.  "I remember it _was_ that same
gale now, and that's fourteen year agone.  And the women as took charge
of poor little Bob when we brought him ashore reckoned as he was about
two year old or thereaway; they told his age by his teeth--same as you
would tell a horse's age, you know, mister."

"Ay! that was a terrible winter for wrecks, that was," remarked Jack
Willis, a fine stalwart young fellow of some five-and-twenty.  "It was
my first year at sea.  I'd been bound apprentice to the skipper of a
collier brig called the _Nancy_, sailing out of Harwich.  The skipper's
name was Daniell, `Long Tom Dan'ell' they used to call him because of
his size.  He was so tall that he couldn't stand upright in his cabin,
and he'd been going to sea for so many years that he'd got to be regular
round-shouldered.  I don't believe that man ever knowed what it was to
be ill in his life; he used to be awful proud of his good health, poor
chap! he's dead now--drowned--jumped overboard in a gale of wind a'ter a
man as fell off the fore-topsail-yard while they was reefing; and, good
swimmer as he was, they was both lost.  Now, he _was_ a swimmer if you
like.  You talk about young Bob being a good swimmer, but I'm blessed if
I think he could hold a candle to this here Long Tom Dan'ell as I'm
talking about.  Why, I recollect once when we was lyin' wind-bound in
Yarmouth Roads--"

At this point the narrator was interrupted by the sudden opening of the
door and the hurried entry of a tall and somewhat slender fair-haired
lad clad in oilskin jumper, leggings, and "sou'-wester" hat, which
glistened in the gaslight; while, as he stood in the doorway for a
moment, dazzled by the abrupt transition from darkness to light, the
water trickled off him and speedily formed a little pool at his feet on
the well sanded floor.

This new-comer was Bob Legerton, the hero of my story.

"Well, Bob, what's the news?" was the general exclamation, as the
assembled party rose with one accord to their feet.  "Rockets going up
from the `Middle' and the `Gunfleet,'" panted the lad, as he wiped the
moisture from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"All right," responded old Bill.  Then drawing himself up to his full
height and casting a scrutinising glance round the room, he exclaimed--

"Now, mates, how many of yer's ready to go out?"

"Why, _all_ of us in course, dad," replied Jack Willis.  "'Twas mostly
in expectation of bein' wanted that we comed down here to-night.  And
we've all got our oilskins, so you've only got to pick your crew and
let's be off."

A general murmur of assent followed this speech, and the men forthwith
ranged themselves along the sides of the room so as to give Bill a clear
view of each individual and facilitate a rapid choice.

"Then I'll take you, Jack; and you, Dick; and you; and you; and you;"
quickly selecting a strong crew of the stoutest and most resolute men in
the party.

The chosen ones lost no time in donning their oilskin garments, a task
in which they were cheerfully assisted by the others; and while they
were so engaged the hostess issued from the bar with tumblers of smoking
hot grog, one of which she handed to each of the adventurers, saying--

"There, boys, drink that off before you go out into the cold and the
wet; it'll do none of you any harm, I'm sure, on a night like this, and
on such an errand as yours.  And you, Bill, if you save anybody and
decide to bring 'em into Brightlingsea, send up a signal-rocket as soon
as you think we can see it over the land, and I'll have hot water and
blankets all ready for the poor souls against they come ashore."

"Ay, ay, mother; I will," replied old Bill.  "Only hope we may be lucky
enough to get out to 'em in time; the wind's dead in our teeth all the
way.  Now, lads, if ye're all ready let's be off.  Thank'ee, mother, for
the grog."

The men filed out, Bill leading, and took their way down to the beach, a
very few yards distant, the dim flickering light of a lantern being
exhibited from the water-side for a moment as they issued into the open
air.

"There's Bob waitin' with the boat; what a chap he is!" ejaculated one
of the men as the light was seen.  "I say, Bill, you won't take Bob,
will you, on an errand like this here?"

"Oh, ay," responded Bill.  "He'll want to go; and I promised him he
should next time as we was called out.  He's a fine handy lad, and old
enough to take care of himself by this time.  Besides, it's time he
began to take his share of the rough work."

Reaching the water's edge they found Bob standing there with the painter
of a boat in his hand, the boat itself being partially grounded on the
beach.  They quickly tumbled in over the gunwale; Bob then placed his
shoulder against the stem-head, and with a powerful "shove," drove the
boat stern-foremost into the stream, springing in over the bows and
stowing himself away in the eyes of the boat as she floated.

It appeared intensely dark outside when the members of the expedition
first issued from the hospitable portal of the "Anchor;" but there was a
moon, although she was completely hidden by the dense canopy of fast-
flying clouds which overspread the heavens; and the faint light which
struggled through this thick veil of vapour soon revealed a small fleet
of fishing smacks at anchor in the middle of the creek.  Toward one of
these craft the boat was headed, and in a very few minutes the party
were scrambling over the low bulwarks of the _Seamew_--Bill Maskell's
property, and the pride of the port.

The boat was at once dragged in on deck and secured, and then, without
hurry or confusion of any kind, but in an incredibly short time, the
smack was unmoored and got under weigh, a faint cheer from the shore
following her as she wound her way down the creek between the other
craft, and, hauling close to the wind, headed toward the open sea.

In a very few minutes the gallant little _Seamew_ had passed clear of
the low point upon which stands the Martello Tower which had been Bob's
place of look-out, and then she felt the full fury of the gale and the
full strength of the raging sea.  Even under the mere shred of sail--a
balance-reefed main-sail and storm jib--which she dared to show, the
little vessel was buried to her gunwale, while the sea poured in a
continuous cataract over her bows, across her deck, and out again to
leeward, rendering it necessary for her crew to crouch low on the deck
to windward under the partial shelter of her low bulwarks, and to lash
themselves there.

It was indeed a terrible night.  The thermometer registered only a
degree or two above freezing-point; and the howling blast, loaded with
spindrift and scud-water, seemed to pierce the adventurers to their very
marrow, while, notwithstanding the care with which they were wrapped up,
the continuous pouring of the sea over them soon wet them to the skin.

But the serious discomfort to which they had voluntarily exposed
themselves, so far from damping their ardour only increased it.  As the
veteran Bill, standing there at the tiller exposed to the full fury of
the tempest, with the tiller-ropes pulling and jerking at his hands
until they threatened to cut into the bone, felt his wet clothing
clinging to his skin, and his sea-boots gradually filling with water, he
pictured to himself a group of poor terror-stricken wretches clinging
despairingly to a shattered wreck out there upon the cruel sands, with
the merciless sea tugging at them fiercely, and the wind chilling the
blood within their veins until, perchance, their benumbed limbs growing
powerless, their hold would relax and they would be swept away; and as
the dismal scene rose before his mental vision he tautened up the
tiller-ropes a trifle, the smack's head fell off perhaps half a point,
and the wind striking more fully upon the straining canvas, she went
surging out to seaward like a startled steed, her hull half buried in a
whirling chaos of flying foam.

Old Bill, the leader of this desperate expedition, was a fisherman in
winter and a yachtsman in summer, as indeed were most of the crew of the
_Seamew_ on this eventful night.  Many a hard-fought match had Bill
sailed in, and more than one flying fifty had he proudly steered, a
winner, past the flag-ship; but his companions agreed, as they crouched
shivering under the bulwarks, that he never handled a craft better or
more boldly than he did the _Seamew_ on that night.  One good stretch to
the eastward, until the "Middle" light bore well upon their weather
quarter, and the helm was put down; the smack tacked handsomely, though
she shipped a sea and filled her deck to the gunwale in the operation,
and then away she rushed on the other tack, with the light bearing well
upon the lee bow.

In less than an hour from the time of starting the light ship was
reached; and as the smack, luffing into the wind, shaved close under the
vessel's stern with all her canvas ashiver, Bill's stentorian voice
pealed out--

"_Middle_, ahoy! where a way's the wrack?"

"About a mile and half to the nor'ard, on the weather side of the
Gunfleet.  Fancy she must have broke up, can't make her out now.  Wish
ye good luck," was the reply.

"Thank'ee," roared back Bill.  "Ease up main and jib-sheets, boys, and
stand clear for a jibe."

Round swept the little _Seamew_, and in another moment, with the wind on
her starboard quarter, she was darting almost with the speed of her
namesake, along the weather edge of the shoal, upon her errand of mercy.

All eyes were now keenly directed ahead and on the lee bow, anxiously
watching for some indication of the whereabouts of the wreck, and in a
few minutes the welcome cry was simultaneously raised by three or four
of the watchers, "There she is!"

"Ay, there she is; sure enough!" responded old Bill from his post at the
tiller, he having like the rest caught a momentary glimpse under the
foot of the main-sail of a shapeless object which had revealed itself
for a single instant in the midst of the whirl of boiling breakers, only
to be lost sight of again as the leaping waves hurled themselves once
more furiously down upon their helpless prey.

As the smack rapidly approached the scene of the disaster the wreck was
made out to be that of a large ship, with only the stump of her main-
mast standing.  She was already fast settling down in the sand, the
forepart of the hull being completely submerged, while the sea swept
incessantly over the stern, which, with its full poop, formed the sole
refuge of the hapless crew.

"Now, boys," remarked old Bill when they had approached closely enough
to perceive the desperate situation of those on the wreck.  "Now, boys,
whatever we're going to do has got to be done smart; the tide's rising
fast, and in another hour there won't be enough of yon ship left to
light a fire wi'.  Are yer all ready wi' the anchor?"

"Ay, ay; all ready," was the prompt response.

The helm was put down, and the smack plunged round head to wind, her
sails flapping furiously as the wind was spilled out of them.  There was
no need for orders; the men all knew exactly what to do, and did it
precisely at the right moment.  Jib and main-sail were hauled down and
secured in less time than it takes to describe it; and then, as the
little vessel lost her "way," the heavy anchor--carried expressly for
occasions like the present--was let go, and the cable veered cautiously
out so that the full strain might not be brought to bear upon it too
suddenly.  Old Bill, meanwhile, stood aft by the taffrail with the lead-
line in his hand, anxiously noting the shoaling water as the smack
drifted sternward toward the wreck.

"Hold on, for'ard," he shouted at last, when the little _Seamew_ had
driven so far in upon the sand that there was little more than a foot of
water beneath her keel when she sank into the trough of the sea.  "Now
lay aft here, all hands, and let's see if we can get a rope aboard of
'em."

The smack was now fairly among the breakers, which came thundering down
upon the shoal with indescribable fury, boiling and foaming and tumbling
round the little vessel in a perfect chaos of confusion, and falling on
board her in such vast volumes that had everything not been securely
battened down beforehand she must inevitably have been swamped in a few
minutes.  As for her crew, every man of them worked with the end of a
line firmly lashed round his waist, so that in the extremely likely
event of his being washed overboard his comrades might have the means of
hauling him on board again.

Nor wore these the only dangers to which the adventurers were exposed.
There was the possibility that the cable, stout as it was, might part at
any moment, and in such a case their fate would be sealed, for nothing
could then prevent the smack from being dashed to pieces on the sands.

Yet all these dangers were cheerfully faced by these men from a pure
desire to serve their fellow-creatures, and without the slightest hope
of reward, for they knew at the very outset that there would not be much
hope of salvage, with a vessel on the sands in such a terrible gale.

The wreck was now directly astern of the smack, and only about one
hundred feet distant, so that she could be distinctly seen, as it
fortunately happened that the sky had been steadily clearing for the
last quarter of an hour, allowing the moon to peep out unobscured now
and then through an occasional break in the clouds.  By the increasing
light the smack's crew were not only enabled to note the exact position
of the wreck, but they could also see that a considerable number of
people were clustered upon the poop of the half-submerged hull, some of
them being women and children.  The poor souls were all watching with
the most intense anxiety the movements of those on board the smack, and
if anything had been needed to stimulate the exertions of her crew it
would have been abundantly found in the sight of those poor helpless
mothers and their little ones clinging there to the shattered wreck in
the bitter winter midnight, exposed to the full fury of the pitiless
storm.

A light heaving-line was quickly cleared away, and one end bent to a
rope becket securely spliced to a small keg, which was then thrown
overboard and allowed to drift down toward the wreck, the line being
veered freely away at the same time.

The crew of the wreck, anxiously watching the motions of those on board
the smack, at once comprehended the object of this manoeuvre, and, as
the keg drifted down toward them, made ready to secure it.  But the set
of the tide, the wash of the sea, or some other unexplained circumstance
caused it to deviate so far from its intended course that it passed at a
considerable distance astern of the wreck, notwithstanding the utmost
endeavours of those on board to secure it; in consequence of which it
had to be hauled on board the smack again, and thus valuable time was
lost.  The smack's helm was at once shifted, and the tide, aided by the
wind, gave her so strong a sheer in the required direction that it was
hoped a repetition of the mischance would be impossible.  The keg was
again thrown overboard, the line once more veered away.  Buoyantly it
drifted down toward the wreck, now buried in the hissing foam-crest of a
mighty breaker, and anon riding lightly in the liquid valley behind it.
All eyes were intently fixed upon it, impatiently watching its slow and
somewhat erratic movements, when the smack seemed to leap suddenly
skyward, rearing up like a startled courser, and heeling violently over
on her beam-ends at the same moment; there was a terrific thud forward,
accompanied by a violent crashing sound, and the _Seamew's_ crew had
barely time to grasp the cleat or belaying-pin nearest at hand when a
foaming deluge of water hissed and swirled past and over them, the
breaker of which it formed a part sweeping from under the smack down
toward the wreck in an unbroken wall of green water, capped with a white
and ominously curling crest.  The roller broke just as it reached the
wreck, expending its full force upon her already shattered hull; the
black mass was seen to heel almost completely over in the midst of the
wildly tossing foam, there was a dull report, almost like that of a gun,
a piercing shriek, which rose clearly above the howling of the gale and
the babel of the maddened waters, and when the wreck again became
visible it was seen that she had broken in two amidships, the bow lying
bottom-upward some sixty feet farther in upon the sand, while the stern,
which retained its former position, had been robbed of nearly half its
living freight.  And, to make matters worse, the floating keg had once
more missed its mark.

This repeated failure was disheartening.  The tide was rising rapidly;
every minute was worth a human life, and it began to look as though, in
spite of all effort, the poor souls clinging to the wreck would be swept
into eternity before the _Seamew's_ crew could effect a communication
with them.

"Let's have one more try, boys," exhorted old Bill; "and if we misses
her this time we shall have to shift our ground and trust to our own
anchor and chain to hold us until we can get 'em off."

Risky work that would be, as each man there told himself; but none
thought of expressing such a sentiment aloud, preferring to take the
risk rather than abandon those poor souls to their fate.

The line and keg were rapidly hauled on board the smack once more, and
Bill was standing aft by the taffrail watching for a favourable moment
at which to make another cast, when Bob exclaimed excitedly--

"'Vast heavin', father; 'taint no use tryin' that dodge any more--we're
too far to leeward.  Cast off the line and take a turn with it round my
waist; I'm goin' to try to swim it.  I know I can do it, dad; and it's
the only way as we can do any good."

The old man stared aghast at the lad for a moment, then he glanced at
the mad swirl of broken water astern, then back once more to Bob, who,
in the meantime, was rapidly divesting himself of his clothing.

"God bless ye, boy, for the thought," he at length ejaculated; "God
bless ye, but it ain't possible.  Even if the water was _warm_ the
breaking seas 'd smother ye; but bitter cold as 'tis you wouldn't swim a
dozen yards.  No, no, Bob, my lad, put on your duds again; we must try
sum'at else."

But Bob had by this time disencumbered himself of everything save a
woollen under-shirt and drawers; and now, instead of doing his adopted
father's bidding, he rapidly cast off the line from the keg, and, making
a bowline in the end, passed it over one shoulder and underneath the
other arm.  The next instant he had poised himself lightly upon the
taffrail of the wildly tossing smack, and, a mighty breaker sweeping by,
with comparatively smooth water behind it, without a moment's hesitation
thence plunged head-foremost into the icy sea.

The broken water leaped and tossed wildly, as if in exultation, over the
spot where the brave lad had disappeared; while all hands--both those on
board the smack and the people on the wreck--waited breathlessly for his
reappearance on the surface.  An endless time it seemed to all; and but
for the rapid passage of the thin light line out over the smack's
taffrail, indicating that Bob was swimming swiftly under water, old Bill
Maskell would have dreaded some dreadful mishap to his _protege_; but at
last a small round dark object appeared in bold relief in the midst of a
sheet of foam, which gleamed dazzling white in the clear cold light of
the moon.

It was Bob's head.

"There he is!" was the exultant exclamation of every one of the smack's
crew, and then they sent forth upon the wings of the gale a ringing
cheer, in which those upon the wreck faintly joined.

"Now, boys," exclaimed old Bill, "clear away this here line behind me,
some of yer; and look out another nice light handy one to bend on to it
in case we wants it."

The old man himself stood on the taffrail, paying out the line and
attentively watching every heave of the plunging smack, so that Bob
might not be checked in the smallest degree in his perilous passage,
nor, on the other hand, be hampered by having a superabundance of line
paid out behind him for the tide to act upon and drag hint away to
leeward.

The distance from the smack to the wreck was but short, a mere hundred
feet or so, but with the heavy surf to contend against and the line
sagging and swaying in the sea behind him, it taxed Bob's energies to
their utmost limit to make any progress at all.  Indeed, it appeared to
him that, instead of progressing, he was, like the keg, drifting
helplessly to leeward with the tide.  The cold water, too, chilled him
to the very marrow and seemed to completely paralyse his energies, while
the relentless surf foamed over his head almost without intermission, so
that he had the utmost difficulty in getting his breath.  Nevertheless
he fought gallantly on until, after what seemed to be an eternity of
frightful exertion, he reached the side of the wreck, and grasped the
rope which its occupants flung to him.  He was too completely exhausted,
however, to mount the side at that moment; and while he clung to the
rope, regaining his breath and his strength, a mighty roller came
sweeping down upon the sands, burying the smack for the moment as it
rushed passed her, and then surging forward with upreared threatening
crest toward the wreck.

There was a warning cry from those on board the wreck, as they saw this
terrible wall of water rushing down upon them, and each seized with
desperate grip whatever came nearest to hand, clinging thereto with the
tenacity of despair.  Bob heard the cry, saw the danger, and had just
time to struggle clear of the wreck and pass under her stern when the
breaker burst upon them.  Blinded, stunned, and breathless, he felt
himself whirled helplessly hither and thither, while a load like that of
a mountain seemed to rest upon him and press him down.  At last he
emerged again, considerably to leeward of the wreck, but with the rope
which they had thrown him still in his hands.  As he gasped for breath
and shook the salt water out of his eyes, something swayed against him
beneath the surface--something which he knew instantly must be a human
body.  In a second he had it in his grasp, and, dragging it above water,
found it to be the body of a child, apparently about two years old.  At
the same moment a powerful strain came upon the line which he held in
his hand, and he had only time to take, by a rapid movement, two or
three turns of it round his arm when those on the wreck began to haul
him on board.

In less time than it takes to tell of it, he was dragged inboard, and
lay panting and exhausted upon the steeply inclined deck of the wreck,
with a curious crowd of haggard-eyed anxious men and women gathered
round him.  A man dressed in a fine white linen shirt and blue serge
trousers (he was the master of the ship, and had given his remaining
garments to shield the poor shivering, frightened children) was in the
act of kneeling down by Bob's side, apparently intending to question
him, when a piercing shriek was heard, and a woman darted forward with
the cry "My child! my child!" and seized the body which Bob had brought
on board and still held in his arms.

This incident created a diversion; and Bob speedily recovering the use
of his faculties, and rapidly explaining the intentions of those on
board the smack, a strong hawser was soon stretched from the _Seamew_ to
the wreck, a "bo'sun's chair" slung thereto; and the transport of the
shipwrecked crew and passengers at once commenced.

The journey, though short, was fraught with the utmost peril; for it
being impossible to keep the hawser strained taut, the poor unfortunate
wretches had to be dragged through rather than over the surf; and when
all was ready the women, who were of course to go first, found their
courage fail them.  In vain were they remonstrated with; in vain were
they reminded that every second as it flew bore mayhap a human life into
eternity with it; the sight of the wild surf into which the hawser
momentarily plunged completely unnerved them, and they one and all
declared that, rather than face the terrible risk, they would die where
they were.

At last Bob, who knew as well as, if not better than, anyone on board
the importance of celerity, whispered a word or two in the captain's
ear.  The latter nodded approvingly; and Bob at once got into the
"chair," some of the ship's crew rapidly but securely lashing him there,
in obedience to their captain's order.  When all was ready the skipper,
approaching the terrified group of women, took one of their children
tenderly in his arms, and, before the unhappy mother could realise what
was about to take place, handed it to Bob.

The signal was instantly given to those on board the smack, who hauled
swiftly upon the hauling-line; Bob went swaying off the gunwale, with
his precious charge encircled safely in his arms, and in another moment
was buried in a mountain of broken water which rushed foaming past.
Only to reappear instantly afterwards, however; and in a very brief
space of time he and his charge had safely reached the smack.  The
little one was handed over to the rough but tender-hearted fishermen;
but Bob, seeing that he could be useful there, at once returned to the
wreck.

There was now no further difficulty with the women.  The mother whose
child had already made the adventurous passage was frantic to rejoin her
baby, and eagerly placed herself in the chair as soon as Bob vacated it.
She, too, accomplished the journey in safety; and then the others,
taking courage once more from her example, quietly took their turn, some
carrying their children with them, while others preferred to confide
their darlings to Bob, or to one of the seamen, for the dreadful passage
through the wintry sea.

The women once safe, the men made short work of it; and in little over
two hours twenty-five souls--the survivors of a company of passengers
and crew numbering in all forty-two--were safely transferred to the
_Seamew_, which, slipping her cable, at once bore away with her precious
freight for Brightlingsea.



CHAPTER TWO.

THE "BETSY JANE."

Once fairly out of the breakers the fishermen--at great risk to their
little craft--opened the companion leading down into the _Seamew's_ tiny
after-cabin, and the poor souls from the wreck were conveyed below, out
of the reach of the bitter blast and the incessant showers of icy spray.
Bob and two or three others of the smack's crew also went below and
busied themselves in lighting a fire, routing out such blankets and
wraps of various kinds as happened to be on board, and in other ways
doing what they could to ameliorate the deplorable condition of their
guests.  Fortunately the wind, dead against them on the way out, was
fair for the homeward run, and the _Seamew_ rushed through the water at
a rate which caused "Dicky" Bird to exclaim--

"Blest if the little huzzy don't seem to know as they poor innercent
babbies' lives depends on their gettin' into mother Salmon's hands and
atween her hot blankets within the next hour!  Just see how she's
smoking through it."

Very soon the "Middle" lightship was reached, and as the smack swept
past old Bill shouted to the light-keepers the joyful news of the
rescue.  A few minutes afterwards three rockets were sent up at short
intervals from the smack, as an intimation to "mother" Salmon that her
good services were required; and in due time the gallant little smack
found her way back to her moorings in the creek.

The anchor was scarcely let go when three or four boats dashed
alongside, and "Well, Bill, old man, what luck?" was the general
question.

"Five-and-twenty, thank God, men, women, and children," responded old
Bill.  "Did ye catch sight of our rockets, boys!"

"Ay, ay; never fear.  And `mother' ashore there, she's never turned-in
at all this blessed night.  Said as she was _sure_ you'd bring somebody
in; and a rare rousing fire she's got roaring up the chimbley, and
blankets, no end; all the beds made up and warmed, and everything ready,
down to a rattlin' good hot supper; so let's have these poor souls up on
deck (you've got 'em below, I s'pose), and get 'em ashore; they must be
pretty nigh froze to death, I should think."

At Bill's cheery summons the survivors from the wreck staggered to the
smack's deck--their cramped and frozen limbs scarcely able to sustain
them--and the bewildered glances which they cast round them at the
scarcely ruffled waters of the creek glancing in the clear frosty
moonlight, with the fishing smacks and other small craft riding cosily
at anchor on either side, the straggling village of Brightlingsea within
a stone's throw--a tiny light still twinkling here and there in the
cottage windows, and a perfect blaze of ruddy light streaming from the
windows of the "Anchor," and flooding the road with its cheerful
radiance--the bewildered glances with which they regarded this scene, I
say, showed that even now they were scarcely able to realise the fact of
their deliverance.

But they were not left very long in doubt about it.  As they emerged
with slow and painful steps from the smack's tiny companion, strong arms
seized them, all enwrapped in blankets as they were, and quickly but
tenderly passed them over the side into the small boats which had come
off from the shore for them.  Then, as each boat received its
complement, "Shove off" was the word; the bending oars churned the water
into miniature whirlpools, and with a dozen powerful strokes the boat
was sent half her length high and dry upon the shore.  Then strong arms
once more raised the sufferers, and quickly bore them within the wide-
open portal of the hospitable "Anchor," where "mother" Salmon waited to
receive them.

"Eh, goodness sakes alive!" she exclaimed, as the first man appeared
within the flood of light which streamed from the "Anchor" windows.
"You, Sam; you don't mean to say as there's women amongst 'em."

"Ah! that there is, mother," panted Sam, "and children--poor little
helpless babbies, some on 'em, too."

The quick warm tears of womanly sympathy instantly flashed into the
worthy woman's eyes; but she was not one prone to much indulgence in
sentiment, particularly at a time like the present; so instead of
lifting up her hands and giving expression to her pity in words, she
faced sharply round upon the maids who were crowding forward, with the
curiosity of their sex, to catch a first glimpse of the strangers, and
exclaimed--

"Now then, you idle huzzies, what d'ye mean by blocking up the passage
so that a body can get neither in nor out?  D'ye want these poor souls
to be _quite_ froze to death before you lets 'em in?  You, Em'ly, be off
to Number 4 and run the warmin' pan through the bed, and give the fire a
good stir.  Emma, do wake up, child, and take a couple of buckets of hot
water up to Number 4, and put 'em in the bath.  Run, Mary Jane, for your
life, and see if the fire in Number 7 is burning properly; and you,
Susan, be off and turn down all the beds."

The maids rushed off to their several duties like startled deer, while
the mistress turned to Sam and directed him to convey his burden to
Number 4, herself leading the way.

A number of women, the mothers and wives of the fishermen, had gathered
at the "Anchor" as soon as it was known that the smack had gone out to a
wreck, in order that they might be at hand to render any assistance
which might be required.  They were all collected in the bar-parlour;
and two of them now rose, in obedience to "mother" Salmon's summons, and
following her upstairs, took over from Sam their patient; and, shutting
the door, lost not a moment in applying such restoratives and adopting
such measures as their experience taught them would be most likely to
prove beneficial.

The rest of the survivors speedily followed; the women and children
being promptly conveyed to the rooms already prepared for them; but the
men, for the most part, proved to be very little the worse for their
exposure, seeming to need for their restoration a good hot supper more
than anything else; and this contingency also having by "mother"
Salmon's experience and foresight been provided for, the rescued and
their rescuers were soon seated together at the same table busily
engaged in the endeavour to restore their exhausted energies.

One man only of the entire party seemed unable to do justice to the meal
spread before him, and this was the master of the wrecked ship.  He
seated himself indeed at the table, and made an effort to eat and drink,
but his thoughts were evidently elsewhere.  He could not settle
comfortably down to his meal, but kept gliding softly out of the room,
to glide as softly back again after an absence of a few minutes, when he
would abstractedly swallow a mouthful or two, and then glide out once
more.  At length, after a somewhat longer absence than before, he
returned to the room in which the meal was being discussed, the look of
care and anxiety on his face replaced by an expression of almost
overwhelming joy, and, walking up to Bob, somewhat astonished that
individual by exclaiming--

"Young man, let me without further delay tender you and your brave
comrades my most hearty thanks for the rescue of my passengers, my crew,
and myself from a situation of deadly peril, a rescue which was only
effected at very great hazard to yourselves, and which was successfully
accomplished mainly--I am sure your comrades will join me in saying--
through _your_ indomitable courage and perseverance.  The debt which I
owe you is one that it will be quite impossible for me ever to repay; I
can merely acknowledge it and testify to the overwhelming nature of my
obligation, for to your gallant behaviour, under God, I owe not only the
deliverance of twenty-five human lives from a watery grave, but also the
safety of my wife and only child--all, in fact, that I have left to me
to make life worth living.  As I have said, it will be quite impossible
for me ever to cancel so heavy a debt; but what I _can_ do I _will_.
Your conduct shall be so represented in the proper quarter as to secure
for you all the honour which such noble service demands; and, for the
rest, I hope you will always remember that Captain Staunton--that is my
name--will deem no service that you may require of him too great to be
promptly rendered.  And what I say to you especially, I say also to all
your gallant comrades, who will, I hope, accept the grateful thanks
which I now tender to them."

Poor Bob blushed like a girl at these warm outspoken praises, and
stammered some deprecatory remarks, which, however, were drowned by the
more vigorous disclaimers of the rest of the fishermen and their
somewhat noisy applause of the shipwrecked captain's manly speech; in
the midst of which commotion "mother" Salmon entered to enjoin strict
silence and to announce the gratifying intelligence that all the women
and children were doing well, including the skipper's little daughter,
the apparently lifeless body of whom Bob had recovered when first he
boarded the wreck.  A low murmur of satisfaction greeted this
announcement, and then all hands fell to once more upon their supper,
which was soon afterwards concluded, when old Bill and his mates,
shaking hands heartily all round, retired to seek the rest which they
had so well-earned, while the shipwrecked men were disposed of as well
as circumstances would allow in the few remaining unappropriated bed-
rooms of the hospitable "Anchor."

By noon next day the shipwrecked party had all so far recovered that
they were able to set out on the journey to their several homes.
Captain Staunton sought out old Bill and arranged with him respecting
the salvage of the wrecked ship's cargo, after which he handed the
veteran fisherman, as remuneration for services already rendered, a
draft upon the owners of the _Diadem_, which more than satisfied the
smack's crew for all their perils and exertions of the previous night.
He then left for London to perform the unpleasant duty of reporting to
his owners the loss of their ship, mentioning, before he left, the
probability of his speedy return to personally superintend the salvage
operations.  In bidding adieu to Bob, who happened to be present while
the final arrangements with old Bill were being made, Captain Staunton
remarked to him--

"I have been thinking a great deal about you, my lad.  You are a fine
gallant young fellow, and it seems to me it would be a very great pity
for you to waste your life in pursuit of the arduous and unprofitable
occupation of fishing.  What say you?  Would you like to take to the sea
as a profession?  If so, let me know.  I owe you a very heavy debt, as I
have already said, and nothing would afford me greater pleasure than to
repay you, as far as possible, by personally undertaking your training,
and afterwards using what little interest I possess to advance you in
your career.  Think the matter over, and consult with your father upon
it"--he was not then aware of poor Bob's peculiar position--"and let me
know your decision when I return.  Now, once more, good-bye for the
present."

The weather having moderated by the next day, the _Seamew's_ crew
commenced salvage operations at the wreck, and for more than a week all
hands were so busy, early and late, that Bob had literally no time to
think about, much less to consult with old Bill respecting, Captain
Staunton's proposal.

On the third day the chief mate of the _Diadem_ appeared at
Brightlingsea, having been sent down by the owners to superintend the
work at the wreck.  He announced that he had been sent instead of
Captain Staunton, in consequence of the appointment of the latter by his
owners to the command of a fine new ship then loading in the London
Docks for Australia.  It appeared that Captain Staunton stood so high in
the estimation of his employers, and possessed such a thoroughly-
established reputation for skill and sobriety that, notwithstanding his
recent misfortune, there had been no hesitation about employing him
again.  A few days later a letter came from the captain himself to Bob
confirming this intelligence, and stating that he had then a vacancy for
his young friend if he chose to fill it.

Bob, however, as has already been remarked, was at the time too busy to
give the matter proper consideration, so he wrote back saying as much,
and hinting that perhaps on the return of the ship to England he might
be glad to have a repetition of the offer.

To this letter a reply soon came, announcing the immediate departure of
the ship, and containing a specific offer to receive Bob on board in the
capacity of apprentice on her next voyage.

The idea of taking to the sea as a profession was so thoroughly novel to
Bob that he had at first some little difficulty in realising all that it
meant.  Hitherto he had had no other intention or ambition than to
potter about in a fishing smack with old Bill, living a hard life,
earning a precarious subsistence, and possibly, if exceptionally
fortunate, at some period in the far-distant future, attaining to the
ownership of a smack himself.  But a month or two later on, when all had
been saved that it was possible to save from the wreck, and when nothing
remained of the once fine ship but a few shattered timbers embedded in
the sand, and showing at low water like the fragment of a skeleton of
some leviathan; when Bob found time to fully discuss the matter with old
Bill Maskell and his mates, these worthies painted the advantages of a
regular seaman's life over those of the mere fisherman in such glowing
colours, and dwelt so enthusiastically upon the prospects which would
surely open out before our hero under the patronage of a man like
Captain Staunton, that Bob soon made up his mind to accept the captain's
offer and join him on his return to England.

Having once come to this decision the lad was all impatience for the
time to arrive when he might embark upon his career.  As it is with most
lads, so it was with him, the prospect of a complete change in his mode
of life was full of pleasurable excitement; and perhaps it was only
natural that, now he had decided to forsake it, the monotonous humdrum
fisher's life became almost unbearably irksome to him.  Old Bill Maskell
was not slow to observe this, and with the unselfishness which was so
eminently characteristic of him, though he loved the lad as his own
soul, he decided to shorten for him as far as possible the weary time of
waiting, and send him away at once.

Accordingly, on the first opportunity that presented itself, he remarked
to Bob--

"I say, boy, I've been turnin' matters over in my mind a bit, and it
seems to me as a v'yage or two in a coaster 'd do you a power o' good
afore you ships aboard a `South-Spainer.'  You're as handy a lad as a
man need wish to be shipmates with, aboard a fore-and-aft-rigged craft;
but you ought to know some'at about square-rigged vessels too afore you
sails foreign.  Now, what d'ye say to a trip or two in a collier brig,
just to larn the ropes like, eh?"

Note: "South-Spainer"--A term frequently employed by seamen to designate
a foreign-going ship, especially one sailing to southern waters.--H.C.

Life on board a collier is not, as a rule, a condition of unalloyed
felicity; but Bob was happily, or unhappily, ignorant of this; the
suggestion conveyed to his mind only the idea of _change_, and his face
lighted joyfully up at his benefactor's proposition, to which he at once
eagerly assented.

Bob's slender wardrobe was accordingly at once overhauled and put into a
condition of thorough repair; Bill, meantime, employing himself
laboriously in an effort to ascertain, through the medium of a
voluminous correspondence, the whereabouts of an old friend of his--last
heard of by the said Bill as in command of a collier brig--with a view
to the securing for Bob a berth as "ordinary seaman" under a "skipper"
of whom Bill knew something, and who could be trusted to treat the lad
well.

Old Bill's labours were at length rewarded with success, "Captain"--as
he loved to be styled--Turnbull's address in London being definitely
ascertained, together with the gratifying intelligence that he still
retained the command of the _Betsy Jane_.

Matters having progressed thus far satisfactorily, old Bill's next
business was to write to "Captain" Turnbull, asking him if he could
receive Bob on board; and in about a month's time a favourable answer
was received, naming a day upon which Bob was to run up to London and
sign articles.

Bob's departure from Brightlingsea was regarded by his numerous friends
in the village quite in the light of an event; and when the morning
came, and with it the market-cart which was to convey him and his
belongings, together with old Bill, to Colchester, where they were to
take train to London, nearly all the fishermen in the place, to say
nothing of their wives and little ones, turned out to say farewell.

The journey was accomplished in safety and without adventure; and
shortly after noon Bill and Bob found themselves threading their way
through the narrow crowded streets to the "captain's" address, somewhere
in the neighbourhood of Wapping.

On reaching the house the gallant skipper was found to be at home, in
the act of partaking, together with his wife and family, of the mid-day
meal, which on that occasion happened to be composed of "pickled pork
and taturs."  Old Bill and Bob were gruffly but cordially invited to
join the family circle, which they did; Bob making a thoroughly hearty
meal, quite unmoved by the coquettish endeavours of Miss Turnbull, a
stout, good-tempered, but not particularly beautiful damsel of some
seventeen summers, to attract the attention and excite the admiration of
"pa's handsome new sailor."

"Captain" Turnbull proved to be a very stout but not very tall man, with
a somewhat vacant expression of feature, and a singular habit of looking
fixedly and in apparent amazement for a full minute at anyone who
happened to address him.  These, with a slow ponderous movement of body,
a fixed belief in his own infallibility, and an equally firm belief in
the unsurpassed perfections of the _Betsy Jane_, were his chief
characteristics; and as he is destined to figure for a very brief period
only in the pages of the present history, we need not analyse him any
further.

After dinner had been duly discussed, together with a glass of grog--so
far at least as the "captain," his wife, and old Bill were concerned--
our two friends were invited by the proud commander to pay a visit of
inspection to the _Betsy Jane_.  That venerable craft proved to be lying
in the stream, the outside vessel of a number of similar craft moored in
a tier, head and stern, to great slimy buoys, laid down as permanent
moorings in the river.  A wherry was engaged by the skipper, for which
old Bill paid when the time of settlement arrived, the "captain" being
apparently unconscious of the fact that payment was necessary, and the
three proceeded on board.  The brig turned out to be about as bad a
specimen of her class as could well be met with--old, rotten, leaky, and
dirty beyond all power of description.  Nevertheless her skipper waxed
so astonishingly eloquent when he began to speak her praises, that the
idea never seemed to occur to either Bill or Bob that to venture to sea
in her would be simply tempting Providence, and it was consequently soon
arranged that our hero was to sign articles, nominally as an ordinary
seaman, but, in consideration of his ignorance of square-rigged craft,
to receive only the pay of a boy.

This point being settled the party returned to the shore, old Bill and
Bob going for a saunter through some of the principal streets, to enjoy
the cheap but rare luxury, to simple country people like themselves, of
a look into the shop windows, with the understanding that they were to
accept the hospitality of the Turnbull mansion until the time for
sailing should arrive on the morrow.

Bob wished very much to visit one of the theatres that evening--a
theatre being a place of entertainment which up to that time he had
never had an opportunity of entering; but old Bill, anxious to
cultivate, on Bob's behalf, the goodwill of the _Betsy Jane's_
commander, thought it would be wiser to spend the evening with that
worthy.  This arrangement was accordingly carried out, the "best
parlour" being thrown open by Mrs Turnbull for the occasion.  Miss
Turnbull and Miss Jemima Turnbull contributed in turn their share toward
the evening's entertainment by singing "Hearts of Oak," "The Bay of
Biscay," "Then farewell my trim-built wherry," and other songs of a
similar character, to a somewhat uncertain accompaniment upon a
discordant jangling old piano--the chief merit of which was that a large
proportion of its notes were dumb.  Their gallant father meanwhile
sipped his grog and puffed away at his "church-warden" in a high-backed
uncomfortable-looking chair in a corner near the fire, utterly sunk,
apparently, in a fit of the most profound abstraction, from which he
would occasionally start without the slightest warning, and in a most
alarming manner, to bellow out--generally at the wrong time and to the
wrong tune--something which his guests were expected to regard as a
chorus.  The chorus ended he would again sink, like a stone, as abruptly
back into his inner consciousness as he had emerged from it.  So passed
the evening, without the slightest pretence at conversation, though both
Bill and Bob made several determined efforts to start a topic; and so,
as music, even of the kind performed by the Misses Turnbull, palls after
a time, about eleven p.m. old Bill hinted at fatigue from the unusual
exertions of the day, proposed retirement, and, with Bob, was shown to
the room wherein was located the "shakedown" offered them by the
hospitable skipper.  The "shakedown" proved to be in reality two fair-
sized beds, which would have been very comfortable had they been much
cleaner than they were, and our two friends enjoyed a very fair night's
rest.

Bob duly signed articles on the following morning, and then, in company
with his shipmates, proceeded on board the _Betsy Jane_.  Captain
Turnbull put in an appearance about an hour afterwards, when the order
was given to unmoor ship, and the brig began to drop down the river with
the tide.  Toward evening a fine fair wind sprang up, and the _Betsy
Jane_, being only in ballast, then began to travel at a rate which threw
her commander into an indescribable state of ecstasy.  The voyage was
accomplished without the occurrence of any incident worth recording, and
in something like a week from the date of sailing from London, Bob found
himself at Shields, with the brig under a coal-drop loading again for
the Thames.

Some half a dozen similarly uneventful voyages to the Tyne and back to
London were made by Bob in the _Betsy Jane_.  The life of a seaman on
board a collier is usually of a very monotonous character, without a
single attractive feature in it--unless, maybe, that it admits of
frequent short sojourns at home--and Bob's period of service under
Captain Turnbull might have been dismissed with the mere mention of the
circumstance, but for the incident which terminated that service.

It occurred on the sixth voyage which Bob had made in the _Betsy Jane_.
The brig had sailed from the Tyne, loaded with coals for London as
usual, with a westerly wind, which, however, shortly afterwards backed
to S.S.W., with a rapidly falling barometer.  The appearance of the
weather grew very threatening, which, coupled with the facts that the
craft was old, weak, and a notoriously poor sailer with the wind
anywhere but on her quarter, seemed to suggest, as the most prudent
course under the circumstances, a return to the port they had just left.
The mate, after many uneasy glances to windward, turned to his superior
officer, who was sitting by the companion placidly smoking, and proposed
this.

The skipper slowly withdrew his pipe from his mouth, and, after
regarding his mate for some moments, as though that individual were a
perfect stranger who had suddenly and unaccountably made his appearance
on board, ejaculated--

"Why?"

"Well, I'm afeard we're goin' to have a very dirty night on it," was the
reply.

"Umph!" was the captain's only commentary, after which he resumed his
pipe, and seemed inclined to doze.

Meanwhile the wind, which had hitherto been of the strength of a fair
working breeze, rapidly increased in force, with occasional sharp
squalls preceded by heavy showers of rain, while the threatening aspect
of the weather grew _every_ moment more unmistakable.  The brig was
under topgallant-sails, tearing and thrashing through the short choppy
sea in a way which sent the spray flying continuously in dense clouds in
over her bluff bows, until her decks were mid-leg deep in water, and her
stumpy topgallant-masts where whipping about aloft to such an extent
that they threatened momentarily to snap off short at the caps.  It was
not considered etiquette on board the _Betsy Jane_ for the mate to issue
an order while the captain had the watch, as was the case on the present
occasion; but seeing a heavy squall approaching he now waived etiquette
for the nonce and shouted--

"Stand by your to'gallan' halliards!  Let go and clew up!  Haul down the
jib."

"Eh!" said the skipper, deliberately removing his pipe from his mouth,
and looking around him in the greatest apparent astonishment.

Down rushed the squall, howling and whistling through the rigging,
careening the brig until the water spouted up through her scuppers, and
causing the gear aloft to crack and surge ominously.

"Let fly the tops'l halliards, fore and main!" yelled the mate.

The men leapt to their posts, the ropes rattled through the blocks, the
yards slid down the top-masts until they rested on the caps, and with a
terrific thrashing and fluttering of canvas the brig rose to a more
upright position, saving her spars by a mere hair's-breadth.

Captain Turnbull rose slowly to his feet, and, advancing to where the
mate stood near the main-rigging, tapped that individual softly on the
shoulder with his pipe-stem.

The mate turned round.

Captain Turnbull looked fixedly at him for some moments as though he
thought he recognised him, but was not quite sure, and then observed--

"I say, are you the cap'n of this ship?"

"No, sir," replied the mate.

"Very well, then," retorted the skipper, "don't you do it agen."  Then
to the crew, all of whom were by this time on deck, "Bowse down yer
reef-tackles and double-reef the taups'ls, then stow the mains'l."

"Don't you think we'd better run back to the Tyne, afore we drops too
far to leeward to fetch it?" inquired the mate.

The captain looked at him in his characteristic fashion for a full
minute; inquired, "Are _you_ the cap'n of this ship?"

And then, without waiting for a reply, replaced his pipe between his
lips, staggered back to his seat, and contemplatively resumed his
smoking.

The fact is that Captain Turnbull was actually pondering upon the
advisability of putting back when the mate unluckily suggested the
adoption of such a course.  Dull and inert as was the skipper of the
_Betsy Jane_, he was by no means an unskilled seaman.  The fact that he
had safely navigated the crazy old craft to and fro between the Thames
and the Tyne, in fair weather and foul, for so many years, was
sufficient evidence of this.  He had duly marked the portentous aspect
of the weather, and was debating within himself the question whether he
should put back, or whether he should keep on and take his chance of
weathering the gale, as he had already weathered many others.
Unfortunately his mind was, like himself, rather heavy and slow in
action, and he had not nearly completed the process of "making it up"
when the mate offered his suggestion.  _That_ settled the question at
once.  The "captain" was as obstinate and unmanageable a man as ever
breathed, and it was only necessary for some one to suggest a course and
he would at once adopt a line of action in direct opposition to it.
Hence his resolve to remain at sea in the present instance.

Having finally committed himself to this course, however, he braced
himself together for the coming conflict with the elements, and when the
watch below was called at eight bells all hands were put to the task of
placing the ship under thoroughly snug canvas before the relieved watch
was permitted to go below.  The brig was normally in so leaky a
condition that she regularly required pumping out every two hours when
under canvas, a task which in ordinary weather usually occupied some ten
minutes.  If the weather was stormy it took somewhat longer to make the
pumps suck, and, accordingly, no one was very much surprised when, on
the watch going to the pumps just before eight bells, an honest quarter
of an hour was consumed in freeing the old craft from the water which
had drained in here and there during the last two hours.  Their task at
length accomplished the men in the skipper's watch, of whom Bob was one,
lost no time in tumbling into their berths "all standing," where they
soon forgot their wet and miserable condition in profound sleep.
Captain Turnbull, contrary to his usual custom, at the conclusion of his
watch retired from the deck only to change his wet garments and envelop
himself in a suit of very old and very leaky oilskins, when he resumed
once more his favourite seat by the companion, stolidly resolved to
watch the gale out, let it last as long as it might.

Note: "All standing" in this case means without removing any of their
clothing.

A _gale_ in good truth it had by this time become; the wind howling
furiously through the brig's rigging, and threatening momentarily to
blow her old worn and patched canvas out of the bolt-ropes.  The dull
leaden-coloured ragged clouds raced tumultuously athwart the moonlit
sky; now veiling the scene in deep and gloomy shadow as they swept
across the moon's disc, and anon opening out for an instant to flood the
brig, the sea, and themselves in the glory of the silver rays.  The caps
of the waves, torn off by the wind, filled the air with a dense salt
rain, which every now and then gleamed up astern with all the magical
beauty of the lunar rainbow; but though the scene would doubtless have
ravished the soul of an artist by its weird splendour, it is probable
that such an individual would have wished for a more comfortable view-
point than the deck of the _Betsy Jane_.  That craft was now rolling and
pitching heavily in the short choppy sea, smothering herself with spray
everywhere forward of the fore-mast, filling her decks with water, which
_swished_ and surged restlessly about and in over the men's boot-tops
with every motion of the vessel, and straining herself until the noise
of her creaking timbers and bulkheads rivalled the shriek of the gale.

At four bells the _Betsy Jane_ gave the watch just half an hour of
steady work to pump her out.

This task at length ended, the men, wet and tired, sought such partial
shelter as was afforded by the lee of the longboat where she stood over
the main hatch, the lee side of the galley, or peradventure the interior
of the same, and there enjoyed such forgetfulness of their discomfort as
could be obtained in a weazel-like surreptitious sleep--with one eye
open, on watch for the possible approach of the skipper or mate.  All of
them, that is, except one, who called himself the look-out.  This man,
well cased in oilskin, stationed himself at the bowsprit-end--which
being just beyond the reach of the spray from the bows, was possibly as
dry a place as there was throughout the ship, excepting, perhaps, her
cabin--and sitting astride the spar and wedging his back firmly in
between the two parts of the double fore-stay, found himself so
comfortably situated that in less than five minutes he was sound asleep.

Captain Turnbull, meanwhile, occupied his favourite seat near the
companion, and smoked contemplatively, while the mate staggered fore and
aft from the main-mast to the taffrail, on the weather side of the deck,
it being his watch.

Suddenly the mate stopped short in his walk, and the skipper ejaculated
"Umph!"

The attention of both had at the same moment been arrested by something
peculiar in the motion of the brig.

"Sound the pumps," observed the skipper, apparently addressing the moon,
which at that moment gleamed brightly forth from behind a heavy cloud.

The mate took the sounding-rod, and, first of all drying it and the line
carefully, dropped it down the pump-well.  Hauling it up again, he took
it aft to the binnacle, the somewhat feeble light from which showed that
the entire rod and a portion of the line was wet.

"More'n three feet water in th' hold!" exclaimed the mate.

"Call the hands," remarked Captain Turnbull, directing his voice down
the companion as though he were speaking to some one in the cabin.

The crew soon mustered at the pumps, and manned them both, relieving
each other every ten minutes.

After three-quarters of an hour of vigorous pumping there was as little
sign of the pumps sucking as at the commencement.

They were then again sounded, with the result that the crew appeared to
have gained something like three inches upon the leak.

The men accordingly resumed pumping, in a half-hearted sort of way,
however, which seemed to say that they had no very great hope of freeing
the ship.

Another hour passed, and the pumps were again sounded.

"Three foot ten!  The leak gains on us!" proclaimed the mate in a low
voice, as he and the skipper bent together over the rod at the binnacle-
lamp.

Shortly afterwards the wheel was relieved; the man who had been steering
taking at the pumps the place of the one who had relieved him.

A hurried consultation immediately took place amongst the men; and
presently one of them walked aft to where the skipper was seated, and
remarked--

"The chaps is sayin', skipper, as how they thinks the best thing we can
do is to `up stick' and run for the nearest port."

The skipper looked inquiringly at the man for so long a time that the
fellow grew quite disconcerted; after which he shook his head
hopelessly, as though he had been addressed in some strange and utterly
unintelligible language, and, withdrawing his pipe from his mouth,
pointed solemnly in the direction of the pumps.

The man took the hint and retired.

The mate, who had witnessed this curious interview, then passed over to
the lee side of the deck, and steadying himself by the companion, bent
down and said in a low voice to his superior--

"After all, cap'n, Tom's about right; the old barkie 'll go down under
our feet unless we can get her in somewheres pretty soon."

Captain Turnbull, with his hands resting on his knees, and his
extinguished pipe placed bowl downwards between his teeth, regarded his
mate with the blank astonishment we may imagine in one who believes he
at last actually sees a genuine ghost, and finally gasped in sepulchral
tones--

"Are you the cap'n of this ship?"

The mate knew that, after this, there was nothing more to be said, so he
walked forward to the pumps, and, by voice and example, strove to
animate the men to more earnest efforts.

Another hour passed.  The pumps were again sounded; and now it became
evident that the leak was rapidly gaining.  The general opinion of the
men was that the labouring of the brig in the short sea had strained her
so seriously as to open more or less all her seams, or that a butt had
started.  They pumped away for another hour; and then, feeling pretty
well fagged out, and finding on trial that the leak gained upon them
with increased rapidity, they left the pumps, and began to clear away
the boats.  The mate made a strong effort to persuade them to return to
their duty, but, being himself by that time convinced of the
impossibility of saving the ship, he was unsuccessful.  Seeing this, he,
too, retired below, and hastily bundling together his own traps and
those of the skipper, brought them on deck and placed them in the stern-
sheets of the longboat.  The men had by this time brought their bags and
chests on deck; and finding that the brig had meanwhile settled so deep
in the water that her deck was awash, they lost no time in getting their
belongings, as well as a bag or two of bread and a couple of breakers of
water, into the boat.  The _Betsy Jane_ was then hove-to; and as she was
rolling far too heavily to render it possible to hoist the boat out, the
men proceeded to knock the brig's bulwarks away on the lee side, with
the intention of launching her off the deck.  This task they at last
accomplished, aided materially therein by the sea, which by this time
was washing heavily across the deck.  The crew then passed into her one
by one--Bob among the rest--and made their final preparations for
leaving the devoted brig.

Seeing that all was ready the mate then went up to the skipper, who
still maintained his position on his favourite seat, and said--

"Come, skipper, we're only waitin' for you, and by all appearances we
mustn't wait very long neither."

Captain Turnbull raised his head like one awakened from a deep sleep,
glanced vacantly round the deserted decks, pulled strongly two or three
times at his long-extinguished pipe, and then two tears welled slowly up
into his eyes, and, overflowing the lids, rolled one down either cheek.
Then he rose quietly to his feet and, with possibly the only approach to
dignity which his actions had ever assumed, pointed to the boat and
said--

"_I'm_ cap'n of this ship.  You go fust."  The mate needed no second
bidding.  He sprang to the ship's side and stepped thence into the boat,
taking his place at the tiller.  Captain Turnbull, with his usual
deliberation, followed.

He was no sooner in the boat than the anxious crew shoved off, and,
bending to their oars, rowed as rapidly as possible away from their
dangerous proximity to the sinking brig.

The short summer night was past, day had long since broken; and though
the gale still blew strongly, the clouds had dispersed, and away to the
eastward the sky was ablaze with the opal and delicate rose tints which
immediately precede the reappearance of the sun.  A few minutes later
long arrowy shafts of light shot upward into the clear blue sky, and
then a broad golden disc rose slowly above the wave-crests and tipped
them with liquid fire.  The refulgent beams flashed upon the labouring
hull and grimy canvas of the brig, as she lay wallowing in the trough of
the sea a quarter of a mile away, transmuting her spars and rigging into
bars and threads of purest gleaming gold, and changing her for the
moment into an object of dream-like beauty.  The men with one accord
ceased rowing to gaze upon their late home as she now glittered before
their eyes in such unfamiliar aspect; and, as they did so, her bows rose
high into the air, dripping with liquid gold, then sank down again
slowly--slowly--lower and lower still, until, with a long graceful
sliding movement, she plunged finally beneath the wave.

"There goes the old hooker to Davy Jones' locker, sparklin' like a
di'mond--God bless her!  Good-bye, old lass--good-bye!" shouted the men;
and then, as she vanished from their sight, they gave three hearty
cheers to her memory.

At the same time Captain Turnbull rose in the stern-sheets of the boat,
and facing round in the direction of the sinking brig, solemnly lifted
from his head the old fur cap which crowned his somewhat scanty locks.
He saw that her last moment was at hand, and his lips quivered
convulsively for an instant; then in accents of powerful emotion he
burst forth into the following oration:--

  "`Then fare thee well, my old _Betty Jane_,
  Farewell for ever and a day;
  I'm bound down the river in an old steamboat,
  So pull and haul, oh! pull and haul away.'

"Good-bye, old ship!  A handsomer craft, a purtier sea-boat, or a
smarter wessel under canvas--whether upon a taut bowline or goin' free--
never cleared out o' the port of London.  For a matter of nigh upon
forty year you've carried me, man and boy, back'ards and for'ards in
safety and comfort over these here seas; and now, like a jade, you goes
and founders, a desartin' of me in my old age.  Arter a lifetime spent
upon the heavin' buzzum of the stormy ocean--`where the winds do blow,
do blow'--you're bound to-day to y'ur last moorin's in old Davy's
locker.  Well, then, good-bye, _Betsy Jane_, my beauty; dear you are to
me as the child of a man's age; may y'ur old timbers find a soft and
easy restin' place in their last berth?  And if it warn't for the old
'oman and the lasses ashore there, I'd as lief go down with thee as be
where I am."

Then, as the brig disappeared, he replaced the fur cap upon his head,
brushed his knotty hand impatiently across his eyes, flung his pipe
bitterly into the sea, and sadly resumed his seat.  A minute afterwards
he looked intently skyward and exclaimed, "Give way, boys, and keep her
dead afore it!  _I'm_ cap'n of this boat."

The men, awe-stricken by the extraordinary display of deep feeling and
quaint rugged eloquence which had just been wrung from their hitherto
phlegmatic and taciturn skipper, stretched to their oars in dead
silence, mechanically keeping the boat stern on to the sea, and so
regulating her speed as to avoid the mischance of being pooped or
overrun by the pursuing surges.

About mid-day--by which time the gale had broken--they sighted a
schooner bound for the Thames, the master of which received them and
their traps on board.  Four days afterwards they landed in London; and
upon receiving their wages up to the day of the _Betsy Jane's_ loss,
dispersed to their several homes.



CHAPTER THREE.

"HURRAH, MY LADS!  WE'RE OUTWARD-BOUND!"

Bob returned to Brightlingsea just in the nick of time; for on the day
following his arrival home, a letter reached him from Captain Staunton
announcing that gentleman's presence once more in England, and not only
so, but that his ship had already discharged her inward cargo, and was
loading again for Australia.  He repeated his former offer, and added
that he thought it would be a good plan for Bob to join at once, as he
might prove of some assistance to the chief mate in receiving and taking
account of their very miscellaneous cargo.  Bob and old Bill consulted
together, and finally came to the conclusion that there was nothing to
delay the departure of the former, as his entire outfit could easily be
procured in London.  Bob accordingly replied to Captain Staunton's note,
naming the day but one following as that on which he would join; and on
that day he duly put in an appearance.

Bill, as on the occasion when Bob joined the _Betsy Jane_, accompanied
the lad to London.  The ship was lying in the London Dock; and the first
business of our two friends was to secure quarters for themselves, which
they did in a comfortable enough boarding-house close to the dock-gates.
They dined, and then sallied forth to take a look at the _Galatea_,
which they found about half-way down the dock.  She was a noble craft of
sixteen hundred tons register, built of iron, with iron masts and yards,
wire rigging, and all the most recent appliances for economising work
and ensuring the safety of her passengers and crew.  She was a beautiful
model, and looked a regular racer all over.  Her crew were comfortably
berthed in a roomy house on deck forward, the fore part of which was
devoted to the seamen, while the after part was occupied by the inferior
officers.  Captain Staunton and the chief mate had their quarters in
light, spacious, nicely fitted cabins, one on each side of the foot of
the saloon staircase; while the apprentices were berthed in a small
deck-house just abaft the main-mast.  The saloon was a splendid
apartment, very elaborately fitted up in ornamental woods of several
kinds, and with a great deal of carving and gilding about it.  The
upholstering of the saloon was of a kind seldom seen afloat except in
yachts or the finest Atlantic liners; the stern-windows even being
fitted with delicate lace curtains, draped over silken hangings.  Eight
berths, four on each side of the ship, afforded accommodation for
sixteen passengers.  These were located just outside the saloon, and the
space between them formed a passage leading from the foot of the
staircase to the saloon doors.

Bill and Bob had to find out all these things for themselves, the mate,
at the moment of their arrival on board, being the only person present
belonging to the ship, and he was so busy receiving cargo that he could
scarcely find time to speak to them.  On being told who they were, he
simply said to Bob--

"All right, young 'un; Captain Staunton has told me all about you, and
I'm very glad to see you.  But I haven't time even to be civil just now,
so just take a look round the ship by yourselves, will you?  I expect
the skipper aboard before long, and _he'll_ do the honours."

In about half an hour afterwards Captain Staunton made his appearance,
and, hearing that Bill and Bob were down below aft somewhere, at once
joined them in the saloon.  He shook them both most heartily by the
hand, and, in a few well-chosen words, expressed the gratification he
felt at renewing his acquaintance with them, and at the prospect of
having Bob with him.

"I have spoken to my owners concerning you," he said to Bob, "and have
obtained their permission to receive you on board as an apprentice.  You
will dress in uniform, and berth with the other apprentices in the after
house; your duties will be light, and it will be my pride as well as my
pleasure to do everything in my power to make a gentleman as well as a
thorough seaman of you, and so fit you in due time to occupy such a
position as the one I now hold, if not a still better one."  He
suggested that Bob should sign his indentures on the following day, and
then proposed that they should go at once, in a body, to see about our
hero's uniform and outfit, the whole of which, in spite of all
protestation, he insisted on himself presenting to the lad.

On the following day Bob signed his indentures as proposed, and joined
the ship, assisting the chief mate to receive and take account of the
cargo.  Four days of this work completed the loading of the vessel and
the taking in of her stores; and a week from the day on which Bob first
saw her, the _Galatea_ hauled out of dock and proceeded in charge of the
chief mate down the river as far as Gravesend, where her captain and
passengers joined her.

It is now time to say a descriptive word or two concerning the various
persons with whom our friend Bob was for some time to be so intimately
associated.

Captain Staunton, as the head and chief of the little community, is
entitled to the first place on the list.

He was a tall, handsome man, in the very prime of life, being about
thirty-five or forty years of age.  His features were finely moulded,
the lines about the firmly closed mouth indicating great decision and
fixity of purpose, while the clear steadfast grey eyes beamed forth an
assurance of the kindly and genial disposition of their owner.  Light
auburn hair, in short-cut but thickly clustering curls, crowned his
shapely head, and a closely cut beard and moustache shaded the lower
part of his deeply bronzed face.  For the rest, his broad massive
shoulders indicated unmistakably the possession of great strength;
whilst his waist, slim almost as that of a woman, his lean muscular
lower limbs, and his quick springy step, told of great bodily activity.
His disposition was exactly what one would, from a study of his
externals, judge it to be--frank, generous, genial, kindly, and
sympathetic to his friends, but a fearless and formidable foe to any who
might be so ill-advised as to constitute themselves his enemies.

Mr Bowles, the first mate--or "chief officer" as he preferred rather to
be termed, thinking this title sounded more dignified than the other--
was a big, burly, loud-voiced individual; a thorough seaman, a strict
disciplinarian, and possessed of a general disposition to "stand no
nonsense" from _anybody_, but particularly from the seamen, who, as a
class, were regarded by him with an eye of great suspicion.  He was,
however, scrupulously just and straightforward in his dealings with all
men, and, if a seaman proved himself to be capable and willing, he had
nothing to fear from "Bill Bowles," as this individual was in his more
genial moods wont to style himself; if, however, on the other hand, a
man proved lazy, or incapable of executing the duties he had undertaken
to perform, let him "look out for squalls."

The second mate was in every way a marked contrast to the "chief."  He
was a tall thin sallow-complexioned man, with straight black hair, thick
eyebrows, and thin feeble-looking whiskers, the latter very lank and
ragged, as he seemed never to trim them.  His eyes were believed to be
black, but no one seemed to be at all certain about this, as he would
never look any man long enough in the face to allow the question to be
decided.  His glances were of a shifting stealthy description, and his
face habitually wore a morose dissatisfied expression, with a dash of
malice thrown in, which made those who were brought into contact with
him eager to get away from him again as speedily as might be.  It need
scarcely be said that, with these characteristics, he soon made himself
universally unpopular.  This was his first voyage under Captain
Staunton.  His name was Carter, and it was understood that he was
distantly related to one of the members of the firm owning the
_Galatea_.

The third mate was a young fellow named Dashwood, formerly an
apprentice.  He had been out of his time rather more than a year, and
the present was his second voyage with Captain Staunton.  He was a smart
young fellow, anxious to get on in his profession, and very good-
natured.

There were three other apprentices, or "midshipmen" as they called
themselves--Ralph Neville, John Keene, and little Ned Edwards, the
latter being Bob's junior by a year, while the others were his elders
respectively by three years and one year.  It is not necessary to
minutely describe these youths, as they are destined to perform only a
very unimportant part in this narrative.

Then there were the passengers, of whom the ship took out her full
complement.

First among these must be placed Mrs Staunton, the captain's wife;
though she could scarcely be called a passenger since she paid no fare,
the owners allowing their captains the privilege of taking their wives
to sea with them.  That the captain should have his wife with him was
regarded indeed by the owners as a decided advantage, for, in the first
place, she could conveniently act the part of chaperone to young and
unprotected lady-passengers when there were any; and, in the next, they
were justly of opinion that the captain would take extra care of the
ship if she held a being so dear to him as his wife.

Mrs Staunton was considerably younger than her husband, being (if one
may venture to disclose such a secret) about twenty-eight years of age.
She was a very beautiful woman, rather above medium height, of a very
amiable and affectionate disposition, and in all respects a worthy mate
to her noble-hearted husband.  She always went to sea with Captain
Staunton, and made his private cabin a very palace of elegance and
comfort for him.  Their little daughter May, now three years old, the
same little creature who had been so happily saved by Bob from a watery
grave on the night of the wreck on the Gunfleet, was also on board.

There were three other lady-passengers, all unmarried, on board on the
present occasion.  The elder of the three, a Miss Butler, was a lady "of
a certain age," with a quiet subdued manner, and nothing remarkable
about her, either in character or appearance.

The two others were cousins, both of them being young and very pretty.
The younger of the twain, Blanche Lascelles, was making the voyage on
the recommendation of her physician, her health having been somewhat
delicate of late.  "There are no very alarming symptoms at present, my
dear madam," was the doctor's assurance to Blanche's mother; "and a good
long sea-voyage, say out to Australia and back, will be more beneficial
than a whole pharmacopoeia of drugs."  In accordance with which opinion
Blanche's passage had been taken out and home on board the _Galatea_;
and her fair self especially confided to the care and protection of
Captain and Mrs Staunton.  This young lady was eighteen years of age,
fair-haired, blue-eyed, _petite_, very merry and light-hearted, and
altogether exceedingly attractive and lovable.

Her cousin, Violet Dudley, aged twenty-two, was a tall and stately
brunette, with a wealth of dark sheeny chestnut hair, almost black in
the shade, magnificent dark eyes, which flashed scornfully or melted
into tenderness according to the mood of that imperious beauty, their
owner, and a figure the ideal perfection and grace of which are rarely
to be met with out of the sculptor's marble.  The rich healthy colour of
her cheeks and full ripe lips, and the brilliant sparkle of her glorious
eyes showed that it was not for health's sake she had undertaken the
voyage.  She was on board the _Galatea_ in order that her cousin Blanche
might have the benefit of her companionship, and also because a
favourable occasion now presented itself for her to visit some friends
in Sydney, whither the _Galatea_ was bound.

The rest of the passengers, thirteen in number, were gentlemen.  Of
these it will be necessary to describe three only, namely, Mr Forester
Dale, Mr Fortescue, and Mr Brook.  Messrs. Dale and Fortescue were
partners, being contractors in a rather large way; and Mr Brook was
their general manager and right-hand man.  The trio were now going out
to Australia on business connected with a large job about to be
undertaken in that colony, for which they were anxious to secure the
contract.

Mr Dale, or Mr Forester Dale as he preferred to be styled, was a
somewhat querulous individual, with an unhappy knack of looking at the
dark side of everything.  Add to this the fact that he entertained a
very exalted idea of his own (imaginary) excellences, and believed
himself to be almost, if not quite, infallible, and it will be seen that
he was not likely to prove a very desirable travelling companion.

Rex Fortescue, on the other hand, was so thoroughly good-tempered that
it had grown to be a tradition among the employes of the firm that it
was impossible to "put him out."  He was never known to lose his temper,
even under the most exasperating circumstances; he took the worries of
life easily, and would seriously inconvenience himself to help others.
He was as energetic and industrious as he was good-natured; work was his
recreation, and it was notorious that to his energy it was chiefly due
that the firm of which he was a member had attained its eminence.  His
senior partner characteristically took all the credit to himself, and
had gradually brought himself to believe that in establishing the
business he had seriously impaired his own health; but everybody else
who knew anything about them knew also that the junior partner was the
life and soul of the business.  Rex was not what would be termed a
handsome man by any means, but his frank pleasant good-tempered face
proved far more permanently attractive than mere physical beauty without
these embellishments could ever hope to be.

Mr Brook differed from both his employers--where indeed will you meet
with two men exactly alike?  Of the two, however, he most nearly
approximated to the senior partner, inasmuch as that, like that
gentleman, he entertained a very high opinion of his own abilities,
stood greatly upon his dignity, and was childishly jealous of any
preference shown for others before himself.  Unlike Mr Dale, however,
he was a man of limited education; he had read much, but his reading had
been almost wholly superficial; he possessed, upon an infinite variety
of subjects, that little knowledge which is a dangerous thing.  There
was consequently no topic of conversation upon which he had not
something oracular to say; he was wont to maintain his own opinion with
a very considerable amount of heat, and so obstinate was he that it was
quite impossible to convince him that he was ever in the wrong.  He was
essentially a vulgar man; but, as might naturally be supposed from what
has already been said, he regarded himself as a polished gentleman, and
in his efforts to act up to his ideal of this character he often used
words of whose meaning he had but a very imperfect idea, and always in
the wrong place.  His chief redeeming points were that he was thoroughly
master of his business, honest as the day, and did not object to "rough
it" when occasion required.

The characteristics of this trio came prominently into view when they,
with the rest of the passengers, boarded the ship at Gravesend and
proceeded to take possession of their cabins.

The bulk of the passengers' luggage had been shipped in dock, and passed
down into the after-hold upon the top of the cargo, in order that it
might be out of the way but easily come-at-able if required during the
voyage; each one, however, as he or she came up the ship's side and
stepped in on deck, bore in his or her hand one or more bundles of
wraps, deck-chairs, and other _impedimenta_.

The first to make his appearance was Mr Forester Dale; he was not
ashamed to take precedence even of the ladies.  He walked straight aft,
glancing neither to the right nor to the left, ascended the half-dozen
steps leading up to the top of the monkey-poop, and at once dived down
the saloon-companion.  Arrived at the bottom of the staircase he stood
there, blocking up the way, and began to call discontentedly for the
steward to show him his cabin, which that official hastened to do.

Mr Fortescue was among the last to leave the boat which had brought the
passengers alongside, and he was closely followed on board by Mr Brook.
On reaching the deck they both paused to glance round them and aloft at
the towering symmetrical masts and spars, with their mazy network of
rigging.

"Jolly craft this, isn't she, Brook?" remarked Rex Fortescue genially;
"plenty of room, and clean as a new pin, although they're only just out
of dock.  I think we shall be comfortable here."

"Oh, yes," assented Brook, "we shall be comfortable enough, I don't
misdoubt; and as to `roomy,' iron ships always is, that's what they
builds 'em of iron for."

They then proceeded below, and, like the rest, sought their cabins in
order to stow away their luggage.

Rex Fortescue shared a cabin with his senior partner, each cabin
containing two sleeping berths.  As he entered the one which from the
number on its door he knew to be his, he found Mr Forester Dale
struggling viciously with a drawer which, in his impatience to open, he
had twisted out of position and hopelessly jammed.

"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Rex as he opened the door and noticed how lofty
and roomy and how beautifully fitted up was the place, "what jolly
cabins!"

"Jolly!" retorted Dale, "I don't see anything jolly about them.  I think
they're _beastly_ holes; there's not room to swing a cat in 'em."

"Well, you don't want to swing a cat in them, do you?" inquired Rex
gravely, firing off the venerable joke at his senior half unconsciously.
"I think they are first-rate cabins, considering that they're on board
ship; you can't expect to have such rooms here as you have at `The
Blackthorns.'  Space is limited afloat, you know."

"Eight you are, Mr Fortescue," shouted Brook through the bulkhead, his
cabin adjoining that of the partners, and conversation, unless pitched
in a low tone, being quite audible from one to the other; "I call these
cabins _splendid_; moreover than that, look how light and atmospheric
they are; why, you wouldn't find lighter or more luxuriant cabins in the
_Great Eastern_ herself."

"I wish, Brook, you'd shut up and mind your own business," snarled Mr
Dale as in his irritation he wrenched off a drawer-knob; "you're a good
deal too ready with your opinions, and I'll thank you to keep 'em to
yourself until you're asked for 'em for the future."

Here Rex Fortescue interposed, pouring by his tact and good-humour oil
upon the troubled waters, and bringing harmony out of discord once more;
so that, by the time everything had been packed away in its proper place
and the dinner-bell had rung out its welcome peal, peace reigned
undisturbed in the handsome saloon of the _Galatea_.

Meanwhile, the passengers having all embarked, the ship at once
proceeded down the river in tow, and when the occupants of the saloon
rose from the dinner-table and went on deck to enjoy the beauty of the
evening they found themselves off Sheerness, in the midst of a fleet of
ships and steamers of all builds and all nationalities, some outward-
bound like themselves, and others entering the river, either under
steam, in tow, or under canvas, as the case might be.  Here came a
magnificent steamship, towering high out of the water, at the close of
her voyage from India, with sallow-complexioned passengers scattered
about her decks fore and aft, muffled up in thick overcoats, and pacing
briskly to and fro to stimulate the circulation of the thin blood in
their veins, and looking the picture of chilly misery, though the
evening was almost oppressively warm.  There, on the other side, moved
sluggishly along under her old, patched, and coal-grimed canvas a
collier brig, with bluff bows, long bowsprit, and short stumpy masts and
yards, the counterpart of the _Betsy Jane_ of glorious memory.  Abreast
of her, and sailing two feet to the collier's one, was a river-barge,
loaded down to her gunwale with long gaily painted spreet and tanned
canvas which gleamed a rich ruddy brown in the rays of the setting sun.
Here, again, came a swift excursion steamer, her decks crowded with
jovial pleasure-seekers, and a good brass band on the bridge playing "A
Life on the Ocean Wave," whilst behind her again appeared a clumsy but
picturesque-looking "billy-boy" or galliot from the Humber--the _Saucy
Sue_ of Goole--with a big brown dog on board, who, excited by the
unwonted animation of the scene, rushed madly fore and aft the deck,
rearing up on his hind-legs incessantly to look over the bulwarks and
bark at all and sundry.  Then came a large full-rigged ship in tow, her
hull painted a dead-black down to the gleaming copper, the upper edge of
which showed just above the water-line, with the high flaring bow, short
counter, and lofty tapering spars, which needed not the "stars and
stripes" fluttering far aloft to proclaim her an American.  And behind
her, again, came a great five-masted ironclad, gliding with slow and
stately motion up the river on her way to Chatham.

"Oh, what a monster of a ship!" exclaimed little Blanche Lascelles as
the ironclad approached near enough to the _Galatea_ to enable those on
board to realise her vast proportions.

"Yes," said Brook, who was standing close by, evidently anxious for an
opportunity to ingratiate himself with the ladies.  "Yes, that's the
_Black Prince_; I know her well.  Fine ship, ain't she?"

"I think you are mistaken, sir, as to the name of that ironclad,"
remarked Captain Staunton, who was on the poop within ear-shot.  "The
_Black Prince_ has only _three_ masts, and she has a raking stem, not a
ram."

"Oh, no; I'm not mistaken," said the individual addressed.  "Wait 'til
we see her name; you'll find I'm right."

Another minute or so and the great ship swept close past them, her white
ensign drooping from the peak and her pennant streaming out from her
main-royal mast-head like a fiery gleam in the sunset glow, the look-out
men on her forecastle and the officers on her bridge dwarfed to pigmies
by comparison with the huge structure which bore them.  As soon as she
was fairly past the word _Agincourt_ flashed from her stern in golden
letters so large that they could be easily read without the aid of a
telescope.

Captain Staunton glanced, with an amused twinkle in his eye, at his
over-confident passenger, as much as to say, "What do you think of
that?"

Brook looked just a trifle confused for a moment; then his brow cleared,
and he replied to the captain's look by remarking in his usual easy
confident tone--

"Oh, ah, yes; it's all right.  She's been altered, and had her name
changed; I remember reading about it somewhere."

"Good heavens!" exclaimed the skipper _sotto voce_ to the chief mate who
was standing next him; "why, before the voyage is over the man will be
telling us that the _Galatea_ is her own longboat lengthened and raised
upon."

At 7:30 p.m. the hands were mustered, when the chief and second officers
proceeded to pick the watches.  Bob, to his great satisfaction, found
himself included in the chief officer's watch, with Ralph Neville for a
companion.  They were told off, with two able and two ordinary seamen,
for duty on the mizzen-mast; the two lads being also required to keep
the time and strike the bell, in spells of two hours each.

By seven bells in the first watch (11:30 p.m.) the _Galatea_ was off the
North Foreland, with a nice little breeze blowing from E.N.E.

All hands were then called, the canvas was loosed and set, the tow-rope
cast off by the tug and hauled inboard, and the voyage, which was to
prove of so eventful a character to those entering upon it, may be said
to have fairly commenced.  The ship was soon under every stitch of sail
that would draw, gliding down through the Downs at the rate of about
seven knots, and the passengers, most of whom had remained on deck to
witness the operation of making sail, then retired to their several
berths, where, the night being fine and the water smooth, it is
reasonable to suppose they enjoyed a good night's rest.



CHAPTER FOUR.

THE OUTWARD VOYAGE.

By eight o'clock next morning--at which hour the passengers sat down to
breakfast--the _Galatea_ was off Dungeness, which she rounded with a
somewhat freshening breeze, and noon saw her fairly abreast of Beachy
Head.  The weather was magnificent; the breeze, whilst fresh enough to
waft the good ship through the water at the rate of an honest ten knots
in the hour, was not sufficiently strong to raise much sea; the only
result, therefore, was a slight leisurely roll, which the passengers
found agreeable rather than the reverse, and everybody was consequently
in the most exuberant spirits, congratulating themselves and each other
on so auspicious a commencement to their voyage.

As for Bob, he was in the seventh heaven of delight.  The noble
proportions of the beautiful craft which bore him so gallantly over the
summer sea, her spotless cleanliness, the perfect order and method with
which the various duties were performed, and the consideration with
which he was treated by his superiors, constituted for him a novel
experience, in strong contrast to the wet and dirt, the often severe
toil, and the rough-and-ready habits of the collier seamen on board the
_Betsy Jane_.  From the moment that Bob had assumed duty on board the
_Galatea_ Captain Staunton had taken pains to make matters pleasant for
him; he had spoken freely of the heavy obligation under which he
considered that Bob had laid him, and had extolled in the most laudatory
terms the lad's behaviour during that terrible winter night upon the
Gunfleet; Bob, therefore, found himself the possessor of a reputation
which commanded universal admiration and respect in the little community
of which he was a member, with the result that he was quite
unconsciously accorded a distinction which under other circumstances it
would have been vain for him to hope.  Thus, when our hero found
himself, as he frequently did, a guest at the saloon dinner-table
(Captain Staunton following the example of the commanders in the navy by
occasionally inviting his officers to dine with him), the passengers
almost unanimously received him into their midst with a friendly warmth
which they accorded to none of the other subordinates on board, agreeing
to regard in him as pleasant eccentricities those frequent lapses in
grammar and pronunciation which they would have resented in others as
the evidences of a decided inferiority, to be kept at a distance by the
coldest and most studied disdain.

Captain Staunton took an early opportunity to speak to Bob respecting
his unfortunate lack of education and culture.  They were alone together
in the chart-room at the moment, whither the skipper had called Bob, in
order that their conversation might be strictly private.

"Robert," said he--he always addressed Bob as "Robert" when what he had
to say was unconnected with duty--"Robert, my boy, I wish to say a word
or two to you respecting your education, which, I fear, has been
somewhat neglected--as, indeed, might reasonably be expected, seeing how
few educational advantages usually fall in the way of a fisher-lad.
Now, this must be remedied as speedily as possible.  I am anxious that
you should become not only a first-rate seaman and thorough navigator,
but also a polished gentleman, in order that you may be fitted to fill
the highest posts attainable in the profession which you have chosen.
When I was your age if a man knew enough to enable him to safely
navigate his ship from place to place that was about all that was
required of him.  But times have changed since then; the English have
become a nation of travellers; passenger-ships have enormously increased
in number, and the man who now commands one is expected, in addition to
his other duties, to play the part of a courteous and intelligent host
to those who take passage with him.  To enable him to perform this
portion of his duties satisfactorily a liberal education and polished
manners are necessary, and both of these you must acquire, my boy.
There is only one way of attaining the possession of these requisites,
and that is--study.  The intelligent study of books will give you the
education; and the study of your fellow-creatures, their speech, habits,
and demeanour, will give you polish, by showing you what things to
imitate and what to avoid.  Now, you have an excellent opportunity to
commence both these branches of study at once.  Mr Eastlake, the
missionary, takes the greatest interest in you, and has offered not only
to lend you the necessary books, but also to give you two hours' tuition
daily, an offer which I have ventured to thankfully accept on your
behalf.  And in addition to this you have sixteen passengers to study.
Some of them are perfect gentlemen, others, I am sorry to say, are
anything but that.  Your own good sense will point out to you what is
worthy of imitation and what should be avoided in the manners of those
around you, and I think you are sharp and intelligent enough to quickly
profit by your observations.  Keep your eyes and ears open, and your
mouth as much as possible shut, just for the present, and I have no
doubt you will soon make headway.  In addition to the two hours' tuition
which Mr Eastlake has promised you I intend to give you two more; Mr
Eastlake's tuition will be in various branches of useful knowledge, and
mine will be in navigation.  Your studies will be conducted here in the
chart-room, and I have very little doubt but that, if you are only half
as willing to learn as we are to teach, you will have made a
considerable amount of progress by the time that we arrive at Sydney;
indeed, as far as navigation is concerned, it is by no means an
intricate science, and there is no reason why you should not be a
skilled navigator by the time that we reach Australia."

Bob had the good sense to fully appreciate the immense value of the
advantages thus proffered to him.  He was intelligent enough to at once
recognise the vast intellectual distance which intervened between
himself, a poor, ignorant fisher-lad, and the highly-educated men and
women who were to be found among the saloon passengers, as well as the
wide difference between his own awkward, embarrassed manner and the
quiet, easy, graceful demeanour which distinguished some of the
individuals to be seen daily on the poop of the _Galatea_.  The sense of
his inferiority already weighed heavily upon him; the opportunity now
offered him of throwing it off was therefore eagerly and gratefully
accepted, and he at once plunged _con amore_ into the studies which were
marked out for him.

Mr Eastlake--the gentleman who had undertaken to remedy, as far as time
permitted, the serious defects in Bob's education--was exceptionally
well qualified for the task.  Educated at Cambridge, where he had won a
double first; naturally studious, a great traveller, endowed with a
singularly happy knack of investing the driest subject with quite an
absorbing interest, and a perfect master in the art of instructing, he
superintended Bob's studies so effectively that the lad's progress was
little short of marvellous.  Not content with the two hours of daily
tuition which had originally been proposed, Mr Eastlake frequently
joined the lad on the poop or in the waist for the first two or three
hours of the first night-watch, when the weather happened to be fine and
Bob's services were not particularly required, and, promenading fore and
aft with his pupil by his side, he was wont to launch into long and
interesting disquisitions upon such topics as were best calculated to
widen Bob's sphere of knowledge and cultivate his intellect.

Nor was Captain Staunton any less successful in that portion of Bob's
studies which he had undertaken to direct.  Fortunately for our hero his
skipper was not one of those men whose acquaintance with navigation
consists solely in the blind knowledge that certain calculations if
correctly performed will afford certain information; Captain Staunton
had studied nautical astronomy intelligently and thoroughly, he knew the
_raison d'etre_ of every calculation in the various astronomical
problems connected with the science of navigation, and was therefore in
a position to explain clearly and intelligently to his pupil every step
which was necessary, as well in the simple as in the more abstruse and
difficult calculations.

Thus admirably circumstanced in the matter of instructors, and aided by
his own anxiety to improve, Bob made such steady and rapid progress that
by the time the ship rounded the Cape he could "work a lunar," solve a
quadratic equation or any problem in the first two books of Euclid, and
write an intelligently expressed, correctly spelt, and grammatical
letter, in addition to possessing a large store of knowledge on everyday
subjects.  Nor was this all.  The majority of the passengers, moved by
Captain Staunton's frequent references to Bob's exploit on the Gunfleet,
had taken quite a fancy to the lad, and conversed so frequently and so
freely with him that his _mauvais honte_ gradually disappeared, and he
found himself able to mingle with them with an ease and absence of self-
consciousness which was as pleasing as it was novel to him.

Meanwhile the _Galatea_ sped rapidly and prosperously on her way.  The
breeze with which she had started lasted long enough to run her fairly
into the north-east trades, and once in them the journey to the Line was
a short and pleasant one.  Here a delay of three days occurred, during
which the ship had to contend with light baffling winds and calms,
interspersed with violent thunder and rain squalls, the latter of which
were taken advantage of to fill up the water-tanks.  Then on again to
the southward, braced sharp up on the larboard tack, with the south-east
trade-wind blowing fresh enough to keep the royals stowed for the
greater part of the time; and then, light easterly breezes, just at the
time when they fully expected to fall in with strong westerly winds
before which to run down their easting.

Here occurred their first check, and instead of being thankful that they
had been so greatly favoured thus far, everybody of course began
forthwith to grumble.  The passengers, perhaps, chafed under the delay
quite as much as Captain Staunton, but their outward manifestations of
impatience were confined for the most part to dissatisfied glances at
the hard cloudless blue sky to windward, as it met their gaze morning
after morning when they came on deck, to shrugs of the shoulders
whenever the subject happened to be mentioned, and to scornful,
sarcastic, or despondent allusions to the proverbial longevity and
obstinacy of easterly winds in general.  Except Mr Forester Dale, and
he, I regret to say, made himself a perfect nuisance to everybody on
board by his snappishness and irascibility.  The weather was "beastly,"
the ship was "beastly," and his demeanour was such as to suggest to the
other passengers the idea that he considered them also to be "beastly,"
a suggestion which they very promptly resented by sending him to
Coventry.  That his metaphorical seclusion in that ancient city was not
of the very strictest kind was entirely due to the fact that his
partner, Rex Fortescue, and the inimitable Brook wore on board.  Rex
bore the childish irritability of his senior partner with unparalleled
good-humour; his strongest protest being a mere, "Shut up, there's a
good fellow, and let a man enjoy his book and his weed in peace for once
in a while."  Factotum Brook attempted quite a different mode of
soothing his superior.  He demonstrated--to his own complete
satisfaction if not to that of anybody else--that it was a physical
impossibility for them to have anything _but_ easterly winds where they
were.  But, he asserted, there was a good time coming; they had had
easterly winds ever since they had started; this, by an unalterable law
of nature, had been gradually creating a vacuum away there in the
easterly quarter, which vacuum must now necessarily soon become so
perfect that, by another unalterable law of nature, the wind would come
careering back from the westward with a force sufficient to more than
enable them to make up for all lost time.

To do Captain Staunton justice he left no means untried whereby to wile
away the time and render less oppressive the monotony of the voyage.  He
suggested the weekly publication of a newspaper in the saloon, and
energetically promoted and encouraged such sports and pastimes as are
practicable on board ship; _al fresco_ concerts on the poop, impromptu
dances, _tableaux-vivants_, charades, recitations, etcetera, for the
evening; and deck-quoits, follow-my-leader, shooting at bottles,
fishing, etcetera, during the day.  By these means the murmurings and
dissatisfaction were nipped in the bud, harmony and good-humour
returning and triumphantly maintaining their position for the remainder
of the voyage.  The newspaper was a great success, every incident in the
least out of the common being duly recorded therein.  The editor was one
O'Reilly, an Irishman, who enjoyed the reputation of being one of the
most successful barristers in New South Wales, to which colony he was
returning after a short holiday trip "home."  The paper was published in
manuscript, and consisted of twenty foolscap pages, which O'Reilly
prided himself upon completely filling at every issue.  Interesting
facts being for the most part very scarce commodities, fiction was
freely indulged in, the contributors vieing with each other in the
effort to produce humorous advertisements, letters to the editor upon
real or imaginary grievances, and startling accounts of purely
fictitious occurrences.

In the meantime two of the passengers had discovered a species of
amusement quite out of the line of the captain's programme, and which
caused that worthy seaman no small amount of anxiety and embarrassment.
In a word, Rex Fortescue and Violet Dudley found in each other's society
a solace from the ennui of the voyage which onlookers had every reason
to believe was of the most perfect kind.  Such a condition of things was
almost inevitable under the circumstances.  There were four ladies on
board, and thirteen gentlemen passengers, of whom no less than nine were
bachelors.  Of the four ladies one, Mrs Staunton, was married and
therefore unapproachable.  Miss Butler was an old maid, with a subdued
expression and manner ill calculated to arouse any feeling warmer than
respectful esteem, so that there remained only Blanche and Violet, both
young, pretty, and agreeable, to act as recipients of all the ardent
emotions of the bachelor mind.  Although the art, science, or pastime--
whichever you will--of love-making has many difficulties to contend with
on board ship, in consequence of the lamentable lack of privacy which
prevails there, it is doubtful whether it ever flourishes so vigorously
anywhere else.  Even so was it on board the _Galatea_; Violet and
Blanche being waited upon hand and foot and followed about the decks
from early morn to dewy eve, each by her own phalanx of devoted
admirers.  These attentions had at first been productive of nothing more
serious than amusement to their recipients; but gradually, very
gradually, Violet Dudley had manifested a partiality for the quiet
unobtrusive courtesies and attentions of Rex Fortescue, which partiality
at length became so clearly marked that, one after the other, the rest
of her admirers retired discomfited, and sought solace for their
disappointment in the exciting sport of rifle shooting at empty bottles
dropped overboard and allowed to drift astern, or in such other
amusements as their tastes led them to favour.  Blanche, however, still
kept her division of admirers in a state of feverish suspense,
manifesting no partiality whatever for any one of them above another.
Indeed she seemed to take greater pleasure in questioning Bob about his
former career, and in listening to his quaint but graphic descriptions
of the curious incidents of fisher-life, than she did in the compliments
or conversation of any of her admirers, a circumstance which caused Bob
to be greatly envied.

Whilst this was the state of things aft, matters were not all that they
should be in the forecastle.  The crew were a good enough set of men,
and doubtless would have been all right under proper management, but,
thanks to the surly and aggravating behaviour of Mr Carter, the
starboard watch, over which he ruled, was in a state of almost open
mutiny.  And yet so acute was the aggressor that for a long time he gave
the men no excuse for legitimate complaint; the utmost that could be
said against him being that he was, in the opinion of the men, unduly
particular as to the set and trim of the sails, and the superlative
cleanliness of everything about the decks.  This was all very well
during the daytime, but when in the night-watches the men were hustled
incessantly about the decks, taking a pull here, there, and everywhere
at the halliards, sheets, and braces of the already fully distended and
accurately trimmed sails, only to be ordered a few minutes later to ease
up the lee braces half an inch and take a pull upon the weather ones; or
alternately stowing and setting the "flying kites" or light upper
canvas, they could not help seeing that these things were done less from
zeal and anxiety to make a quick passage than for the purpose of
indulging a spiteful and malicious temper.

At length a crisis arrived.  The ship was at the time somewhere about
the latitude of the Cape; stretching to the southward and eastward
close-hauled, with a fine steady breeze from east-north-east.  It was
the second mate's eight hours out that night, and although the weather
was beautifully fine, with a clear sky, full moon, and steady breeze, he
had been indulging in his usual vagaries throughout the last two hours
of the first watch (he never attempted anything out of the common when
Captain Staunton or any of the passengers were on deck, as some of them
generally were until midnight), and he began them again within a quarter
of an hour of coming on deck at 4 a.m.  The royals were set when he took
charge of the deck, and these he had separately clewed up and furled, as
well as one or two of the smaller stay-sails.  He allowed the men just
time enough to settle down comfortably, and then ordered the recently
stowed sails to be loosed and set again, which was done.  A short
interval passed, and then he had the royals stowed once more, and
finally he ordered them to be loosed and set again.

Not a man took the slightest notice of the order.

"Do you hear, there?  Jump aloft, some of you, and loose the royals,"
shouted Carter, thinking for a moment that he had failed to make himself
heard.

Still there was no response.

"You, Davis, away aloft and loose the fore-royal.  Boyd, jump up and
loose the main; and you, Nichols, up you go and loose the mizzen.  Look
lively now, or I'll rope's-end the last man down from aloft," exclaimed
the second mate, his passion rapidly rising as he found himself thus
tacitly opposed.

As the last words left his lips the watch came aft in a body, pausing
just forward of the main-mast.

"Look 'ee here, Mr Carter," said Boyd, a fine active willing young
fellow, stepping a pace or two in front of his messmates, "we thinks as
them there r'yals 'll do well enough as they am for the rest of the
watch.  They was set when we come 'pon deck, and that wouldn't do, you
had 'em stowed.  Then you warn't satisfied with 'em so, and you had 'em
set.  _That_ wouldn't do, so you had 'em stowed again; and stowed they
_will_ be for the rest of the watch, as far as I'm concarned.  The
night's fine, and the breeze as steady as a breeze can be, and the old
barkie 'd carry r'yals and skys'ls too for the matter o' that, but if
they was set we should have to stow 'em again five minutes a'terwards;
so let 'em be, say I."

A low murmur of assent from the rest of the watch gave the second mate
to understand that these were their sentiments also upon the subject.

The foolish fellow at once allowed his temper to get the mastery of him.

"Oh! _that's_ what you say, is it, my fine fellows?  Very good; we'll
soon see whether, when I give an order, I am to be obeyed or not," he
hissed through his clenched teeth.

Saying which he stepped hastily to the door of his cabin, which was
situated on deck in the after house, entered, and in a few moments
reappeared with a revolver in each hand.

"_Now_," he exclaimed, planting himself midway between the poop and the
main-mast, "let me see the man who will dare to disobey me.  I'll shoot
him like a dog.  Boyd, go aloft and loose the main-royal," pointing one
of the revolvers full at him.

"I refuse," exclaimed the seaman.  "I demand to be taken before
Captain--"

A flash, a sharp report, and the man staggered backwards and fell to the
deck, while a crimson stain appeared and rapidly broadened on the breast
of his check shirt.

Two of his comrades instantly raised the wounded man and bore him
forward; the remainder rushed with a shout upon the second mate and
disarmed him, though not before he had fired again and sent a bullet
through the left arm of one of his assailants.

The men were still struggling with the second mate when a figure sprang
up through the companion, closely followed by a second, and Captain
Staunton's voice was heard exclaiming--

"Good heavens!  Mr Carter, what is the meaning of this?  Back men;
back, for your lives.  How dare you raise your hands against one of your
officers?"

The men had by this time wrenched the pistols out of Carter's hands, and
they at once fell back and left him as Captain Staunton and Mr Bowles
advanced to his rescue.

The new-comers placed themselves promptly one on each side of the second
mate, and then the two parties stood staring somewhat blankly at each
other for something like a minute.

"Well, Mr Carter," at last exclaimed Captain Staunton, "have you
nothing to say by way of explanation of this extraordinary scene?  What
does it mean?"

"Mutiny, sir; that and nothing less," gasped Carter, whose passion
almost deprived him of speech.  "I thank you, sir, and you too, Mr
Bowles, for coming to my rescue; but for that I should have been a dead
man by this time."

"Oh, no, you wouldn't, Mr Carter," exclaimed one of the men.  "We ain't
murderers; and we shouldn't ha' touched you if you hadn't touched us
first."

"That will do," exclaimed Captain Staunton.  "If any of you have
anything to say you shall have an opportunity of saying it in due time;
at present I wish to hear what Mr Carter has to say," turning
inquiringly once more toward that individual.

Thus pressed, Carter related his version of the story, which was to the
effect that the men had refused to obey orders, and had come aft in so
menacing a manner that in self-defence he had been compelled to arm
himself; and further, that hoping to check the mutiny in the bud, he had
shot down the "ringleader."

"So that is the explanation of the shots which awoke me," exclaimed
Captain Staunton.  "And where is the wounded man?"

"In his bunk, sir; bleeding like a stuck pig," replied one of the men,
resorting to simile to aid his description, as is the wont of seafaring
men generally.

"_Phew_!" whistled the skipper.  "This is serious.  Run, Bowles, and
rouse out the doctor at once, if you please."

Mr Bowles sped to the doctor's cabin, and found that individual already
"roused out," with an open case of surgical instruments on the table,
and a drawer open, from which he was hastily selecting lint, bandages,
etcetera; the medico having been awakened by the first pistol-shot, and,
like a sensible man, bestirring himself at once in preparation for the
repair of damages, without waiting to learn first whether there _were_
any damages to repair or not.

"Well, Bowles," he exclaimed, as the worthy "chief" made his appearance,
"you want me, eh?  What's the nature of the case?"

"A man shot," briefly replied Mr Bowles.

"Just so; heard the shots.  Where is the seat of the injury?  Don't
know?  Well, never mind, we'll soon find out.  Let me see--tourniquet--
probe--splints--lint--bandage--um--um--yes; just carry these for me,
Bowles, there's a good fellow, and lead the way."

So saying the worthy man put a quantity of splints, etcetera, into Mr
Bowles' hands, and, gathering up the rest of his chattels, followed the
mate to the forecastle, where he at once busied himself in ascertaining
the extent of and finally dressing poor Boyd's injury.

In the meantime Captain Staunton, assisted by Mr Bowles, who had
speedily rejoined him, had been holding a sort of court of inquiry into
the case; and after much skilful interrogation, and the giving of a most
patient hearing to the statement of each member of the watch, he had
succeeded in arriving at a very near approach to the actual truth of the
matter.

"This," he said, "is clearly a case wherein both parties have been
gravely in fault.  I am compelled in justice to admit that you," turning
to the members of the watch, "appear to have received great provocation,
inasmuch as there can be no doubt that you have been greatly harassed by
Mr Carter's habit of unnecessarily interfering with the disposition of
the canvas set on the ship.  I have, indeed, myself noticed this, my
attention often having been arrested by the sounds of making and
shortening sail during the night-watches, when you all doubtless thought
me fast asleep in my berth; and I have had it on my mind for some time
past to speak to Mr Carter on the subject; I should have done so long
ago but for my great repugnance to interfere with my officers except
upon the most urgent grounds.  I confess I had no idea that the
provocation had been going on for so long a time; the master of a ship,
like other mortals, requires sleep; and doubtless many things are said
and done whilst he is taking his rest of which he can know nothing
unless they are brought to his notice by others.  It was therefore
manifestly your duty, in justice to me as well as in obedience to the
law, to make complaint to me of any grievances of which you may have
considered yourselves the victims; and that, instead of doing so, you
took it upon yourselves to resent your grievances by refusing obedience
to the orders of your officer, constitutes your offence--an offence
which, in my opinion, has been sufficiently punished by the wounds
inflicted upon two of your number.  You have satisfied me that your
lapse of duty was in reality a matter strictly between yourselves and
the second officer, and in no wise a defiance of my authority, or I
suppose I need scarcely say I should not take this lenient view of your
conduct.  As for you, Mr Carter," the skipper resumed after a pause,
"you have placed me in the very unpleasant position of being compelled
to suspend you from duty until the arrival of the ship at Sydney.  You
have proved yourself incompetent to command a watch with that tact and
moderation which is so essential to the safety of a ship and the comfort
of those on board; and, led away by your heat of temper, you have
hastily and unnecessarily resorted to measures of extreme violence,
which might, had the men been of a similar temper, have led to a
dreadful disaster.  You may retire to your cabin, sir.  Mr Bowles, do
me the favour to call Mr Dashwood."

Young Dashwood was found sitting on his chest, dressed and ready for any
emergency, the entire occupants of the ship being by this time on the
_qui vive_, and he was therefore in the presence of the skipper within a
minute of the mention of his name.  To him Captain Staunton at once
delegated the command of the starboard watch, saying at the same time a
few words expressive of confidence in his prudence and seamanship.

"One word more, men," said the skipper, again addressing the watch.  "I
have suspended Mr Carter not because I regard you as in the _right_, or
as in any way justified in your behaviour, but because he was manifestly
_wrong_.  I must therefore very earnestly caution you, one and all,
against again refusing obedience to any commands issued by your
officers.  If those commands are such as to constitute a substantial
grievance, or if they should by any chance be such as to manifestly
imperil the safety of the ship or the lives of any of those on board, I
am always to be found, and the matter must at once be referred to me.  I
shall always be ready to protect you from tyranny or intemperate
treatment; but remember from this time forward there must be nothing
even remotely resembling insubordination.  Now, go back to your duty."

The men walked quietly away forward, and Captain Staunton, accompanied
by Mr Bowles, retired below to make an immediate entry of the
occurrence in the official log-book.

The occupants of the saloon were naturally greatly exercised by the
event, which formed the staple of conversation next day.  It was
interesting to observe the way in which the subject was regarded by the
various members of the little community.  O'Reilly, the editor of the
"Galatea Free Press," was wild with excitement at contemplation of the
narrow escape they had had from a mutiny and its attendant fight; and he
exhibited a curious study of mingled irritation and satisfaction--of
irritation that the fight had not come off, and of satisfaction that he
had not been compelled to take up arms against any of the forecastle
hands, every one of whom he regarded in his free-hearted way as a
personal friend, and with every one of whom he was a prime favourite.

The ladies, who really understood nothing whatever of the merits of the
case, with that unerring instinct which invariably leads them to a right
conclusion, sided unanimously with the seamen; while a few of the more
timid among the male passengers regarded Carter as a sort of hero-
martyr, Mr Dale being especially loud and indiscreet in his
denunciations of the recklessness manifested in "encouraging the
mutinous rascals in their defiance of authority."

"It will end," he dismally prophesied, "in our all being murdered in our
beds some night.  Oh, dear!  I wish I had never come to sea."  Brook and
one or two more, though they said little, went about the ship for some
few days afterwards in evident perturbation of mind, though, to do them
justice, had they been _obliged_ they would have doubtless fought and
fought well.  Rex Fortescue, perhaps, took matters the most coolly of
any.  He not only went himself forward as usual to hear the yarn-
spinning and smoke his cigar on the forecastle during the dog-watches,
but he also took Violet with him (he having noticed long before that the
presence of a lady was always sufficient to ensure the strictest decorum
on the part of the men); thus showing the crew, as clearly as he could,
that he at least had no doubt of their loyalty.

Carter's suspension from duty removed the only discordant element which
had ever revealed itself on board, as far as the crew of the ship were
concerned; and thenceforward matters went smoothly enough on board the
_Galatea_ for the remainder of the passage, which proved to be a rapid
one, notwithstanding the delay experienced in rounding the Cape.  It was
also an uneventful one--the foregoing occurrence excepted.  Nothing
further need therefore be said respecting it, than that in good time the
ship safely arrived in Sydney's noble harbour, and, landing her
passengers, began forthwith the humdrum operation of discharging cargo.



CHAPTER FIVE.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

At the date of this story the discharging of a cargo was a much more
leisurely operation than it is at the present day; and Bob therefore had
several opportunities of taking a run ashore and looking round the town
and suburbs of Sydney.  The passengers--such of them, that is, as were
residents in or near Sydney--had one and all given Bob most pressing
invitations to visit them whenever he could obtain leave; and on the day
but one following the arrival of the ship, a very prettily-worded and
pressing little note had come to him from Blanche Lascelles to say that
the friends with whom she and Violet were staying at Cookstown would be
delighted to make his acquaintance; so that Bob was never at a loss for
a place whither to direct his steps whenever he could get ashore.  He
consequently managed to see a good deal of the place, and thoroughly
enjoyed the seven weeks during which the _Galatea_ lay in Sydney
harbour.

The outward cargo discharged, the homeward freight of wool began to come
down, and the stevedores were kept busy all day long screwing it into as
small a compass as possible in the hold.

Meanwhile Captain Staunton was in great tribulation.  The gold-fever was
then at its height in Australia.  The precious metal had been discovered
some years before, but about a month previous to the arrival of the
_Galatea_ in Sydney, news had come down the country of the discovery of
a new auriferous region, the richness and extent of which was said to be
something past belief.  The result of this rumour was that every idle
loafer who arrived in an Australian port made it his first business to
desert from his ship and start hot-foot for the gold-fields.  If the
matter had ended here the shipmasters would have had cause to
congratulate themselves rather than the reverse, but unfortunately for
them it was not so.  The gold-fever had stricken _everybody_--merchants
even, mechanics, clerks, all in fact but the few cool hands who realised
that by remaining in the half-deserted towns they were _sure_ of making
that fortune the winning of which at the diggings was problematical; and
one consequence of this was that when seamen deserted a ship no one
could be found to take their places; and Captain Staunton could stand on
his own poop and count at least fifty vessels whose cargoes were on
board, hatches battened down, and everything ready for sea; but there
they lay, unable to sail for want of a crew to man them.

Now the _Galatea_ was not in quite so bad a plight as this; for when the
last bale of wool had been screwed in and the hatches put on, there
still remained in her forecastle eight good men and true--six belonging
to the port watch and two to the starboard--who had resisted all the
alluring dreams of fortunes to be made in a day at the diggings.  The
other eight had deserted in a body one Sunday, very cleverly eluding the
police, whose chief duty it then was to prevent such occurrences.  The
second mate and the cook were also missing.  Hence Captain Staunton's
anxiety.  On the one hand, he was averse to the extreme step of taking
his ship to sea half-manned; and on the other, he was haunted by the
constant dread of losing still more of his men if he remained in port
until he had made up his complement.

At length, however, to his infinite relief, he chanced upon half a dozen
men who, in consideration of the payment of fabulous wages, undertook to
ship for the homeward passage.  They were as lawless and ruffianly-
looking a set of fellows as one need ever care to encounter; but, as Mr
Bowles observed, they could at least pull and haul, and once at sea and
away from the demoralising influence of the grog-shops, who knew but
they might settle down into steady serviceable hands.  At all events
they would not want for a good example on the part of their shipmates,
the remnant of the original crew, for these were without exception
thoroughly steady, reliable men, although one of them was Boyd, the man
who had been shot by Mr Carter for refusal to obey orders.

These men secured, Captain Staunton resolved to avoid all further risk
by sailing at once.  It was true that the ship would be still rather
short-handed--which was all the more to be regretted inasmuch as she was
in light trim and a trifle crank--but he reflected that he might lie in
port for the next six months without securing another man; and it
therefore seemed to him best under the circumstances to make shift with
what he had, and get away to sea forthwith.  Hasty summonses were
accordingly despatched to the few passengers who had taken berths; and
these all coming on board next day, the anchor was hove up, and evening
saw the _Galatea_ standing off the land and heading to the eastward,
with every sail set and dragging at her like a cart-horse.

The passengers were this time only six in number, namely, Blanche and
Violet, Messrs. Dale, Fortescue, and Brook, who had lost the contract
which they went out in the hope of securing, entirely through the
obstinacy of the head of the firm, and a Mr Evelin, formerly a captain
in the Royal Engineers, who had thrown up his commission to go gold-
digging, and who, thanks to his technical training, supplemented by
arduous special study of geology, had been successful to an
extraordinary degree, and was now returning home master of a handsome
fortune.

Launcelot, or Lance Evelin, was a tall handsome man of about thirty-
five, with the physique of a Hercules, the result of some six months'
toil and exposure at the diggings, deeply bronzed, clear cut features,
half concealed by a heavy moustache and beard of a golden chestnut hue,
clear grey eyes, and wavy hair a shade darker than the beard.  He proved
an immense acquisition to the ladies, who would otherwise have been
almost entirely dependent on Rex Fortescue for amusement; Mr Dale being
altogether too savage at his recent failure to make an agreeable
associate, which indeed he never was, even at the best of times; while
Brook, willing though he was to do his best, was too pugnacious, ill-
bred, and illiterate to be more than just barely tolerated.  Rex
Fortescue and Violet, it was perfectly clear, were daily sinking deeper
into that condition wherein people are conscious of the existence of two
individuals only--their two selves--in the whole world; so that poor
little Blanche would soon have found herself quite out in the cold had
not Mr Evelin taken compassion upon her and devoted himself to her
amusement.  He knew London well; and, on comparing notes, it soon
transpired that he knew several people with whom Blanche was also
acquainted; so they got on capitally together, especially as Lance
possessed in an eminent degree the art of making his conversation
interesting.  Later on, too, when he had thawed a little, he would
relate story after story of his adventures at the gold-fields, some of
which convulsed his companion with laughter, while others made her
shudder and nestle unconsciously a little closer to the narrator.

But notwithstanding this Blanche still found time to chat occasionally
with Bob.  The lad was very fond of steering, indeed he had won the
reputation of being the finest helmsman in the ship, and he was always
ready to take a "trick" at the wheel during either of the dog-watches,
and so give the rightful helmsman a chance to stay "for'ard" and amuse
himself with his shipmates; and when this was the case Blanche generally
used to seat herself in a deck-chair near him, and chatter away upon any
topic which came uppermost.

She had been thus amusing herself one evening when, as eight bells
struck and Bob walked forward on being relieved from the wheel, Lance
Evelin, who had been smoking his cigar on the break of the poop, and
watching from a distance the "carryings-on" of the men upon the
forecastle, sauntered to her side and opened conversation with the
remark--

"How singularly exact a repetition of the same features you will observe
in some families; doubtless you have often noticed it, Miss Lascelles?
Now, there is that fine young fellow Legerton, _anyone_ would recognise
him as a connection of yours, and I have often been on the point of
asking you in what manner you are related to each, other.  Am I
unpardonably inquisitive?"

"By no means, Mr Evelin.  It is a question easily answered; I am not
aware that we are related in the most remote degree."

"You are _not_?" he exclaimed in a tone of the greatest surprise.  "I am
sure I most earnestly beg your pardon; how very stupid of me to make
such a mistake; but the resemblance between you two is so very striking
that, although no one has ever said a word to lead me to such a
conclusion, I have never doubted, from the moment I came on board, that
you must be closely related.  I am sure I am quite at a loss for words
wherewith to express my apologies."

"No apology is necessary, I assure you, Mr Evelin," returned Blanche.
"On the contrary, I feel rather flattered by your supposition, for I
greatly admire Robert's many sterling qualities.  And what a bold brave
fellow he is too, notwithstanding his quiet unassuming manner.  If you
feel any curiosity as to his history Captain Staunton will be only too
happy to furnish you with full particulars; he can enlighten you far
better than I can, and the story is worth listening to; the manner of
their first acquaintance especially is a romance in itself."

Lance's curiosity was aroused; but, instead of referring to the skipper,
he preferred to hear the story from Blanche's own pretty lips; and
sinking down into a deck-chair beside her he listened with interest to
all that the fair girl could tell him respecting Bob.

"Poor fellow!" he remarked when Blanche had finished her story, "and he
has never been able to find a clue to his parentage!  It is very
singular; there surely _must_ be relatives of his still in existence
somewhere.  Did the fishermen who saved his life never make any
inquiries?"

"No, it appears not," answered Blanche.  "According to Robert's own
account, though he always speaks with the greatest respect and affection
of the old man who adopted him, the people among whom he was thrown are
very simple and ignorant of everything outside the pale of their own
calling, and it would seem that they really did not know how to set
about instituting an inquiry."

"Well, what you have told me has interested me so much, and the lad
himself has made such a favourable impression upon me, that I believe I
shall really feel more than half-inclined to undertake the somewhat
Quixotic task of seeking his relatives myself when we reach England.
Who knows but that it might be my good fortune to gladden the heart of a
father or mother whose life has been embittered for years by the loss of
perhaps an only son?" half laughingly remarked Lance.

"Ah! do not jest upon such a subject," exclaimed Blanche.  "You
evidently have not the least idea what a complete blight such a loss may
cast upon a parent's life.  I have.  There is my poor uncle, Sir
Richard, who has never held up his head since he lost his wife and child
at sea.  My mother has told me that before his terrible bereavement
there was not a more genial light-hearted happy man living than uncle
Dick; but he has never been known to smile since the dreadful news first
reached him; and though he has always struggled bravely against his
great sorrow, I feel sure he looks forward eagerly to the time when he
shall be called away to rejoin his wife and his baby boy."

"How very sad!" remarked Lance in sympathetic tones.  "I am slightly
acquainted with Sir Richard Lascelles, that is to say, I have met him
once or twice, and I have often wondered what great trouble it could be
that seemed to be pressing so heavily upon him.  If it would not
distress you too much I should like to hear how he met with his terrible
loss."

"I have no objection to tell you," answered Blanche.  "It occurred very
shortly after I was born.  My uncle was then a younger son, with very
little expectation of ever succeeding to the baronetcy, for there were
two brothers older than himself, and he had a captain's commission in
the army.  He had married a lady of whom, because she happened to have
no money, his father strongly disapproved, and a serious quarrel between
father and son was the consequence.

"Shortly after his marriage my uncle's regiment was ordered off to North
America, and uncle Dick naturally took his wife with him.  The regiment
was moved about from place to place, and finally, when my uncle had been
married about three years, was broken up into detachments; that which he
commanded being sent, in consequence of some trouble with the Indians,
to an important military outpost at a considerable distance up the
Ottawa River.

"Of course it was quite impossible for my aunt to accompany her husband
into the wilds, especially as she was then the mother of a son some
eighteen months old, and the question which arose was, What was she to
do?

"It was at first proposed that she should establish herself in Montreal
until the return of the expedition; but a letter reaching her just at
that time stating that her mother's health was failing, it was hastily
decided that my aunt should return to England, taking of course her
little son with her.

"Everything had to be done in a great hurry, and my uncle had barely
time to pack his wife's boxes and see her safely _en route_ for Montreal
before he set out with his detachment for the post to which he had been
ordered.

"My aunt arrived safely at Montreal, but failing to find there a ship
ready to sail for England, went on to Quebec, which she reached just in
time to embark for London.  She had written to my uncle from Montreal,
and she wrote again from Quebec, the letter reaching her husband's hands
as he was on the point of marching out of the fort on a night expedition
against a band of hostile Indians who had been discovered in the
neighbourhood.

"An engagement took place, in which my uncle was desperately wounded and
narrowly escaped falling into the hands of the Indians.  His men
succeeded, however, in saving him and making good their own retreat into
the fort, where poor uncle Dick lay hovering for weeks between life and
death.  After a long and weary struggle his splendid constitution
triumphed; and with the return of consciousness came anxious thoughts
respecting his wife and child.  He remembered the letter which had been
handed to him as he marched out upon that ill-starred expedition, the
letter which he had never had an opportunity to read, and he made eager
inquiries respecting it.  It was found in an inner breast-pocket of his
uniform coat, but it had been so thoroughly saturated with his own
blood, poor fellow, that it was practically undecipherable; by careful
soaking and washing he at last succeeded in ascertaining that my aunt
and her baby had actually sailed from Quebec, but on what date or in
what ship it was quite impossible to learn.  And that was the last news
he ever heard of them."

"How very dreadful!" murmured Lance.  "Of course he made every possible
inquiry respecting their fate?"

"Not immediately," answered Blanche.  "He waited patiently for news of
my aunt's arrival in England; but as mail after mail came without
bringing him any intelligence he grew uneasy, and finally wrote to his
mother-in-law asking an explanation of the unaccountable silence.  This
letter remained unanswered; but just when his uneasiness had increased
to such a pitch that he had determined to apply for leave of absence in
order to proceed to England, it was returned to him through the dead-
letter office.  This decided him at once.  He applied for leave and it
was refused.  He then threw up his commission, and at once proceeded to
England; the fearful conviction growing upon him that something dreadful
had happened.  He stopped at Quebec for a fortnight on his way home,
making inquiry at all the ship-owners' and brokers' offices in the
place, endeavouring to learn the name of the ship in which his wife had
been a passenger; but, strange to say, he could gain no trace of them.
Whether it was that the people of whom he inquired were careless and
indifferent, or whether it was that passenger-lists were not at that
time regularly kept as they now are, it is of course impossible to say,
but it is a fact that he was compelled to leave America without the
smallest scrap of information respecting his dear ones beyond that
contained in the blood-stained letter.

"On his arrival in England he proceeded direct to his mother-in-law's
former residence, to find it, as he feared, in the possession of
strangers.  He then, with considerable difficulty, hunted up the lawyer
who had managed Mrs Percival's (his mother-in-law's) money matters, and
learned from him that the old lady had died some seven months before.
And in reply to his further inquiries he was informed that his wife and
child had never reached Mrs Percival's home.  The old lady had
certainly expected them, the lawyer said, but she had never received
more than one letter which my uncle had hurriedly written mentioning the
fact of their departure for England.

"Poor uncle Dick now found himself completely at a loss; so, as the best
plan he could think of, he put the affair into his lawyer's hands,
handing him also the blood-stained letter.  This letter was soon
afterwards intrusted to a chemist, who, in attempting to cleanse it,
destroyed it altogether, and thus passed away the only clue which my
uncle possessed.  It is now rather more than sixteen years since my aunt
sailed from Quebec, and poor uncle Dick has never succeeded in gaining a
trace of her fate to this day."

"Poor fellow!" ejaculated Lance, in an absent sort of way.  "I'm sure I
sincerely pity and sympathise with him.  What! going below already?
Then allow me to conduct you as far as the companion."

Blanche bade Lance good-night at the head of the saloon staircase; he
raised his smoking-cap, and then returning sauntered up and down the
poop for over an hour, with his hands behind him, and his eyes fixed on
the deck, apparently in a brown study.

A few days after the narration of Blanche's story, Lance Evelin,
noticing Bob at the wheel, strolled up to him and asked him for his
history.

"Miss Lascelles gave me the outlines of it a night or two ago, and it
struck me as so peculiar and interesting that I should like to hear full
particulars," he explained, puffing lazily at his cigar meanwhile.

"Where would you like me to begin, Mr Evelin?" asked Bob.

"At the beginning of course, my dear fellow," laughingly answered Lance.
"I want to know _everything_.  Do you remember being found on board the
wreck?"

"Sometimes I think I do; and at other times I think it must be only the
recollection of a dream which has produced a more than usually strong
impression upon me," answered Bob.  "Now and then--perhaps not more than
half a dozen times altogether--when I have been lying half asleep and
half awake, a confused and indistinct idea presents itself of a ship's
cabin seen through a half-opened state-room door, with a lamp swinging
violently to and fro; of a woman's face, beautiful as--oh!  I cannot
describe it; something like Miss Dudley's, only still more beautiful, if
you can imagine such a thing.  Then the dream, or whatever it is, gets
still more confused; I seem to be in cold and wet and darkness, and I
fancy I hear a sound like men shouting, mingled with the roar of the
wind and the rush of the sea; then--then--I seem to have been kissed--
yes--and the beautiful face seems to be bending over me again, but I am
in the light and the warmth once more; and--then it all passes away; and
if I try to carry my thoughts back to the first circumstance which I can
distinctly remember, I see myself again with other boys, paddling about
barefoot on the shore at Brightlingsea."

"Ah!" ejaculated Lance, contemplatively.  "I have no doubt but that--if
the truth could be arrived at, which of course it never can be in this
world--this dream, or whatever you like to call it, is the faint
recollection which still remains impressed on your memory of some of the
incidents connected with the wreck of your ship--what was her name, by
the by?  The _Lightning_, of London!  Um; that's not a very difficult
name to remember, at all events.  And the beautiful face of which you
spoke--is your impression of it clear enough to enable you to describe
it?  Or, supposing it possible for you to see a picture of the original,
do you think you would recognise it?--Do you mind my asking these
questions?  No; that's all right; but if it is in the least painful to
you, I will not put them.  You see, Legerton, I have very little doubt
that face was the face of your mother; and I confess I feel a trifle
curious to know how far back a man can carry his remembrance of his
mother.  I cannot remember anything about mine previous to my fourth
birthday."

"Well," answered Bob, "I can scarcely remember the face clearly enough
to describe it.  All I can say about it is that it was very beautiful,
with tender loving eyes and dark hair, which I am almost sure must have
been worn in curls; but I think that if ever I saw a really good picture
of it I should recognise it directly."

"You would, eh?" said Lance.  "Very well, now go ahead--if you are not
tired of talking--and tell me about the old fellow who found you, and
the sort of life you led as a fisherman, and so on; it is all very
interesting, I assure you; quite as much so as any of the novels in the
saloon book-case."

Bob accordingly went ahead, his companion occasionally interrupting him
with a question; and when the story was finished Lance rose and
stretched himself, saying as he turned to walk away--

"Thank you very much.  Your story is so interesting that I think I shall
make a few notes of it for the benefit of a literary friend of mine; so
if you meet with it in print some day you must not be very much
surprised."

And as Bob saw him shortly afterwards, note-book in hand; and as this
story actually _is_ in print, it is to be presumed that Mr Lance Evelin
really carried out his expressed intention.

On the day following this conversation the wind, which had been blowing
steadily from the westward for some time, suddenly dropped; and by four
bells in the afternoon watch it had fallen to a dead calm; the ship
rolling like a log on the heavy swell.  Not the faintest trace of cloud
could be discerned in the stupendous vault which sprang in delicate
carnation and primrose tints from the encircling horizon, passing
through a multitude of subtle gradations of colour until it became at
the zenith a broad expanse of clearest purest deepest blue.  The
atmosphere was transparent to an almost extraordinary degree, the slow-
moving masses of swell rising sharply outlined to the very verge of the
horizon, while the mast-heads of a far-distant ship stood out clear and
well-defined, like two minute and delicately drawn thin lines on the
pale primrose background of the sky.

Suddenly, however, a curious phenomenon occurred.  A subtle but distinct
and instantaneous change of colour took place, which made it seem as
though the spectators were regarding the scene through tinted glass.
All the brilliance and purity and beauty of the various hues had died
out.  The dazzling ultramarine of the zenith became indigo; the clear
transparent hues of the horizon thickened and deepened to a leaden-grey;
the sun gleamed aloft pallid and rayless, like a ghost of its former
self; and the ocean, black and turbid, heaved restlessly, writhing as if
in torture.  An intense and unnatural silence, too, seemed suddenly to
have fallen upon nature, enwrapping the scene as with a mantle, a
silence in which the flap of the canvas, the pattering of the reef-
points, the _cheep_ of blocks, and the occasional clank of the rudder-
chains, fell upon the ear with a sharpness which was positively painful.

The occupants of the _Galatea's_ deck glanced from one to another,
dismayed; Violet Dudley's startled whisper to Rex Fortescue of "What
dreadful thing is about to happen?" being but the utterance of the
thought which flashed through every brain.

Captain Staunton, turning to Mr Bowles, who was standing beside him, in
low tones requested that trusty officer to keep a look-out for a minute
or two; and then hurried down to the saloon to consult his barometer.
He returned to the deck in less than a minute, his face wearing a look
of anxiety and concern which was very rarely to be seen there.

"_The glass has fallen a full inch within the last half-hour_" he
muttered, as he rejoined the mate.

Then in a louder tone of voice he added, "Call all hands, Mr Bowles, if
you please, and shorten sail at once.  Stow everything except the lower
fore and main topsails and the fore-topmast stay-sail; I think we are
going to have a change of weather."

The seamen were as much startled as the occupants of the poop, by the
preternatural change in the aspect of the sky; and they sprang to their
posts with all the alacrity of men who anticipate a deadly struggle, and
believe they may have none too much time for preparation.  The work of
shortening sail proceeded rapidly but methodically and in an orderly
manner--Captain Staunton had never before in all his experience
witnessed anything quite like what was now passing around him, and was
oppressed by an undefined foreboding of some terrible catastrophe; but
he was too brave a man and too thorough a seaman to allow aught of this
to appear in either countenance, voice, or manner; nor would he allow
the work to be hurried through with inconsiderate haste; he saw that the
men were startled; and it rested with him to steady them, restore their
confidence, and so prepare them for the coming struggle, whatever its
nature might be.

Meanwhile, the atmospheric phenomena were momentarily assuming a more
and more portentous aspect.  The sky deepened in tint from indigo to a
purple black; the sun lost its pallid sickly gleam and hung in the sable
heavens a lurid blood-red ball until it became obscured by heavy masses
of dusky vapour which had gathered imperceptibly in the firmament, and
now seemed to be settling slowly down upon the ship's mast-heads,
rolling and writhing like huge tortured serpents, meanwhile.  The
silence--broken though it was by the sounds of preparation on board--
grew even more oppressively intense and death-like than before; and
darkness now came to add new terrors to the scene; not the wholesome
solemn darkness of nightfall, but a weird unearthly gloom which was
neither night nor day, a gloom which descended and encompassed them
stealthily and menacingly, contracting the horizon until nothing could
be seen further than half a mile from the ship, and which still seemed
to be saturated with a pale spectral shimmering light, in the which men
looked in each other's eyes like reanimated corpses.  The ocean
presented an aspect no less appalling; at one moment black as the waters
of the Styx, and indistinguishable beyond the distance of a cable's
length, and anon gleaming into view to the very verge of the horizon, a
palpitating sheet of greenish ghastly phosphorescent light.

The canvas was stowed, down to the lower fore and main topsail and the
fore-topmast stay-sail, and the men were about to hurry down from aloft
when Captain Staunton stopped them.

"Clew up and stow the lower topsails as well," he shouted; adding in an
undertone to Mr Bowles, "I don't know _what_ to expect; but it
threatens to be something terrible; and the less canvas we show to it
the better.  The stay-sail will be quite as much as we shall want, I
expect."

The topsails were stowed, and the men came down on deck again, evidently
glad to find themselves there once more, and huddling together on the
forecastle like frightened sheep.

The passengers were clustered together on the poop, standing in a group
somewhat apart from the skipper and the mate, awaiting pale and silent
the _denouement_.  Bob, who had been aloft helping to stow the mizen
canvas, stepped up to them as he swung himself out of the rigging, and,
addressing himself more particularly to Violet and Blanche, recommended
them to go below at once.

"These warnings," said he, "are not for nothing.  The precautions which
Captain Staunton has taken show clearly enough that he expects something
quite out of the common; and the change is likely enough to come upon us
suddenly, bringing perhaps some of our top-hamper about our ears; so, if
you ladies will be advised, I would recommend you to go below where you
will certainly be in much less danger."

Blanche and Violet looked at each other inquiringly.  "_I_ shall remain
here," said Violet, unconsciously tightening her hold upon Rex
Fortescue's arm as she spoke.  "Whatever happens, I would very much
rather be here, where I can see the full extent of the danger, than pent
up in a cabin picturing to myself I know not what horrors."

Blanche expressed the same determination; but Mr Dale hurried at once
to the companion, loudly lamenting that he had ever intrusted his
precious self to the `beastly treacherous sea!'

His remarks attracted Captain Staunton's attention to the party; and he
at once stepped hurriedly toward them exclaiming, "Good heavens, ladies
and gentlemen! let me beg you to go below at once; I had no idea you
were here.  The saloon is the safest place for you all at a time like
this; you will be out of harm's way there, while here--"

"Look out!" shouted Mr Bowles.  "Here it comes with a vengeance.  Take
care of yourselves, everybody."

The gloom had visibly deepened, until it became difficult for those
grouped together on the poop to distinguish each other's features, and a
low deep humming sound was now audible, which increased in volume with
startling rapidity.

"Go below all of you, I beg," repeated Captain Staunton in anxious
tones, "and be as quick as you can about it, please.  What is the
matter, Mr Dale?" as that individual stood a few steps down the
staircase, grasping the handrail on each side, neither descending
himself nor allowing anyone else to do so.

"My book," exclaimed Dale; "I left a book on one of the hen-coops,
and--"

His further remarks were drowned in the deafening din of the tempest,
which at this moment swooped down upon the ship with indescribable fury,
striking her full upon her starboard broadside, and hurling her over in
an instant on her beam-ends.  The group gathered about the companion-way
made an instinctive effort to save themselves, Rex Fortescue flinging
his arm about Violet Dudley's waist and dragging her with him to the
mizen-mast, where he hung on desperately to a belaying-pin.  Brook
nimbly scrambled upon the upturned weather side of the companion.
Evelin, exasperated by Mr Dale's ill-timed anxiety about his book, had
stepped inside the companion-way and down a stair or two to summarily
remove the obstructor, and the two were flung together to the bottom of
the staircase.  Blanche, left thus without a protector, clung
convulsively for a moment to one of the open doors of the companion; but
her strength failing her, she let go and fell backwards with a shriek
into the water which foamed hungrily up over the lee rail.

Bob, who had made a spring for the weather mizen rigging, was just
passing a turn or two of a rope round his body when, happening to turn
his head, he saw Blanche fall.  To cast himself adrift and spring
headlong after her was the work of an instant, and he succeeded in
grasping her dress just in the nick of time, for in another instant the
ship would have driven over her, and Blanche's fate would have been
sealed.  As it was, they both had a very narrow escape, for Bob in his
haste had omitted to take a rope's-end with him, and had consequently no
means of returning inboard, or rather, for the lee side of the deck was
buried in the water, of regaining a place of safety.  In this emergency
Brook, who was a witness of the scene, acted in a very prompt and
creditable manner.  The rope, by which Bob had been in the act of
securing himself, streamed out in the wind in such a way as to come
within Brook's reach, and by its aid he at once drew himself up to
windward, and, climbing out on to the weather side of the ship,
dexterously dropped from thence a coiled-up rope's-end, which he had
taken off a belaying-pin, directly down upon Bob's head.  Bob at once
grasped the rope with his disengaged hand, and with a rapid twist threw
two or three turns round his arm, whereupon Brook, exerting all his
strength, drew his prizes steadily up the steeply inclined deck until
they were able to scramble into the place he had vacated upon the
companion.



CHAPTER SIX.

DISMASTED.

As the hurricane swooped down upon the ship, Captain Staunton and Mr
Bowles sprang with one accord aft to the helm.  It was well that they
did so; for when the vessel was thrown upon her beam-ends the wheel flew
suddenly and violently round, taking unawares the unfortunate man who
was stationed at it and hurling him far over the lee quarter into the
sea, where he immediately sank, being probably disabled by a blow from
the rapidly revolving spokes.  The two officers saw in a moment that the
poor fellow was irretrievably lost, so without wasting time in useless
efforts to save him they devoted themselves forthwith to the task of
preserving the ship.  The wheel was put hard up, with the object of
getting the craft before the wind; and then the two men stood anxiously
watching and awaiting the result.  Two or three minutes passed, and
there still lay the ship prone on her side, with her lee topsail and
lower yard-arms dipping in the water, she would _not_ pay off.

"Bowles," said Captain Staunton, lashing the wheel as he spoke, "make
your way forward; muster the carpenter and one or two of the most
reliable men you have, and bring them aft with axes to cut away the
mizen-mast; we _must_ get her before it somehow; should it come any
stronger she will `turn the turtle' with us.  Station your men; but do
not cut until I hold up my hand."

Mr Bowles nodded his head; and then set out upon his difficult journey,
climbing up to windward by the grating upon which the helmsman usually
stood, and then working his way along the deck by grasping the bulwarks,
which on the poop were only about a foot above the deck.  On reaching
the wake of the mizen-mast he was compelled to pause in order to help
Rex Fortescue and Violet out of their dangerous position, a position of
course altogether untenable now that the order had been given to cut
away the mast.  This, with Brook's assistance, he with some difficulty
accomplished, landing them safely alongside Blanche and Bob upon the
companion.  The slight delay thus incurred threatened to have the most
disastrous consequences; for when the chief mate was once more free to
proceed upon his errand he became aware that the ship's inclination had
sensibly increased, to such an extent indeed that he momentarily
expected to feel her rolling bottom-up.  Glancing aft once more, he
caught the eye of Captain Staunton, who immediately raised his hand.
This the mate took to mean an order to cut away the mast with all
possible expedition; and whipping out his keen broad-bladed knife he
thrust it into Brook's hand, and tapping the lanyards of the mizen
rigging roared in his ear the one word "Cut."

Then without pausing another instant he proceeded as rapidly as he could
forward, much impeded by the continuous blinding shower of spindrift
which swept across the vessel, and compelled to cling with all his
strength to whatever he laid hold of in his progress, in order to escape
being literally blown away.

Meanwhile Brook, who now showed that he was made of far better stuff
than anyone had hitherto suspected, began without a moment's delay to
vigorously attack the rigid and tightly strained lanyards of the weather
mizen rigging, being speedily joined by Bob, who turned Blanche over to
Rex Fortescue's care the moment he saw that he could be of use.
Steadily and rapidly they hacked and notched away at the hard rope,
working literally for their lives, for it was now no longer possible to
doubt that the _Galatea_ was slowly but surely capsizing.  The upturned
side which supported them was becoming every moment more nearly
horizontal, the lee yard-arms were steadily burying themselves deeper
and deeper in the water, and it became apparent that unless relieved,
another minute would see the ship bottom-up.  Mr Bowles, meanwhile, was
out of sight forward, hidden by the gloom and the cloud of spindrift.

At last one of the lanyards was severed by the keen blade in Brook's
hand.  The others attached to the same shroud immediately began to
render through the deadeye, throwing an extra strain upon the lanyards
of the other shrouds, one of which immediately parted under Bob's knife;
then _twang, twang, twang_, one after the other, they rapidly yielded,
until, as the last lanyard parted, _crash_ went the mizen-mast short off
by the deck and away to leeward, carrying away the saloon skylight as it
went.

A perceptible shock was felt as the mast went over the side, and every
one watched anxiously to see what the effect would be.  The
disappointment was extreme when it was seen that the relief was not
sufficient to enable the ship to recover herself; she still lay down
upon her side, and though she now no longer threatened momentarily to
capsize, she neither righted nor paid off.

The chief mate now reappeared upon the poop, having by this time
mustered a gang of men, whom he had left clinging to the main-rigging,
thinking it not unlikely the main-mast would also have to go.

By the time he reached Captain Staunton's side the mind of the latter
was made up.

"It is no good, Bowles," he said; "she will do nothing; we must part
with the main-mast also.  Cut it away at once, and let us get her upon
an even keel again if we can."

Mr Bowles hurried forward, and as soon as he became visible to the men
clustered about the main-rigging he made a sign to them to cut.  The
axes gleamed in the darkened air, a few rapid strokes were struck upon
the lanyards of the rigging, and the main-mast bowed, crashed off at
about ten feet from the deck, and was carried by the wind clear of the
lee rail into the sea.

Another shock, almost as if the ship had struck something, accompanied
the fall of the main-mast, and then, laboriously at first but finally
with an almost sudden jerk, the _Galatea_ swung upright, and, paying off
at the same time, began to draw through the water, her speed increasing
to some seven knots when she got fairly away before the wind, and was
relieved of the wreckage towing alongside.

The well was sounded, and to everybody's intense relief some six inches
only of water was found in the hold.  The pumps were rigged, manned, and
set to work, and the water was so speedily got rid of as to show that it
had penetrated only through some portion of the upper works.

The first mad fury of the hurricane was by this time over, but it still
blew far too heavily to admit of any other course than running dead
before it.  The sea, which had hitherto been a level plane of fleecy
white foam, now showed symptoms of rising, and the aspect of the sky was
still such as to force upon the voyagers the conclusion that they were
not yet by any means out of danger.  What _could_ be done, however,
_was_ done; and the entire crew were set to work, some to get up
preventer back-stays and secure the fore-mast, and others to convert the
spare spars into jury-masts.

The passengers, meanwhile, had made their way down into the saloon
directly the ship recovered herself, where they found Lance Evelin pale,
dazed, and barely conscious, bleeding from a very ugly wound in the
temple caused by his having fallen heavily against the brass-bound edge
of one of the saloon stairs.  Mrs Staunton was doing her best single-
handed to staunch the blood and bind up the wound, with little May on
her knees beside the patient, sobbing as though her tender child's heart
would break, for Lance had taken greatly to the sweet little creature,
and, grave and quiet though he was in general, was always ready to romp
with her or tell her the most marvellous tales.  Mr Dale had retired to
his cabin and shut himself in.  The new arrivals very promptly afforded
their assistance, and in a short time Lance was laid carefully in his
berth, and packed there with flags, shawls, and other yielding materials
in such a way as to prevent the increasing motion of the ship from
causing him any avoidable discomfort.

Dinner that day was a very comfortless meal.  By the time that it was
served the sea had risen so much as to render the "fiddles" necessary on
the cabin table, and even with their aid it was difficult to prevent the
viands from being scattered upon the floor.  The ship, running before
the wind, and with only the fore-mast to steady her, rolled like a
hogshead, and the act of dining was therefore quite an acrobatic
performance, demanding so much activity of eye and hand as to completely
mar the enjoyment of the good things which, in spite of the weather,
graced the board.

The conversation at table turned naturally upon the disaster which had
befallen the ship; the passengers being all curious to know how it would
affect them.

"I suppose it means another beastly detention," grumbled Dale.  "The
ship can't sail all the way to England with only one mast, can she,
captain?"

"Well, scarcely," replied Captain Staunton.  "The trip home _might_ be
made under jury-masts; but it would be a longer and more tedious voyage
than any of us would care for, I fancy, and at all events I have no
intention of attempting it.  Our nearest port is Otago; but as we are
pretty certain to get westerly winds again as soon as this breeze has
piped itself out, and as the current would also be against us if we
attempted to return to the westward, I shall endeavour to reach
Valparaiso, where we may hope to restore the poor old barkie's clipped
wings."

"Umph!  I thought so," snarled Dale.  "And how long shall we be detained
at that wretched hole?"

"It will depend on circumstances," answered Captain Staunton, "but I
think you may reckon on being a month there."

"A month!" ejaculated Dale, too much disgusted to say another word.

"A month!" exclaimed Rex Fortescue, "Jolly!  I shall explore the Andes
and do a little shooting.  I daresay Evelin will join me--or us rather--
for I suppose you will go as well, won't you, Brook?"

"Oh yes, I'll go, certainly; 'tain't often as I has a holiday, so I may
as well take one when I can get it.  But what's them Handles we're to
explore, Mr Fortescue?  Mr Dale 'll come with us too, I'm sure; he's
fond of sleeping in a tent, ain't you, sir?"

"_Don't_ be such a fool, Brook," retorted that worthy.  "If ever we get
to Valparaiso, which I think is very doubtful, I shall go home
overland."

"I am afraid that before you can do that, Mr Dale, you or someone else
will have to bridge the Atlantic," remarked Captain Staunton, as he
leisurely sipped his wine.  "I am extremely sorry for the untoward event
which has interrupted our voyage, but it was one of those occurrences
which no skill or foresight could have prevented, so I think the best
thing you can do is to make as light of it as possible.  Worse things
than being dismasted have happened at sea before now, and I, for one, am
sincerely thankful that we are still above water instead of beneath it,
as seemed more than likely at one time."

So saying the skipper rose, and with a bow left the saloon for the deck.

The sky still looked wild, but there were occasional momentary breaks in
it, through which the lustrous stars of the southern heavens beamed
gloriously down for an instant ere they were shut in again by the
scurrying clouds; and the sea, which now ran high, afforded a
magnificent spectacle as the huge billows raced after the ship, each
with its foaming crest a cataract of liquid fire.  And as the ship
rolled, and the water washed impetuously across her decks, the dark
planking gleamed with millions of tiny fairy-like stars, which waxed and
waned with every oscillation of the vessel.  The fore-mast had by this
time been made secure, and, it being too dark to work any longer to
advantage, the men were busy re-lashing the spars which had been cast
adrift in the process of overhauling and selecting those most suitable
for jury-masts.  Mr Bowles, who had hurried up from the saloon after
swallowing the merest apology for a dinner, had charge of the deck; and
Captain Staunton joining him, the pair began to discuss the future with
its plans and probabilities.

Two days later saw the _Galatea_ making her way to the northward and
eastward under a very respectable jury barque-rig, which enabled her to
show her fore-topmast stay-sail, reefed fore-sail, and double-reefed
fore-topsail on the fore-mast; a main topsail with topgallant-sail over
it on the spar which did duty for a main-mast; and a reefed mizen set
upon the jib-boom, which had been rigged in, passed aft, and set on end,
properly stayed, with its heel stepped down through the hole in the poop
from which the mizen-mast had erstwhile sprung.

The gale had blown itself out; the sea was rapidly going down; the wind
had hauled round from the westward once more; and the ship was slipping
along at the rate of some five knots an hour.  The minor damages had all
been made good, excepting that done to the saloon skylight by the fall
of the mizen-mast, and upon this job the carpenter, who was an ambitious
man in his own way and not altogether devoid of taste, was taxing his
skill to the utmost in an effort to make the new skylight both a
stronger and a more handsome piece of work than its predecessor.  The
barometer was slowly but steadily rising; and everything seemed to point
in the direction of fine weather.  Lucky was it for our voyagers that
such was the case.

The passengers had by this time got over their recent alarm, and were
settling back into their old ways.  Even the impatient and discontented
Dale seemed to have got over to a great extent his annoyance at the
delay which the loss of the masts involved; and, catching the contagion
of the good spirits which animated the rest of the party, was actually
betrayed into an effort or two to make himself agreeable that evening at
the dinner-table.  So amiable was this generally irritable individual
that he positively listened with equanimity to the plans which Fortescue
and Evelin--the latter with a broad patch of plaster across his brow--
were discussing relative to a properly organised sporting excursion into
the Cordilleras--or Andes, as they indifferently termed them, much to
the perplexity of Brook--nor did he allow himself to show any signs of
annoyance when the last-named individual sought to ruffle his (Dale's)
feathers, as he elegantly termed it, by urging him to join the
expedition; on the contrary, to the secret but carefully concealed
consternation of Rex and Lance, the prime movers in the matter, Mr Dale
seemed more than half disposed to yield to Brook's jesting entreaties
that he would make one of the party.  It almost seemed as though this
intensely selfish and egotistical individual were at last becoming
ashamed of his own behaviour and had resolved upon an attempt to improve
it.

Dinner over, the ladies retired to the poop to witness the sunset, Rex
and Lance accompanying them; while Dale and Brook remained below,
lingering over their wine.

"Oh, how refreshing this cool evening breeze is, after the closeness and
heat of the saloon!" exclaimed Violet as, leaning on Rex Fortescue's
arm, she gazed astern where the sun was just sinking out of sight
beneath the purple horizon, leaving behind him a cloudless sky which
glowed in his track with purest gold and rose tints, merging insensibly
into a clear ultramarine, deepening in tone as the eye travelled up to
the zenith and thence downward toward the eastern quarter where, almost
before the upper rim of the sun's golden disc had sunk out of sight, a
great star beamed out from the velvety background, glowing with that
soft mellow effulgence which seems peculiar to southern skies.

"Yes," responded Rex, "it _is_ cool and decidedly pleasant.  Do you not
think it is almost _too_ cool, however, to be braved without a shawl or
wrap of some kind after being cooped up for an hour in that roasting
saloon.  I cannot think why it should have been so warm this evening; to
my mind it was hotter even than when we were crossing the line on the
outward voyage."

Blanche and Lance, who were standing near enough to overhear these
remarks, were also of opinion that it had been quite uncomfortably warm
below, and the two gentlemen, who by this time had arrived at that stage
of intimacy with the ladies which seemed to justify them in their own
eyes for assuming an occasional dictatorial air toward their fair
companions, forthwith insisted on returning below to seek for shawls or
wraps of some kind.

"Phew! it is like walking into a Turkish bath to come in here,"
exclaimed Rex, as he passed through the saloon doors; "and what a
peculiar smell!"

"Yes," assented Lance.  "Smells like oil or grease of some kind.  I
expect the steward has spilled some lamp-oil down in the lazarette, and
the heat is causing the odour to rise.  I hope it will pass off before
we turn-in to-night, for it is decidedly objectionable."

"Do you know, Miss Lascelles," said Lance, as he settled himself
comfortably in a chair by that young lady's side, after carefully
enveloping her in a soft fleecy wrap, "I have an idea in connection with
that touching story you told me the other night respecting your uncle's
loss of his wife and infant son."

"Have you, indeed?" said Blanche.  "And pray, what is it, Mr Evelin?"

"Simply this," replied Lance.  "I have an impression--almost a
conviction--that your cousin is living, and that I can put my hand upon
him when required."

"Oh, Mr Evelin! what is this you say?" exclaimed Blanche eagerly.
"Have you, indeed, met with anyone in the course of your wanderings,
whose history is such that you believe him to be my dear little long-
lost cousin, Dick?  I do not think you would speak heedlessly or without
due consideration upon such a subject; and if your supposition should be
correct, and you can furnish a clue to the discovery of my missing
relatives, you will give new life to my uncle, and lay us all under such
an obligation as we shall never be able to repay."

"Do not place too much confidence in the idea that it would be quite
impossible to repay even such an obligation as the one of which you
speak," said Lance in a low and meaning tone which somehow caused
Blanche's cheek to flush and her heart to flutter a little.  "You are
right in supposing," he continued, "that I would not make such an
assertion without due consideration.  I have thought much upon the story
you confided to me; and, comparing it with another which I have also
heard, I am of opinion that I have discovered a clue which is worth
following up, if only for the satisfaction of ascertaining whether it be
a true or a false one.  If true, your poor aunt is without doubt long
since dead; but your cousin is still alive, and--there he stands!"
pointing to Bob, who was in the waist leaning musingly over the lee
rail.

"Where?" asked Blanche, looking quite bewildered.

"_There_," replied Evelin, again pointing to Bob.  "If my supposition is
correct, that lad Bob is your cousin, Miss Lascelles."

"Impossible!" exclaimed Blanche.  "Oh, Mr Evelin, tell me:--What has
led you to think so?"

"I will," answered Lance.  "But I hope the idea is not very distressing
to you.  It is true that the lad's present position is--well, not
perhaps exactly worthy of the cousin of--"

"Oh no; do not say that, Mr Evelin, I beg," interrupted Blanche.  "I
was not thinking of that in the least.  If Bob indeed prove to be my
cousin, I shall certainly not be ashamed of him--quite the contrary; but
you took me so completely by surprise.  I have ever pictured my lost
cousin as a chubby little flaxen-haired baby boy, from always having
heard him so spoken of, I suppose; and I had forgotten for the moment
that, if alive, he must necessarily have grown into a young man.  But
let me hear why you have come to think that Robert may be my cousin; I
am all curiosity and impatience--woman-like, you see--in the presence of
a mystery."

"Well," said Lance, "you doubtless remember that on one occasion I
remarked upon the striking resemblance he bears to you; and, I might
have added, the still more striking resemblance between him and your
uncle, Sir Richard.  My somewhat bungling remark, as I at the time
considered it, led to your relating to me first the history of your
friend Bob, and then that of your uncle's loss.  As I listened to you,
the idea dawned upon me that Bob and your lost cousin might possibly be
one and the same individual I got the lad to tell me his story, which
was naturally somewhat more full and circumstantial than your own
sketch; and comparing dates and so on, I have been led to the conclusion
that he may indeed prove to be Sir Richard's son.  In the first place,
his age, which of course can only be approximately guessed at, is about
the same as your cousin's would be, if alive.  Next, there is the very
extraordinary likeness, almost _too_ striking, I think, to be merely
accidental; and lastly, the clothes he wore when found, and which are
still in existence, I understand, are marked with the initials R.L.,
which may stand for Richard Lascelles, the name, as I understood you,
which your cousin bore."

At this moment Captain Staunton made his appearance at the head of the
saloon staircase, and calling to the chief mate, said--

"Mr Bowles, pass the word for the carpenter to come aft to the saloon
_at once_, if you please.  Let him look smart."

The skipper then disappeared below again; but not before the passengers,
who _were_ all by this time on the poop, had had time to observe that
his features wore a somewhat anxious expression.

The word was passed; and Chips, who was on the forecastle smoking his
pipe, at once came shambling aft.  At the head of the companion-way he
encountered the steward, who went up to Mr Bowles, said a word or two
to him in a low tone of voice, and then returned below again.

Mr Bowles nodded; stepped quietly down to the main dock, and put his
head inside the door of the deck-house wherein Mr Dashwood was lodged;
and in another moment the second mate came out, followed the chief up to
the poop, and took charge of the deck; Mr Bowles immediately proceeding
below.

No one but Lance appeared to take any particular notice of these
movements, so quietly were they executed; and if he suspected that
anything was wrong he took care not to show it, but went on chatting
with Blanche upon the same subject as before.  It may be, however, that
his thoughts wandered a little from the matter in hand, for once or
twice he halted and hesitated somewhat in his speech, and seemed to
forget what he was talking about.

A quarter of an hour passed away; and then Captain Staunton, followed by
the chief mate, came on deck.  They walked as far as the break of the
poop together, and then Mr Bowles gave the word to "pipe all hands
aft!"

("There _is_ something amiss," thought Lance.)

In less than a minute the men were all mustered in the waist of the
ship, waiting wonderingly to hear what the skipper had to say, for it
was perfectly evident that Captain Staunton was about to address them.
When the men were all assembled the captain turned to the passengers on
the poop, and said--

"Ladies and gentlemen, have the goodness to come a little nearer me, if
you please; what I have to say concerns all hands alike--those in the
saloon as well as those in the forecastle."

The passengers moved forward as requested, Lance taking Blanche's hand
upon his arm and giving it a little reassuring squeeze as he did so.

Captain Staunton then turned himself so that he could be heard by all,
and began--

"My friends, I have called you round me in order to communicate to you
all a piece of very momentous intelligence.  It is of a somewhat trying
nature; and therefore, before I go further, I must ask you to listen to
me patiently, to obey orders implicitly, and above all, to preserve
coolness and presence of mind.  _With_ these, I have not a doubt that we
can successfully battle with the difficulty; _without_ them it will be
impossible for us to work effectively, and the consequences must
necessarily be proportionately grave."

He paused a moment; and then, seeing that every one appeared to be
perfectly cool and steady, he added--

"I greatly regret to say I have some cause for suspicion that _fire has
broken out somewhere below_--steady, now! steady, lads; wait and hear
all I have to say--I repeat I have a suspicion that fire may have broken
out on board; the temperature of the saloon is unaccountably hot, and
there is a strange smell below which may or may not be caused by fire.
It is necessary that the matter should be looked into at once; and I ask
every one here to lend me their best assistance.  In case of my surmise
proving correct _keep cool_ and work your hardest, every man of you, and
then there is no reason whatever why we should not come easily out of
the scrape.  Mr Bowles and Mr Dashwood will each take charge of his
own watch.  Mr Dashwood, get the fire-engine rigged and under weigh.
Mr Bowles, rig the force-pump, get the deck-tubs filled, and arrange
your watch in a line along the deck with all the buckets you can muster.
Gentlemen," turning to the passengers, "be so good as to keep out of
the men's way, and hold yourselves in readiness to assist in whatever
manner may be required.  Now lads, go quietly to your posts, and do your
duty like Englishmen."



CHAPTER SEVEN.

A FIERY ORDEAL.

The chief and second mates had, when named by Captain Staunton, gone
down upon the main deck; and upon the conclusion of the skipper's
address they at once marshalled their watches and led them to their
proper stations.  The third mate, boatswain, sailmaker, cook, steward,
and apprentices were embodied with the chief mate's gang, part of whom
were told off to work the force-pump which was to feed the tank of the
fire-engine, while the remainder were formed into line along the deck to
pass buckets to the seat of the fire.  The fire-engine, which had
luckily been frequently in use at fire-drill, was in perfect order, and
the men knowing exactly what to do, it was rigged and ready for action,
with tank filled, the hose screwed on and laid along the deck, in a
remarkably short time.

Captain Staunton, on seeing that the men were cool and thoroughly under
control, had immediately gone below again to rejoin the carpenter, whom
he had left busily engaged in seeking the locality of the fire, of the
actual existence of which he had no manner of doubt; indeed one had need
only to go to the companion and breathe the heated and pungent
atmosphere which ascended thence to have resolved any doubt he might
have entertained upon the subject.

"Oh, how dreadful!" exclaimed Blanche, turning with white quivering lips
to Evelin, as the skipper disappeared below; "do you think there really
_is_ fire, Mr Evelin?"

"It is quite impossible to say," answered Evelin calmly, keeping to
himself his own convictions; "but if there is, it cannot have yet gained
much hold, and I daresay a half an hour or so of vigorous work with the
fire-engine will effectually drown it out.  And if it does not; if,
looking at the matter in its worst possible light, the fire should after
all get the upper hand and drive us out of the ship, the night is fine,
and the water smooth enough to enable us easily and comfortably to take
to the boats.  Then the boats themselves are amply sufficient to take
everybody without crowding; they are in perfect order and the best
equipped boats I have ever seen; so that let what will happen, I think
we need not alarm ourselves in the least.

"I think, however," he added, the other passengers having gathered round
him, "that it could do no possible harm, and might be of advantage,
supposing that the worst happens, if you ladies were to go to your
berths and make up a package of your warmest clothing, together with any
valuables you may have with you, so as to be in perfect readiness to
leave the ship, if need be.  But take matters quietly, I entreat you;
for I sincerely hope it will prove that there is no necessity for any
such decided step."

The two girls turned away, and went together to the cabin which they
jointly occupied.  Mrs Staunton had already followed her husband below;
and Dale also hurried away, loudly bewailing his ill-luck in ever having
embarked on board such an unfortunate vessel.

"For heaven's sake follow him, Fortescue, and stop his clamour!"
exclaimed Lance; "he is enough to demoralise an entire regiment, let
alone a small ship's company like this."

Rex nodded, and followed his partner; seizing him by the arm and leading
him aft, instead of allowing him to go below as he evidently intended:

Just then the carpenter came on deck, and advancing to the break of the
poop, shouted--

"Pass along the hose, boys, and start the engine.  There is a spark or
two of something smouldering down below, but we'll soon have it out."

The men stationed at the engine gave a ringing cheer and, one of them
starting an inspiriting _shanty_, began at once to work away at the
handles.

"Well, this here's a pretty go, ain't it?" observed Brook, addressing
himself to Evelin as the two stood together at the break of the poop,
watching the men at work.

"A most unfortunate circumstance," replied Lance.  "Luckily there are no
signs whatever of anything approaching to panic; and if all keep as cool
as they are at present, we may hope to get out of this difficulty one
way or the other without mishap.  _You_ seem tolerably collected, Mr
Brook; so perhaps there may be no harm in telling you that I fear
matters are much more serious than they at present appear to be.  All
day to-day the saloon has appeared to me to be extraordinarily hot; and
the presence of fire in the ship now sufficiently accounts for it.  And
if it has been burning for some time, it may prove to have obtained so
strong a hold as to defy mastery.  In such a case it behoves each one of
us to set an example of quiet self-possession to all the rest.  You
behaved so nobly the other day during the gale that I think we may
depend on you not to fail in that respect."

"Oh, _I'm_ all right," returned Brook.  "I don't believe in being put
out about any think; I'm ready to help anywheres; and I'd begin at once
if I knowed where I could do any good.  And if the `governor' (referring
presumably to Mr Dale) makes any fuss, I shall roll 'im up in a blanket
like a parcel and take care of 'im myself."

A thin vapour of smoke was by this time rising from the companion,
accompanied by a strong and quite unmistakable smell of fire; and in a
minute or two more Captain Staunton, in his shirt sleeves, appeared on
deck and called forward for more water.

"There is rather more of it than we at first thought, lads," he said;
"but stick steadily to your work and we'll conquer it yet."

The gang at the fire-engine was rapidly relieved; a fresh shanty was
struck up; the chain of men with buckets got to work; and the quickened
_clank clank_ of the engine handles showed that the crew were still
confident and determined.

"Now is our time," exclaimed Lance to Brook; "cut in here," as a rather
wide gap in the chain of bucket-men revealed itself just at the head of
the saloon staircase; and in another moment both were hard at work, with
their coats off, passing buckets.

Another twenty minutes might have elapsed when Captain Staunton and the
carpenter staggered together up the saloon staircase to the deck,
gasping for breath, their clothes and skin grimy with smoke, and the
perspiration streaming down their faces.

"Send two fresh hands below, if you please, Mr Bowles," shouted the
skipper; "and you, lads, drop your buckets, and lend a hand here to cut
some holes in the deck; the fire is spreading forward, and we must keep
it to this end of the ship if possible."

Two of the most determined of the crew at once stepped forward and
volunteered to go below; Captain Staunton nodded his permission, and led
them to the scene of their labours; while the chain of men who had been
passing buckets along the deck dropped them, and, under the carpenter's
supervision, at once commenced the task of cutting through the deck.
The smoke was by this time pouring in volumes up the companion and
through the skylight.  Lance had been too busy to take much notice of
this whilst engaged in passing the buckets; but now that a respite came
he had time to look about him.  He saw the great dun cloud of smoke
surging out of the companion and streaming away to leeward; and he saw
indistinctly through it at intervals a small group gathered together aft
by the weather taffrail.  He thought he would join this group for a
moment, if only to ascertain whether the girls had succeeded in securing
such things as they were most anxious to save; and he sauntered toward
them in his usual easy and deliberate manner.  As he drew near Violet
rose and said--

"Oh, Mr Evelin!  I am _so_ glad you are come; I was beginning to feel
quite anxious about Blanche--but where is she; I do not see her with
you?"

"She is _not_ with me, Miss Dudley," answered Lance; "what led you to
suppose she would be?"

"Not with you!  Oh, Mr Evelin, _where_ is she, then?  If she is not
with you she must still be in her cabin.  I stayed there until the smoke
was too thick to see or breathe any longer, and then I came on deck.  I
spoke to her, urging her to come also, and receiving no reply thought
she had left without my noticing it; but she is not here anywhere."

The latter part of this speech never reached Lance's ears, for, upon
fully realising that Blanche--"his own sweet darling," as he had called
her in his inmost thoughts a thousand times--was missing, he darted to
the companion-way and plunged down the stairs, three or four at a time,
into the blinding pungent suffocating smoke which rushed momentarily in
more and more dense volumes up through the opening.

On reaching the foot of the staircase, he found that several of the
planks had been pulled up to allow the men tending the hose to get below
the saloon floor and approach as near as possible to the seat of the
fire.  So dense was the smoke just here that it was only by the merest
chance he escaped falling headlong into the abyss.  Catching sight,
however, of the aperture just in time to spring across it, he did so;
and glancing back for an instant on reaching the other side, he saw a
broad expanse of glowing white-hot bales of wool, and, dimly through the
acrid smoke and steam, the forms of the men who were plying the engine
hose.

Groping his way into the saloon, which was by this time so full of smoke
that he could barely distinguish through it a feeble glimmer from the
cabin lamp, he made his way in the direction of the state-room
appropriated to Blanche and Violet.  The smoke got into his eyes and
made them water; into his throat and made him cough violently; into his
lungs, producing an overpowering sense of suffocation, and impressing
unmistakably upon him the necessity for rapidity and decision of
movement.  Blind, giddy, breathless, he staggered onward, groping for
the handle of the state-room door.  At length he found it, wrenched the
door open, and rapidly felt with hands and feet about the floor and in
each berth.  No one there.  Where then could Blanche be?  She was not on
deck, and

Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/21072