Will Weatherhelm Part 25

Having taken a cheerless supper, for our spirits had sunk very low, we sat still in our places without speaking. The rain came down on us and wetted us through and chilled us to the bones, and the weather grew thicker and thicker. Sometimes we could scarcely see a yard ahead, and we ran a great risk of being run down by a vessel, or of running into one. Still we could do nothing further to help ourselves.

Away we flew into the pitchy darkness, the seas hissing and roaring around us, the boat tumbling and tossing about, now in the trough of a sea, now on the summit, surrounded by dense ma.s.ses of foam, which seemed at times completely to wrap us up--the wind howling, and the rain coming down in torrents, sufficient of itself to swamp the boat.

Either La Motte or Andrews or I sat at the helm, and very nice steering it required to keep the boat from swamping. We lighted the binnacle lamp to enable us to keep as near as we could to our proper course. We had also our lantern ready to show as a signal in case we were able to make out any vessel approaching us.

I had been in many perils, as I have described, but none of them seemed greater than those I went through on that night. Often I thought that the boat could not possibly swim another minute. Often she was almost gunwale under before we could luff up in time to ease her. Now a huge black sea came roaring up, which I thought must come down and swamp us; but it broke just before it reached the boat and merely sent the foam flying over our heads. Thus hour after hour pa.s.sed slowly away. Some of the men began to grumble, and to blame themselves for their folly in leaving the privateer.

Andrews declared that it would have been better if we had cut out a vessel, as at all events we should have been on board a craft fit to combat the gale. La Motte, with more justice, remarked, that it was a pity they had not consented to follow his suggestion, and to run for Guernsey while we could have done so.

"But why not run there now?" asked some one.

"Because the whole island is surrounded by rocks, and it would be next to a miracle if we escaped running on them," he answered. "Our only course now is to stand on. Perhaps the wind will once more s.h.i.+ft, and we may be able, after all, to keep our course for England."

Never have I felt the hours draw on so slowly as they did during that dreadful night. Still no new hour brought any change for the better. I thought the morning never would come. As for sleep, that was out of the question, nor did any of us feel an inclination for food. I believe that not one of the party ever expected to see the sun rise again to cheer our hearts.

Yet, in spite of our apprehensions, the little boat behaved beautifully.

Each sea, as it came roaring up, she surmounted like a wild fowl, and though down she plunged into the trough, it was but to rise again in triumph to the summit.

At length the rain ceased, but it blew as hard as ever. I was looking eastward, when a pale, thin line appeared in the sky, just above the horizon. It grew broader and broader, and brighter and brighter, and we know it was dawn. Those who had thought that they should never again see the sun rise, now felt that they ought not to have desponded.

First, more cold, silvery lines appeared in the sky, and then yellow lines, which warmed into orange, and pink, and red; and a small portion of the sun himself broke forth between the clouds, and sent a bright beam of glittering gold across the dancing waves, but quickly again he was hidden above the leaden canopy which hung over us.

Few of us had ever pa.s.sed a more trying night, and we all felt grateful for the mercy which had been shown us, and, as if by common agreement, we all with one accord offered up our thanks to Heaven, and prayed that we might yet further be preserved through the dangers which surrounded us. Wild and careless as sailors too often are, there are times when they exhibit a true and unaffected piety, and when they are not ashamed of exhibiting their feelings to their fellow-men. This was one of those occasions.

We were all aware that we had pa.s.sed through a night of great peril, and we knew that we had, in all probability, many more dangers to go through, in which all our knowledge, and strength, and bravery could avail us nothing. Our weakness and helplessness was thus forcibly brought home to us--our own utter insufficiency to help ourselves. It is this feeling, which every seaman must at times have to experience, which has so beneficial an effect on him in turning his heart to G.o.d, in making him, in spite of himself, acknowledge the superintending care of the Creator.

As daylight came on, we looked round the horizon, more especially to the southward, but not a sail was in sight. We felt sure that, at all events, we were not pursued. Had the wind continued from the southward, we might have fallen in with some homeward-bound s.h.i.+p, but it was not likely that we should now meet with one. Having a.s.sured ourselves that no change was likely to take place immediately in our prospects, we served out our frugal breakfast.

La Motte and I agreed that it would be wiser at once to put ourselves on short allowance, for we could not tell how long we might be kept out.

To this all the rest cheerfully a.s.sented. I had for some time been watching the sky to the eastward. When the sun rose, the wind went down, but I did not like a wide break in the clouds which suddenly appeared. The rent I had observed grew larger and larger, till the whole eastern sky was bright and clear. I felt too sure that it betokened an easterly gale. I pointed out what I had observed to La Motte. He was of my opinion.

We were not mistaken. Down it came before long, strong and bitterly cold, tearing up the surface of the sea, and sending the foam flying like vast snowdrifts before it. We were almost frozen with the cold and wet. We wrapped ourselves up as best we could in our blankets and greatcoats, but even with this aid we were well-nigh perished. We had no means of lighting a fire and warming up anything by which we might restore circulation. The gale increased. Away the boat flew before it, out to sea, away from land, away from all help.

Bitter was our disappointment. How could we hope to get back? how obtain relief? Our condition was bad indeed. Some of the men had been expressing a wish to endeavour to reach Guernsey. They now, with reproaches on themselves, acknowledged their folly in not having, when at the proper time, accepted La Motte's offer to take them there.

Fiercer and fiercer blew the easterly gale, every cloud disappeared, but yet the sky was not bright, nor did the rays of the sun give any warmth.

A gauze-like veil overspread the sky, while we were surrounded by a thin mist of spray, which together completely prevented the sun's beams from reaching us.

Our utmost exertions were required to keep the boat before the sea, and to bale out the water which continually washed into her. Those of us who were not thus actively employed sat with our greatcoats and blankets huddled up round us, the pictures of misery. Want of sleep and warm food made us feel the cold still more severely, and, in spite of our wraps, we were chilled to the very bones. Our teeth chattered and our limbs shook as if we had been afflicted with the ague. We could no longer keep up our spirits by conversation. What possible grounds had we for hope. All we could expect was to run on till the boat was swamped, or till one after the other of us dropped off and died from cold, starvation, and exhaustion.

La Motte struggled on bravely to prevent himself from giving in, while at the same time he exerted himself to keep up the spirits of the rest.

His example inspired me to arouse myself, and I endeavoured to aid him in encouraging our companions.

"Hurrah, my lads!" he suddenly shouted. "As long as there's life there's hope--remember that. Death's door is not open yet. Don't be knocking to get in before you are invited. What are we afraid of? We have a tight boat under us, and provisions enough to last us for several days to come. We had got a long way to the nor'ard before this easterly gale sprung up, and we can't be so very far off the Land's End or the Scilly Islands. This sort of gale never lasts long. It will blow itself out in a day or two, and then we may haul up and stand in for the land. Many men have been in a far worse state than that we are in, and have got well out of it. Why should we fancy that we are going to be lost? Cheer up, I say. Can any of you sing? Andrews, you can. Come, out with a song, lad. You shake your head. Come, I'll help you." And, with a voice which sounded full and clear amid the hissing roar of the gale, La Motte struck up a cheering, merry song, well calculated to arouse even the most apathetic from the lethargy into which they were sinking.

Andrews, inspired by the strains, followed his example, as did several other of the men, and away we flew over the waves, singing cheerfully, with, as it were, the jaws of death gaping wide on either side to catch us.

Now La Motte sang a more solemn strain; it was a psalm. All of us joined heartily in it. We prayed that G.o.d would protect us amid the dangers which surrounded us, and then we expressed our full confidence in His mercy and goodness. That did us more good than the lighter songs. It was certainly more in accordance with our feelings; yet, perhaps, La Motte took the best means for arousing the people from the lethargy which was overpowering them.

It has often struck me that people, when they are singing psalms, are too apt to forget that they are praying, or praising G.o.d, or returning thanks for mercies received. They seem to forget the meaning of the words, and to think only of the music. They do not sing sufficiently with their hearts. That was not the case with us in that storm-driven boat. The music was, I daresay, very imperfect, but never did men enter more heartily into the spirit of the psalm than did we on that occasion.

Andrews and another man belonged to Cornwall, and had in their youth been accustomed to sing psalms in the congregations of their people, as had two or three of the other men, though for many a long year of their sea life the custom had been sadly neglected. Now, when they felt conscious that they might never have an opportunity of again singing while alive, they joined with their whole heart and soul in the work.

Thus the day pa.s.sed away.

The night was approaching. We had reason to dread it as much as we had the previous one, except that the sky being clear, there was more light to enable us to avoid any danger in our course. We took a frugal supper and a cup of cold water, all we dared consume of our scanty stores.

Drowsiness now began to overcome most of us. I felt myself capable of keeping awake better than any of the rest, for I saw that even La Motte was giving way. I therefore urged him to let me take the helm while he lay down. To this he consented. Andrews and I wrapped him up in a blanket, and in an instant he was fast asleep showing how much self-command he must have exercised to keep awake at his post. In the meantime, while two men continued baling and one kept a look-out ahead, the rest stretched their limbs as well as they could along the thwarts of the boat and went to sleep. My fear was that they might not be able again to arouse themselves. Strange, indeed, were my feelings as I sat in the stern of the boat while she flew hissing along over the foaming waves and plunging into the dark unknown. I looked up into the clear sky, glittering with innumerable stars, and my mind wandered from the present world to the wonders of eternity, which the scene I gazed on seemed to picture forth. I forcibly felt the insufficiency of this world to satisfy to the full the aspirations of man's soul; and the reality of the life to come, and all that that life will have to show, impressed itself more vividly on my mind than it had ever before done.

The glories of the eternal future put to flight all fears for the present perishable body.

Still, I did not neglect my duty to my companions. I did my best to keep my mates of the watch awake. I watched the seas as they came rolling up on either side, so that I might keep the boat steadily before the wind. Thus the first watch pa.s.sed by. I had not the heart to call La Motte. I told the other three men to arouse up their companions, and I resolved to keep awake for a couple of hours more. An hour after this it might have been, as I turned my head over my right shoulder, I caught sight of a huge towering ma.s.s close aboard, as it seemed.

It was a large s.h.i.+p. On she came. I felt sure that our last moments had arrived. There was no use shouting. The other men looked up.

Terror kept them dumb. Had we indeed strained our voices till they cracked, no one would have heard us on board the s.h.i.+p. The dark pyramid of canvas seemed to reach up to the very clouds as she flew along, careering before the gale.

In another moment I thought we should have been run down, and struggling under her vast keel, but my eye had deceived me. She dashed on; but instead of her stem striking us, her broadside appeared on our starboard hand. She was a line-of-battle s.h.i.+p of the largest cla.s.s. Then, indeed, we found our voices and shouted, and perhaps the sentries or look-outs might have heard us; but away she rushed, like some monstrous phantom of a dream, and, mighty as she was, she quickly disappeared in the darkness ahead. Our companions, who had been awoke by our shouting, lifted up their heads, but as the s.h.i.+p pa.s.sed by, lay them down again, probably under the belief that what they had seen was merely the effect of their imagination.

La Motte remained awake. "What is the hour?" he asked. I told him. He therefore insisted on my taking his place, though I saw that he had some difficulty in unbending his limbs from the position they had a.s.sumed while he was sleeping. In an instant I was asleep. It was daylight when I was once more aroused to take the helm. I found that there was a sail in sight, just rising above the horizon in the north-east, but we could not tell in what direction she was standing.

The morning pa.s.sed as had the former one. Our attention was kept awake by watching the progress of the strange sail. Her topsails rose above the horizon, then her courses appeared, and it became very clear that she was sailing on a parallel course with us. At the distance we were from her, we could not have been distinguished from the white crest of a rising wave, so that we knew it was useless to hope for any a.s.sistance from her. Trying, indeed, it was to watch her gliding by us.

Sometimes, when she rose on the top of a sea, and rolled from side to side as she ran before the wind, we could see her copper glancing brightly in the sunbeams, and could almost count her ports; yet we ourselves, we knew, could scarcely have been seen, even had any on board been looking out for us. On she went, her crew rejoicing in the fair breeze which was carrying them on to their destined port, while we were grieving at being driven away from ours.

"'It's an ill wind that blows no one good,' remember that, mates," said La Motte. "We may get the fair breeze before long."

Scarcely had the stranger disappeared in the western horizon when another sail rose in the east out of the water. We watched her even with greater eagerness than before. We fancied that we could not again be doomed to disappointment.

"She is more, I think, to the southward than the other s.h.i.+p," said Andrews. "She'll pa.s.s not far to the nor'ard of us, and can't help seeing us."

I watched the new-comer attentively, but could not agree with Andrews.

She appeared to me to be following exactly in the track of the former vessel. I earnestly hoped that I might be wrong in my opinion. The s.h.i.+p came on, rapidly overtaking us. We ought to have found cause for satisfaction when we thus had evidence that we could not be driving fast to the eastward, and that when we came to haul up we should still find ourselves at no great distance from the Cornish coast.

We waited, anxiously watching the s.h.i.+p; but all differences of opinion were soon settled when she appeared abeam, fully as far off as the former one. As our hopes had risen to a high pitch, so they now fell proportionately low. I began to fear that despondency would seize on all hands. The s.h.i.+p came up on our quarter; then she got abeam of us.

We could see her as clearly as we had seen the former one. Some of our people shouted and waved their hats and caps. No answering signal was made. Again they shouted and shrieked out till they were hoa.r.s.e. Their cries and their signals were equally vain. Those on board could probably scarcely have seen the boat even had they been looking for her, and of course our shouts would not have reached one-tenth part of the distance. The s.h.i.+p glided quickly on. She pa.s.sed us altogether, and, like her predecessor, disappeared in the western horizon. As she was leaving us, some of the men lost all command of their feelings and broke forth into imprecations loud and deep, and abused the s.h.i.+p and all on board her, as if they were to blame for not having seen us. I saw that in their present state of mind there would be no use finding fault with them, so I tried to cheer them up.

"Never mind, mates," said I. "We should not have been much better off if we had got on board those s.h.i.+ps. They are outward-bound, and must have carried us wherever they are going, and perhaps we might have had to go half-way round the world before we could get home again. Let us wait till we sight a s.h.i.+p bound up Channel, and then if we miss her we may have reason to complain."

The remarks I made seemed to have some effect, for I heard no more complaints for some time. The day wore on and no other vessel pa.s.sed us. A change in the weather began to take place as the evening drew on.

The wind lessened considerably during the afternoon, and as night approached it dropped into a perfect calm. Still there was a good deal of sea, and we had more difficulty than ever in keeping the boat from being swamped. We got the oars out, but we found that we had lost so much strength that we could scarcely use them. However, we managed to pull the boat's head round, and once more endeavoured to keep a course towards the north-east.

Yet exert ourselves as we might, we found that we could only just keep the boat's head to the sea, and that we were utterly unable to move her through the water. Gradually the sea went down, and at last most of the men declared that they neither would nor could pull any longer, and that we should gain nothing by it, as very likely the wind would s.h.i.+ft again to its old quarter, and drive us back once more all the distance we had thus made good.

La Motte and I endeavoured to cheer them up, but all our attempts were vain. We saw ourselves that they were too likely to be right, and indeed we could not help sharing in their despondency. I scarcely know how the night pa.s.sed. It did pa.s.s, however, and so did another day. It was a perfect calm; we did not move. All our oars were laid in, and the men threw themselves along the thwarts, and declared that they should sleep there till some vessel should pa.s.s near enough to take us on board.

Our stock of food had diminished very much, and I feared, on examining it, that we should scarcely have enough to carry us to the English coast, even should a breeze spring up from the southward to help us along. No one now took much count of time. I fell asleep during the night, and so did La Motte, and I believe that no look-out was kept. We might have been run over without our making an attempt to save our lives.

Another day broke at last. There was a light wind, but it was from the south-east. We hoisted our sail, though we had scarcely sufficient strength to get it up. However, we made but little progress. I had fallen asleep, when I was aroused by the voices of my companions shouting as loudly as their strength would allow. The tones sounded strangely hollow and weak. I was scarcely aware that my own voice was much like theirs.

I looked up to see what had produced these shouts. A large s.h.i.+p was bearing down towards us from the eastward. We had our whole sail set, and as the sun shone on it, I hoped that we might now possibly be seen.

I was not so sanguine as some of the men had suddenly become on seeing the s.h.i.+p. I knew that too often a very slack look-out is kept on board many s.h.i.+ps, and even then only just ahead to see that no vessel is in the way or likely to get there. The topsails and more than half the courses of the stranger had already appeared above the horizon. We rose them rapidly. By the time that we could see her hull, I judged from the cut of her sails that she was certainly not an English s.h.i.+p.

"She is very like a French vessel," observed La Motte after watching her earnestly for some time. "Still, she does not look like a s.h.i.+p of war, that is one comfort." It was very certain, at all events, that she was standing directly for us, and that there was no chance of our missing her.

"Now, mates, just make up your minds what we shall do," said La Motte; "shall we go on board her whatever she is, or wherever she is going, or shall we remain in the boat and still endeavour to make the English coast?"