The Missing Merchantman Part 17

The quest occupied the two friends for the greater part of the day, they arriving abreast the islet within half an hour of each other, and reaching its friendly sh.o.r.es just in time to a.s.sist the working party there in putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches to quite a respectable structure--half tent, half bower--for which the skipper had acted the part of architect-in-chief. This structure had cost Captain Blyth a vast amount of almost painful cogitation, and was the result of a little fit of excusable, and perhaps natural pique, which had come over him on finding how exceedingly well the two landsmen had managed without him.

From the moment of their being thrust out of the s.h.i.+p to that other moment when he had rejoined them, they had scarcely been out of his thoughts for an hour, and his commiseration for them--abandoned, helpless, and deprived of the priceless advantage of his counsel and experience--was dinned into the ears of young Manners to such a wearisome extent that that officer, dutiful as he was, sometimes felt inclined to wish he had been carried away like Ned by the mutineers, instead of being accorded the privilege of the skipper's society. And now, behold! all the anxiety and commiseration which had been felt for them turned out to have been wasted, thrown away. The two quiet undemonstrative men, whom the honest skipper, when ruefully meditating upon their forlorn condition, had often likened to babes in arms, had proved themselves to be fully equal to the situation in which they had so unexpectedly found themselves, and had indeed managed so exceedingly well that Captain Blyth found himself at a discount; and, whilst heartily welcomed by them, was fully conscious that, save in the matter of purely physical help and companions.h.i.+p, his presence was in no wise an acquisition to them. Hence the little fit of pique, the outcome of which had been a resolve to show these two resourceful men that he, plain, unpretending seamen though he was, knew a thing or two besides how to handle or navigate a s.h.i.+p, and that, even when it came to such a matter as the knocking up of an impromptu house, he was not disposed to give way to anybody. The house, or shelter rather, for it was too rough-and-ready an affair to be worthy of the former appellation, was really a very creditable production--roomy and weather-tight, though it was doubtful whether it would prove capable of withstanding the buffetting of a hurricane--and Captain Blyth was very justly proud of it; and when Gaunt and Henderson (both of whom read the worthy man like a book in large print) seemed to vie with each other as to who should speak of it in the most complimentary and appreciative terms, the fit of pique vanished like snow beneath a summer sun. The wound to the skipper's _amour propre_ was completely healed, and he was once more happy.

On comparing notes it was found that both the explorers had been successful in their search, both had found stone of a more or less suitable quality, some of it, indeed, being excellent; but the honours of the day fell to the doctor's lot, he having discovered not only a quarry-site in a most convenient situation, with stone of a quality far superior to anything that Gaunt had met with, but also an outcrop of coal! This discovery was of infinitely greater value to the party, situated as they then were, than would have been the finding of a gold mine, and Gaunt in particular--who perhaps realised more fully than any of the others the exceeding importance of the discovery--was greatly elated thereat.

Fully alive to the importance of developing these new resources without delay, the five men started in the raft at daybreak next morning, well provided with picks, shovels, crowbars, sledges, and such other implements as it was thought might be useful, together with a keg of powder from the magazine of the _Mermaid_, and made their way up stream, Henderson acting as pilot. The quarry was first reached, being situated only about half a mile above Fay Island, and a single glance sufficed to satisfy Gaunt that here was stone not only of splendid quality, but amply sufficient in quant.i.ty for every possible want of the party. The quarry-face consisted of an almost perpendicular cliff of grey limestone springing out of the soil at a distance of only some fifty feet from the margin of the stream; it was about thirty-five feet in height, and fully one hundred and fifty feet long, and of course of unknown depth, though a very hasty examination of the top showed that it extended fully fifty feet back from the face. Captain Blyth and Nicholls landed here, provided with the powder and such tools as they needed, and instructed by the engineer--who promised to rejoin them, as soon as he had inspected the coal outcrop--began at once to lay bare the stone at the top of the cliff. The rest of the party then proceeded in the raft to the "mine," as they already began to term it, which they found about a quarter of a mile further on. The outcrop proved, as Henderson had a.s.serted, to be a genuine coal, and of very fair quality, too, with a prospect of its improving as it was worked down into; and, most important and fortunate for the discoverers, it, like the stone, was situate close to the river bank, near enough in fact to permit of its being loaded direct on the deck of the raft by means of a long wooden shoot. The doctor and young Manners willingly undertook to "get" such coal as might be required--not a very large quant.i.ty in all probability--and, stripping to the waist, at once set to work, whilst Gaunt, who by this time had learned to manage the raft single-handed, made his way back in that singular-looking craft to the quarry.

On rejoining the skipper and Nicholls, the engineer found that the two men had worked to such excellent purpose that they had already laid bare an area of some forty feet of stone, and disclosed a small fissure which Gaunt thought would serve admirably to receive a blasting charge, which he at once proceeded to prepare. This operation was soon accomplished, the fuse--a chemical preparation "made up" by Henderson the night before--was lighted, and the trio hastily retreated to a place of safety. A minute later a faint _boom_ was heard, followed by a tremendous crash and the rattle of falling fragments; and, hurrying back to the spot, the workers found that, by a lucky accident, the charge had been so placed as to dislodge and hurl down on to the bank beneath upwards of twenty tons of stone. After this there was no further difficulty, for the layers happened to so run that a very little labour with the bars sufficed to send the stone down on to the bank ready for loading; and when any especial difficulty was experienced, a small quant.i.ty of powder always proved sufficient to overcome it. Such capital progress, indeed, did they make, that in less than a month they had not only quarried, but had actually transferred to the islet as much stone as it was thought they would require. By that time a very fair quant.i.ty of coal was also ready for removal; and when this important task was accomplished, a kiln was built, and Gaunt himself undertook the manufacture of lime, whilst Henderson and the skipper proceeded to erect a shed for the storage of the same, Nicholls meanwhile essaying the task of putting up a smithy on the site of the future s.h.i.+p-yard, whilst Manners busied himself in getting out the ground for the foundations of the fort.

But before they were ready to begin their building operations in earnest, the long-expected change of weather--or rather the change of the seasons--had come upon them, and their work was somewhat r.e.t.a.r.ded by the setting in of heavy rains, accompanied by terrific thunderstorms and occasional heavy gales of wind. The course of the wind, too, had changed; for whereas its prevalent direction hitherto, ever since their landing upon the island, had been south-west, it now blew almost unintermittently from the north-east.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE SKIPPER GOES IN CHASE OF A STRANGE SAIL.

The violent atmospheric disturbances which accompanied the change of the seasons lasted about a month, after which the weather became tolerably settled once more, though rain now fell, more or less heavily, every day. To work out of doors in the midst of pelting rain was by no means pleasant, although there was no perceptible variation in the usual temperature of the climate. Still there existed in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of all so strong a feeling of insecurity so long as the "fort" remained unbuilt, that they determined rather to suffer the unpleasantness of being daily drenched to the skin than to protract the uneasy feeling of defencelessness which haunted them.

The building, then, was pushed forward with all possible expedition, and, thanks to the indefatigable energy with which they laboured, was so far finished as to be habitable within a couple of months of its commencement, though of course a great deal still remained to be done before it could be regarded as absolutely secure.

The site for this house or fort--for when finished it really was strong enough to merit the latter appellation--was finally fixed so as to include within its limits a spring of pure fresh-water--an adjunct of the utmost importance if it should ever fall to the lot of the occupants to be placed in a state of siege, and it possessed the further advantage of completely commanding both the land and water approaches to the proposed s.h.i.+p-yard. It was built in the form of a hollow square, enclosing a small court-yard (which the ladies determined to convert into a garden at the earliest opportunity) with the spring in its centre. One side of the house was set apart for the purpose of a general living-room; the two contiguous sides were divided unequally-- the larger divisions forming respectively the doctor's and the engineer's sleeping-rooms, whilst the smaller divisions served as kitchen and larder; and the fourth side afforded ample sleeping accommodation for the remainder of the party, with a store-room in one angle of the building, and the magazine and armoury in the other. The windows all looked outward, but were small, and strongly defended with stout iron bars built into the masonry, and with ma.s.sive wood shutters inside, loop-holed for rifle firing. The doors giving access to the rooms all opened upon the court-yard, and were as high and wide as they could be made, so as to let in plenty of light and air. For still further security there was no doorway whatever in the exterior face of the building, egress and ingress being possible only by means of a staircase in the court-yard leading up on to the flat roof, and thence down on the outside by means of a light bamboo ladder which could be hauled up on the roof in case of need. The roof, or roofs rather, had only a very gentle slope or fall inward, just sufficient to allow of the rain flowing off, and afforded a fighting platform at a height of about fourteen feet from the ground, the defenders being sheltered by the exterior walls, which were carried up some five feet higher and were also loop-holed. It seemed at first sight a great waste of labour to build so strong a place as this for what they hoped would be a comparatively brief sojourn; but, as Gaunt pointed out to them, there was no knowing precisely how long their stay on the island might be protracted, and if they were going to construct a defence at all, it was as well, whilst they were about it, to construct something which should effectually serve its purpose. And after all, when the work came to be undertaken, it was found that it took but little if any longer time than would have been required to put up a wood house, and to surround it with an effective palisade.

Another month saw the fort so far completed that Gaunt thought he might now safely take in hand the saw-mill upon which he had set his mind; and he and the skipper accordingly devoted themselves henceforward to that undertaking, finis.h.i.+ng it within a few days of the date when Henderson reported that all was done at the fort which at that time was deemed necessary. The doctor and his party now took to the woods armed with their axes, and began the important task of selecting and felling the timber for the proposed boat, the design for which Gaunt had been diligently working upon whenever he could find a spare hour or two to devote to the purpose. As ultimately worked out this design was for a cutter, to be of twelve feet beam, forty feet long on the load-water line, and of such a depth as would not only afford comfortable head-room in the cabins, but also give the craft a good hold of the water and make her very weatherly. These dimensions, it was considered, were sufficient for perfect sea-worthiness, whilst the various timbers would be of a scantling light enough to permit of their being handled and placed in position with comparative ease with the limited power at their command. The greatest care was exercised in the selection of the timber, it being necessary to choose not only that which was thoroughly sound, but also such as could without very much labour be conveyed to the saw-mill. This latter necessity, or rather the actual labour of conveying the timber to the mill, caused their progress to be somewhat less rapid than they had antic.i.p.ated, especially as Nicholls was now busily engaged at the smithy preparing the bolts, fastenings, and other iron work for the little craft; but, notwithstanding all, the work advanced with fairly satisfactory rapidity. It had been decided that the whole of the timber should be cut, sawn, and stacked in the s.h.i.+p- yard before even the keel-blocks were laid down, so that it might become at least partially seasoned before being worked into the hull, and this was accomplished in rather less than a couple of months.

At length the day arrived when, everything being ready, the keel of the vessel was to be laid down--a task which, the keel-piece being cut out of one log, it took the little band an entire day to accomplish satisfactorily. And it was on the evening of this particular day, or rather during the ensuing night, that the little colony sustained a loss which plunged its members into grief so deep that its shadow never entirely left them until long after the termination of their sojourn upon the island.

It happened thus. During the numerous pa.s.sages of the raft to and fro between the west bay and Fay Island a small reef had been discovered some six miles north of the island, upon which reef, it had been further discovered, a certain fish of peculiarly delicate and agreeable flavour was to be caught between the hours of sunset and sunrise. So very delicious had this particular species of fish been found, that it had become quite a custom for one or more of the men to take the raft after the day's work was over and go off to the reef for an hour or two's fis.h.i.+ng, thus combining business and pleasure in a most agreeable manner. Captain Blyth especially always partook of the fish with quite exceptional relish; and, it happening at this time that all hands had been too busily occupied for any of them to go out for several days past, the skipper thought he would celebrate so momentous an occasion as the laying of the keel by a few hours' fis.h.i.+ng upon the reef.

Accordingly, as the evening meal was approaching completion, he announced his intention, at the same time inquiring if any of the others felt disposed to join him. All, however, confessed themselves to be too tired to find pleasure in anything short of a good night's rest; and the skipper therefore departed alone, Henderson calling out after him as he went:

"Don't go to sleep and fall overboard, captain; and keep a sharp eye upon the weather. To my mind the wind seems inclined to drop, and if it does it will probably s.h.i.+ft. And I suppose you have noticed that heavy cloud-bank working up there to the westward?"

"Ay, ay, I've noticed it," answered the skipper good-humouredly, but slightly derisive at what he considered the presumption of a landsman in thinking it necessary to caution _him_ about the weather. "Another thunderstorm, I take it--they always work up against the wind; but I shall be back again and safe in my bunk before it breaks. Good-night!"

So saying, Blyth, pipe in mouth, strolled down to the tiny cove in which the punt was moored, cast off the painter, and paddled out to the raft, which rode to a buoy anch.o.r.ed about fifty yards distant from the beach.

Arrived alongside the raft he made fast the punt's painter to the buoy, loosed the raft's huge triangular sail, mast-headed the yard by means of a small winch which Nicholls had fitted for the purpose, cast off his moorings, and began to work down the stream seaward, the wind being against him. He was not long in reaching the open water, and as he shot out between the two headlands which guarded the mouth of the harbour he noticed with satisfaction that the cloud-bank to which Henderson had warningly directed his attention had already completely risen above the horizon, and was slowly melting away under the moon's influence. True, the atmosphere was somewhat hazy, and the breeze was less steady than usual; but the general aspect of the sky was promising enough, and if a change of weather was impending it would not, the skipper told himself, occur for several hours yet, or without giving him a sufficient warning to enable him to regain the island in good time.

Arrived on the reef--over which, by the way, there was plenty of water, four fathoms being the least the party had ever found upon it--the expectant sportsman dropped his grapnel, lowered the sail, and threw his lines overboard. The sport, however, was not by any means good that night, for it was fully half an hour before he got a bite; and the interval which followed his first capture was so long that the skipper's interest waned and his thoughts wandered off--as indeed they very often did--to his s.h.i.+p; and he fell to wondering what had become of her, whether the mutineers had actually gone the extreme length of carrying into effect their piratical plans, whether Sibylla and Ned were still on board, and, if so, how matters fared with them. He was full of commiseration for the two young people, both having taken a strong hold upon his warm and kindly heart, and he scarcely knew which to pity most--whether Sibylla, cruelly and perhaps permanently cut off from all intercourse with her own s.e.x and constantly in a.s.sociation with a band of lawless men; or Ned, likewise a prisoner, with all his life's prospects blighted, and in addition to this the never-ceasing care, anxiety, and watchfulness which he must endure on Sibylla's account.

Most people would have been disposed to say at once and unhesitatingly that the girl's lot was infinitely the worse of the two. But the skipper did not; he understood pretty well, or thought he did, the position of affairs on board the _Flying Cloud_; and he knew to an absolute certainty that so long as Ned had life and strength to protect her Sibylla was reasonably secure. But Ned, he repeated to himself, would always have her safety and well-being upon his mind in addition to his other cares and anxieties. It was a miserable plight for both of them, he mused, and he didn't see how they were to get out of it-- unless, indeed, they could manage to steal away in a boat and give the s.h.i.+p the slip some fine dark night. And what would become of them then?

he asked himself. What chance of ultimate escape would they have? He knew Ned well enough to feel a.s.sured he would never attempt so extreme a step without first making the fullest possible provision for the safety of his companion and himself; but when all was done, what prospect would they have of being picked up in those lonely seas? He pictured them to himself drifting helplessly hither and thither, exposed to the scorching rays of the sun all day and the pelting rain at night; their provisions consumed, their water-breaker empty, and hope slowly giving way to despair as day and night succeeded each other, with no friendly sail to cheer their failing sight and drive away the horrible visions which haunt those who are peris.h.i.+ng of hunger and thirst. He saw Ned's stalwart form grow gaunt and lean, and Sibylla's rounded outlines sharpen and waste away under the fierce fires of hunger; and his soul sickened within him as their moans of anguish smote upon his ear. And at last he heard Sibylla, in her agony and despair, entreat Ned to take away the life which had become a burden to her. And he saw and heard too how Ned, his speech thick and inarticulate with torturing thirst, first tried unavailingly to soothe and comfort and encourage the suffering girl; and how at last, in sheer pity for her and mad desperation at their helpless state, the lad drew forth his knife and stealthily tested the keenness of its edge and point. And as he watched, with feverish interest yet unspeakable anxiety and horror, he saw that the long-protracted suffering of himself and his companion had at last proved too much for the poor lad and that his brain was giving way; for look! the baleful light of madness gleams in his bloodshot eyes! Madness gives new strength to his nerveless limbs as he rises and bends over his companion. As he slowly uplifts his arm its shrunken muscles swell beneath the skin as though they would burst it, his talon- like fingers close with a grip of steel round the haft of the upraised knife, Sibylla closes her eyes in patient expectancy of the stroke, the blade quivers and flashes in the sunlight, and Captain Blyth, with a cry of horror, starts forward--to awake at the sound of his own voice and to find himself at the edge of the raft, in the very act of leaping into the jaws of a shark which is eyeing him hungrily from the water alongside! He luckily checks his spring in time. To seize the boat- hook and strike savagely at the waiting shark with its point follows as a matter of course; and then the skipper piously returns thanks to G.o.d not only for his escape, but also that the events he has just been witnessing are nothing more substantial than an ugly dream.

Blyth's next act is to haul in the lines which have dropped from his nerveless hands during sleep, and which would unquestionably have been lost had he not taken the precaution to make them fast; and he finds to his chagrin that not only the bait but also the hooks have been carried off. He therefore neatly coils up his fis.h.i.+ng-tackle preparatory to shaping a course for home; for the moon is on the very verge of the western horizon, and he knows therefore that it is past midnight.

Moreover, though the breeze is rather fresher than it was and the horizon is clear, there is a murkiness in the atmosphere overhead which portends a change of weather; and as he looks knowingly about him he gives audible expression to his opinion that there will be but little work done in the s.h.i.+p-yard on the morrow.

The grapnel is lifted, and the skipper, attaching the handle to the winch, begins to mast-head the yard of the solitary sail which propels the raft. As he does so his eyes are directed towards the moon, now slowly sinking beneath the horizon. Ha! what is that? The labour at the winch is suspended, a hasty turn is taken with the halliard, and Captain Blyth strains forward, his eyes shaded by both hands the better to observe that black spot which is slowly gliding athwart the moon's pale face. Little need is there, though, for him to look so intently to ascertain what that black spot really is; it is more for the purpose of a.s.suring himself that his eyes are not playing him false, or that he is not once more the victim of a dream. No; this is not a dream. He is wide awake enough now, and his mind is busy with a thousand tumultuous thoughts, for, as he watches, clear and unmistakable glide the upper sails of a large s.h.i.+p across the face of the sinking planet. She is steering south, but whether easterly or westerly it is impossible to say as she stands out black and silhouette-like against her golden background; but one thing is plain--she is moving very slowly. The skipper darts to the compa.s.s--one of a pair saved from the wreck of the _Mermaid_--and striking a match, which he carefully shelters from the wind in the crown of his cap, he manages to take her bearing before she vanishes from his sight. He next completes the setting of his sail, hauls aft the sheet, and, jamming the raft close upon a wind, asks himself what is the best thing to do.

To return to the island will consume an hour of most precious time; and when there what could he do to attract the stranger's attention?

Nothing more than light a huge bonfire; and the only spot suitable for this is the western side of the mountain, to reach which will consume at least another hour. Then there would be wood to collect, occupying say another half-hour, making a total of at least two hours and a half before such a signal could be rendered visible. And perhaps, after all, those on board the s.h.i.+p might not see it, or, seeing it, might not understand its meaning--might suppose it to be nothing more than a fire built by the natives, and so pa.s.s on their way. No; that would not do-- the risk of failure would be too great. What then? There remained nothing, in Captain Blyth's opinion, but to pursue the stranger. She could not, he thought, be going more than five knots, judging by the strength of the breeze and the momentary glimpse he had obtained of her; whilst the raft, light as she was and with the wind well over her quarter, would go nearly or quite seven. The strange sail was about twelve miles off; therefore, if he could overhaul her at the rate of about two knots per hour, he ought to be near enough to attract her attention by sunrise. But he must bear up in chase at once, there was no time to waste in running ash.o.r.e to make known his intentions; and as for help, he wanted none, he was quite capable of managing the raft single-handed. Moreover, he began to suspect that Henderson would prove to be right in that suggestion of his respecting a change of weather, which made it all the more important that the strange sail should be overhauled before the change should occur.

These reflections pa.s.sed through the skipper's brain in a single moment--not perhaps quite so definitely as here set forth, but to the same purpose--and in the next he jammed his helm hard up, eased off the sheet, and bore away upon a course which he conjectured would enable him to intercept the stranger.

For a few minutes after the disappearance of the moon Blyth was able, or fancied he was able, still to distinguish the canvas of the chase looming up vaguely like a dark shapeless shadow upon the horizon; but either the sky grew darker in that quarter or the weather thickened, for he was soon obliged to admit that he could see it no longer. But that circ.u.mstance gave him not the least concern; he had set his course by a star, and he knew that so long as he continued to steer for it, so long would the course of the raft converge toward that of the stranger. He _was_ concerned, however, to notice later on that not only was the weather thickening overhead, necessitating a frequent changing of the star by which he was following his course, but also that the wind was becoming unsteady; sometimes falling away to such an extent as to cause the raft's sail to flap heavily as she rolled over the ridges of the swell, and anon breezing up quite fresh again, but with a change of perhaps a couple of points in its direction, the change generally being of such a character as to bring the wind forward more on his starboard beam. Gradually the haze so thickened overhead that such stars as were not already obscured grew dim and soon disappeared altogether, leaving the solitary man dependent only upon the somewhat fickle wind for a guide by which to steer his course; for though he had a compa.s.s on board the raft, he had no binnacle, and no lamps by which to illuminate the compa.s.s card. It is true the island was still in sight, some four miles astern, but the night had grown so dark and the atmosphere so thick that the land merely loomed like a vast undefined blot of darkness against the black horizon, being so indistinct indeed that only the practised eye of a seamen could have detected its presence at all; it was therefore useless as an object to steer by, even to so keen-eyed an old sea-dog as Captain Blyth.

It had by this time began to dawn upon the skipper that his adventure was likely to prove of a far more serious character than he had at all contemplated; and he was earnestly debating within himself the question whether his wisest course would not, after all, be to abandon the chase and make the best of his way back to the island, when the breeze once more freshened up so strongly, and that too dead aft, that it made everything on board the raft surge again as she gathered way and skimmed off before it. And Blyth, calculating that even if the chase were sailing away from instead of toward him it would shorten his distance from her at least a couple of miles before she caught it, grimly held on his course, determined to risk everything rather than lose so good a chance; his chief fear now being that the sheet would part under the tremendous strain brought to bear upon it by the immense sail. The raft, as has been elsewhere stated, was of very peculiar construction, her shape and build being such as to peculiarly favour speed, especially when running dead before the wind; and, light as she now was, she skimmed away before the fierce squall at a rate which made Blyth's heart bound with exultation as he looked first to one side and then the other and noted the furious speed with which the phosph.o.r.escent foam from under her bows was left behind. There was now no longer any thought of turning back, for, be it said, Captain Blyth--good honest soul--was a devout believer in Providence; and he had by this time arrived at a firm conviction, first, that it was by the special intervention of Providence that he had been led to undertake his fis.h.i.+ng excursion that night, and next, that the freshening up of a dead fair wind just when it did was a second special intervention of Providence to prevent his giving up the chase. And so he held on everything, and the raft rushed away dead before the wind through the pitchy darkness, the mast creaking ominously in its step every now and then, and the tautly-strained gear aloft surging from time to time in an equally ominous manner; whilst the sea rose rapidly--showing that the solitary voyager was fast drawing out from under the sheltering lee of the island astern--and the foaming wavecrests, vividly phosph.o.r.escent, momentarily towered higher and more threateningly, and hissed louder and more angrily in the luminous wake of the flying craft.

The squall lasted a full hour, when the wind died away even more suddenly than it had arisen, and the raft was left tumbling about with little more than steerage-way upon her. The skipper had no means of ascertaining the time, it being too intensely dark to permit of his reading the face of his watch even when it was held close to his eyes, though he made two or three unsuccessful attempts to do so; but, anxious and impatient as he was for the dawn, he knew that it must be at least another hour, perhaps nearer two, before he could reasonably expect its appearance. Two hours more of sickening suspense! One hundred and twenty minutes! With the weather in such a threatening state what might not happen in the interval! If he could only have obtained an occasional glimpse of the compa.s.s, or if the night had been less opaquely dark he would not have cared so much. For in the one case he would have been enabled not only to keep a mental reckoning of his own course, but also that of the chase as well, and to follow her attentively no matter how capricious the breeze; whilst in the other case he might have stood some chance of catching a momentary glimpse of her. As his reflections took this turn he stooped and looked ahead under the foot of the sail; looked more intently; rubbed his eyes, and looked again. What was it he saw? A light--lights? Yes, surely; it must be so, or were those faint luminous specks merely illusory and a result of the over-straining of his visual organs due to the intensity of his gaze into the gloom? No; those feebly glimmering points of light were stationary; they maintained the same fixed distance from each other, and he could count them--one, two, three--half a dozen of them at least, if not more, he could not be certain, for they were so very faint. What could it mean? Was there a whole fleet of s.h.i.+ps down there to leeward? That there was _something_ was an absolute certainty; and as it seemed an impossibility that it could be anything else it was only reasonable to conclude that it must be a s.h.i.+p or s.h.i.+ps. At all events there could be no question as to the course he ought to follow; it would be worse than folly to continue in pursuit of an invisible s.h.i.+p with those lights in comparatively plain view only a couple of points on his lee-bow. So the skipper bore away until the faint luminous spots opened out just clear of the heel of the long yard--which, it will be remembered, was bowsed down close to the deck--and there he resolutely kept them, the wind having by this time fallen so light that it was necessary for him to make frequent sweeps with the steering-oar in order to keep the raft's head pointed in the required direction.

Suddenly, a greenish spectral radiance beamed down upon him from above; and, quickly casting a startled glance aloft, Blyth shudderingly beheld a ball of lambent greenish light quivering upon the upper extremity of the long tapering yard and swaying to and fro with the roll of the raft, much as the flame of a candle would have done under similar circ.u.mstances. Clinging lightly to the end of the yard, it alternately elongated and flattened as the spar swayed to and fro, now and then rolling a few inches down the yard as though about to travel down to the deck, but as often returning to the extremity of the yard again.

Presently another and similar luminous ball gleamed into shape at the mast-head, swaying and wavering about the end of the spar like its companion. They were _corposants_, and whilst they conveyed to the skipper the only additional warning needed of the impending elemental strife, they also at once explained the mystery of the lights to leeward for which he was steering. They also were undoubtedly corposants glimmering from the spars of the strange sail of which he was in pursuit, and which, from her present proximity, must have been steering to the eastward, and consequently toward him, instead of to the westward and away from him, as he had feared.

Blyth believed she certainly could not be more than a mile distant, his conviction being that the feeble, sickly lights of the ghostly corposants could not penetrate further than that distance in so thick an atmosphere, and it now became of the utmost importance--nay, it might even be a matter of life or death for him--to reach the stranger before the hurricane should burst upon them. He looked over the side to ascertain the speed of the raft through the water, and his heart quailed as he observed that, save for an occasional tiny phosph.o.r.escent spark on the surface or a faintly luminous halo lower down in the black depths slowly drifting by, there was nothing to indicate that she had any motion whatever. Her speed was not more than half a knot per hour; and the stranger was probably a mile distant--two hours away at the raft's then rate of progress! Something must be done, and quickly, too; for out of the darkness round about him there now floated weird, whispering sighs, faint, dismal moanings, and now and then a sudden momentary rush as of invisible wings, telling that the storm-fiend was marshalling his forces and about to make his swoop. What was to be done? There were only two oars on board the raft--the steering-oars--and they were so firmly secured that it would be next to impossible to cast them adrift and use them as means of propulsion, even if one man's strength were sufficient to handle them both simultaneously. Moreover, if a little puff of wind should come, as is sometimes the case, before the great burst of the hurricane, they would, one or both, be wanted where they were. Perhaps hailing might be of use. At all events, he would try.

And, placing his hollowed hands on each side of his mouth to form a speaking trumpet the skipper drew a deep inspiration or two, hailed with the utmost strength of his lungs; "s.h.i.+p ahoy-oy!"

And then listened.

No response. Nothing save the faint murmurings and railings of the gathering gale.

"_s.h.i.+p ahoy-oy_!"

Hark! what was that? Did he, indeed, hear a faint answering halloo from away yonder in the direction of those weird lights, or was it merely that the wish was father to the thought?

"Sh-i-ip A--hoy-oy-oy!"

"_Halloo_!"

Quite unmistakable this time; and the skipper, in a perfect frenzy of excitement, repeats his hail time after time, waiting only long enough to receive the answer before hailing again. Presently a bright star suddenly appears under the faintly gleaming corposants. It is a s.h.i.+p's lantern held up over the rail. A minute later a tiny spark appears close to the lantern, immediately bursting into a keen bluish glare from which a cloud of white smoke arises and flakes of blue-white flame drop now and then as a port-fire is burnt. By its brilliant though ghostly radiance the skipper can see, less than half a mile distant, a brig under nothing but close-reefed main-topsail and fore-topmast staysail-- evidently fully prepared for the worst that can come to her in the shape of weather--with a little group of figures gathered about the port-fire, and a smaller group, consisting of two men only, abaft the main-rigging, all peering eagerly in his direction.

He sees one of the figures raise his arms; and presently there comes floating across the inky water:

"Halloo, there! Who hails?"

The skipper again raises his hands to his mouth, draws a mighty inspiration, and replies, as the readiest means of bringing succour to him:

"s.h.i.+pwrecked m-a-an. Broad--on--your--port--b-ea-eam!"

The figure who had hailed waves his hand to show that he has heard; and just at that moment the port-fire burns out. Another is quickly ignited, however; and as the blue-white glare once more illumines the brig Blyth sees that there is but one man now on the forecastle--the man who holds aloft the port-fire--and that the rest are gathered aft, busy about the davit-tackles by which a boat is suspended on the larboard quarter.

At this moment the whole firmament from zenith to horizon is rent asunder, and for a single instant the entire universe seems to have been set on fire by the fierce blaze of the lightning which flashes from the rent, whilst the accompanying thunder crash is so deafening that even the skipper, seasoned as he is, quails beneath the shock of it. For a single instant the sea and everything upon it, from horizon to horizon, is illumined by a light brighter than that of day; and in that single instant Blyth sees not only the brig, enveloped in a perfect network of fire, but also the huge piles of cloud overhead, twisted and distorted into a hundred fantastic shapes by the forces at work within them, and the black glistening water, carved into countless hollows and ridges by the agitation of its surface; the whole apparently motionless as if modelled in metal. Then comes the blackness of darkness, so thick and impenetrable that the half-stunned skipper, scarcely conscious of where he is, dares not move by so much as a single footstep lest he should step overboard. The next moment down comes the rain, not in drops, not even in sheets of water, but in a perfectly overwhelming deluge of such density and volume that Blyth, bowing to his knees beneath it, gasps and chokes like a drowning man.

But he speedily recovers his senses--he had need to, for he will soon want them all--and, staggering to his feet, makes toward the mast, which with the yard and dripping sail is now distinctly outlined against the milky background of sea, milky by reason of the phosph.o.r.escence of its surface being lashed into luminosity by the pouring rain. He grasps the halliard of the sail, and with feverish haste proceeds to cast it adrift from its belaying-pin, murmuring the while:

"Now G.o.d be merciful to me, a sinner: for I am too late. The time for rescue is past!"

With utmost haste, yet with all the coolness and skill of a finished seaman, he lowers the sail on deck and proceeds to secure it as well as he can, for he knows only too well what the next act in the drama will be; he knows, too, that those on board the brig--invisible now--are as well versed as himself, and are at this moment far too busily engaged in preparing for the stroke of the hurricane to have a thought to spare for him.

Now the rain stops as suddenly as it began, and an awful silence ensues, scarcely broken even by the lap of the water alongside, for the terrific downpour has completely beaten down the swell, and, save for an occasional gentle heave, the raft lies motionless.

Now stand by! Summon all your nerve and all your courage to your aid, skipper, for you never stood half so sorely in need of them as you do now. And, above all, lift up your heart to G.o.d in fervent prayer, be it ever so brief. Call upon Him whilst you have time; for time, so far as you are concerned, may soon be merged in eternity!

Listen! What is that low murmur in the air which so rapidly increases in volume until it becomes a deep, hoa.r.s.e, bellowing roar? The sound is broad on your starboard beam, skipper! Aft to your steering-oar for your life, man; sweep her head round quick, in readiness to run before it! That is well; round with her; again; another stroke. _Now_ stand by! here it comes! Seize that rope's-end and hold on for your life!