Foul Play [46]
got flurried and ran from one thing to another. Now and then a man would stop and burst out crying; then to work again in a desperate way. One or two lost heart altogether, and had to be driven. Finally, one or two succumbed under the unremitting labor. Despair crept over others. Their features began to change, so much so that several countenances were hardly recognizable, and each, looking in the other's troubled face, saw his own fate pictured there.
Six feet water in the hold!
The captain, who had been sober beyond his time, now got dead drunk.
The mate took the command. On hearing this, Welch and Cooper left the pumps. Wylie ordered them back. They refused, and coolly lighted their pipes. A violent altercation took place, which was brought to a close by Welch.
"It is no use pumping the ship," said he. "She is doomed. D'ye think we are blind, my mate and me? You got the long-boat ready for yourself before ever the leak was sprung. Now get the cutter ready for my mate and me."
At these simple words Wylie lost color, and walked aft without a word.
Next day there were seven feet water in the hold, and quantities of bread coming up through the pumps.
Wylie ordered the men from the pumps to the boats. The long-boat was provisioned and lowered. While she was towing astern, the cutter was prepared, and the ship left to fill.
All this time Miss Rolleston had been kept in the dark, not as to the danger, but as to its extent. Great was her surprise when Mr. Hazel entered her cabin and cast an ineffable look of pity on her.
She looked up surprised, and then angry. "How dare you?" she began.
He waved his hand in a sorrowful but commanding way. "Oh, this is no time for prejudice or temper. The ship is sinking. We are going into the boats. Pray make preparations. Here is a list I have written of the things you ought to take. We may be weeks at sea in an open boat." Then, seeing her dumfounded, he caught up her carpet-bag and threw her workbox into it for a beginning. He then laid hands upon some of her preserved meats and marmalade and carried them off to his own cabin.
His mind then flew back to his reading, and passed in rapid review all the wants that men had endured in open boats.
He got hold of Welch and told him to be sure and see there was plenty of spare canvas on board, and sailing needles, scissors, etc. Also three bags of biscuit, and, above all, a cask of water.
He himself ran all about the ship, including the mate's cabin, in search of certain tools he thought would be wanted.
Then to his own cabin, to fill his carpet-bag.
There was little time to spare; the ship was low in the water, and the men abandoning her. He flung the things into his bag, fastened and locked it, strapped up his blankets for her use, flung on his pea-jacket, and turned the handle of his door to run out.
The door did not open!
He pushed it. It did not yield!
He rushed at it. It was fast!
He uttered a cry of rage and flung himself at it.
Horror! It was immovable!
CHAPTER XI.
THE fearful, the sickening truth burst on him in all its awful significance.
Some miscreant or madman had locked the door, and so fastened him to the sinking ship, at a time when, in the bustle, the alarm, the selfishness, all would be apt to forget him and leave him to his death.
He tried the door in every way, he hammered at it; he shouted, he raged, he screamed. In vain. Unfortunately the door of this cabin was of very unusual strength and thickness.
Then he took up one of those great augers he had found in the mate's cabin, and bored a hole in the door; through this hole he fired his pistol, and then screamed for help. "I am shut up in the cabin. I shall be drowned. Oh, for Christ's sake, save me! save me!" and a cold sweat of terror poured down his whole body.
What is that?
The soft rustle of a woman's dress.
Oh, how he thanked God for that music, and the hope it gave him!
It comes toward him; it stops, the key is turned, the dress rustles away, swift as a winged bird; he dashes at the
Six feet water in the hold!
The captain, who had been sober beyond his time, now got dead drunk.
The mate took the command. On hearing this, Welch and Cooper left the pumps. Wylie ordered them back. They refused, and coolly lighted their pipes. A violent altercation took place, which was brought to a close by Welch.
"It is no use pumping the ship," said he. "She is doomed. D'ye think we are blind, my mate and me? You got the long-boat ready for yourself before ever the leak was sprung. Now get the cutter ready for my mate and me."
At these simple words Wylie lost color, and walked aft without a word.
Next day there were seven feet water in the hold, and quantities of bread coming up through the pumps.
Wylie ordered the men from the pumps to the boats. The long-boat was provisioned and lowered. While she was towing astern, the cutter was prepared, and the ship left to fill.
All this time Miss Rolleston had been kept in the dark, not as to the danger, but as to its extent. Great was her surprise when Mr. Hazel entered her cabin and cast an ineffable look of pity on her.
She looked up surprised, and then angry. "How dare you?" she began.
He waved his hand in a sorrowful but commanding way. "Oh, this is no time for prejudice or temper. The ship is sinking. We are going into the boats. Pray make preparations. Here is a list I have written of the things you ought to take. We may be weeks at sea in an open boat." Then, seeing her dumfounded, he caught up her carpet-bag and threw her workbox into it for a beginning. He then laid hands upon some of her preserved meats and marmalade and carried them off to his own cabin.
His mind then flew back to his reading, and passed in rapid review all the wants that men had endured in open boats.
He got hold of Welch and told him to be sure and see there was plenty of spare canvas on board, and sailing needles, scissors, etc. Also three bags of biscuit, and, above all, a cask of water.
He himself ran all about the ship, including the mate's cabin, in search of certain tools he thought would be wanted.
Then to his own cabin, to fill his carpet-bag.
There was little time to spare; the ship was low in the water, and the men abandoning her. He flung the things into his bag, fastened and locked it, strapped up his blankets for her use, flung on his pea-jacket, and turned the handle of his door to run out.
The door did not open!
He pushed it. It did not yield!
He rushed at it. It was fast!
He uttered a cry of rage and flung himself at it.
Horror! It was immovable!
CHAPTER XI.
THE fearful, the sickening truth burst on him in all its awful significance.
Some miscreant or madman had locked the door, and so fastened him to the sinking ship, at a time when, in the bustle, the alarm, the selfishness, all would be apt to forget him and leave him to his death.
He tried the door in every way, he hammered at it; he shouted, he raged, he screamed. In vain. Unfortunately the door of this cabin was of very unusual strength and thickness.
Then he took up one of those great augers he had found in the mate's cabin, and bored a hole in the door; through this hole he fired his pistol, and then screamed for help. "I am shut up in the cabin. I shall be drowned. Oh, for Christ's sake, save me! save me!" and a cold sweat of terror poured down his whole body.
What is that?
The soft rustle of a woman's dress.
Oh, how he thanked God for that music, and the hope it gave him!
It comes toward him; it stops, the key is turned, the dress rustles away, swift as a winged bird; he dashes at the