Foul Play [49]
reproaches. However, he replied, rather sullenly, that it was only for one night; they could signal the long-boat in the morning and get the other bags and the cask out of her. But Mr. Hazel was not to be appeased. "The morning! Why, she sails three feet to our two. How do you know he won't run away from us? I never expect to get within ten miles of him again. We know him; and he knows we know him."
Cooper got up and patted Mr. Hazel on the shoulder soothingly. "Boat-hook aft," said he to Welch.
He then, by an ingenious use of the boat-hook and some of the spare canvas, contrived to set out a studding-sail on the other side of the mast.
Hazel thanked him warmly. "But, oh, Cooper! Cooper!" said he, "I'd give all I have in the world if that bread and water were on board the cutter instead of the long-boat."
The cutter had now two wings instead of one; the water bubbling loud under her bows marked her increased speed, and all fear of being greatly outsailed by her consort began to subside.
A slight sea-fret came on and obscured the sea in part; but they had a good lantern and compass, and steered the course exactly all night, according to Wylie's orders, changing the helmsman every four hours.
Mr. Hazel, without a word, put a rug round Miss Rolleston's shoulders, and another round her feet.
"Oh, not both, sir, please," said she.
"Am I to be disobeyed by everybody?" said he.
Then she submitted in silence, and in a certain obsequious way that was quite new and well calculated to disarm anger.
Sooner or later all slept, except the helmsman.
At daybreak Mr. Hazel was wakened by a loud hail from a man in the bows.
All the sleepers started up.
"Long-boat not in sight!"
It was too true. The ocean was blank. Not a sail, large or small, in sight.
Many voices spoke at once.
"He has carried on till he has capsized her."
"He has given us the slip."
Unwilling to believe so great a calamity, every eye peered and stared all over the sea. In vain. Not a streak that could be a boat's hull, not a speck that could be a sail.
The little cutter was alone upon the ocean. Alone, with scarcely two days' provisions, nine hundred miles from land, and four hundred miles to leeward of the nearest sea-road.
Hazel, seeing his worst forebodings realized, sat down in moody, bitter, and boding silence.
Of the other men some raged and cursed. Some wept aloud.
The lady, more patient, put her hands together and prayed to Him who made the sea and all that therein is. Yet her case was the cruelest. For she was by nature more timid than the men, yet she must share their desperate peril. And then to be alone with all these men, and one of them had told her he loved her, and hated the man she was betrothed to! Shame tortured this delicate creature, as well as fear. Happy for her that of late, and only of late, she had learned to pray in earnest. _"Qui precari novit, premi potest, non potest opprimi."_
It was now a race between starvation and drowning, and either way death stared them in the face.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE long-boat was, at this moment, a hundred miles to windward of the cutter.
The fact is that Wylie, the evening before, had been secretly perplexed as to the best course. He had decided to run for the island; but he was not easy under his own decision; and, at night, he got more and more discontented with it. Finally, at nine o'clock P.M., he suddenly gave the order to luff, and tack; and by daybreak he was very near the place where the _Proserpine_ went down, whereas the cutter, having run before the wind all night, was, at least, a hundred miles to leeward of him.
Not to deceive the reader, or let him, for a moment, think we do business in monsters, we will weigh this act of Wylie's justly.
It was just a piece of iron egotism. He preferred, for himself, the chance of being picked up by a vessel. He thought it was about a hair's breadth better than running for an island, as to whose bearing he was not very clear, after all.
But he was not sure he was taking the best or
Cooper got up and patted Mr. Hazel on the shoulder soothingly. "Boat-hook aft," said he to Welch.
He then, by an ingenious use of the boat-hook and some of the spare canvas, contrived to set out a studding-sail on the other side of the mast.
Hazel thanked him warmly. "But, oh, Cooper! Cooper!" said he, "I'd give all I have in the world if that bread and water were on board the cutter instead of the long-boat."
The cutter had now two wings instead of one; the water bubbling loud under her bows marked her increased speed, and all fear of being greatly outsailed by her consort began to subside.
A slight sea-fret came on and obscured the sea in part; but they had a good lantern and compass, and steered the course exactly all night, according to Wylie's orders, changing the helmsman every four hours.
Mr. Hazel, without a word, put a rug round Miss Rolleston's shoulders, and another round her feet.
"Oh, not both, sir, please," said she.
"Am I to be disobeyed by everybody?" said he.
Then she submitted in silence, and in a certain obsequious way that was quite new and well calculated to disarm anger.
Sooner or later all slept, except the helmsman.
At daybreak Mr. Hazel was wakened by a loud hail from a man in the bows.
All the sleepers started up.
"Long-boat not in sight!"
It was too true. The ocean was blank. Not a sail, large or small, in sight.
Many voices spoke at once.
"He has carried on till he has capsized her."
"He has given us the slip."
Unwilling to believe so great a calamity, every eye peered and stared all over the sea. In vain. Not a streak that could be a boat's hull, not a speck that could be a sail.
The little cutter was alone upon the ocean. Alone, with scarcely two days' provisions, nine hundred miles from land, and four hundred miles to leeward of the nearest sea-road.
Hazel, seeing his worst forebodings realized, sat down in moody, bitter, and boding silence.
Of the other men some raged and cursed. Some wept aloud.
The lady, more patient, put her hands together and prayed to Him who made the sea and all that therein is. Yet her case was the cruelest. For she was by nature more timid than the men, yet she must share their desperate peril. And then to be alone with all these men, and one of them had told her he loved her, and hated the man she was betrothed to! Shame tortured this delicate creature, as well as fear. Happy for her that of late, and only of late, she had learned to pray in earnest. _"Qui precari novit, premi potest, non potest opprimi."_
It was now a race between starvation and drowning, and either way death stared them in the face.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE long-boat was, at this moment, a hundred miles to windward of the cutter.
The fact is that Wylie, the evening before, had been secretly perplexed as to the best course. He had decided to run for the island; but he was not easy under his own decision; and, at night, he got more and more discontented with it. Finally, at nine o'clock P.M., he suddenly gave the order to luff, and tack; and by daybreak he was very near the place where the _Proserpine_ went down, whereas the cutter, having run before the wind all night, was, at least, a hundred miles to leeward of him.
Not to deceive the reader, or let him, for a moment, think we do business in monsters, we will weigh this act of Wylie's justly.
It was just a piece of iron egotism. He preferred, for himself, the chance of being picked up by a vessel. He thought it was about a hair's breadth better than running for an island, as to whose bearing he was not very clear, after all.
But he was not sure he was taking the best or