Foul Play [63]
all; when the leak gained on us, Hudson ran the ship three hundred miles by my reckoning to the nor'east; and, I remember, the day before she foundered, he told me she was in latitude forty, and Easter Island bearing due north."
"Here is the spot, then," said General Rolleston, and placed his finger on the spot.
"Ay, sir," said Wylie, addressing the merchant; "but she ran about eighty-five miles after that, on a northerly course--no--wind on her starboard quarter--and, being deep in the water, she'd make lee way--say eighty-two miles, nor'east by east." The general took eighty-two miles off the scale, with a pair of dividers, and set out that distance on the chart. He held the instrument fixed on the point thus obtained.
Wylie eyed the point, and, after a moment's consideration, nodded his head.
"There, or thereabouts," he said, in a low voice, and looking at the merchant.
A pause ensued, and the two old men examined the speck pricked on the map, as if it were the waters covering the _Proserpine._
"Now, sir," said Rolleston, "trace the course of the boats;" and he handed Wylie a pencil.
The sailor slowly averted his head, but stretched out his hand and took it, and traced two lines, the one short and straight, running nearly northeast. "That's the way the cutter headed when we lost her in the night."
The other line ran parallel to the first for half an inch, then, turning, bent backward and ran due south.
"This was our course," said Wylie.
General Rolleston looked up, and said, "Why did you desert the cutter?"
The mate looked at old Wardlaw, and, after some hesitation, replied: "After we lost sight of her the men with me declared that we could not reach either Juan Fernandez or Valparaiso with our stock of provisions, and insisted on standing for the sea-track of Australian liners between the Horn and Sydney."
This explanation was received in dead silence. Wylie fidgeted, and his eye wandered round the room.
General Rolleston applied his compasses to the chart. "I find that the _Proserpine_ was not one thousand miles from Easter Island. Why did you not make for that land?"
"We had no charts, sir," said Wylie to the merchant, "and I'm no navigator."
"I see no land laid down hereaway, northeast of the spot where the ship went down."
"No," replied Wylie, "that's what the men said when they made me 'bout ship."
"Then why did you lead the way northeast at all?"
"I'm no navigator," answered the man sullenly.
He then suddenly stammered out: "Ask my men what we went through. Why, sir" (to Wardlaw), "I can hardly believe that I am alive, and sit here talking to you about this cursed business. And nobody offers me a drop of anything."
Wardlaw poured him out a tumbler of wine. His brown hand trembled a little, and he gulped the wine down like water.
General Rolleston gave Mr. Wardlaw a look, and Wylie was dismissed. He slouched down the street all in a cold perspiration; but still clinging to his three thousand pounds, though small was now his hope of ever seeing it.
When he was gone General Rolleston paced that large and gloomy room in silence. Wardlaw eyed him with the greatest interest, but avoided speaking to him. At last he stopped short, and stood erect, as veterans halt, and pointed down at the chart.
"I'll start at once for that spot," said he. "I'll go in the next ship bound to Valparaiso: there I'll charter a small vessel, and ransack those waters for some trace of my poor lost girl."
"Can you think of no better way than that?" said old Wardlaw, gently, and with a slight tone of reproach.
"No--not at this moment. Oh, yes, by the by, the _Greyhound_ and _Dreadnaught a_re going out to survey the islands of the Pacific. I have interest enough to get a berth in the _Greyhound."_
"What! go in a government ship! under the orders of a man, under the orders of another man, under the orders of a board. Why, if you heard our poor girl was alive upon a rock, the _Dreadnaught_ would be sure to run up a bunch of red-tape to the fore that moment to recall the
"Here is the spot, then," said General Rolleston, and placed his finger on the spot.
"Ay, sir," said Wylie, addressing the merchant; "but she ran about eighty-five miles after that, on a northerly course--no--wind on her starboard quarter--and, being deep in the water, she'd make lee way--say eighty-two miles, nor'east by east." The general took eighty-two miles off the scale, with a pair of dividers, and set out that distance on the chart. He held the instrument fixed on the point thus obtained.
Wylie eyed the point, and, after a moment's consideration, nodded his head.
"There, or thereabouts," he said, in a low voice, and looking at the merchant.
A pause ensued, and the two old men examined the speck pricked on the map, as if it were the waters covering the _Proserpine._
"Now, sir," said Rolleston, "trace the course of the boats;" and he handed Wylie a pencil.
The sailor slowly averted his head, but stretched out his hand and took it, and traced two lines, the one short and straight, running nearly northeast. "That's the way the cutter headed when we lost her in the night."
The other line ran parallel to the first for half an inch, then, turning, bent backward and ran due south.
"This was our course," said Wylie.
General Rolleston looked up, and said, "Why did you desert the cutter?"
The mate looked at old Wardlaw, and, after some hesitation, replied: "After we lost sight of her the men with me declared that we could not reach either Juan Fernandez or Valparaiso with our stock of provisions, and insisted on standing for the sea-track of Australian liners between the Horn and Sydney."
This explanation was received in dead silence. Wylie fidgeted, and his eye wandered round the room.
General Rolleston applied his compasses to the chart. "I find that the _Proserpine_ was not one thousand miles from Easter Island. Why did you not make for that land?"
"We had no charts, sir," said Wylie to the merchant, "and I'm no navigator."
"I see no land laid down hereaway, northeast of the spot where the ship went down."
"No," replied Wylie, "that's what the men said when they made me 'bout ship."
"Then why did you lead the way northeast at all?"
"I'm no navigator," answered the man sullenly.
He then suddenly stammered out: "Ask my men what we went through. Why, sir" (to Wardlaw), "I can hardly believe that I am alive, and sit here talking to you about this cursed business. And nobody offers me a drop of anything."
Wardlaw poured him out a tumbler of wine. His brown hand trembled a little, and he gulped the wine down like water.
General Rolleston gave Mr. Wardlaw a look, and Wylie was dismissed. He slouched down the street all in a cold perspiration; but still clinging to his three thousand pounds, though small was now his hope of ever seeing it.
When he was gone General Rolleston paced that large and gloomy room in silence. Wardlaw eyed him with the greatest interest, but avoided speaking to him. At last he stopped short, and stood erect, as veterans halt, and pointed down at the chart.
"I'll start at once for that spot," said he. "I'll go in the next ship bound to Valparaiso: there I'll charter a small vessel, and ransack those waters for some trace of my poor lost girl."
"Can you think of no better way than that?" said old Wardlaw, gently, and with a slight tone of reproach.
"No--not at this moment. Oh, yes, by the by, the _Greyhound_ and _Dreadnaught a_re going out to survey the islands of the Pacific. I have interest enough to get a berth in the _Greyhound."_
"What! go in a government ship! under the orders of a man, under the orders of another man, under the orders of a board. Why, if you heard our poor girl was alive upon a rock, the _Dreadnaught_ would be sure to run up a bunch of red-tape to the fore that moment to recall the