We struggled on and on in the gloom, with the hurricane roaring over us, carrying the spray and drift in a smothering storm into our faces. A hand would slip with a wet grip only to take a fresh hold again, and strain away to get the other under.

We rolled with the ship and after a particularly hard rally, in which I had my hand badly bitten, we eased up near the edge of the forecastle head. During this breathing spell I managed to get my foot braced against a ring-bolt. This gave me a slight advantage for a sudden push. In an instant I shoved with all my might, driving us both to the edge. The ruffian saw what was coming and tried to turn, but it was too late. One single instant of frantic fighting, half suspended in the air, and then over we went, myself on top.

We landed heavily upon the main deck, and the shock, falling even as I did upon the body under me, stunned me for several moments. My captain lay motionless. Then, when a sudden rush of cool water poured over us, I came to my senses and started to my feet. In another moment I had passed a line around the desperado, and was dragging him under the lee of the windlass, where I finally made him fast to the bitts.

When I started aft again, I found that Trunnell had managed to get a tarpaulin into the mizzen rigging, and by the aid of this bit of canvas the Pirate had at last headed the sea within five points. It now took her forward of the beam and hove her down to her bearings with each roll to leeward, the sea breaking heavily across the main deck, keeping the waterways waist deep with the white surge. In this rush objects showed darkly where they floated from their fastenings until they drifted to a water-port and passed on overboard.

I finally managed to dodge the seas enough to get aft alive, though one caught me under the lee of the fore rigging and nigh smothered me as it poured over the topgallant rail.

Trunnell stood near the break of the poop, and beside him were the skipper and third mate. I noticed a look of surprise come upon the young officer's face when I came close to them. It was much lighter now, and the actions of this young fellow interested me.

"I thought you might have been drowned," he cried, in his high female voice, but with a significant tone and look at the last word which was not lost on me in spite of the elements.

"Everything is all snug forward," I answered, bawling at the captain, but looking fairly at the third mate. "You can let a few men go and rivet irons on the convict by the windlass bitts. He seems to have little trouble unlocking these." And I held up the unlocked irons I had picked up under the forecastle.

As I held the irons under the third officer's nose, he drew back. Then he took them and flung them with an impatient gesture over the side into the sea. I thought I heard a fierce oath in a deep voice near by, but Trunnell and the captain were both staring up at the fringe flying from the maintopsail yard, and had evidently said nothing. There was little more to do now, for as long as the ship held her head to the sea, she would probably ride it out, unless some accident happened.

I was worn out with the exertion from handling canvas and my fracas forward, so after bawling out some of the details of the occurrence into Trunnell's ear, I took my watch below to get a rest. The men who preferred to stay aft clear of the water were allowed to lie down near the mizzen. Some took advantage of this permission, but for the most part they stood huddled in a group along the spanker boom, ready for a call.

I had made it a rule long ago, when I had first gone to sea, that I would never miss a watch below when my turn came if I could be spared with convenience. It is a question always with a sailor when he will be called to shorten sail for a blow, and the best thing he can do is to keep regular hours when he can, and stand by for a crisis when all hands are necessary. With a captain it might be different, for the entire responsibility rests upon him. He also does not have to stand watch, and consequently has no reason to be tired after several hours on deck. But with a sailor or mate who stands his four hours off and on, he must take care he is not pushed beyond his time, for the occasion will certainly come sooner or later when he will have to stand through several watches without a rest. Then, if he is already tired out, he will be useless.

I turned in with a strange feeling about the matter forward and the third officer's conduct. Although I knew Trunnell would take care that the ruffian would not get loose again that night during his watch, I took out a heavy revolver from my locker and stuck it under the pillow of my bunk. Then I saw that the door and port were fast before I jammed myself in for a rest.

I lay a long time thinking over the strange outfit on board, and the more I thought over the matter, the more I became convinced that the third officer had taken a hand in letting Andrews loose to try his hand on me again. There was something uncanny about this officer with a woman's voice, and I actually began to have a secret loathing not entirely unmixed with fear for him.

When I turned out for the morning watch, Trunnell met me in the alleyway. He looked wild and bushy from his exposure to the elements, his hair being in snarls and tangles from having a sou'wester jammed over his ears, and his great flat nose was red from the irritation of the water that struck and streamed over his bearded face. His whiskers gleamed with salt in the light of the lamp, and he spat with great satisfaction as he breathed the quiet air of the cabin.

"It's letting up, Rolling," he said; "there's a little light to the easterd now. Sink me, but we've a job bending gear. Everything gone out of her but her spars, and Lord knows how they stand it. How'd you come to get caught with all that canvas on her?"

"Look here, Trunnell," I answered, "you know I'm a sailor even if I'm not much else, and you know how that canvas came to be on her. I'm almost glad it's gone. I would be if it wasn't for the fact that we'll be longer than usual on this run, and I've about made up my mind that the quicker a decent man gets out of this ship, the better."

I was buttoning up my oilskins while I spoke, and Trunnell smiled a queer bit of a smile, which finally spread over his bearded face and crinkled up the corners of his little eyes into a network of lines and wrinkles. "I heard the outfly," said he, "and I was only joking ye about the canvas. It's a quare world. Ye wouldn't think it, but if ye want to see a true picture of responsibility a-restin' heavy like upon the digestion of a man, ye'll do well to take a good look at the old man a-standin' there on the poop. 'What for?' says you; 'God knows,' says me; but there he is, without a drop o' licker or nothin' in him since he heard ye bellow fer all hands."

"I should think he'd feel a little upset after the way he caught her," I answered; "he probably has the owners' interests a little at heart."

But Trunnell shook his head until the water flew around.

"Ye're off agin, me son. It ain't that at all. That man don't care a whoop for all the owners livin'. Not he. Sink me, Rolling, I got a big head, but nothin' much in it; in spite o' this, though, I knows a thing or two when I sees it. That man has some other object in bein' nervous about this here hooker besides owners. Don't ask me what it is, 'cause I don't know. But I knows what it ain't."

"The whole outfit is queer," I answered, "and the sooner I get out of her, the better satisfied I'll be. No decent sailor would ship in the craft if he could help it."

Trunnell gave me a queer look. Then he saw I meant no offence and shook his great head again.

"Did it ever occur to ye that ye had a duty to do in the world beside huntin' soft jobs?"

"Certainly not that of hunting hard ones," I answered, fastening my belt.

Trunnell's face underwent a change. He was serious and waited until I had strapped my sou'wester under my chin before saying anything.

"Mebbe I'm wrong, an' mebbe I ain't," he said. "But I believes a man has duties to stick to while he's on watch above water. One of these is not to turn tail and scud away, a-showin' your stern to every hard thing as comes along. No, sir, when ye runs into a hard gang like some o' these here aboard this hooker, stick to her, says me. If every man who's honest should turn his stern to a wessel that's got a bad name, what would happen to her? Why, any suckin' swab of a cabin boy kin tell that she'd get worse an' worse with the bad ones what would take your place. Ain't that reason? There's got to be some men to man a ship, an' if no honest ones will, then the owners can't do less than hire raskils. Ye can't sink a ship just because things have happened aboard her. Oh, Lord, no. Think a bit, Rolling, an' tell me if ye ain't blamed glad ye ware here, an' bein' here, ye must 'a' saved some poor devil of a sailor from getting killed this voyage?"

"I'm blamed sorry I ever—"

"Well, now, suppose'n I had a been ashore the day ye had the fracas on the main deck. Where'd ye been now, hey? A hunderd fathom deep, sure as Andrews is aboard this here ship, if I knows anything o' his ways, an' I've sailed two voyages with him afore. No, man; brace up and do yer dooty as ye may. If every good man was to stay out of bad ships, they'd get so the devil himself would be afeard to go to sea in them."

I smiled at the little fellow. Here was a man, who had the reputation of being but little better than an unhung pirate, preaching a most unselfish doctrine. We had been below for several minutes, and I could hear the captain's voice bawling out some order on the deck overhead. The bells were struck by the automatic clock in the cabin, and I turned to go.

"You're a good Christian, anyhow, Trunnell," I said as I started.

Trunnell gave a snort and threw his quid in a corner near a cuspidor. "I ain't never seen the inside of a church. I only tries to do the square thing to whoever is a-runnin' of the sea outfit—same as ye'll do if ye'll take the trouble to think a minit—"

I was out on the deck, and the wind almost blew me into the scuppers. The captain was standing right above me on the poop watching the growing light in the east. The waist was full of foamy water that roared and surged and washed everything movable about. Above, the masts and spars looked dark in the dim, gray light of the early morning, the strips of canvas stretching away from the jackstays and flicking dismally to leeward. All the yards, however, were trimmed nicely, showing Trunnell's master hand, and on the mainmast, bellying and straining with the pressure, was a new storm spencer, set snug and true, holding the plunging vessel up to the great rolling sea that came like a living hill from the southwest. Forward, a bit of a staysail was set as taut as a drumhead, looking no bigger than a good-sized handkerchief. Aft, a trysail, set on the spanker boom, helped the tarpaulin in the mizzen to bring her head to the sea.

I climbed up the poop ladder and took a look around.

It was a dismal sight. As far as the eye could reach through the white haze of the flying drift the ocean presented a dirty steel-gray color, torn into long, ragged streaks of white where the combers rolled on the high seas before the gale. Overhead all was a deep blank of gray vapor. The wind was not blowing nearly as hard as it had during my last watch on deck, but the sea was rolling heavier. It took the Pirate fair on the port bow, and every now and again it rose so high above her topgallant rail that it showed green light through the mass that would crash over to the deck and go roaring white to leeward, making the main deck uninhabitable. Sometimes a heavy, quick comber would strike her on the bluff of the bow, and the shock would almost knock the men off their feet. Then the burst of water would shoot high in the air, going sometimes clear to the topgallant yard, nearly a hundred feet above the deck, while all forward would disappear in the flying spray and spume.

"Fine weather, Rolling, hey?" bawled the skipper to me as I gained the poop.

"Oh, it isn't so bad the way she's taking it now. If she hangs on as well as this during the watch, she'll make good weather of it all right," I said.

"I'm glad you think so, my son. Just call down to the steward to bring me a bracer. Whew, just look at that!"

As he spoke a huge sea rose on the weather bow and bore down on the staggering ship. It struck her fair and rolled over her so heavily that I had to grab a line to keep from being knocked down. The main deck was full of water, and as it roared off through the ports and over the lee rail, I looked to see if anything had gone with it. Then I realized how well we had been washed during the night.

From the forecastle aft to the poop there was nothing left except the hatches and deck-house. The boats were all stove to matchwood except one that was lashed on the forward house. The bulwarks were smashed for many feet along both sides, but this was no real damage, as it allowed the sea to run off easier, relieving the deck of the heavy load. The whole main deck, fore and aft, was as clean stripped as could be, and the hatches alone were saving us from filling and going under.

It was a dismal sight, and the men who stood huddled on the forecastle and poop looked, in their yellow oilskins, like so many yellow ghosts. I went aft to the wheel and found that Hans and Johnson were steering without much difficulty, although they had all they could do to hold her when a sea struck aft. Far astern the light seemed to be growing brighter, and while I looked there appeared some long streaks in the heavy banks of vapor which showed a break or two. I took the glass which hung on the side of the grating and cleaned the lens with my hand. Sweeping the storm-torn horizon to the southward, nothing showed but rolling seas and haze. I turned the glass to the northward, and in a moment I saw a black speck rise and then disappear from the line of vision.

"Vessel to lor'ard, sir," I bawled to the captain.

"I don't care for forty vessels, Rolling. Get me that steward with the liquor, or there'll be one afloat here without a second mate."



VII

It was with no good feeling that I went below to get the old man a drink. The steward met me and grinned as he brought forth the liquor.

"Yessah, it's nine ob dem he takes endurin' de watch. Lord, man, he's got something pow'rful on his mind. Did yo' ebber feel the heft ob his trunk he brought aboard, sah? No, sah, dat yo' didn't. Well, it's pow'rful heavy fo' a man's baggage."

"What's in it?" I asked.

"'Deed, I doan know, man, jest what is in it, but I reckon it's something what worries him. Dat an' Cap'n Andrews forrads worries him some. Chips, he say as dey goes aft an' have matters straightened out a bit. Dey is fo' either weldin' irons on de cap'n forrads or puttin' him on de beach. Jim, Hans, Bendin, an' Frenchy an' a lot more are fo' doing' somethin' with him. Yessah, dey is dat. Hab a leetle nip 'fore yo' goes?"

I took one and went back to the quarter-deck. The speck to leeward showed a bit of storm canvas flying, and we soon could make out she was a large ship hove to like ourselves on the port tack. Her hull showed now and again on the seas, and after drifting down toward her for about an hour, the light grew strong enough to make her out plainly. She was a large ship, English built, with a turtle-backed stern, painted white on the tumble-home of the quarter. Her hull was black, and the foam showed in long white lines of streamers as it was blown across her topsides. She was making heavy weather of it, and every now and again she would ram her nose clear out of sight in the high-rolling sea. Then she would rise heavily, with the white water pouring from her dripping forefoot and wallow dismally, until her weather rail would appear to roll under.

The stump of a foremast showed forward and a stout maintopsail strained away amidships, while aft, where the mizzen should have been, there was nothing showing above her deck. Her main topgallant mast was also gone at the cross-trees, but the maintopsail held strongly. Altogether she was pretty well wrecked aloft.

While we watched her we drew nearer, and when she came within a couple of miles I could make out a flag, the English ensign, union down, in the main rigging. This showed pretty plainly that she was doing badly and wanted help, but it was absolutely useless to think of doing anything for her while the wind held and the sea showed no signs of going down.

Being much lighter than she was, we drifted off more, and we came nearer and nearer as the morning brightened into a dirty day. In a short time we had her close under our lee, not half a mile distant. Indeed, it looked as though we might get closer than we wished to. The wind slacked gradually, however, and before long we managed to get out our main-topmast staysail. Then followed a close-reefed foresail balanced aft by the mizzen lower topsail, which we had saved. This, with the spencer and canvas already set, gave us a good hold of the ship in spite of the sea, and we were ready to wear if necessary. The Pirate drifted much faster under the extra canvas and went to leeward so far that we saw that she would go clear of the stranger. As we drew near, we now saw how deep she sat in the water, the seas rolling over her, amidships, with every plunge. Still she headed up well and was under control.

While we gazed, a string of flags fluttered from her yard-arm. I dived below for the code and soon read the signal for help. They were sinking.

Trunnell turned out on deck, and we waited to see if Captain Thompson would give the word to do anything. He stood near the rail and gazed through his glass without saying anything or exhibiting any concern whatever for the people we could now see upon the stranger's high poop.

Then he turned to the mate and asked:—

"What does he want, Trunnell?"

"Want's us to stand by him, I reckon," the mate replied.

"Can we do it without danger in this seaway, hey?" demanded Thompson. "Answer me that. How the devil can we do anything for a fellow in this seaway, when we might be rammed by him and sink ourselves?"

"We'll stand by that ship as long as she's above water," answered Trunnell, quietly.

Then came a sudden change upon the captain. He turned upon the mate quickly, and his bright, glinting eyes seemed to grow to sharp points on either side of his hooked nose, which worked and twitched under the excitement. His hand went behind his back and he jerked forth a long revolver.

"Who's captain of this here boat, Mr. Trunnell, me or you?" said he, in his drawling voice.

"You," answered Trunnell, decisively.

"Do you presume to give any orders here what don't agree with mine?"

"No, sir," said Trunnell.

"Well, just let me hint to you, you bushy-headed little brute, that I don't want any suggestions from my mates, see? You little snipe, you! what d'ye mean, anyhow, by saying what we'll do?"

Several men standing on the poop to keep clear of the seas in the waist, hitched their trousers a little, and felt for the sheath knives in their belts. I noticed Jim, the young landsman, pass his hand behind him and stand waiting. There was an ominous silence and watchfulness among the crew which was not lost on the captain. He had inspired no respect in their minds as a sailor, even though he had shown himself fearless. It was evident that they were with Trunnell.

"I meant that we would stand by that ship as long as she floated," said the little mate, looking straight into the pistol barrel, "and I expected that it would be by your orders, sir."

Thompson was not a fool. He saw in an instant how the case was, and his glinting eyes took in the whole outfit of men and mates at one glance. He may not have wished to help the strangers, but he saw that not to do so meant more trouble to himself than if he did.

"This time you expected just right, Trunnell. I mean to stand by those people, and I order you to get ropes ready to hoist out the boat we have on the house, there. What I don't want and won't have is orders suggested by any one aboard here but me. I'm glad you didn't mean to do that, for I'd hate to kill you. You can get the boat ready."

Then he put the revolver back into his pocket, and Trunnell went forward along the shelter of the weather bulwarks and made ready the tackles for hoisting the boat out.

By the aid of the powerful glass I made out a figure of a woman standing upon the ship's poop. She appeared to be watching us intently. Soon a little sailorly and seaman-like fellow named Ford, whose interest in the strange ship was marked, came from the group near the mizzen and asked if he should get the signal halyards ready. Thompson made no objection, and we bent on the flags which told by the code that we would stand by them until the sea went down enough to get out a small boat.

At seven bells the "doctor" managed to get some fire started in the galley, and all hands had a drink of hot coffee. This was cheering, and Trunnell soon had the watch hard at work getting out new canvas from the lazaretto aft. The main deck was getting safer, and although she took the sea heavily now and then, she was no longer like a half-tide rock in a strong current.

Topsails were hoisted out from below and gantlines bent. By the time all hands had eaten something and eight bells had struck, we were ready to get up new topsails and start the pumps.

Luckily there was little water below. In spite of the tremendous straining the ship had made no more than could be expected, and in a little over an hour at the brakes we had the satisfaction of having the pumps suck.

All that morning we worked aloft getting new gear up. The British ship drew away on our weather beam, wallowing horribly in the seaway. The wind died away gradually into a good stiff gale, and by noon we had a break or two above us that let down the sunlight. This cheered all hands. A good meal with extra coffee was served forward, and I sat down to the cabin table with Chips and the steward, to eat ravenously of prime junk and preserved potatoes.

"'Tis a quare time ye had ag'in last night, forrads, hey?" said Chips.

"It was interesting for a few minutes," I answered. "I hope you fixed the fellow's irons all right. Keys seem to have strange ways aboard this vessel."

"Well, ye needn't be afear'd av th' raskil takin' leave ag'in. Sure, an' I riveted his irons this time, as will take a file an' no less to cut through. I votes we get th' old man to put him aboard th' first ship what comes a-heavin' down nigh enough, hey?"

"It would suit me all right," I answered.

"Jim and Long Tom an' Hans an' a whole lot av us have th' matter in mind, an' we'll speak wid th' skipper afore long. There's a divil's mess below in th' fore-peak, where a barrel has bruk loose that I'll have to mix wid first. Be ye a-goin' in th' boat aboard th' stranger whin th' sea goes down?"

"I suppose so," I said; "that lot generally falls to a second mate."

"Be sure, thin, ye have th' plug in all right an' th' oars sound, fer th' sea will be heavy fer a bad craft, and ye mind th' irons last night."

"I'll just take a look at them before I start. Chips," I said. "Thank you for keeping tabs on the skipper."

"It's no great matter," he answered; and then we fell to with a will until the meal was finished.



VIII

At three bells in the afternoon the sea had begun to go down enough to allow us to get our new topsails on her and a main-topgallantsail. The Pirate went smoking through it under the pressure, trembling with each surge, and throwing a perfect storm of water over her catheads. The English ship was now a mere speck to windward, almost hull down, and we would have to beat up to her if we could.

Just how badly she needed help we of course could not tell. If she were sinking fast, then she would have to depend upon her own boats, for the sea was too heavy until late in the afternoon to venture out in our only one left. We could no longer see her signals, but carried all the sail possible, without danger of carrying away our spars, in the effort to get close to her again.

After standing along for an hour or more we wore ship, and found that we could just about get within hailing distance to leeward.

Trunnell had the reef tackles rigged from the main yard, and the life-boat was slung clear of the lee rail. Then, watching a chance, she was let go with Hans and Johnson in her to keep her clear and dropped back to the mizzen channels, where the volunteers were ready to get aboard her.

Four men besides myself manned her, and she was instantly let go to keep her clear of the sea, which hove her first high on the Pirate's quarter, and then down until our faces were below the copper on her bends. By dint of quick work we shoved her clear, and started on the pull, dead to windward.

How small the Pirate looked when we were but a few fathoms distant in that sea! Our boat rode the waves nicely without shipping much water, and several times I turned to look back at the ship, where Trunnell stood beside the skipper, watching us through the glasses, and waiting to pick us up on our return. I could see the "doctor's" face above the topgallant rail forward and that of Chips in the waist.

It was a long pull. The sea was running high and the wind was still blowing a half gale, breaking up the heavy oily clouds into long banks between which the sun shone at intervals. It was a good half hour's work before we could cover the short distance between the ships.

We came slowly up under her lee quarter, and when we were quite close I could see that she was indeed very deep, if not actually sinking. The words "Royal Sovereign, Liverpool," were painted in gold letters on her stern, and on the circular buoys hanging upon her quarter-rail was the same name in black. A group of men stood near the mizzen rigging, and one short man with a black sou'wester and blue pilot coat hailed us through a large-mouthed trumpet, which almost hid his bearded face.

"Boat ahoy! can you come aboard?" he roared.

"We'll try to come alongside," I bawled. "Stand by to heave a line."

A man had one ready and hove it well out with a yell to catch. Long Tom, our lean Yankee sailor, who was pulling bow oar, seized it as it fell across and took a turn around a thwart. The oars were shipped and we fell under the vessel's stern, riding the seas without mishap.

"We're sinking," cried the short man, who was the captain. "Can you take some of us with you?"

"Aye, aye; get them aboard here as quick as you can," came the answer.

There was no time lost now. Men swarmed toward the taffrail, and for an instant it looked as if there would be something of a panic. The short skipper, however, flung them aside without ceremony, and the next instant a female figure appeared at the rail.

"Haul easy," came the order. Hans and Tom pulled in the line slowly until the boat's bow was leading almost directly beneath the ship's stern. A bridle was rigged from the spanker boom and made fast to a life buoy. Then the lady who had appeared at the taffrail was slung in it rather uncomfortably and carefully lowered away. She was seized by one of the men forward, and handed aft to me.

The woman was quite young. She was slightly built, and I supported her easily until she was safely in the stern sheets. A few strands of curly blond hair blew across my face, and gave me a most peculiar feeling as I brushed them aside. Then she turned up her face, and I saw that she had most beautiful eyes, soft and gentle, with a trusting look, such as one sees in children.

"Thank you, Mr. Sailorman," she said, with a smile. "I'm all right now."

"Except, perhaps, for a little wetting, you will stay so, I hope," I answered.

A heavy woman was being lowered away, and Hans caught her boldly around the body, trying to keep her from being thrown out of the tossing small boat. She shrieked dismally.

"Don't be silly, mamma," cried the young lady aft. "You've been squeezed tighter than that before, I am sure."

She was passed aft and took her place beside her daughter in the stern, expostulating incoherently at the younger one's insinuations.

Then followed a little man, short and stout, who was evidently the ship's carpenter, and he was followed by a dozen sailors.

"Haven't you any boats that will swim?" I asked of the mate, who hung over the rail above me.

"We're getting them out now," he answered.

"Then let us go. We've got a big enough load already."

In a few moments we were on our way back to the Pirate, making good headway before the wind and sea, and shipping little water.

The men explained as we went along that the Sovereign had started a butt during the gale, and she was full of water by this time. They had kept at the pumps all day, but had given it up when they saw we were coming for them. The ship's cargo of oil and light woods from the peninsula had kept her from going to the bottom. She was homeward bound to Liverpool, and it was the captain's wife and daughter we were bringing aboard. The hurricane had caught them aback and dismasted them during the night, and after six hours of plunging helplessly into the sea without anything but the mainmast and stump of the foremast above the deck, she had sprung a leak and filled rapidly. The maintopsail they had bent in the morning after extraordinary exertion, and with this they had managed to keep her partly under control.

"She will never go to the bottom with all the soft wood she has in her," said a sailor who was old and grizzled and had the bearing of a man-of-war's man. "She can't sink for months. The water is up to her lower deck already."

"So that's the reason you were not getting your boats out in a hurry?" I asked.

"Sure," said he; "I'd as soon stay in her a bit longer as in many a bleedin' craft that you sees a-goin' in this trade."

"I noticed you were one of the first to leave her," said the young girl, with some spirit.

"Ah, mum, when you gets along in life like me, hardships is not good for the constitootion. A sailorman, 'e gets enough o' them without huntin' any more. Howsumever, if I see any chance o' gettin' the bleedin' craft in port 'way out here in this Hindian Ocean, I'd be the last to leave. Bust me, mum, if that ain't the whole truth, an' a little more besides. You ask your pa."

Here he gave a sigh, and drew his hand across his forehead as if in pain. His large pop eyes blinked sadly for a few moments, and his mouth dropped down at the corners. Then his mahogany-colored face became fixed and his gaze was upon the craft he had just deserted. What was in the old fellow's mind? I really felt sorry for him, as he sat there gazing sadly after his deserted home. Captain Sackett would stay aboard until the last, his wife informed us, but as there was no necessity of any one staying now, if their boats could live in the sea that was still running, it was probable that they would all be aboard us before night. Jenks, the old sailor, gave it as his opinion that they would have the boats out in half an hour.

We came up under the lee of the Pirate and then began the job of getting our passengers aboard her.

Trunnell passed a line over the main-brace bumpkin, and held the tossing craft away from the ship's side until a bridle could be bent and the ladies hoisted aboard.

Mrs. Sackett trembled violently and begged that she would not be killed, much to her daughter's amusement. Finally she was landed on deck, where she was greeted by the third mate and escorted aft. Miss Sackett was of different stuff. She insisted that she could grab the mizzen channel plates and climb aboard. I begged her to desist and be hoisted on deck properly, but she gave me such a look that I held back and refrained from passing the line about her. As the boat lifted on a sea she made a spring for the channel. Her hand caught it all right, but her foot slipped, and as the boat sank into the hollow trough she was left hanging.

Trunnell instantly sprang over the side, and letting himself down upon the channel, seized her hand and lifted her easily to a footing. The ship rolled down until they were knee deep in the sea, but the little mate held tight, and then, with one hand above his head, as she rose again, he lifted his burden easily to the grasp of Jim, who reached over the side for her.

After she was landed safely the men crowded up the best way they could, and the boat was dropped astern with a long painter to keep her clear of the ship's side.

Captain Thompson greeted his female passengers awkwardly. He declared in a drawling tone that he was 'most glad that their boat was wrecked, inasmuch as it had given him the opportunity to meet the finest ladies he had ever set eyes on.

"May the devil grasp me in his holy embrace, madam," said he, "if I am lying when I says that word. It is my most pious thought, says I."

Mrs. Sackett was somewhat taken aback at this candor, but managed to keep her feelings well hidden. Her daughter came to the rescue. "We appreciate your noble efforts, Captain Thompson. The fact is, we have heard so much about your gallantry in saving life at sea that we are sure anything we could say would sound weak in comparison to what you must already have heard. If you have a spare stateroom, we would be very thankful if we might have it for a time, as our clothes are quite wet from the sea."

The skipper was somewhat surprised at the young girl's answer, but he hid his confusion by bawling for the steward.

When the mulatto came, he gave numerous orders in regard to bunks, linen, drying of clothes, etc., regretting over and over again that he was a single man, and consequently had no wife from whom he could borrow wearing apparel while that of his guests was drying.

The third mate, also, took pains to be very civil to them, and his soft voice could be heard in conversation with Miss Sackett long after they had gone below.

I went forward and interviewed the men we had rescued, afterward getting the "doctor" to serve them something hot, as their galley fire had been out many hours and they had been eating nothing but ship's bread.

The Pirate waited all the afternoon with her canvas shortened down to her lower topsails to keep her from forging ahead too fast. But even when it grew dark and the British ship could no longer be clearly made out, her skipper had not gotten out his boats. It was evident that he would try to save her if possible, and now that his family were safe he cared little for the risk. Captain Thompson still held the Pirate hove to under easy canvas, drifting slowly with the wind, which was now no more than a moderate breeze. The sea, also, was going down fast, and the sky was showing well between the long lines of greasy-looking clouds which appeared to sail slowly away to the northeast. The night fell with every prospect of good weather coming on the following day.

I went on deck in the dog-watch and took a look around. The Sovereign was a mere blur on the horizon, but her lights shone clearly.

"We'll stand by her all night," said Trunnell, "and then if the skipper doesn't care to leave her,—which he will, however,—we'll stand away again."

There was little to do, so the watch lounged around the deck and rested from the exertion of the past twenty-four hours. Chips told me I had better come forward after supper and take a smoke in his room, for they were going to come to some conclusion about the fellow Andrews. There had been some talk of putting him aboard the English ship, and if we could get the captain to agree to it, it would be done.

I loafed around until I saw a light between the crack of his door and the bulkhead. Then I slid it back, and entered.

The stuffy little box was full of men. The bos'n, a large man named Spurgen, who had quite a swagger for a merchant sailor, was holding forth to the quartermaster, Hans, on nautical operations.

"An' how'd ye do if ye had an anchor atween, decks widout nothin' to hoist it out wid?" he was saying as I came in.

Hans affirmed, with many oaths, that he'd let the "bloody hancor go bloomin' well to the bottom before he'd fool wid it." This made the bos'n angry, and he opened with a fierce harangue, accompanied by a description of the necessary manoeuvres. He also made some remarks relating to the quartermaster's knowledge of things nautical.

I took occasion to look about the little room while this was going on and my fingers warmed up some. I then seated myself on a corner of the chest near Chips to make myself easy, during which time the bos'n had gained sufficient ground to enforce silence upon his adversary, and relinquish the subject of anchors. Then came a pause during which I could distinguish the "doctor's" voice above the mutterings, and get a whiff of my own tobacco out of the haze.

"—five fat roaches; they'll cure you every time," he was saying to Chips. "It's old man Green's sure remedy, sah, yes, sah. I hearn him tole his ole mate, Mr. Gantline, when he sailed in the West Coast trade."

"Faith, ye may stave me, shipmate, but that would be an all-fired tough dish to swallow," the carpenter declared, with a wry face. "Supposen they didn't die? They would make a most eternal disagreeable cargo shiftin' about amongst your ribs. May the devil grab me, ye moke, if I wouldn't rather swell up an' bust wid th' scurvy than swallow them fellows kickin'."

"Bile 'em, white man," said the cook. "Bile 'em in er pint er water—an' then fling 'em overboard. Who the debble would eat er roach?"

"Right ye are, shipmate," assented Chips; "'tis an aisy enough dose to take if all ye do is to throw th' critters to lor'ard. Sink me, though, if I sees th' benefit av a medicine ye fling to David Jones instead av placin' it to th' credit av yer own innerds."

"Yah, yah, Mr. Chips, but you beats me. Yes, sah, you beats me, but yer haid is thick. Yes, sah, yer haid is thick ernuff, yah, yah," laughed the "doctor." "What would yer do but drink the water, white man? yes, sah, drink the water for the acid in the critter. It's salt in yer blood makes scurvy, from libbin' so long er eatin' nuffin' but salt junk. Lime juice is good, ef the ole man gives it to yer straight, but he nebber does. No, sah, dat he nebber do. It's too expensive. Anyways, it doan' hab no strength like er roach, ner no sech freshness, which am de main pint after all."

Seeing himself out of the talk, and having completely growled down the quartermaster, the bos'n started another subject. This was a tirade against bad skippers and crimps who stood in too thick with the shipping commissioners, and whom he swore were in league with each other and the devil. He was an old sailor, and his seamed face was expressive when launching into a favorite subject. Here was Jim's chance, and he spoke out. "Whatever became of Jameson, what was took off by Andrews?" he asked Chipps.

"Was he doped?" I asked.

"Didn't ye niver hear tell from O'Toole an' Garnett? They was Andrews's mates for a spell, until th' Irishman, God bless him, knocked him overboards an' nearly killed him in a scuffle on th' India Docks."

"Cast loose; I want to hear," said the bos'n.

There was a moment's silence, and Chips looked at me as though questioning the senior officer of his watch. Then he fixed himself comfortably on the chest by jamming himself against the bulkhead, locking his hands about his knees, blowing smoke in a thick cloud.

I heard the hail of Trunnell from the bridge during this pause, asking about a t'gallant leach-line. Thinking it well to take a look out, I did so to see if the men obeyed his orders, and found them rather slow slacking the line. This made it necessary for me to take a hand in matters and instil a little discipline among them, which kept me on deck for some minutes.



IX

When I had a chance to slip back into the forward house, Chips had already "cast loose" and was in full swing.

"There ain't no use of tellin' everything one sees aboard ship," he was saying, "for you know whin things happen on deep water th' world ain't much th' wiser fer hearing about them. There ain't no telegraphs, an' th' only witnesses is the men concerned—or the wimmen. The men may or mayn't say a thing or two after getting the run av th' beach, but as th' critters have to wait half a year afore getting there, the news av th' occurrence wears off an' regard for the effects on th' teller takes place. It's just as often as not th' men keep mum. You know that as well as I do.

"This same Andrews as is forrads in irons was running the Starbuck with Jameson as mate, an' old Garnett as second under him. Ye all know that old pirit. But this time he didn't have any hand in Andrews's game. Andrews wanted to marry the girl Jameson had, an' whin he found he had lost her he played his devil's trick.

"Jameson hadn't been married a week afore Andrews took him around b' th' foot av Powell Street in 'Frisco an' set up some drinks. That's the last any one sees av Jameson fer a year or more on th' West Coast, fer whin he comes to, he was at sea on that old tank, th' Baldwin, an' old man Jacobs would as soon have landed him on th'moon as put him ashore."

"A purty bloomin' mean trick," interrupted the bos'n.

"Th' poor divil did have a hard time av it, fer he wasn't a very fierce sort o' chap. He ware a gentil spoken, kind-hearted feller, an' ye know well enough how a man what isn't made of iron wud git along wid Jacobs or his mates. They hazed him terrible; an', as they ware one hundred an' seventy days an' nights to Liverpool, he took the scurvy. Ye can reckon what was left av him afterwards. Whin he left th' hospital, he was glad enough to ship on a Chilean liner to get even as far to the West Coast as Valparaiso.

"He ware aboard this Dago, puttin' in, whin he saw th' Starbuck standin' out o' th' harbor. His wife ware on th' quarter-deck—"

"That's the way with most women," snarled the bos'n, interrupting.

"I don't know about that," continued Chips. "You see, after he had been gone a few months, an' Andrews had been hangin' around all th' time gettin' in his pisonous work, she began to have a little faith in th' villain. It wasn't long afore he convinced her Jameson had deserted, fer he proved fair enough he had shipped aboard th' Baldwin, without so much as saying good-by. There ware plenty of men to back him on that, includin' th' boatman what rowed them aboard. Finally, partly by blandanderin' an' a-feelin' around, fer th' poor gal ware now alone in th' world, he got her to step aboard th' bleedin' hooker Starbuck the day he ware ready for sea. Thin he jest stood out—an'—an'—well, after they'd been out six months th' matter ended as far as Jameson ware concerned.

"Jameson took the news hard whin he got th' run av th' beach, but he was that kindly disposed chap an' went along th' best he could until th' war broke out. He ware still waitin' at Valparaiso whin they drafted him into the Dago army, an' he was lucky enough to be on th' side what got licked. Then there ware no use waitin' there fer th' Starbuck to come in again, so he made a slant for Peru as they niver took no pris'ners. Two weeks afterwards Andrews came in again fer nitrates wid Garnett an' O'Toole fer mates—"

"Lucky fer Andrews he wasn't there," said the bos'n; "he'd have had his ornery hide shot full of holes."

"What's th' use av ye talking like a fool?" said Chips. "Is shootin' up a feller a-goin' to undo a wrong like that? Th' shootin' was all done on th' other side, an' Andrews is sound yet an' aboard this here ship. Some men think av other things besides revenge. Especially kind-hearted fellers like Jameson what niver cud hurt no one. As soon as some av Jameson's friends who knew of th' affair told his wife, she wint right into th' cabin where Andrews was, an' afore he knew what she ware up to, she had shot herself. Andrews paid her funeral expenses, an' buried her in th' little Dago cemetery out forninst th' city gate. An' thin Garnett, who didn't know av his skipper's diviltry, sware vengeance on th' husband who deserted her, fer she ware gentil and kind wid th' men forrads."

Here Chips paused and gave me a sidelong look as he refilled his pipe. Then he lit it and smiled hopefully.

"They ware a quare pair, them mates, Garnett an' O'Toole," he said. "What one wasn't th' other was, and wice wersa. They lay there two months loadin' on account o' th' war having blocked th' nitrate beds.

"Wan day O'Toole saw an old woman come limpin' along th' dock where th' Starbuck lay. She hobbled on to th' gang-plank an' started aboard, an' O'Toole began to chaff Garnett. He waren't half bad as a joker.

"''Pon me whurd, Garnett,' sez he, 'I do belave your own mother is comin' aboard to visit ye—but no, maybe it's yer swateheart, fer ye have an uncommon quare taste, ye know. B' th' saints, ye ware always a bold one fer th' ladies.'

"We ware lying in th' next berth, not twenty feet away, an' from where I sat on th' rail I cud hear thim talk an' see what was a-goin' on.

"'Stave me,' says old Garnett, solemn like, 'that's true enough. Sink her fer a fool, though, to be a-comin' down here to win back an old windjammer like me—What? ye mean that old hag driftin' along the deck? Blast you for a red-headed shell-back, d'ye s'pose I'd take up wid wimmen av your choice? No, I never makes a superior officer jealous;' an' wid that he takes out his rag an' mops th' dent in th' top av his head where there's no hair nor nothin' but grease, an' he draws out his little pestiverous vial av peppermint salts an' sniffs.

"'Faith, an' ye'll need to clear yer old head, ye owld raskil, ye've been too gay fer onct,' says O'Toole.

"She ware a tough-lookin' old gal, an' her hat brim flopped over her face. O'Toole met her an' pointed to Garnett.

"'If it's th' leddy-killer av th' fleet ye're afther, there he Stan's.'

"Th' old woman looked an' stopped.

"'No,' says she, in a sort o' jangled tone, 'eets my little gal I looks fer—she's aboard here wid th' capt'in,'

"'Ye can't see her,' says Garnett, 'an' ye better get ashore afore I calls one av thim Dago soldiers to carry ye off an' marry ye.'

"I cud jest get th' glint av th' old woman's eyes, then she bent her head lower.

"'E—eets my leetle gal I must see,' an' there was somethin' in her voice that made one pay attention, 'twas so deep an' solemn like. I ware listening an' a few soldiers av th' army what was camped in th' town came up an' stopped an' looked on.

"'She ware a good leetle gal—an' I cared for her—Yes, by God, she ware a good gal,' said th' old one, hoarsely.

"I cud see O'Toole turn away his head an' Garnett sniff hard at his vial. 'Twas good, he used to say, fer things in th' head. Thin he turned to th' old woman.

"'Ye better get ashore, old gal, she ain't aboard here. We don't take thim kind on deep water.'

"'I must see her afore I goes,' says th' old woman, an' her voice ware a whisper that died away, but ware so full av force O'Toole turned to her.

"'Was it Mrs. Jameson ye wished to see?' he asked.

"The old woman nodded.

"'Well—er—faith, an' she—er,' an' thin he stopped to look at Garnett.

"'She had an accident, by yer lave, 'bout a month ago. How was it ye niver hearn tell? Waren't ye here whin th' old man brought her ashore?'

"'I come from 'Frisco,' says she.

"'Well, I s'pose ye might as well know now as niver,' O'Toole blurted out; 'she's dead, owld woman. Been dead a month gone. Th' old man buried her dacent like, fer, as ye say, she ware a rale good gal, 'pon me whurd, fer a fact, she ware that. 'Tis hard to tell ye, but it's th' truth, th' whole truth, an' divil a bit besides.'

"While he talked th' old woman's head went lower, and whin he finished, she gave a hard gasp. Thin she stood huddled forninst th' deck-house, an' Garnett started forward to th' men at work stevin' th' last av th' cargo.

"All av a sudden like I saw her raise her face an' spit a button from her mouth. Her eyes ware starin' an' lookin' at th' hill away off t' th' eastward av th' town an' beyant to th' great southern mountings av th' Andes range. Thin she slowly straightened up an' walked wid a firm step along th' deck an' th' gang-plank.

"Th' soldier men made way for her on th' dock, but she looked straight beyant her nose an' held her way firm an' strong until she went out av sight, lavin' O'Toole starin' after her.

"''Pon me whurd, Garnett,' he called, ''tis a most wonderful thing, look!'

"''Tis a mother's love, ye haythen; 'pon me whurd, there's nothin' else like it. See how th' news affected th' poor old crayther. It puts me in mind av the time whin I had an old leddy t' look after me. 'Tis a rale jewil av a thing, an' a man only has it th' onct.'

"'More's th' pity,' says Garnett. 'Sink ye, but ye sure are a tough one to tell th' old gal on so short notice. But ye niver did have no feelin's, ye bloomin' heathen.'

"''Pon me sowl, what cud I do else?'

"'O' course, 'tain't likely a rough feller like you could do any better, but whin any wimmen folks come aboard agin, come to a man as is used to thim. A man as can talk an' act in a way they likes. A man wid some ways to him. A man—' Here he stooped an' picked up th' button th' old gal had dropped.

"'Where did this come from?' he asked.

"'She had it in her mouth,' says O'Toole.

"'Well, it's one av th' buttons off a uniform that ain't healthy to be wearin' around these parts just now.' An' then they both looked hard at th' little thing.

"'D'ye s'pose it cud have been?' asked O'Toole.

"'Been what?' says Garnett.

"'Jameson, ye blatherin' ijiot. Jameson, th' same as left his wife, a-comin' here huntin' for her. 'Twas so, fer a fact. He had it in his mouth to kape us from knowin' his voice, an' by th' same tokin, I calls to mind th' chokin' in his throat, the scand'lous owld woman he was.'

"'Stave me, but ye might have been right for onct in yer life, so bear a hand an' let's stand away after him an' ketch th' old leddy an' see,' says Garnett.

"They started off without listenin' to my hail, so I climbed down to th' dock an' follows. It was evenin' now, an' th' street was crowded, but they pushed along ahead av me.

"Ye see it ware Jameson, sure enough, an whin he heard his wife ware dead, he wint up that street like a man in a dream. He forgot all about his dress, an' his face ware hard set like a man thinkin' over th' past. He had some five minutes' start av th' mates, an' whin a poor beggar woman spoke to him he scared her half to death with his voice when he asked her th' way to th' cemetery. Thin he remembered his disguise, stepped into a doorway, pulled off th' dress an' hat an' flung thim to th' old beggar woman, an' went his way.

"Garnett an' O'Toole came along a few minutes later an' saw th' beggar.

"'There he is. That's him,' sung out the old sailor, pintin' to th' old gal walkin' along wid her rags tied in a bundle tucked under her arm, fer she had made shift to change thim fer Jameson's slops.

"''Pon me whurd, ye're right fer onct agin,' says O'Toole.

"'Well, don't go a-spoilin' th' thing this time. Let me sail inter him, an' if I wants yer, I'll sing out, an' ye can bear a hand an' help.' Garnett swung across th' street to overhaul th' old woman, an' came up behind her.

"'Evenin', old lady, I wants to have a talk wid ye;' an' he lays his hand on her shoulder wid a grip to take a piece av flesh out. She stopped an' turned quick.

"'Caramba!' she yells; 'I teach ye to insult a dacent old lady, you Yankee dog. Help! Murder! ye bloody raskil! Help, help!' Thin she ware upon him like a wild cat, a clawin' an' bitin', screechin' and yellin'.

"'Sink you for a bloody scoundrel, Jameson, I knows ye,' roared Garnett. 'Larry, there, bear a hand. I have him.'

"'Hold him thin, ye brave man,' sings out O'Toole, comin' up. 'Go it, owld gal, give it to him. 'Tis a leddy-killer he is fer sure, 'pon me whurd, fer a fact. Claw him, bite him, even though he's as tough as nails. Yell him deaf, owld leddy. Do it fer his mether's sake, th' scand'lous owld rake he is. Get his year in yer teeth an' hold on, fer 'tis a leddy-killer ye have in yer hands at last. Whang his hide off! Whang him! Whang him!' An' I thought th' old raskil would die av laffin'.

"We ware crowdin' around thim to see th' fun, an' th' way that old gal whanged an' lammed, an' lammed an' whanged, wud have brung tears to yer eyes. 'Twas too much fer human natur' to stan', an' so away goes Garnett down th' street as fast as his bow-legs can git him over th' beach, wid his sheets slacked off a-runnin' free, an' likewise, b' th' same tokin, away squares th' old leddy wid her skysails set an' everythin' drawin' 'cept her skirts, which she holds b' th' clews an' bunts.

"'After him! Catch th' blackguard!' bawls O'Toole, rolling on th' pavement, laffin' an' bawlin'.

"That old beggar was clipper built, fer sure, for wid her skirts clewed up she ware bearin' down fast on th' old mate an' kept his bow-legs a-lurchin' afore th' crowd a-comin' along in th' wake a-yellin' an' hootin' like mad. A man jumped out to stop him, but I knowed Garnett would niver stop this side o' th' gangway av his ship, an' sure 'nuff, out flashes his hand an? th' Dago rolls over an' over. They yelled harder than ever, an' Garnett had to shake out another reef afore he could make th' gang-plank, an' get aboard. He managed to get below jest as some soldiers rushed up. Th' noise brought Andrews on deck in time to get men to keep th' crowd off his ship, an' thin O'Toole comes up.

"'What's th' row?' he bawls to th' mate, but O'Toole ware laffin' so he couldn't spake a whurd. Finally he got it out.

"'Faith, 'tis th' leddy-killer av th' fleet, Garnett, at his owld game,' sez he. ''Pon me whurd, 'tis a hangin' matter this time, fer th' damage he's done th' sex. He ware—' but he bruk down afore he could finish.

"'Twas five minits afore he could tell what had happened, th' old gal cussin' an' swearin' an' th' crowd a-hootin' an' jeerin', but finally th' skipper got some soldiers to carry th' old gal away. Thin out comes Garnett on th' main deck a-smellin' av his little vial, but avoidin' av th' skipper's eye.

"'What th' devil did ye mean?' asked Andrews; 'did ye take her to be Jameson in disguise?'

"''Pon me whurd,' says O'Toole, 'th' first wan that comes aboard was no other—an' this one looked enough like him from a stern view. 'Tis a bad trade, though, this killin' av leddies.' An' he leered so at Garnett he swore horrible an' went forrads.

"I ware standin' close enough to catch th' glint in Andrews' eye whin this ware said, but he took no notice an' went ashore, an' as I followed after him he was thinkin' hard."

Here Chips spat quietly into the corner, fingered his pipe, and rammed the ash down. Then he looked up at the light, and a different expression came upon him. The bos'n's smile died away, and all sat listening for the finish. Far forward sounded the cries of men dressing down the head sheets.

"I hadn't much to do," continued Chips, softly, "so I walked on an' saw him stop at a flower stand an' buy a bunch av roses. I wint across to th' cemetery where th' trees are good to look at an' th' grass is green as th' sea nigh th' States. I hadn't gone far whin I sees a man standin' nigh a grave wid another man lyin' on it. I couldn't tell who th' men ware till I came close, fer 'twas now gettin' dark. Thin when Andrews stooped an' lifted th' head av th' one lyin' down, I saw them both plain enough. Jameson's head made me feel sick wid th' horror av it. Whin I spoke, Andrews let th' poor fellow sink back again, an' as I stood alongside I saw th' flowers th' skipper had bought lyin' on th' grave nigh th' hand av poor Jameson, which still held his pistil. Th' old man said nothin', but there ware a hard look in his eyes as I saw him lookin' at th' tops av th' big Chilean mountings where th' sunken sun made them a bloody red. He ware thinkin' hard, an' seemed to be watchin' a flock av vultures a-comin' over th' range, stringin' out in a long line av black specks. Thin all av a sudden he stooped an' picked up the flowers an' placed thim gentle like on th' head av the grave—'twas the only gentil thing I iver knew him to do—an' thin walked away without a word. That's th' last I saw av him until I shipped aboard here, for he cleared from Valparaiso th' next day."

"An' this is the beggar we're taking back to the States to be skipper of some American ship, maybe this same one, if he gets clear of the killing of his quartermaster off Melbourne," said the bos'n.

"An' that's the reason, by your leave, Mr. Rolling," said Jim, "I say it's best to go back again and deliver this man up to the proper authorities."

"As far as I'm concerned," I answered, "I would just as soon see him safe where the wind won't annoy him; but I'm not the skipper, and if you want to get any satisfaction you'll have to go aft."

"We did," said the bos'n; "we asked the old man, but he wouldn't hear of it, and Trunnell is with him."

"Trunnell is with him because he thinks it right," said Jim, with a shrewd look at me; "but if you were to try to persuade him, I believe he would come around all right."

"Why fo' not put him abo'ad the English ship, sah," put in the "doctor." "I votes we ax the ole man to put 'im abo'ad her."

All were agreeable to this proposition and decided to go aft the first thing in the morning watch. Jim stuck out for going back.

"If you were to go with us, Mr. Rolling, we might persuade Trunnell," said he.

"It's no use, he never would—" Before we could continue the discussion further the bells struck out loudly, and the bos'n and I went on deck for our watch.

It was a fine, clear night, and I was glad to get the course from the mate and walk fore and aft on the weather side of the poop to enjoy it.



X

The morning dawned calm and beautiful. The heavy, oily swell, which still ran from the effects of the blow, moved in long, smooth humps upon the sea. Far to the eastward the light of the rising sun tinted the cirrus clouds above with a rosy hue.

I was quite tired from the effects of the gale, and the morning watch is always a cheerless one. The steward had coffee ready, however, and after a good drink I felt better, and got out the glass to see if I could make out the Sovereign. We had been drifting all night, so that in the mid-watch Trunnell wore ship and stood up for her to keep in sight. There she lay, about three miles away off our port beam. Her topsail was the only canvas she had set, and she was so low in the water that I could not see her deck amidships at that distance. All except a little of her high poop appeared to be under, or so low that it was invisible. I wondered why her captain had not put off sooner, and I knew that as soon as Thompson came on deck he would be in a fury at his having waited so long. There was not a breath of air now, so we were certain to be in company for several hours at least.

While I looked over the expanse of heaving ocean I saw a black spot between the ships. In a moment I made out a boat rising and falling, propelled by four oars, and headed for us. Sometimes she would disappear behind a high lump of sea and then she would be on top, and I made out she was coming along right handily.

As she drew nearer I made her out to be full of men. She came up under our mizzen channels and hailed. Half the watch was bending over the side looking at her, and one man threw a line. This was seized, and the next moment her crew came clambering over the rail.

Jenks, the old sailor who had come over in the boat with me the day before, was on deck to receive his shipmates. The old fellow's face wrinkled with amusement at the sight of his worn-out countrymen until it looked like the slack of a bellows. There was an unholy twinkle in his eye as he greeted them.

On the boarding of the officer of the boat, a tall Englishman who was the ship's mate, the man Jenks stopped his pleasantry at the tired crew's expense, but it was too late. He was ordered into the boat, with three other men who were fresh, to be sent away for the remaining men on the ship. Then the officer mounted the poop just as Captain Thompson emerged from below.

The officer bowed and touched his hat deferentially, but the skipper stood looking at him out of his glinting eyes, while his nose worked and twitched.

"Don't seem to be in much of a hurry, hey?" said our captain, with his drawl.

"We've been working steadily all night at the pumps, sir, hopin' to keep her afloat, sir. The old man—I beg pardon, Captain Sackett,—says as he'll not abandon her while she swims. The rest of us have permission to go, sir."

"Is her cargo of any particular value, then?"

"Yes, sir. It's palm oil and valuable woods. There's eight hundred barrels of palm oil in her, and the captain's got his all—every cent he has in the world. He won't leave her."

"Do you know what you resemble, hey?" said our skipper, dryly.

"I do not, sir."

"Well, I don't want to hurt the feelings of a poor, shipwrecked sailor, nor insinuate nothing sech as no gentleman ought. No, sirree. You are my guest aboard here, and damned welcome to you. At the same time, if I ware telling anybody as to what kind of a fellow you was, I should say,—yessir, after thinking the matter over carefully, and taking all points into consideration,—I might say that I thought ye an all-around white-livered, cowardly cuss, an' that's a fact."

The English mate turned red. He started to say something, and then checked himself. Finally he blurted out:—

"I've heard tell of some Yankee skippers who've given a bad name to your infernal shipping, an' I reckon I've run up against one. But no fear! I recognize you as our saviour, an' won't say a word, sir. The retort courteous, as the saying is, would be a crack on the jaw of such a fellow, but I don't say as I'll do it, sir. There's some fellows as needs rippin' up the back, but you bein' captain of this here ship, I won't say who they is, sir. No, sir, I won't say who they is, or nothin'. I just ask that I be sent back aboard the Sovereign. The boat ain't gone yet, and, by the Lord, I'll drown before I get into a ship like this."

"Well, by hookey, you won't, then," snarled the captain; "you'll stay aboard this boat. A man that's born to be hung mustn't be drowned. Hey, there, Rolling," he bawled, looking forward to where I stood, "get out the boat and go with those fellows. Get all the rest afeard to stay aboard, and come back. We won't stay here all day waiting for a lot of fellows too afeard to know what they want."

The noise of the talking brought a female figure to the combings of the companionway, and as the skipper finished, Miss Sackett stood on deck.

The mate of the Sovereign greeted her, and told of her father's determination to stay aboard his ship with three men who desired the chance to make heavy salvage. He didn't suppose any of the crew of the Pirate cared to take chances, but if they did, he would let them. He said he could work the wreck into some port, probably Cape Town, and save her.

"But he will surely be lost," cried Miss Sackett. "I shall go to him myself and persuade him not to do this foolish thing. You will let me go in one of the boats, won't you, Captain Thompson?" she cried, turning to our skipper.

Thompson was sour, but he admired nerve. The fact of the Englishman staying alone aboard his wrecked ship appealed to him where nothing else would.

"My dear madam," said he, with his drawl, "you shall certainly do jest what you want to while I'm captain of this boat. But I wouldn't persuade your father to do anything against his will. How could a sensible fellow refuse you anything, hey?"

The young girl overlooked his insolence, and smiled her satisfaction. She came forward to where the first boat was getting ready to shove off. The men in her were sullen and ugly, for they had not had their breakfast, and the row would be a long one. The old sailor, Jenks, with his pop eyes, and face like the slack of a bellows, scowled sourly. At this moment our third officer came on deck and to the lady's side. I was just about to ask her to wait and go in my boat when I heard the shrill tones of our Mr. Bell.

"Clear that boat, and stand by to pass this lady aboard," said he, with some show of authority, and a clever nautical style. "Allow me?" he continued, as he offered her his arm at the ladder.

His shrill voice caused a smile of wonder and amusement among the strangers, but as they knew their own skipper's daughter, they said nothing besides a few remarks among themselves.

"Won't you wait and have breakfast before you go," he asked her, as she reached the top of the rail; but she refused, and decided that her father's strange whim to stay aboard his sinking ship deserved first consideration.

"In that case I shall have to go along also, for you may be very much exhausted before getting back."

Just what good he could do in such a case he did not stop to explain, but climbed over the side, and after lowering her aboard, took his place beside her in the stern sheets. Then he gave orders to get clear, and the boat shot away, while I made shift to get my men something to eat before taking the long pull.

In fifteen minutes we were ready to start. Chips wanted to go along to see if anything could be done to help stop the leak in case Captain Sackett still insisted staying aboard. Johnson, the little sailor with the thin legs set wide apart, showing daylight between clear to his waist, Hans, the heavy-shouldered Swede, and Phillippi, a squat Dago, made up the rest of the boat's crew. Trunnell had come on deck while we were eating from the mess-kids, and met the skipper on the poop, where he stopped to talk over some important matter. This importance appeared to increase in a moment, for the skipper swore harshly and pointed forward just as my men were coming aft to go over the side.

"Rolling," he cried, "hold on with that boat a minute, and lay aft here," I came to the edge of the poop.

"Get that ruffian Andrews ready and put him aboard the Sovereign. The men here are tired of his ways, and fair exchange is no robbery. We'll take their men, they'll take one of ours, hey? Do you rise to that?"

I understood. The men had made it apparent they did not wish to have the fellow aboard since he persisted in his murderous ways. The skipper had been importuned by Jim to turn back and put him ashore. This he would not think of doing, but to propitiate them he had struck upon this new method of getting rid of his charge.

I called Jim, the young landsman, to lend a hand getting the fellow ready. Andrews cursed us all around and demanded to know what we were going to do with him. No attention was paid to him, however, and he was bundled into the boat, handcuffed, with his legs free.

"Tell Captain Sackett I say he's welcome to him," drawled out Thompson, over the poop rail. "Good luck to you, Andrews," he continued; "you'll have a pleasant voyage with no enemies to rip and cut. So long!"

This drew forth a volley of oaths from Andrews, but the skipper smiled, and we were soon out of earshot.

"What do you make of the weather, sir?" asked Jim, who pulled stroke oar. I looked over the smooth, heaving surface of the quiet ocean, and there was not the first sign of a breeze anywhere. The sun was partly obscured in a thick haze which seemed to come from everywhere and fill the entire atmosphere. The first boat was almost aboard the wreck, and we could see her looking like a black speck in the distance.

"It looks as though it might come on thick," I answered Jim, "but there's no danger of our parting company with the Pirate yet. There isn't enough wind to move her a knot an hour."

It was a long, hard pull to the Sovereign and when we arrived her captain was on deck with his daughter. She had finished trying to persuade him to leave his fortune, and stood near our third officer, who was ready to start back with the remainder of the crew. All but four men had insisted on leaving. These were the steward, two quartermasters, and a sailor.

"If there is any valuable stuff in the way of currency or spices, you can turn them over to me, and our captain will give you his receipt for them," I said, as I came over the side.

The little Englishman looked slowly up and down my six feet and more of length as I stood on the rail, and I fancied he smiled slightly. He was a florid-faced, bearded man, with clear blue eyes which had no sign of fear in them.

"I reckon we'll risk taking in what we have," said he; "at the same time I want to thank your captain for standing by and taking the men he has already. You don't think he could spare a few volunteers to help me in, do you? I'll give a hundred pounds to every man who'll stand by and run the risk."

"Well," I stammered, "I'm second mate myself, and therefore can't very well leave; but he's sent you one extra hand. The fellow is a good enough sailor, but he's in irons for fighting. He wants you to take him in exchange for the men you've sent."

The florid face of the English captain grew redder. His blue eyes seemed to draw to small points that pricked my inner consciousness. I suppose I showed some of my embarrassment, for he spoke in a gentler tone than I expected.

"Sir. I keep no one in peril against his wish. Neither do I run a convict ship. You may take your desperado back to your captain with the compliments of Captain Sackett, once of Her Majesty's Naval Reserve, and tell him the laws of his country are sufficient to deal with all persons."

"If I did," I answered, "you would have your men forced back into your wrecked vessel." And I pointed to the main deck, upon which the sea rolled and swashed in little foamy waves through the side ports, which were now below the heave of the swell. She was clear under amidships, and only the topgallant forecastle and poop were out of water, which was now nearly level with the floor in the after cabin. Everything showed wreck and ruin, from the splintered spars and tangled rigging to the yellow-white gaps in her bulwarks where the masts had crashed through.

"The will of the Lord is not to be set aside," he went on, with solemn and pious cheerfulness. "I would not risk so many lives for a man in irons. If, however, he will recognize the laws of the Almighty, I shall turn him adrift and trust that my mercy will not meet with ingratitude. You had better get my men ready, and if you can, take the trunks and cabin fixings in a boat. They might come to wrong here. My daughter will show where the things are I should like saved. As for myself, I shall stay where duty calls me, and will take this ship into some port and save her cargo, or go down in her. If I lose her, I lose my all, and with a wife and family I had better be gone with it. The Lord will temper the wind to the shorn lambs."

I called to Hans and Johnson to pass up the prisoner, and he soon stood on the Sovereign's poop, where he glared around him and made some inaudible remarks. The third mate, who stood near by, was about to speak to him when Captain Sackett stepped forward.

"My man," said he, "your captain has asked me to keep you here and help me work this ship in. You've been a master yourself, they tell me, so you will appreciate my difficulty. The Lord, however, always helps those who help themselves, and with his help we will land this vessel safe in port."

Andrews looked at the stout skipper sourly for a moment. Then he gave a deep snort and spat vulgarly upon the deck at his host's feet.

"What kind o' damn fool have I run up ag'in now, hey?" he mused in a low tone, as though speaking to himself, while he looked the skipper over. "Am I dreamin', or do I eternally run up ag'in nautical loonatic asylums? That's the question."

"My dear fellow, you don't seem to relish the fact that you must serve aboard here," said Sackett. "There's nothing irrational in trying to save a vessel when it's your plain duty to do so. The Lord sometimes dismasts us to try us. We must not give up our duty because we have hardships to encounter. Your captain cannot take care of so many people, probably, and wishes you to stay here with me. If you will pass your word to do your share of the work, as I believe you will, I shall cast off those irons this instant and put you second in command. There will then be five of us, all able-bodied men, to get her in to the Cape."

"Of all the slumgullion I ever had stick in my craw, this beats me," observed the prisoner, in his even tone, without taking his eyes off Sackett. "I pass my word, an' you turn me loose to do my duty. Well—say, old man, can you tell me of a miracle you reads out o' your Bible? I wants to make a comparison." Here he gave a loud snort and grinned. "There's an old sayin' that any port is good in a storm," he went on, "an' likewise any ship in a calm. I rise to it, old man. I'll be your mate; for, if things ain't all gone wrong, I'll sail straight inter Heaven with ye. Cast me loose."

"It shall be done at once," said Sackett. "I shall request, sir," said he, turning to me, "that the irons be stricken off your man."

I told Chips to go ahead and cut them, and then followed Miss Sackett and the third mate below, to get what belongings they wanted sent aboard the Pirate to be kept clear of water.

"It's a pity papa will do this absurd thing," said Miss Sackett, impetuously, as she landed upon the cabin deck. I was following close behind her on the companion and hastened to cheer her.

"There's not much danger," I said; "for the vessel can't possibly sink with all the oil and wood in her. He will probably bring her in all right and save many thousands of dollars. Maybe the carpenter can find the leak and plug it. In that case she'll be as sound as a dollar and safe as a house, when they get her pumped."

"I don't know about it," she answered; "I feel that papa is going to his death, and I know that if mamma finds out he won't leave, she'll come back aboard. Here is one trunk. That chest under the berth is to go also. I'll get what clothes I can gather up, and bring them along in a bundle. Goodness! hear the water slapping about under the deck; it is perfectly dreadful to think of any one staying aboard a ship half sunk like this."

The steward, a very clever-looking young man with a brown mustache, helped us get the things on deck, where they were taken in charge by the rest of the men, seven in number, who were going with us.

While we were below, Chips, after cutting Andrews adrift, tried to find out where the leak was located. The vessel's hold was so full of water, however, that he gave up the search. Only a survey of her bilge outside would help clear up matters, and allow work upon it.

Captain Sackett had taken an observation and had figured himself out to be within six hundred miles of Cape Town. He was very thankful for our kindness and stood near by, wishing us all kinds of good luck, while the things were being lowered over the ship's low side. In a few minutes all hands were called to get into the Pirate's boat, the one of the Sovereign being left for the safety of those on board. Miss Sackett took a tearful farewell of her father, and was placed aft. Then we shoved off, and were soon leaving the half-sunken ship astern.

"Cap'n," said Jenks, who sat aft near me, "what d'ye make o' that?"

He pointed to a white bank of vapor which had rolled up from the southward, and suddenly enveloped the Sovereign while we were still two cable lengths distant. I looked and saw the white mist, which we had not noticed before to be so dense, rolling in long white clouds upon the calm surface of the ocean. In a moment it had enveloped us, and all around us was a white wall, the Pirate disappearing ahead. The swell also appeared to be getting a cross roll to it, and a light air now blew in our faces.

I made no answer to the leather-faced sailor, but tried to keep the boat's head before a heavier roll of the sea, and the wake as much like a straight line as possible. There was no compass in the craft, and it would take some nice guesswork to find a ship three miles away.



XI

We went along in silence for some time, the fog seeming to fall like a pall upon the spirits of the men. The wash of the oars and the gurgle of the bow-wave were the only sounds that were audible. After half an hour of this I arose and sent a hail through the bank of mist, which I thought would reach a vessel within half a mile. There was no sound of an answer, the dank vapor appearing to deaden my hail and swallow up all noise a short distance beyond the boat. It was uncanny to feel how weak that yell appeared. I saw Jim looking at me with a strange light in his eyes as though he felt danger in the air.

After an hour more of it, the faces of the men plainly showed their anxiety. Phillippi, the Dago, was chewing the corner of his dank mustache, and his eyes wandered aft and then forward. Jenks, with his large wrinkled face gray with the vapor, sat staring ahead, straining his ears for the slightest sound that would locate the vessel. I put both hands to my mouth again, and strained away my hardest. There was no response, the sound falling flat and dull in the wall of mist. Then I knew we were in danger, and gave the order to stop rowing.

The silence around us was now oppressive. We were all waiting to hear some sound that would locate either one or the other of the vessels. The breeze carried the masses of vapor in cool spurts into our faces, and I felt sure the Pirate would soon change her bearings under its influence. We had been running away from the main heave of the sea, as I supposed, but now there appeared to be a sidelong motion running with the swell and at an angle to its general direction.

"'Tis no manner av use tryin' to keep along as we are, d'ye think so?" suggested Chips. "We must have passed her."

I hailed again, and after waiting for an answer, headed the boat around in the hope that we had overreached the ship, and would come within hailing distance on our way back. The order was given to pull very easily, and listen for sounds.

"This is most disgusting," said Miss Sackett. "I'm as hungry as a bear, and here we'll be out for the Lord only knows how long. I think you might have seen to it that I had some breakfast." And she looked at Mr. Bell, our third officer.

"There's water under the stern sheets," suggested that officer, meekly. But the young lady gave a pretty pout, and shrugged her shoulders.

In a little while we stopped again and hailed loudly. The only sound in answer was the low hiss of a sea, which had begun to make with the breeze, and which broke softly ahead.

Suddenly we heard the distant clang of a ship's bell. It sounded far away to starboard.

"Give way, bullies, strong," I cried, and the next instant we were heading toward it. Then it died away, and we heard it no more.

After ten minutes' pull, we stopped again, for fear of overreaching our mark. We hailed and got no answer. Then we rowed slowly along, listening in the hope they would ring again. In a little while we lay drifting, and all hands strained their ears for sound.

Suddenly something alongside gave a loud snort. I started up, and the men turned their faces forward. A deeper shadow seemed to hang over us, and the breeze died away. Then the snort was repeated, and a voice spoke forth:—

"Of all the damned fools I ever see, that second mate stands way ahead. Now I onct thought Trunnell didn't know nothin', but that young whelp is a pizenous fool, an' must be ripped up the back. Sackett, old man, your daughter can't leave ye. Here she be alongside with them boatmen agin."

The voice was drawling and not loud, but I recognized it fast enough.

In an instant the boat's bow struck the side of the Sovereign, and we saw Andrews leaning over the rail near us, looking down with a sour smile.

There was nothing to do but go aboard, for we had nothing to eat in the small boat, and the danger of getting lost entirely was too great to make another attempt to get back to the Pirate while the fog lasted.

Miss Sackett was helped over the rail by her father, who came up immediately, and the rest scrambled over with some choice English oaths as they commented upon their luck. Andrews gave me a queer look as I climbed past him, and for an instant I was ready to spring upon him. But he gave a snort of disgust and turned away.

Chips, Jim, and the others of our crew came aboard, and the small boat was dropped astern where she towed easily, the breeze just giving the sunken ship steering way under the storm topsail.

The beef barrels were in no way injured by their immersion in salt water, so Captain Sackett gave the steward orders to prepare a meal for all hands upon the cabin stove. Salt junk and tinned fruits were served for everybody who cared to eat them, and afterward all hands felt better. The ship's water-tanks were full of good water, and as she listed considerably to starboard under the gentle breeze, owing to her water-logged condition, the port tank was accessible from the deck pipe.

I had enough to eat before coming out, and the predicament we were in did not tend to strengthen my appetite. I, however, made out to sit down at the cabin table with Captain Sackett, Andrews, who was now his mate, and our third officer. Miss Sackett joined us, and we fell to.

No sooner had Andrews started to shovel in the good junk, and Mr. Bell the fruit, than Sackett arose from the table and looked severely down upon them. Fortunately, my satisfied appetite had prevented any unnecessary hurry to eat on my part, for our new skipper frowned heavily.

"I wish to give thanks, O Lord," said he, raising his eyes toward the skylight and dropping his voice into a dignified tone, "for thy kind mercy in delivering us from the perils of the deep. Make us duly thankful for thy mercy and for the food thou hast seen fit to place before us."

"Amen," sounded a gruff voice beside me.

I looked at Andrews, but he appeared to pay no attention whatever to what was transpiring. Then I turned to Sackett to see if he had taken offence.

The stout, ruddy-faced skipper seemed to be changed to stone for an instant, and his fixed glare was full upon Andrews.

The ruffian appeared to enjoy the situation, for he gave a fierce snort and turned his face to the skipper.

"No offence, old man, sit down and eat your grub. There's no use working up unchristian-like feeling between us simply because I'm not going to let any damn foolishness stand between me and my vittles. Eat while ye may, says I, and God bless you for a kind-hearted, gentle skipper. You says yourself that the Lord helps them as helps themselves, which goes to show I'll just make a stab for another piece o' that junk before some other son of a gun runs afoul of it an' helps himself. Which would be goin', o' course, agin the will o' the Lord."

Sackett hardly breathed. His face turned purple with rage. Andrews took no notice of him save to draw a revolver from his pocket and place it on the table beside his plate.

"Sit down and eat, papa," said Miss Sackett, who was at his right hand, and as she did so she placed her hand upon his shoulder.

The touch of his daughter's hand seemed to bring the skipper back to his senses, or rather seemed to enable him to thrust his present feelings aside for her sake. He sat down and stared at Andrews for fully a minute, while that ruffian ate and winked ofttimes at Mr. Bell. Once in a while he would give a loud snort and hold his face upward for an instant. Then a sour smile would play around his ugly mouth as though he enjoyed his humor intensely. The third officer frowned severely at him several times, and then asked in his silly voice if he would please behave himself.

The effect was altogether too ludicrous to be borne. Miss Sackett smiled in spite of herself and I almost laughed outright. Then, feeling sorry for my host, I began to eat as an excuse to hide my feelings. Sackett ate little, and in silence. When he was through, he arose and left for the deck, leaving the rest of us at the table. Miss Sackett followed him quickly, as though she instinctively felt what might happen if she remained.

I sat there looking at Andrews for some moments. He raised his head several times and gave forth his peculiar snort, smiling at Mr. Bell. "Young fellow," said he, slowly, "we've had a turn or two, an' nothin' much has come of it. Let's shake an' call it square." And he held out his hand toward me.

"I suppose you really had some cause to lose your temper," I answered, "the day I hailed you from the poop, because you were used to commanding there. I've heard many unpleasant things about you, Captain Andrews, but if you will let matters pass, I'm willing. I never turned down a man yet on hearsay when he was willing to see me half way."

Here I took his hard, muscular hand and held it for a moment. He smiled sourly again, but said no more about our fight.

"Ye see," he went on, after a moment's pause, "I'm second in command here now, and I'll show you no such treatment like what I got aboard the Pirate. This gun I has here is only to let a man see his limit afore it's too late. If I didn't show it, he might go too far, and then—well, I reckon ye know just what might happen, being as Trunnell has told you what a gentle, soft-hearted fellow I am. He's a rum little dog, that fuzzy-headed fellow, Trunnell. Did ye ever see sech arms in anything but an ape? 'Ell an' blazes, he could squeeze a man worse than a Coney Island maiden gal. Speakin' of maidens, jest let me hint a minute in regard to the one aboard here. She's a daisy. An out an' out daisy. An' if there's a-goin' to be any love-makin' going on around, I'll do it. Yes, sir, don't take any of my duties upon yourself. I'll do it. I'll do it. Jest remind yourself of that, Mr. Rolling, an' we'll get along fust rate. The old man don't know me yet, but Mr. Bell here—well, Mr. Bell knows a thing or two concernin' captains which'll be worth a heap of gold to some people."

The third mate looked at me with his boyish eyes for an instant, and his ruddy cheeks seemed to blush. Then he said softly:—

"What he means is, that you and the rest are only passengers, now. All the men from the Pirate, you know. There'll be some salvage for the four who elected to stay aboard this vessel, and if you understand it in this light, you, Chips, Jim, and the rest are welcome as passengers. If you don't, the boat is at your disposal any time."

"I see," I said. "You are also of the party elected to stay with Captain Sackett and draw salvage?"

"That's about the size of it."

I went on deck, and Chips, Jim, and the men went below to get something to eat. Sackett was standing at the break of the poop as I came up, and his daughter stood beside him. They were evidently in earnest conversation over the scene below, for as I drew near, Miss Sackett turned to me and said with some show of contempt in her voice:—

"Your captain was very kind to send us your volunteer, and we appreciate it, Mr. Rolling. Perhaps the reason he had no more men offer their services for a dangerous mission was because he was short of irons."

"If you mean that American sailors have to be ironed into danger, you are mistaken," I answered, somewhat nettled. "However, I quite agree with you in regard to this one as an awkward fellow. Better wait and see how he acts in time of danger before condemning him."

I had not the heart to tell her what a ruffian they had turned loose upon her father. It would do little good, for Sackett had passed his word to make Andrews second in command, and I knew from what I had seen of this religious skipper, that he would keep it at any cost. As for Chips, myself, and the rest of the men, seven of the Sovereign's crew and ourselves, we were simply passengers, as Mr. Bell had informed us. We had no right whatever to take any part in affairs aboard, for the salvage would fall to those who elected to stay.

Captain Sackett moved away from me as I stood talking to his daughter and showed he did not wish to discuss Andrews. He went to the edge of the poop and stared down on the main deck where the water surged to and fro with the swell. He had a badly wrecked ship under him, and there was little time to lose getting her in better condition, for a sudden blow might start to break her up, or roll the seas over her so badly that no one could live aboard.

I stood for some minutes talking to the young girl, and when her father spoke to me she held out her hand, smiling. "We'll be shipmates now and you'll have a chance to show what a Yankee sailor can do. I believe in heroes—when they're civil," she added.

"Unfortunately for the worshipper of heroes, there is a great deal left to the goddess Chance, in the picking of them," I answered. "Admiration for human beings should not be hysterical."

"From the little I've seen of men during the six voyages I've made around the world in this ship with papa, your advice is somewhat superfluous," she said, with the slightest raising of the eyebrows. Then she went aft to the taffrail and stood gazing into the fog astern.

"Mr. Rolling," said Sackett, "there's no use of thinking about leaving the ship while the fog lasts, now. You might have made the Pirate by close reckoning before, but she must have changed her bearings fully a half a dozen points since you started. She's under canvas, and this breeze will send her along at least six knots and drift her two with her yards aback. You might as well take hold here and get some of your men to lend a hand. The foremast is still alongside, and we might get a jury rig on her without danger of heeling her on her bilge. She's well loaded, the oil and light stuff on top, so she won't be apt to turn turtle."

It was as he said. We were all in the same ship, so as to speak, wrecked and water-logged to the southward of the Cape. The best thing to do was to take it in the right spirit and fall to work without delay, getting her in as shipshape condition as possible. The fog might last a week, and the Pirate might get clear across the equator before stopping a second time in her course. I knew that even Trunnell would not wait more than a few hours; for if we did not turn up then, it was duff to dog's-belly, as the saying went, that we wouldn't heave in sight at all. The ocean is a large place for a small boat to get lost in, and without compass or sextant there would be little chance for her to overhaul a ship standing along a certain course.

The dense vapor rolled in cool masses over the wreck, and the gentle breeze freshened so that the topsail, which still drew fair from the yard, bellied out and strained away taut on a bowline, taking the wind from almost due north, or dead away from the Cape. The Sovereign shoved through it log-wise under the pull, the swell roaring and gurgling along her sunken channels and through her water ports. She was making not more than a mile an hour, or hardly as fast as a man could swim, yet on she went, and as she did so, she was leaving behind our last hope of being picked up.



XII

The first night we spent aboard the hulk was far from convincing us of her seaworthiness. I had been in—a sailor is never "on board"—two ships that had seen fit to leave me above them, but their last throes were no more trying to the nerves than the ugly rooting of the Sovereign into the swell during that night. At each roll she appeared to be on the way to turn her keel toward the sky, and, at a plunge slowly down a sea-slope, she made us hold our breaths. Down, down, and under she would gouge, the water roaring and seething over sunken decks amidships, and even pouring over the topgallant rail until it would seem certain she was making her way to the bottom, and I would instinctively start to rise from the cabin transom to make a break for the deck. Then she would finally stop and take a slow heave to windward, which started a Niagara thundering below the deck, where the cargo was torn loose and sent crashing about in a whirlpool.

I once read a description by an English landsman of a shipwreck, and he told how the water would rest for an instant level with the rail, seeming to pause motionless for a fraction of a second before flowing over and sinking the ship, I lay a long time wondering vaguely at an imagination that could make such a description possible, and as a heaving swell would start along the rail at the waist, and go thundering along in a roaring surf the entire length of the midship section over the edge, fetching up with a crash against the forward cabin bulkhead, I heartily wished the writer were aboard to share our sufferings. There was no spoon and teacup business about that ship, and it sometimes seemed as though seven or eight seas were rolling over her rails from all directions at once.

We were still below the thirty-eighth parallel, and consequently the morning broke early, for it was January and midsummer. I arose from the transom and went on deck at dawn, and found that the fog had lifted. Andrews met me as I came from below, and gave me a nod as I took in the horizon line at a glance.

"I reckon old hook-nose didn't care to wait any longer," he growled sourly.

I took up the glass from the wheel box, and scanned the line carefully. There was not a thing in sight save the smooth swell, ruffled now by the slight breeze, and turning a deep blue-gray in the light of the early morning. The sun rose from a cloudless horizon and shone warmly upon the wreck. The foam glistened and sparkled in the rosy sunlight, and looking over the rail I could see deep down into the clear depths. The copper on the ship's bilge looked a light gray, and even the tacks were visible. She drifted slowly along with just steering way, and the spar alongside, which the men had tried to get aboard again, made a gurgling wake with its heel.

"What do you make of it, Chips?" I asked, as the carpenter waded out in the waist and came up the poop ladder.

"Long cruise an' plenty o' water, that's about th' size av ut, don't ye think, sir?" the carpenter answered. "Trunnell has been took off, fer sure. I don't mind stickin' aboard th' bleedin' hooker if there was a chanst to get th' salvage; but no fear o' that while Andrews is here. He'll block any argument to divvy up. Seems as we might even get down under her bilge durin' this spell av weather, an' see where th' leak is located. 'Tis a butt started, most like. Them English stevedores generally rams th' stuffin' out av a ship in spite av th' marks they puts on 'em."

Captain Sackett came from below and joined us.

"I'd like to get that foremast aboard while it holds calm," said he; "and if you'll start the men, we'll have it done by noon. The sooner we all work together, the better. We ought to get sail on forward in less than a week, and then, with a jury topmast, make enough way to get in while the grub holds out."

The steward got breakfast in the after-cabin, and as soon as the men had eaten they were turned to rigging tackles to hoist the dragging foremast aboard. It was trailing by the lee rigging, which had held, and it had thumped and pounded along the ship's side to such an extent during the blow that several of her strakes were nearly punched through. It was a beautiful morning,—the blue sky overhead and the calm, blue ocean all around us. The men worked well, and even the sour ruffian, Andrews, who stood near and took charge of part of the work,—for he was an expert sailor,—seemed to brighten under the sun's influence. Chips went to work at the stump of the foremast, and cut well into it at a point almost level with the deck. This he fashioned into a scarf-joint for a corresponding cut in the piece of mast which had gone overboard. Tackles were rigged from the main-topmast head, and, by a careful bracing with guys forward and at both sides, the wreck of the foremast was slowly raised aboard.

The Sovereign forged ahead faster when relieved of this load. On the second day, when we had the foremast fished, and the yards, which had held to it, safe on deck, ready to be hoisted and slung again, we found that the vessel had made over seventy miles to the westward along the thirty-eighth parallel. This was over a mile an hour; but of course some of this drift was due to the edge of the Agullas current, which was setting somewhat to the southward and westward.

Andrews had little to say to me or to Chips. In fact, he appeared to be satisfied with his lot now that he seemed sure of getting salvage money. Only Jim, who seemed to have eyes everywhere, distrusted the man, and spoke to me about him. We had now been on the wreck five days, working and rigging away at the foremast, and the calm, beautiful weather held with no signs of a change. Jim was hanging over the side, resting his feet on the fore channels while he helped Chips to bolt in a deadeye which had been torn out when the mast had gone. The sun was warm and shone brilliantly, and Chips sweated and grunted as he pounded away at the iron. There were no other men in our immediate vicinity, so after pounding away in silence for a quarter of an hour, the carpenter spoke.

"'Tis bloody well we've been treated to get no share av the wreck, whin here we are sweatin' our brains out wid th' work av refittin'," said he.