The spacious deck of the French ship seemed to be crowded with men, as far as I could see through the thick pall of powder smoke that wreathed and twisted hither and thither in the eddying draughts of wind, but there were great gaps among them filled with prostrate figures, heaped upon each other, some lying stark and still, others writhing and screaming with agony, bearing fearful witness to the havoc wrought by our grape and canister, the discharge of which, at such close quarters, seemed to have stunned and stupefied the Frenchmen, for not a hand was raised to oppose me as I sprang down off the rail. I darted a quick glance along the deck, noticed that the skipper was leading his party on board, aft, and then made a cut at the Frenchman nearest me.

This woke him up. He hurriedly raised his cutlass to guard the blow, and the next moment we were at it, cut, thrust, and parry, as hard as we could go. Our attack being made upon the two extremities of the brigantine's deck, we soon had her crew hemmed in between the skipper's and my own party, and for the next ten minutes there was as pretty a fight as one need wish to witness, the Frenchmen rallying gallantly to the call of their captain. The hubbub was terrific, the clash of steel, the popping of pistols, the shrieks, groans, and outcries of the wounded, the execrations of the Frenchmen, the cheers of our own lads, and the grinding of the ships together, creating a perfectly indescribable medley of sound. The struggle threatened to be stubborn and protracted, the Frenchmen at our end of the ship obstinately disputing every inch of the deck with us. I therefore determined to make a special effort, and see what the mere physical strength, of which I possessed a goodly share, would do for us.

There was a handspike lying upon the deck, under my feet, which I had tripped over and kicked aside twice or thrice, so, suddenly hitting out with my left fist, I knocked down the man who happened to be at the moment opposed to me, quickly stooped and seized the handspike, dropped my sword, and, singing out to our own lads to give me room, I swung my new weapon round my head and brought it down with a crash upon the two or three Frenchmen nearest me. The force of the blow made my arm tingle to the elbow, but it swept the Frenchmen down as though it had been a scythe, and caused those behind to recoil in terror. Another flail-like sweep proved equally effective, the cutlasses raised to guard the blows being as useless as so many wands, and when I followed it up with a third it proved too much for the Frenchmen, who, seeing their comrades go down before me like ninepins, gave way with a yell of dismay, retreating aft until they were all jammed and huddled together like sheep, so closely that they had no room to fight effectively. The French captain, as I took him to be, finding things going badly in our direction, forced his way through the crowd, and, perhaps regarding me as the chief mischief-maker, levelled a pistol at my head and fired. I felt the ball graze my scalp, but at the same instant my handspike descended upon the unhappy man's head. I saw the blood spurt out over his face, and down he went. This proved sufficient. The Frenchmen nearest me threw down their weapons and cried that they surrendered. The cry was taken up by the rest, and the brigantine was won.

The first thing now to be done was to see to the wounded. The carnage had been very great in proportion to the numbers engaged, and our men had no sooner sheathed their weapons than they went to work among the ghastly prostrate forms to separate the wounded from the dead. This task was soon completed, and it was then discovered that our loss had not been nearly so great as I had feared; the dead amounting to eleven, and the wounded to nineteen, three of whom were dangerously injured. Our own dead and wounded were carefully removed to the schooner, and then,—the unwounded Frenchmen having been driven below and securely confined in the hold,—the skipper put me in charge of the prize, with a crew of twenty men, and the two craft made sail in company, in pursuit of the merchantman, which was now hull-down in the south-western quarter. The moment that the two craft were clear of each other, and the sails trimmed, I set my people to work to convey the wounded Frenchmen below to the cabin, where, the vessel by good luck being provided with a surgeon, they were quickly attended to. When this was done it was found that the French loss totalled up to no less than twenty-seven killed and forty-four wounded, out of a complement of one hundred men with which she had commenced the engagement. She was a heavily-manned vessel, for, in addition to the number already given, she had thirty men on board the prize.

Having seen the wounded carried below, the dead thrown overboard, and the decks washed down, I had an opportunity to look about me a bit, and take stock of the noble craft that we had captured. She turned out to be the Tigre of Nantes, thirty-four days out, during which she had captured only one prize, namely, the ship of which we were now in pursuit. She was a brand-new vessel, measuring three hundred and seventy-six tons, oak-built, coppered, and copper fastened; of immense beam, and very shallow, drawing only ten feet six inches of water. She was extraordinarily fast with the wind over her quarter, running away from the Dolphin easily. But I suspected that in a thrash to windward, in anything of a breeze, the schooner would prove to be quite a match for her, with, perhaps, a trifle to spare. She mounted fourteen twelve-pounders, and her magazine was crammed with ammunition, it having been the intention of her captain to try his luck, like ourselves, in the West Indian waters.

It was about six bells in the afternoon watch when we filled away in pursuit of the ship, and the sun was within half an hour of his setting when we overtook and brought her to, the Dolphin being at that time some two miles astern of us. I knew that there were thirty Frenchmen on board her, but did not anticipate any resistance from them, since it would be perfectly clear to them that anything of the kind, although it might temporarily prevent our taking possession, would be utterly useless in the end, and only result in loss of life. I therefore lowered a boat, and, taking with me ten men armed to the teeth, proceeded on board and secured undisputed possession of the ship. My first act was to release the crew of the prize, after which the disarmed Frenchmen were transferred to the brigantine, and confined below along with their comrades, and while this was still in process of performance the Dolphin joined company, and Captain Winter came on board. He fully approved of all that had been done, and directed me to remain on board in charge, shifting himself over into the brigantine and placing the schooner under the temporary command of Comben. By the time that all these arrangements had been completed the night had fallen, dinner was about to be served in the cuddy, and at the earnest invitation of the captain of the ship, the skipper accepted a seat at the table. Meanwhile, all three of the craft had been hauled to the wind, on the larboard tack, and were heading to the eastward, the ship under everything that her jury-rig would permit to be set, and the schooner and brigantine under double-reefed topsails.

We now had an opportunity to learn some few particulars relating to our prize, and the circumstances of her capture by the French privateer, the latter being somewhat remarkable. The ship, it appeared, was named the Manilla, and was homeward-bound with a rich cargo of spices and other rare commodities, including several tons of ivory which she had shipped at the Cape, together with a number of passengers. She had here joined the homeward-bound convoy, and all had gone well with her until the springing up of the gale during which we had fallen in with the convoy. During this gale, however, she had laboured so heavily that she had not only lost her fore and mizzen-topmasts and her main-topgallant-mast, but she had also strained so much that she had made a great deal of water, necessitating frequent and long spells at the pumps. This, and the clearing away of the wreck of her top-hamper, had, as might have been expected, greatly exhausted the crew, the result being that, on the night of her capture, the look-out was not quite so keen as perhaps it should have been. But after all, as the captain remarked, there really did not appear to be any necessity for the maintenance of an especially bright look-out beyond what was required to provide against their falling foul of any of the other ships belonging to the convoy, and although he admitted that he had noticed both the brigantine and the Dolphin, which he had immediately set down as privateers, he did not consider them as enemies, and even if any such suspicion had entered his mind he would not have deemed himself liable to attack within sight and reach of eight men-o'-war. Therefore, when night came on, he allowed his exhausted crew to get what rest they could, keeping only a sufficient number of men on deck to meet any ordinary emergency. He was thus profoundly astonished and chagrined at being awakened about one o'clock in the morning to find his crew overpowered and safely confined below, and his ship in possession of a crew of thirty Frenchmen. How they had contrived to get on board, in the height of so heavy a gale, and with so tremendous a sea running, he had been unable to ascertain, the Frenchman in charge resolutely refusing to explain.

Such was the extraordinary story told by the captain of the Manilla; and that it was absolutely true there could be no doubt, for we had ourselves seen enough to assure us of that. I was greatly disappointed, however, at the captain's inability to explain by what means the Frenchmen had contrived to board the ship in the face of such formidable difficulties; for that was precisely the point that had puzzled me all through, and I resolved to find out, if I could, for such a secret was quite worth the knowing.

Captain Winter had determined to return home with his prizes; and we accordingly continued to steer to the eastward all that night. The next morning at daybreak I turned to the hands and went to work to complete the jury-rig that the Frenchmen had so well begun; and, as the Manilla happened to be well provided with spare spars, we contrived, after two days' hard work, to get her back to something like her former appearance, and to so greatly increase her sailing powers that the brigantine and the schooner could shake the reefs out of their topsails without running away from us. Meanwhile the wind had gradually hauled round until we had got it well over our starboard quarter, and were booming along at a speed of eight knots, with studding-sails set.

The officer who had been put in charge of the Manilla when she fell into the hands of the French privateersmen was a very fine young fellow named Dumaresq; a smart seaman, high-spirited, and as brave as a lion. We early took a fancy to each other, especially after I had offered him his parole, and we soon became exceedingly friendly. He possessed a rich fund of amusing anecdote, together with the art of telling a story well; he was refined in manner, excellently educated, and an accomplished pianist; he was, therefore, quite an acquisition to the cuddy, and now that the ship was no longer in his possession, was heartily welcomed there by Captain Chesney and his passengers. I scarcely ever turned in until after midnight, and by and by young Dumaresq contracted the habit of joining me on the poop and smoking a cigar with me after the passengers had retired for the night; and upon one of these occasions our conversation turned upon the clever capture of the ship by himself and his countrymen. This aroused my curiosity afresh, and after he had been talking for some time about it, I said:

"But how in the world did you manage to get aboard in such terrific weather? That is what puzzles me!"

"No doubt, mon cher," he answered with a laugh. "And how to manage it was just what puzzled us for a time also. We knew that our only chance was to do it during the height of the gale; for if we had waited until the weather moderated, we should have had some of your men-o'-war looking after us and instituting unpleasant inquiries which we should have found it exceedingly difficult to answer. So, after considerable cogitation, poor Captain Lefevre—whose brains I understand you were unkind enough to beat out with a handspike—hit upon a plan which he thought might succeed. We had a few barrels of oil on board, and one of these he broached for the purpose of testing his idea. He had a canvas bag made, capable of containing about four gallons of the oil, and this bag he filled, bent its closed end on to a rope, and threw the affair overboard, paying out the rope, as the brigantine drifted to leeward, until we had about a hundred fathoms of line out, with our bag about that distance to windward.

"We soon found that the oil, exuding through the pores of the canvas, had a distinctly marked effect upon the sea, which ceased to break as soon as it reached the film of oil that had oozed from the bag. Still the effect was by no means as great as he desired, the oil not exuding in sufficient quantity to render the sea safe for a boat, so we hauled our bag inboard again, punctured it well with a sailmaker's needle, and then tried it again. It now proved to be everything that could be desired; the oil oozed out of the bag in sufficient quantity to make a smooth patch of water with a diameter fully equal to the length of our ship; and, after testing the matter through the whole afternoon, we all came to the conclusion that our boats would live in such a patch, and that the experiment was quite worth trying. Wherefore three bags were made, one for each boat, and attached by a becket to a length of line measuring about twenty fathoms. Then, when night had set in, and the darkness had become deep enough to conceal our movements, the bags were filled and dropped overboard, the other end of the line being made fast to the ringbolt in the stern of the boat for the use of which it had been destined. A party of thirty men was told off—ten to each boat, with four additional to take the boat back to the ship in the event of our venture proving successful,—and the brigantine was then sailed to a position about a mile ahead and half-a-mile to windward of the Manilla; that being the ship that we had marked down for our prey. The great difficulty that we now anticipated was that of unhooking the falls with certainty and promptitude the moment that the boats should reach the water; but our captain provided for that by slinging the boats by strops and toggles attached to the ordinary fall-blocks. We were now all ready to put the matter to the test; but at the last moment the captain suddenly decided that it was too early, and that it would be better to defer the attempt until after midnight. This was done; and at the appointed hour the brigantine was once more sailed into a suitable position with regard to the Manilla; the boats were manned, lowered, and we managed to get away from the brigantine without much difficulty. She remained hove-to upon the spot where we had left her, and to make matters as safe as possible for us, capsized overboard the contents of two of the oil-barrels. This smoothened the sea to such an extent that, deeply as we were loaded, and heavily as it was blowing, we did not ship a drop of water. We allowed the boats to drift down to leeward, with their oil-bags towing astern, and with only two oars out, to keep them stern-on to the sea; and so accurately had our distance been calculated that when the Manilla came up abreast of us we only needed to pull a stroke or two to get comfortably under her lee. We boarded her by way of the lee channels, fore, main, and mizzen simultaneously; and that, let me tell you, was the most difficult part of our work, for the ship rolled so heavily that it was with the utmost difficulty we avoided staving or swamping the boats. Each man knew, however, exactly what to do, and did it without the necessity for a word to be spoken; and thus our desperate adventure—for desperate indeed it was, let me tell you— was accomplished without mishap. Ah! there goes eight bells; time for me to turn in, so I will say good-night, mon cher Bowen, and pleasant dreams to you!"



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE MANILLA IS STRUCK BY LIGHTNING.

For a full week nothing occurred of sufficient importance to be worthy of record; our little squadron making good headway before the fair wind that had come to our assistance; neither the brigantine nor the schooner ever being more than three or four miles distant from us; while, in response to daily invitations from Captain Chesney, the skipper of the Indiaman, Captain Winter frequently came on board to dine and spend the evening with the cuddy passengers. But on the ninth day after the recapture of the Manilla, the wind dwindled away to a light air, and then shifted out from the north-east, gradually freshening to a strong breeze, and breaking us off to an east-south-east course, close-hauled on the port tack. We stood thus all through the night; and at daybreak the next morning a large ship was discovered about ten miles to windward, close-hauled on the starboard tack, dodging along under topsails, jib, and spanker, with her courses in the brails. A single glance at her was sufficient to assure us that she was a man-o'-war—a frigate—on her cruising-ground; and that her people were broad awake was speedily made manifest, for we had scarcely made her out when she shifted her helm and bore up for us, letting fall her courses and setting her topgallant-sails and royals as she did so.

The discovery of this stranger was immediately productive of a very considerable amount of anxiety among us all, for she was a powerful vessel, and, if an enemy, likely to prove an exceedingly formidable antagonist. And there was very little doubt among us that she was an enemy; the cut of her square canvas being unmistakably French. Such was also Captain Winter's opinion; for he presently ran down under our stern and hailed me, stating his suspicions, and directing me to bear up and make the best of my way to leeward, while he and the Dolphin would endeavour to cover my retreat and distract the stranger's attention until I had got clear off. His orders were that I was to run to leeward until out of sight of the Frenchman, and then to haul my wind on the starboard tack, when he would do his utmost to rejoin me; but that, in the event of his failing to do so, I was to make the best of my way home without wasting time in an endeavour to find him.

I lost no time in obeying his instructions, instantly wearing the Indiaman round and crowding sail to leeward. The frigate had by this time neared us to within seven miles; and the moment that we in the Indiaman bore up, she set studding-sails on both sides in pursuit, while the brigantine and the Dolphin stretched away to windward to intercept her. There was scarcely a shadow of doubt now in my mind that the stranger was a Frenchman; for although her studding-sails were set with a very commendable promptitude and alacrity, there was wanting in the operation a certain element of smartness, very difficult to describe, yet perfectly discernible to the eye of a seaman, which I have observed to be almost the exclusive attribute of the British man-o'-war. The difference, indeed, is so marked that, as in the present case, it has frequently been possible to decide the nationality of a ship merely by the way in which she is manoeuvred, and long before a sight of her bunting has been obtained. The conviction that the noble craft to windward was an enemy caused the greatest consternation on board the Manilla, particularly among the passengers; while even I, with all my knowledge of Captain Winter's indomitable courage, resource, and skill, could not but feel exceedingly anxious as to the result of his impending contest with so greatly superior a force. True, the memory of our gallant fight with and brilliant capture of the Musette frigate was still fresh in my memory; but I regarded that affair rather as a piece of exceptional good luck than as the result of superior gallantry on our part, and it was quite on the cards that in the present case luck might go over to the side of the enemy. As in the case of the Musette, a fortunate shot might make all the difference between victory and defeat, and it was too much to expect that such good fortune as had then attended us would always be ours. Be it understood, I was in nowise fearful of personal capture. I felt pretty confident that the skipper would be quite able to occupy the attention of the frigate long enough to enable the Manilla to make good her escape; but, that accomplished, would he be able also to save himself? Moved by so keen a feeling of anxiety as I have indicated, it will not be wondered at that I had no sooner got the Indiaman before the wind, with every stitch of canvas spread that I could pack upon her, than I devoted my whole attention to the movements of the three craft which were about to take part in the forthcoming ocean-drama.

There was no outward sign of any hesitancy or doubt whatever in the movements of either vessel. The frigate had borne away into our wake the moment that we had borne away, and was now foaming along after us in gallant style, with studding-sails set on both sides, from the royals down; and was of course coming up with us, hand over hand. There was no question as to her intentions; she was after us, and meant to catch us if she could. On the other hand, the brigantine and schooner, under all plain sail, were stretching away to windward, close-hauled on the larboard tack, with a space of only a hundred fathoms or so dividing them, the brigantine leading. It looked as though the two vessels were about to engage the frigate on the same side, which,—if it was to be a running fight, as seemed probable,—was sound judgment on Captain Winter's part, since it would enable the frigate to use only one broadside, and so virtually reduce her weight of metal by one-half. The two craft continued to stand on this tack until the frigate was nearly abreast of them, when they hove about at the same moment, and simultaneously hoisted their colours. The frigate probably hoisted her colours in reply to this challenge, but, if so, we could not see what they were, her own canvas intervening to hide the flag from us; but she fired her whole broadside a few seconds later, and we saw the shot spouting up the water as they flew toward the two craft which dared to dispute the passage of the sea with her. They appeared to fall short; at all events no perceptible damage was done to either vessel; but a moment later the schooner fired, and the sound of the report told me that it was her long eighteen-pounder that was speaking. The shot struck the water about sixty or seventy fathoms from the frigate, ricochetted, and appeared to pass over her, for presently we saw the water spout up again well to starboard of the vessel. This was enough for the saucy little Dolphin; she was beyond the range of the frigate's guns, but could reach her antagonist with her own Long Tom. She therefore immediately bore up, set her square-sail and studding- sails, and, maintaining her distance, steered a parallel course to that of the frigate, while the brigantine stood on, with the now evident intention of taking up a raking position athwart the frigate's stern.

The Dolphin now opened a rapid fire upon the frigate with her long gun, and every shot showed that the latter was well within range. The frigate replied from time to time with single guns, but Comben was too wary to approach near enough to be hit, and so the fight went on for some time, with no apparent damage to either combatant. Meanwhile, the brigantine had, as I had anticipated, placed herself athwart the frigate's stern, well within range, and now traversed the Frenchman's wake, sailing to-and-fro athwart his stern, pouring in a whole raking broadside every time she crossed it, and receiving but two guns in reply. All this, of course, was exceedingly pretty and interesting as an exhibition of Captain Winter's skill and acumen in fighting an enemy of superior force; but thus far the firing had been comparatively ineffective, a few holes here and there in the Frenchman's sails being the only visible result of the expenditure of a considerable quantity of gunpowder, while he had neared us to within four miles, and was overhauling us so rapidly that another hour, at most, would see us within reach of his guns.

Mason, however—the man who had formerly proved himself to be so excellent a shot with the eighteen-pounder,—was still aboard the schooner, and I had great hopes of him, especially as I knew that he would be by this time upon his mettle and animated by a feeling that it behoved him to speedily do something remarkable if he would save his reputation. Nor was I deceived in my expectations of him; for, very shortly afterwards, a shot from the schooner cut the halliard of the frigate's larboard lower studding-sail, and the sail dropped into the water, retarding the vessel's progress perceptibly until it was got in. It occupied the Frenchmen nearly a quarter of an hour to accomplish this, to splice the halliard, and to reset the sail. Meanwhile the brigantine had not been idle; and even while the Frenchmen were busy about their studding-sail, she recrossed the frigate's stern, firing another broadside at that vessel's spars, with considerable success, it appeared; for although we could not make out exactly what had happened it was evident that something had gone seriously wrong, Captain Chesney—who stood beside me, watching the fight—declaring that he had noticed an appearance strongly suggestive of the fall of the frigate's mizzen-mast. I hardly believed that such could be the case, for, steering as the frigate then was, dead before the wind, had her mizzen- mast fallen, it would have fallen forward, doing so much damage to the spars and sails on the mainmast that I think the effect would have been recognisable even where we were. I considered it far more probable that the mizzen-topmast or topgallant-mast had been shot away. The next shot from the schooner, however, was an exceedingly lucky one; it appeared to strike the frigate's fore-topmast about six feet below the cross-trees, and the next moment the whole of the wreck was hanging by the topsail- sheets from the fore-yard down on to the ship's forecastle, with her jibs and fore-topmast-staysail towing under her bows. This at once caused her to broach-to, and settled her business, so far as any hope of capturing us was concerned; but she had her revenge by pouring the whole of her starboard broadside into the brigantine, the sails and rigging of which were tremendously cut up by the unexpected salute. And as the frigate broached-to we saw that my surmise was not very far wide of the mark, her mizzen-topgallant-mast and mizzen-topsail yard having been shot away, the latter in the slings.

The three vessels now went at it, hammer and tongs, the brigantine being for the moment fairly under the frigate's guns. But Winter soon very cleverly got himself out of this awkward situation, and,—while the Frenchmen were busily engaged in an endeavour to clear away the wreck and get their ship once more before the wind,—laid himself athwart their bows and, with his topsail aback, poured broadside after broadside into the helpless craft; while the Dolphin, gliding hither and thither, beyond the reach of the frigate's guns, sent home an eighteen- pound shot every two or three minutes, every one of which appeared to tell somewhere or other on the Frenchman's hull. We now ran away from them, fast, however, and by noon had lost sight of them altogether. But, when last seen, they were still hammering away at each other, the brigantine and schooner appearing to be getting rather the best of it.

Once fairly out of sight of the combatants, we took in our studding- sails, and hauled our wind to the northward, in obedience to Captain Winter's orders; and although I had a sharp look-out for the Dolphin and her consort maintained throughout the whole of the next day, I was not greatly surprised at their not heaving in sight. I had not much misgiving as to the ultimate result of the fight; but I believed that the brigantine at least would not get off without a rather severe mauling, in which case the schooner would naturally stand by her until she could be again put into decent workable trim.

The fourth day after the fight dawned without bringing us a sight of our consorts, and I then began to feel rather uneasy; fearing that they had probably missed us, somehow, and that we should have to make our way home as best we could, unprotected; and to enter the English Channel just then, unprotected, meant almost certain capture. For although the Indiaman was certainly armed, after a fashion, most of her guns were "quakers", while the others—ten in all—were only six-pounders; and it would need the whole of her crew to work her only, under her awkward jury-rig, with no one to spare for fighting. However, it was useless to meet trouble half-way; so I determined to plod steadily onward and homeward, hoping for the best. Hitherto, ever since the day of our meeting with the Frenchman, we had experienced moderate but steady breezes from the northward and eastward, but on the day of which I am now writing there were indications of an impending change. The wind gradually died down to a light, fitful air that came in flaws, first from one quarter of the compass and then from another, lasting but a few minutes, with lengthening intervals of calm between them, while huge piles of black, thunderous-looking cloud gradually heaped up along the northern horizon until they had overspread the whole sky. The barometer, too, exhibited a tendency to fall; but the decline was so slight that I was of opinion it meant no more than perhaps a sharp thunder-squall, particularly as there was no swell making; moreover there was a close, thundery feeling in the stagnating air, which increased as the day grew older. It was not, however, until about an hour after sunset, and just as we were sitting down to dinner in the cuddy, that the outbreak commenced; which it did with a sudden, blinding flash of lightning that darted out of the welkin almost immediately overhead, instantly followed by a deafening crash of thunder that caused the Indiaman to tremble to her keel; the sensation being not unlike what one would expect to feel if the craft were being swept rapidly along over a sandy bottom which she just touched.

This first flash was soon followed by another, not quite so near at hand, then by another, and another, and another, until the lightning was playing all about us in such rapidly succeeding flashes that the whole atmosphere was luminous with a continuous quivering of ghastly blue- green light, while the heavens resounded and the ship trembled with the unbroken crash and roll of the thunder. The spectacle was magnificent, but it was also rather trying to the nerves; the lightning being so dazzlingly vivid that it was positively blinding, while I had never heard such awful thunder before, even in the West Indies. Several of the lady passengers, indeed, were so unnerved by the storm that they retreated from the table and shut themselves into their cabins. Even young Dumaresq, who had hitherto appeared to be irrepressible, was subdued by the awful violence of the turmoil that raged around us. He was admitting something to this effect to me when he was cut short by a blaze of lightning that seemed to envelop the whole ship in a sheet of flame; there was a rending shock, violent enough to suggest that the Indiaman had come into violent collision with another vessel—although we were fully aware that such a thing could not be, the weather at the moment being stark calm,—the hot air seemed to suddenly become surcharged with a strong sulphurous smell; and then came a peal of thunder of so terrific and soul-subduing a character that it might have been the crash of a shattered world. For a brief space we were all so thoroughly overpowered, so awed and overwhelmed by this tremendous manifestation of the Creator's power that we remained speechless and motionless on our seats; then, as the echo of the thunder rumbled away into the distance, and our hearing gradually recovered from the shock of that last dreadful detonation, we became aware of loud shrieks of pain out on deck, a brilliant light, a confused rush and scurry of feet, and shouts of:

"Fire! fire! The ship's been struck, and is all ablaze!"

At the cry, Captain Chesney, Dumaresq, and I sprang to our feet and dashed out on deck. Merciful Heaven! what an appalling scene met our gaze! The foremast had been struck, and was cloven in twain from the jury topgallant-mast-head to the deck; it had also been set on fire, and the blazing mass of timber, cordage, and canvas had fallen back upon the mainmast, setting the sails and rigging of that mast also on fire; the flames blazing fiercely as they writhed and coiled about the spars and darted hither and thither, like fiery serpents, through the mazes of the tarred and highly inflammable rigging. But that was by no means the worst of it. The lightning, upon reaching the deck, appeared to have darted hither and thither in the most extraordinary way, for we presently discovered that a considerable quantity of metal-work, such as iron bands, belaying-pins, bolts, the chain topsail-sheets, and other such matters had been either wholly or partially fused by the terrific heat of the electric discharge; while several silent, prostrate figures on the deck, scorched black, and with their clothing burnt from their bodies, told that death had been busy in that awful instant when the bolt had struck the ship. But there was worse even than that; for there were other figures crouched and huddled upon the deck, moaning piteously with pain; and one man stood erect, with his hands clasped over his eyes, and his head thrown back, shrieking to be taken below, for he had been struck blind!

It was a dreadful moment; a moment of frightful peril, and of horror indescribable; a moment when a man might well be excused if he found himself temporarily overmastered by the accumulated terrors of his surroundings; but Chesney, the captain of the Indiaman, proved equal to the occasion. For a single instant he stood aghast at the awful spectacle that met his horrified gaze; then he pulled himself together and, instinctively assuming the command—as, under the circumstances, he was perfectly justified in doing,—he made his voice ring from end to end of the ship as he ordered all hands to be called. The order, however, was scarcely necessary, for by this time the watch below— startled by the shock of the lightning-stroke, the shrieks of the injured, and that indefinable conviction of something being wrong that occasionally seizes people upon the occurrence of some dire catastrophe—were tumbling up through the fore-scuttle with much of the hurry and confusion of panic, which was greatly increased when they beheld the masts, sails, and rigging all ablaze. By voice and example, however, we presently contrived to steady them and get them under control; and then, while one gang was told off to convey the injured men below—Dumaresq meanwhile hurrying away to summon the doctor, who was busily engaged in the cabin, endeavouring to soothe some of the lady passengers, who were in hysterics,—the rest of the crew were set to work to rig the pumps, muster the buckets, and pass along the hose. In a few minutes all was ready, the pumps were started, and the chief mate, with a line to which the end of the hose was bent, climbed up into the main-top, from which he began to play upon the fire. But by this time the flames had acquired such a firm hold upon the spars, canvas, and heavily tarred rigging that the jet of water from the hose proved quite incapable of producing any visible effect whatever upon them; and the mate himself soon became so hemmed in by the fire that he was in the very act of retreating to the deck when the flood-gates of heaven were opened, and the rain suddenly pelted down in such overwhelming torrents that in less than five minutes the conflagration aloft was completely extinguished; but not until the sails had been burnt to tinder, the spars badly charred, and most of the standing and running rigging destroyed.

With the outburst of rain that had rendered us such excellent service the violence of the storm sensibly abated, perhaps because it had nearly spent itself; at all events the lightning discharges now succeeded each other at steadily lengthening intervals as the storm passed away to the southward, the thunder died down to a distant booming and rumbling, and finally ceased altogether in about an hour and a half from the commencement of the outbreak, while the lightning became a harmless, fitful quivering of vari-coloured light along the southern horizon.

But we were now in a most awkward predicament; a predicament that might easily become disastrous should it come on to blow, as was by no means impossible. For not only had three men been killed outright and eight more or less seriously injured by that terrible lightning-stroke, but our sails were gone, our foremast destroyed, and our rigging so badly injured that our main and mizzen-masts stood practically unsupported; while we had too much reason to fear that the masts and spars themselves were so seriously weakened by the play of the flames upon them as to have become of little or no use to us. And, to crown all, it was now so pitch-dark that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain the full extent of our disaster until daylight. Our situation, however, was too critical to admit of our waiting until then; it was of vital importance that immediate steps should be taken to secure what had been left to us; and, with this object, the carpenter and boatswain procured lanterns with which they proceeded aloft to make a critical examination into the condition of the spars and rigging. They were thus engaged when the doctor, who had been down in the forecastle, attending to the hurts of the wounded men, appeared on deck, and, catching sight of Captain Chesney and myself standing together under the break of the poop, beckoned us to follow him into his cabin.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE DESTRUCTION OF THE MANILLA.

"I will only detain you a moment, gentlemen," said the medico, as he closed the cabin door behind us; "but I wanted to speak to you strictly in private; since, if overheard, what I have to say might possibly produce a panic. The fact is that I am afraid we are not yet aware of the full extent of the disaster that has happened to us. I have been down in the forecastle attending to the wounded men; and I had no sooner entered the place than I noticed a faint smell as of burning; but I attached no importance to it at the moment, believing that it arose from the fire on deck. But, instead of passing away, as it ought to have done, with the extinguishment of the fire, it has persistently continued; and I am almost inclined to believe that it is now, if anything, rather stronger than it was when I went below. Do you think it possible that the ship's cargo is on fire?"

"By Jove!" exclaimed the skipper; "I never thought of that. It shall be looked to at once. I am much obliged to you, Doctor, for mentioning the matter; and should have been even more so if you had communicated with me rather earlier. Come along, Bowen; we must investigate without further delay."

The doctor hurriedly entered into an explanation to the effect that he could not leave his patients until they had been properly attended to, and that there was no one by whom he could send a message; but we could just then ill spare the time to listen to him; so, with a hasty acceptance of his excuses, the skipper led the way out on deck, I following.

We made our way straight to the forecastle, into which we forthwith descended; and, sure enough, we were no sooner fairly below the coamings of the hatchway than we became aware of a distinct smell of fire, to which also one of the less seriously injured of the wounded men immediately directed our attention. We sniffed about, hither and thither, and soon found that the smell was stronger as we stooped nearer to the deck, or approached the bulkhead dividing the fore-hold from the forecastle. It was now almost certain that there was a smouldering of something somewhere below; and without more ado the skipper flung off his coat, lifted the hatch of the forepeak, and descended. He remained below about five minutes; and when he reappeared he composedly closed the hatch, resumed his coat, and beckoned me to follow him on deck. The crew were now busily engaged, under the direction of the chief and second mates, in clearing away the wreck of the foremast; we therefore walked aft until we were out of hearing of everybody; when the captain paused, and, turning to me, said:

"I am very much afraid that the ship is on fire, but I cannot be sure. The smell is distinctly stronger in the forepeak than it is in the forecastle, yet not strong enough to lead to the belief that it is anything serious. Still, it must be attended to at once. So I shall knock off the men, call them aft, and speak to them before doing anything, or we shall have a panic among them. Then I shall have the fore-hatch opened, and proceed to make a proper examination of the cargo. Mr Priest," he continued, calling to the chief mate, "knock the men off for a minute or two, and send them aft, if you please."

The mate, marvelling, no doubt, at this untimely interruption of an operation of great importance, did as he was bid, and in a few minutes all hands, except the injured men, were mustered in the waist, waiting to hear what the skipper had to say to them. As soon as silence had been secured, Captain Chesney advanced and said:

"My lads, I have sent for you to come aft in order that I may communicate to you a matter that may prove of very considerable consequence to us all, and to invite your best assistance and co- operation in an investigation that I am about to cause to be made. The matter in question may or may not prove to be of an alarming character; but, in case of its turning out to be the latter, I want to impress upon you all the paramount importance of order, method, and the most implicit obedience, without which nothing of real importance can ever be achieved. There is at critical moments an impulse in every man to think and act independently, under the conviction that no one is so capable as himself of dealing efficiently and effectually with the matter in hand, and when this impulse prevails confusion and disorder follow, and all useful effort is frustrated. Where a number of men are working jointly together there must be a leader—one who will think for and direct the efforts of the rest, and it is essential to success that the orders of that leader should be obeyed. Now, in the present case, my lads, I will do all the thinking and planning and arranging, and if you will do the work quietly, methodically, and steadily there is no reason why all should not be well.

"I have said all this with a double purpose: first, to prepare you for rather serious news; and, second, to quiet and steady you for the work which lies before us. And, first, as to the news. I fear that the lightning has done us rather more damage than we have hitherto had reason to suppose. In a word, men, I fear that it has set the cargo on fire—steady, lads, steady; I only say I fear that such is the case; I am by no means certain of it. But it is necessary that the matter should be investigated forthwith; I am, therefore, about to have the fore-hatch lifted and the cargo examined. Mr Priest, you, with your watch, will take off the hatches and rouse the cargo up on deck; and you, Mr Simcoe, with the starboard watch, will muster the buckets again, rig the pumps, and lead along the hose ready to play upon the fire, should such be discovered. Away, all of you, to your duty."

It may possibly be thought by the reader that the above was rather a long speech for a man to make at a time when he believed the ship to be on fire under his feet, and when moments were consequently precious; but, after all, the delay amounted to only some three minutes, and those three minutes were well spent, for the skipper's speech had the effect of steadying the men, subduing any tendency to panic among them, and rendering them amenable to that strict discipline which is of such inestimable value and importance in the presence of great emergencies. They went away to their work in as quiet and orderly a manner as though they had been dismissed below.

The wedges were quickly knocked out, the battens removed, the tarpaulin stripped off, the hatches lifted, and the upper tier of cargo disclosed, with the result that almost immediately a thin wreath of pale-brown smoke began to stream up from between the bales and cases.

"No mistake about that, sir," observed the chief mate to the skipper, pointing to the curling smoke wreaths; "there's fire somewhere down there. Now, lads, let's get down to it, and make short work of it. You, Jim, and Simpson, get to work, and break out that bale and as much else as you can get at, and rouse it out on deck. Chips! ... Where's the carpenter?"

"Here I are, Mr Priest," answered the carpenter, emerging from the forecastle hatchway after having stowed away his mawl again in the most methodical manner.

"That's right," observed the mate. "Now, Chips, our foremast having gone, we want a derrick or a pair of sheers over this hatchway to help us in breaking out the cargo. Find a spar, or something that will serve our purpose, and let the bo'sun rig up what we want. Well done, men; now, out with that crate; jump down into that hole, one or two of you, and lend the others a hand."

The work went forward rapidly and steadily, and in a very short time there was a goodly display of cargo on the deck about the fore-hatch. The smoke, however, which at first had streamed up in a mere thread-like wreath, was now pouring out of the hatch in a cloud so dense that the men working at the cargo were obliged to be relieved every three or four minutes to avoid suffocation. The business was beginning to assume a very serious aspect. And now, too, the storm having passed off, the passengers had ventured out on deck once more, and, observing the lights and the bustle forward, had gradually approached the fore end of the ship to see what was going on. The skipper, however, at once ordered them aft again, and, following them into the cuddy, explained just how matters stood, remaining with them until their excitement had subsided and he had got them pretty well in hand.

Hitherto no water had been used, Captain Chesney being anxious to get as much of the cargo as possible—which was mostly of a valuable character—out on deck uninjured; but the rapidly increasing density and volume of the smoke showed that the question of damaging the cargo had now become a secondary one. The safety of the ship herself was imperilled, and the head pump was accordingly manned, the hose coupled up, and the second mate pointed it down the hatchway, while the third mate superintended the operations of a party of men who had been set to draw water and pass along a chain of buckets by hand. But when water had been pouring continuously down the hatchway for fully a quarter of an hour, and the smoke continued to stream up from below in ever- increasing volume, unmingled with any indication of steam, it became apparent that the seat of the fire was at some distance, for the water had evidently not yet reached the flames. Nevertheless, the men worked steadily on; but whereas at the commencement of their labours they had sung out their "Yo-ho's" and "Heave-ho's", and other encouraging exclamations, after the manner of sailors engaged in arduous labour, they now toiled on in grim silence.

At length a feathery jet of white vapour began to mingle with the thick column of smoke surging up the hatchway, and was immediately greeted with a shout of triumph by the mate, followed by a few crisp ejaculations of encouragement to the men, who apparently accepted the same in good faith. Nevertheless, I could see by Priest's face that, although he might have deceived the men, he had not deceived himself, and that he knew, as well as I did, that the appearance of steam was an indication, not that the water had reached the fire, but that the fire had spread sufficiently to reach the water, a very different and much more serious matter.

Suddenly the smoke thickened into a dense black cloud of a pungent, waxy odour, and immediately afterwards bright tongues of flame came darting up between the bales and packages upon which the men in the hold were working. There was a loud, hissing sound, as the water that was being poured down the hatchway became converted into steam, and then, with a quick, unexpected roar of fire, the flames shot up in such fierce volume that the men were driven precipitately up on deck.

"Ah!" ejaculated the mate in an aside to me; "I know what that is; and it's what I've been fearing. There's a lot of shellac and gums of different sorts down there, and the fire's got at 'em. They'll burn like oil, or worse, and I'm afraid we shall have our work cut out now to get the fire under."

I fully agreed with him, or rather I began to entertain a suspicion that the ship was doomed, for the heat, even while the mate had been speaking, had grown intense. The whole contents of the hatchway had burst into flame, and the ruddy tongues of fire were now darting through the hatchway, as through a chimney, to a height of fully twenty feet above the deck. The coamings were on fire, the pitch was beginning to bubble and boil out of the seams of the deck planking, and the planks themselves were already uncomfortably hot to stand upon. Unless the fire could somehow be checked it seemed to me that it would soon be time to think about getting out the boats.

The skipper meanwhile had come forward again, and, although looking very anxious, was, I was glad to see, perfectly self-possessed.

"We shall have to clap the hatches on again, Mr Priest, and endeavour to smother the fire," said he. "Let it be done at once."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered Priest. "Now then, lads, on with the hatches some of you. Shall the carpenter cut holes in the deck, sir, for the water to pass through?"

"Yes," answered the skipper. "We must keep the hose going, certainly."

But when the men came to attempt the replacing of the hatches, it was found that the fire was already too much for them. The heat was so fierce, and the flames poured forth so continuously, that they could not get near enough to the hatchway to achieve their object. Then the skipper and I made the attempt, with no better success, getting severely scorched for our pains.

"Perhaps," said I, "it might be possible to do something with a wetted sail—"

"An excellent suggestion, for which I am much obliged to you, Mr Bowen!" exclaimed the skipper, interrupting me. "It shall be tried at once."

And he forthwith gave the necessary orders.

A main-topgallant-sail was got up out of the sail-room and dropped overboard, made fast by a line to one of the clews. Then, as soon as it was thoroughly saturated, it was dragged inboard, stretched athwart the deck, and dragged over the flaming hatchway, several men holding it in position while the carpenter rapidly spiked the head and foot of it to the deck. Meanwhile, the hose was played incessantly upon it, while bucket after bucket of water was emptied into it with frantic energy until the hollow of it over the hatchway was full of water. By keeping a continuous stream of water pouring into this hollow we seemed to check the fire for a time, although it was difficult work, on account of the great clouds of scalding steam that soon began to rise from the water. But in less than a quarter of an hour the scorched canvas gave way. The water that it had contained plumped down through the rent on to the blazing cargo, and was immediately converted into a vast volume of steam that momentarily checked the fire, and then the flames leaped up again far more fiercely than ever.

"It is no good," murmured the skipper, turning to me; "the ship is doomed! The fire is rapidly spreading in spite of all that we can do. There is nothing for it, therefore, but to take to the boats, and the sooner that they are in the water the better."

This was quite my own opinion, and I said so. The chief mate was accordingly called aside and given his instructions, and while the second mate, with his gang, continued to fight the fire, Mr Priest, with a few picked men, went to work to provision and water the several boats preparatory to getting them into the water. The long-boat was an exception to this arrangement. She stood on chocks upon the top of the main hatch, and, under ordinary circumstances, was hoisted out by means of yard tackles on the fore and main-yard-arms. Now, however, that the foremast was destroyed, it was no longer possible to handle her in this way, and the only plan that suggested itself was to launch her bodily off the deck, afterwards bailing out such water as she would probably ship during the operation. This was accordingly done very successfully, and in about two hours' time all the boats were alongside, with oars, rowlocks, a baler each, masts, sails, and other gear complete, and as much provisions and water as there was room for after allowing space for the necessary complement of passengers and crew. The Indiaman was well provided with boats, so there was room for everybody without overcrowding.

While these preparations had been going on, Captain Chesney had been in the cuddy, stating the condition of affairs to the passengers, and directing them to prepare for their forthcoming boat-voyage by dressing in their warmest clothing and providing themselves with such extra wraps as would be useful at night or during severe weather. He also permitted them to each take a small package of valuables with them, explaining at the same time that they must be prepared to throw these overboard should the boats prove to be dangerously deep in the water, or should bad weather come on.

At length, all being ready, the process of embarkation in the boats began, both gangways being used for this purpose. First of all, the crew of the long-boat and the first cutter descended into their respective boats, and stood by to receive the other occupants. The long-boat was a particularly fine and roomy craft, with accommodation enough to take all the women and children in her, and these were now accordingly ushered down the accommodation ladder, each being called by name by the skipper, who stood at the gangway with a list in his hand, which he ticked off by the light of the flames as each person left the ship. This was at the starboard gangway. Meanwhile Simcoe, the second mate, at the port gangway, was receiving the men who had been injured by the lightning that had set the ship on fire. All these were taken into the second cutter, and her full complement was made up with bachelor passengers. As soon as these two boats had received their full number they were ordered to pull away from the ship far enough to allow two other boats to come to the gangway, which in like manner quickly received their human freight, and hauled off. And so the work went on until everybody but the skipper and myself had left the ship, the gig, with eight hands, being at the gangway to receive us. The whole of the fore part of the ship, to within a few feet of the main hatchway, was by this time a roaring and blazing fiery furnace, the flames of which reached as high as the main-topmast-head. Part of the fore deck had fallen in; the heel of the bowsprit had been consumed, causing the spar, with all attached, to plunge into the water under the bows, and the deck planking, as far aft as the gangway, was almost unendurably hot to stand upon, while small tongues of flame were constantly springing into existence here and there about us in the most extraordinary way as the timber ignited with the intense heat. There was consequently not a moment to lose, and, as Captain Chesney very rightly insisted upon being the last to leave the ship, I wasted no time in making my way down into the gig, which I was to command, and into which I had already passed my few traps and my sextant. The skipper, meanwhile, had gone into the cuddy to take a final look round. He was absent nearly five minutes, and I was growing so anxious about him that I was at the point of leaving the boat again to hunt him up, when he appeared at the head of the gangway. The poor fellow seemed to be dreadfully cut up as he allowed his glances to wander fore and aft the noble ship, now ablaze almost to the spot upon which he stood, and with thick jets of black smoke and little tongues of flame forcing their way through the seams at a hundred different points. He had commanded the vessel ever since she left the stocks; he had conducted her safely to-and-fro over thousands of miles of ocean, through fair weather and foul; he had studied her until he had come to know every quality that she possessed, good or bad; had taken pride in the first, and found ample excuses for the last; he had grown to love her, almost as a man loves his wife or child, and now the moment had come when he must abandon her to the devouring flames that had already seared and destroyed her beauty, and were fast reducing her to a charred, shapeless shell of blazing timber. Involuntarily, as it seemed to me, he doffed his cap, as a man might do in the presence of the dying, standing there in the gangway, with his figure in bold relief against the glowing furnace of flame and the dense volumes of heavy, wreathing, fire-illumined smoke, while his eyes seemed to wander hither and thither about the burning ship as though unable to drag himself away; but at length the fire burst through the deck close to where he stood. Fiery flakes were falling thickly about him; the mainmast was tottering ominously; it was obviously full time to be gone. Such hints were not to be ignored, and replacing his cap upon his head with one hand as he dashed the other across his eyes, he slowly descended the ladder and gave the word to shove off. The men, who had latterly been growing very anxious and fidgety, lost no time in obeying the order. But we were none too soon, for the gig had barely left the gangway when the mainmast fell over the side with a loud crash and a fierce up- darting of millions of fiery sparks, followed by a great spout of flame that seemed to indicate that the mast, in falling, had torn up a considerable portion of the deck. The poor skipper, who had sunk down beside me in the stern-sheets of the boat, shuddered violently and heaved a heavy, gasping sigh as the mainmast struck the water close under the boat's stern, raising a splash that nearly drenched us to the skin.

"Another half-minute and I should have been too late," he murmured, with a ghastly smile. "Well," he continued, "so far as the poor old ship is concerned, my duty is done. But there is still a heavy responsibility resting upon me, inasmuch as that the lives of all these people depend almost exclusively upon my judgment and foresight. Put me aboard the long-boat, please."



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE GIG IS CAUGHT IN A GALE.

Did as the skipper had requested, receiving young Dumaresq into the gig in his place, and then the several boats lay upon their oars, awaiting further orders.

Captain Chesney seemed to be very reluctant, even now, to quit the neighbourhood of the burning ship; and therein I considered that he was displaying sound judgment, for the weather was still stark calm, and whatever movement we might make would have to be executed with the oars, which would soon result in greatly fatiguing the men without any commensurate advantage. Moreover the Indiaman was now a blazing beacon, the light from which would be distinctly visible at a distance of at least thirty or forty miles in every direction, and would be sure to attract attention should any craft be in the neighbourhood, probably leading to her steering in our direction as soon as a breeze should spring up; in which case we might all hope to be picked up.

That this was in his mind was evident, for he presently summoned all the boats about him, and pointed out to their occupants the possibilities of rescue by remaining in the neighbourhood of the burning ship, and he then went on to say:

"Our reckoning at noon showed that we were then—as we have since remained—seven hundred and twenty miles south-west by south from the island of Corvo, one of the Azores, which is the nearest land. There is a small town called Rosario upon this island, where, if we can but reach it, I have no doubt we can obtain succour; and I therefore intend to steer for Corvo, not only for the reason that I have mentioned, but also because most homeward-bound ships endeavour to make the Azores, and we therefore stand a very good chance of being picked up at any moment. Now, gentlemen, those of you who are in charge of boats will be pleased to remember that the course is north-east by north, and the distance seven hundred and twenty miles. You will also be pleased to remember that the boats are to keep company as long as the weather will permit, unless otherwise ordered by me. And now, as I do not intend to make a start until to-morrow morning, you had better arrange the watches in each boat, and secure all the rest that you can."

This very sensible recommendation was at once adopted all round; but, as far as the gig was concerned, sleep appeared to be out of the question, the strong glare of light from the burning ship—although the boats had hauled off to a distance of fully half a mile from her—and, still more, the novelty and excitement of our situation, seeming to have completely banished slumber from our eyelids.

At length, toward two o'clock in the morning—by which time the Indiaman had become the mere shell of a ship, a blazing furnace from stem to stern,—a light breeze sprang up from the north-north-east, almost dead in our teeth for the voyage to the Azores; and the order was passed along for the boats to set their sails and make short reaches, for the purpose of maintaining their position near the ship. This was done, and then the only bad quality that the boats appeared to possess rapidly declared itself. They were, one and all, staunch, well-built, and finely-modelled boats, excellently adapted for their work in all respects save one, which, in the present case, was of very great importance: their keels were so shallow that they had no grip of the water; and the result of this was that, as we quickly discovered, they would not turn to windward. The gig, which had been built with an especial eye to speed, was the least serious offender in this respect; indeed, so long as the water remained smooth, we managed to hold our own with her, and a trifle to spare; the long-boat, probably from her size and superior depth of body, came next; but the others sagged away to leeward from the first, despite the utmost efforts of those in charge; and, consequently, in order to remain in company, we were obliged to bear up and run down to them. Within an hour from the moment of making sail we were a mile to leeward of the ship; and with the steady freshening of the breeze we continued to increase our distance from her.

The day at length broke, disclosing a sea ruffled to a hue of purest sapphire, flecked with little ridges of snowy foam by the whipping of the now fresh breeze, under a sky of blue, dappled with small, wool-like white clouds that came sailing up, squadron after squadron, out of the north-east, at a speed that told of a fiery breeze in the higher reaches of the atmosphere; and a sharp look-out for the gleaming canvas of a passing ship was at once instituted, but without result. About half an hour later the skipper, who was but a short distance to leeward of us, waved us to close; and when we had done so the long-boat and the gig ran down in company to the other boats in succession, Captain Chesney ordering each, as we passed, to follow him, until we finally all found ourselves near the jolly-boat, which was the most leewardly boat of all. The little flotilla then closed round the long-boat, which had been hove-to, and the skipper, standing up in the stern-sheets, addressed us:

"Gentlemen," said he, "it is, as you may well imagine, a great disappointment to me to discover that the boats exhibit such very poor weatherly qualities, since it renders it plain that, unless something can be done to improve them in that respect, it will be useless for us to think of carrying out my original plan of making for the Azores in the teeth of the present foul wind. A plan has occurred to me that may possibly have the effect of helping the boats to go to windward, and I should like you all to try it. If it answers, well and good; if it does not, I am afraid there will be nothing for it but for us to try for the Canaries, which are considerably further away from us than the Azores, but which also lie much further to the southward, and consequently afford us a better chance, with the wind as it now is.

"And now as to my plan for helping the boats to turn to windward. They are all fitted with bottom-boards; and I am of opinion that, if the triangular bottom-board in the stern-sheets is suspended over the lee side amidships by means of short lengths of line bent on to two of the corners, the arrangement will serve as a lee-board, and the boats will go to windward, although their speed may be slightly decreased. At all events I should like to give the plan a trial; so get your bottom-boards rigged at once, gentlemen, if you please, somewhat after the fashion of this affair that I have arranged."

So saying, the skipper exhibited the long-boat's board, fitted to serve as a lee-board, and forthwith dropped it over the side, secured by a couple of stout lanyards, the other ends of which were made fast to the boat's thwarts. It appeared to require but little arranging, the leeway of the boat pressing it close to her side, and retaining it there in its proper position. The other boats were not long in following the skipper's example. Five minutes sufficed to get the lee-boards into action, and then the squadron hauled its wind, with the object of beating back to the neighbourhood of the ship. The value of Captain Chesney's idea soon became apparent, for in less than an hour we had reached far enough to windward to enable us to fetch the ship on the next tack. But we did not go about; for just at that time the wreck, burnt to the water's edge, suddenly disappeared, leaving no trace of her late presence but a dense cloud of mingled steam and smoke, that gradually swept away to leeward astern of us.

The boats were on the starboard tack, and were kept so throughout the day, that being the leg upon which we could do best with the wind as it then was; and at noon an observation of the sun was secured which, the skipper having his chronometer and charts with him, showed that we were eleven miles nearer to our destination than we had been when we left the ship. This was no great slice out of a distance of more than seven hundred miles, but neither was it by any means discouraging, taking into consideration the distance that we had lost during the night. As for the passengers, particularly the women and children, they were in wonderfully good spirits, seeming to regard the boat-voyage rather as a pleasure-trip than the serious matter that it really was. The breeze continuing to freshen, it at length became necessary for the long-boat and ourselves to haul down a reef, in order that we might not outsail and run away from the remainder of the flotilla. But, despite everybody's most strenuous efforts, the boats manifested a decided disposition to become widely scattered, and it was only by the faster sailers heaving-to occasionally that the sluggards were enabled to keep in company. This proved so serious an obstacle to progress that just before sunset the long-boat again displayed the signal to close, and when we had done so the skipper informed us that, in view of the great difference in the sailing powers of the several boats, he withdrew his prohibition as to parting company, and that from that moment each boat would be at liberty to do the best that she could for herself. And it appeared to me that this was a most sensible decision to arrive at, since, taking into account the long distance to be traversed, the determination to regulate the progress of the entire squadron by that of the slowest boat must necessarily entail a very serious lengthening of the period of exposure and privation for those in the faster boats. Sail was accordingly made by the long-boat and ourselves; and when darkness closed down upon the scene, the gig was leading by about half a mile, the long-boat coming next, and the remainder stringing out astern, at distances varying from three-quarters of a mile to twice as far.

It must not be supposed that, on this first day in the boats, the novelty of our situation caused us to feel indifferent to the possibility of a sail heaving in sight; on the contrary, one man in each boat was told off for the especial purpose of keeping a look-out; and I, for one, felt it to be a serious misfortune that up to nightfall nothing had been sighted; for, to tell the whole truth, I regarded the possibility of our reaching either Corvo or the Canaries as mighty problematical, trusting for our eventual rescue very much more to the chance of our falling in with a ship and being picked up.

About eight bells of the second dog-watch the wind, which had been gradually freshening all day, freshened still more, piping up occasionally in so squally a fashion that I deemed it prudent to again haul down a reef; and by midnight it had become necessary to take in a second reef, the sky having clouded over, with a thick and rather dirty look to windward, while the wind came along in such heavy puffs that, staunch boat as was the gig, we had our work cut out at times to keep her lee gunwale above water. Moreover, a short, steep, choppy sea had been raised that proved very trying to us, the boat driving her sharp stem viciously into it, and throwing frequent heavy showers of spray over herself, that not only drenched us all to the skin, but also necessitated the continuous use of the baler. Fortunately, we were not very greatly crowded; so that, despite the weight of our party and that of our provisions and water, the boat was fairly buoyant, and we shipped nothing heavier than spray; but my heart ached as I thought of the poor women and children cooped up in the long-boat, and pictured to myself their too probable piteous condition of cold and wet and misery.

As the night wore on, the weather grew steadily worse; and morning at length dawned upon us, hove-to under close-reefed canvas, with a strong gale blowing, and a high, steep, and dangerous sea running. And there was every prospect that there was worse to come, for the sun rose as a pale, wan, shapeless blot of sickly light, faintly showing through a veil of dim, grey, watery vapour, streaked with light-coloured patches of tattered scud, that swept athwart the louring sky at a furious rate, while the sea had that greenish, turbid appearance that is often noticeable as a precursor of bad weather.

None of the other boats were anywhere near us, so far as could be made out; but one of the men was still standing on a thwart, steadying himself by the mast, looking for them, when he suddenly made our hearts leap and our pulses quicken by flinging out his right arm and pointing vehemently, as he yelled:

"Sail ho! a couple of points on the lee bowl. A ship, sir, steerin' large, under to'gallant-sails!"

"Let me get a look at her," answered I, as I clawed my way forward, noticing with consternation as I did so, that, despite the continuous baling that had been kept up, the water was fully three inches deep in the bottom of the boat, and that the lower tier of our provisions was, in consequence, most probably spoiled.

The man, having first carefully pointed out to me the exact direction in which I was to look for the stranger, climbed down off the thwart and so made room for me to take his place, which I immediately did. Yes; there she was, precisely as the man had said, a full-rigged ship, scudding under topgallant-sails. She was fully seven—maybe nearer eight—miles away, and although rather on our lee bow at the moment when first sighted—in consequence of the gig having just then come to—was in reality still a trifle to windward of us. Of course it was utterly useless to hope that we could, by any means at our disposal, attract her attention at that distance; but as I looked almost despairingly at her, and noticed that she did not appear to be travelling very fast, it occurred to me that there was just a ghost of a chance that, by bearing up and running away to leeward, upon a course converging obliquely upon her own, we might be able to intercept her; or, if not that, we might at least be able to approach her nearly enough to make ourselves seen. It was worth attempting, I thought, for even though, in the event of failure, we should find ourselves in the end many miles more distant from Corvo than we then were, I attached but little importance to that; my conviction now being stronger than ever that our only hope of deliverance lay in being picked up, rather than in our being able to reach the Azores, or any other land. Noting carefully, therefore, the bearings of the stranger, and especially the fact that she appeared to be running dead to leeward, with squared yards, I made my way aft again, took the tiller, watched for a favourable opportunity, and succeeded in getting the gig before the wind without shipping very much water. Once fairly before the wind, the boat was able to bear a considerably greater spread of canvas than while hove-to; indeed an increase of sail immediately became an imperative necessity in order to avoid being caught and overrun, or pooped, by the sea; moreover we had to catch that ship, if we could. We therefore shook out a couple of reefs, and then went to breakfast; treating ourselves to as good a meal as the circumstances would permit.

The gig being double-ended, and modelled somewhat after the fashion of a whale-boat, scudded well and no longer shipped any water; our condition, therefore, was greatly improved, and running before the gale, as we now were, the strength of the wind was not so severely felt, nor did the chill of the blast penetrate our saturated clothing so cruelly as while we were hove-to. Our clothes gradually dried upon us, we baled out the boat, and in the course of an hour or so began to experience something approaching a return to comfort. Meanwhile, at frequent intervals, the bearing and distance of the strange sail was ascertained, and our spirits rose as, with every observation, the chances of our ultimately succeeding in intercepting her grew more promising. Another result of these observations, however, was the unwelcome discovery that the stranger was travelling at a considerably faster pace than we had at first credited her with; and that only the nicest and most accurate judgment with regard to our own course would enable us to close with her.

That in itself, however, was not sufficient to occasion us any very grave anxiety, for we had the whole day before us; and what we had most greatly to fear was a further increase in the strength of the wind. Unhappily there was only too much reason to dread that this might happen, if, indeed, it was not in process of happening already; for the sky astern was rapidly assuming a blacker, wilder appearance, while it was unquestionable that the sea was increasing in height and breaking more heavily. This last was a serious misfortune for us in a double sense; for, on the one hand, it increased the danger of the boat being pooped, while on the other it materially reduced our progress, our low sails becoming almost completely becalmed, and the boat's way slackening every time that we settled into the hollow of a sea. So greatly did this retard us that at length, despite the undeniable fact that the gale was increasing, we shook out our last reef and attempted the hazardous experiment of scudding under whole canvas. And for a short time we did fairly well, although my heart was in my mouth every time that, as the boat soared upward to the crest of a sea, the blast struck her with a furious sweep, filling the sail with a jerk that threatened to take the mast out of her, and taxing my skill to the utmost to prevent her from broaching-to and capsizing. But it would not do; it was altogether too dangerous an experiment to be continued. It was no longer a question of skill in the handling of the boat, we were tempting Providence and courting disaster, for the wind was freshening rapidly, so we had to haul down a reef again, and even after we had done this we seemed to be scarcely any better off than before.

Meanwhile, however, in the midst of our peril and anxiety we had the satisfactory assurance that we were steadily nearing the ship; for we had risen her until, when both she and the gig happened to be simultaneously hove up on the crest of an unusually heavy sea, we could catch a glimpse not only of the whole of her canvas, but also of the sweep of her rail throughout its length, and we might now hope that at any moment some keen-eyed sailor might notice our tiny sail and call attention to it. Nay, there was just a possibility that this had happened already, for we presently became aware that the ship had taken in her topgallant-sails. Of course this might mean nothing more than mere ordinary precaution on the part of a commander anxious to avoid springing any of his spars; but it might also point to the conclusion that a momentary, doubtful glimpse of us had been caught by somebody, and that the officer of the watch, while sceptical of belief, had shortened sail for a time to afford opportunity for further investigation. But whichever it might happen to be, it improved our prospects of eventual rescue, and we were glad and thankful accordingly.

The question now uppermost in our minds was whether we had or had not been seen by anyone on board the ship. Some of us felt convinced that we had—the wish, doubtless, being father to the thought; but, for my own part, I was exceedingly doubtful. For, as a rule—to which, however, some most shameful and dastardly exceptions have come under my own notice—sailors are always most eager to help their distressed brethren, even at the cost of very great personal inconvenience and peril; and, knowing this, I believed that, had only a momentary and exceedingly doubtful view of us been caught, steps would at once have been taken on board the ship to further test the matter. Some one, for instance, would probably have been sent aloft to get a more extended view of the ocean's surface; nay, it was by no means unlikely that an officer might have taken the duty upon himself, and have searched the ocean with the aid of a telescope, in either of which cases we should soon have been discovered; when the sight of a small boat battling for life against a rapidly increasing gale and an already extremely dangerous sea would doubtless have resulted in the ship hauling her wind to our rescue. Nothing of the kind, however, happened, and we continued our perilous run to leeward upon a course that was slowly converging upon that of the ship, with a feeling of growing doubt and angry despair at the blindness of those whom we were pursuing rapidly displacing the high hopes that had been aroused in our hearts at the first sight of that thrice-welcome sail.

The ship held steadily on her way, and all that we could do was to follow her, with the wind smiting down upon us more fiercely every minute, while each succeeding wave, as it overtook us, curled its angry, hissing crest more menacingly above the stern of the deeply-laden boat. It was a wild, reckless, desperate bit of boat-sailing; and the conviction rapidly grew upon us all that it could not last much longer, we should soon be compelled to abandon the pursuit, or succumb to the catastrophe that momentarily threatened us. If we could but hold out long enough to attract the attention of those blind bats yonder, all might yet be well; but when at length our desperate race had carried us to within about two and a half miles of the ship, and an occasional glimpse of the whole of her hull could be caught when we were both at the same instant hove up on the ridge of a sea, there was no perceptible indication whatever that we had been seen by anybody aboard her. There was no truck, and no flag-halliard fitted to the mast of the gig, and we consequently had no means of hoisting a signal; but even if we had possessed such means they would probably have been useless, because if the sleepy lubbers had not noticed our sail, the exhibition of a comparatively small flag would hardly be likely to attract their attention.

We were still in the midst of an anxious discussion as to what we could possibly do to make ourselves seen, when an end came to our pursuit. A furious squall of wind and rain swooped down upon us, there was a crash, and the mast thwart, unable to endure the additional strain thrown upon it, gave way, the mast lurched forward and went over the bow, sails and all, and at the same moment an unusually heavy sea overtook us, broke in over the boat's stern, and filled her half-way to the thwarts.

I thought now that it was all over with us; fully expecting that the next sea would also break aboard, completely swamp the boat, and leave us all to swim for a few brief, agonising moments, and then to vanish for ever; yet with the never-slumbering instinct of self-preservation, I put the tiller hard over as the crest of the wave swept forward, and then frantically threw out an oar over the stern, with which to sweep the boat round head to sea. How it was achieved I know not to this day, but so furious a strength did I throw into my work that I actually succeeded in almost accomplishing my object; that is to say, I got the boat so far round that, when the next wave met us, the bluff of her starboard bow was presented to it, and although more water came aboard, it was not sufficient to very materially enhance the peril of our situation. Meanwhile the rest of the occupants seized the baler, a bucket that somebody had been thoughtful enough to throw into the boat when preparations were being made to leave the burning Indiaman, their caps, or even their hoots—the first thing, in fact, that came handy— and began baling for their lives.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

The mast and sails of the boat had gone clean over the bows into the water, and would in all probability have been lost to us but for the fact that the shrouds still held; and, this being the case, the boat rode to them as to a sort of floating anchor, keeping her stem-on to the sea. Her trim was such that her bows were considerably more above water than her stern, which may have had something to do with the fact that, although the sea was now higher and more dangerous than ever, the water no longer broke into her. Dumaresq and I, however, were both of opinion that the floating mast, with the sails attached, served in some measure as a breakwater for the seas to expend their most dangerous energies upon, and after discussing the matter a little further it was determined to submit our theory to the test of experiment. The shrouds were accordingly unbent, and the mast hauled alongside, when the boat again began to ship water; moreover, an oar over the stern at once became necessary to keep her bows on to the sea. This experiment satisfied us that our impression was something more than a mere fancy, and we at once went to work to further test it. There were six oars in the boat, and another portion of her equipment was a painter, some six fathoms in length. We securely lashed together the whole six of the oars and the mast, with the sails still attached, in a sort of bundle, by the middle, using the end of the painter as a lashing, and when everything had been made secure we veered away the painter until the whole of it was out, and the bundle of oars and what-not was floating about five fathoms ahead of the boat. This served as a drag, again bringing the gig's bows on to the sea, and a comparatively short period of observation sufficed to convince us that the arrangement did indeed serve also as an appreciable protection to the boat. By the time that this was done the rain had nearly ceased, and presently it cleared up to leeward, revealing the ship once more, under double-reefed topsails, now broad on our larboard quarter and hopelessly beyond all possibility of being overtaken, even had we dared to resume the chase, which, after our recent experience, and in the face of the terrible weather, none of us dreamed of attempting.

It was a cruelly bitter disappointment to us all to reflect that we had been so near to the possibility of rescue, and yet had missed it, and I caught the rumbling notes of more than one sea-blessing invoked upon the heads of the crew, who ought to have seen us, but apparently did not. It was useless, however, to cry over spilt milk, or to murmur against the mysterious decrees of Providence. Our business now was to do all that lay in our power to keep the boat afloat and enable her to ride out the gale; so we baled her dry, trimmed her a trifle more by the stern to enable her to present a bolder bow to the sea, and then piped to dinner.

And now arose fresh cause for distress and apprehension, for when we came to look into the state of our provisions, it was found that pretty nearly everything that was spoilable had been ruined by the salt-water that we had shipped, our bread especially being almost reduced to pulp. We picked out the least damaged portions, however, and ate them, with some chunks of raw salt beef, washing down the whole with a sparing libation of weak grog, after which we felt in somewhat better spirits.

But, oh! the cold and misery of it all! We were drenched to the skin, and the wind seemed to penetrate to our very marrow. Moreover, there was no hope whatever of the slightest improvement so long as the gale continued, for even though the rain had ceased, the air was full of spindrift and scud-water that fell upon us in drenching showers; while, cooped up as we were within the circumscribed dimensions of a small boat, there was no possibility of warming ourselves by exercise or active movement of any sort. The sea was running too dangerously high to admit of our taking to the oars and keeping ourselves warm by that expedient, and all that we could do to mitigate our misery was to huddle closely together in the bottom of the boat, and so shield ourselves as far as possible from the piercing wind and the drenching spray. Had we been able to smoke, matters would not have been so bad with us, but we had no means of obtaining a light; so there we crouched, hour after hour, our teeth clenched or chattering with cold, our drenched clothing clinging to our shivering bodies, and the gale howling over our heads with ever-increasing fury, while the sheets of salt spray lashed us relentlessly like whips of steel. So utterly miserable did we become that at length we even ceased to rise occasionally to take a look round, to see whether, perchance, another sail might have hove in sight. I believe that some of my companions in suffering found a temporary refuge from their wretchedness in short snatches of fitful sleep; at all events I caught at intervals the sound of low mutterings, as of sleeping men; but, as for me, exhausted though I was, I could not sleep. My anxiety on behalf of these poor wretches, who were in a way under my command, and who were certainly dependent to a great extent upon my experience and judgment, seemed to have driven sleep for ever from my eyes.

And so we lay there, hour after hour, now flung aloft until the whole ocean to the limits of the horizon lay spread around us, anon sweeping down the back of some giant billow until it seemed that the boat was about to plunge to the ocean's bed, and the passage of every hour was marked by an increasing greyness and haggardness in the faces of my companions, while a more hopelessly despairing expression came into their eyes.

At length, however, shortly before sunset, a welcome break appeared in the sky to windward; a gleam of watery, yellow light spread along the horizon; the pall of murky vapour broke up into detached masses; small but gradually widening patches of blue sky appeared here and here; and finally we got a momentary glimpse of the sun through a break in the clouds, just as the great luminary was on the point of sinking below the western horizon. We greeted the blessed sight with a cheer of reviving hope, for we knew that the gale was breaking, and that with the moderating of the wind and sea we should once again be able to take some active steps toward our preservation; while, apart from that, the finer weather would at least afford us some relief from our present suffering and misery. About half an hour later there was a noticeable diminution in the strength of the wind, which by midnight had become merely a moderate breeze. The sea no longer broke dangerously, the sky cleared, the stars beamed benignantly down upon us, and there was every prospect of our being able to resume our voyage on the morrow. But although, so far as the weather was concerned, matters were greatly improving with us, our suffering from cold was still very acute, for the night wind seemed to penetrate right through our wet clothes and to strike colder than ice upon our skins that were now burning with fever.

As for me, I envied my more fortunate companions who were able to sleep. I was deadly weary, worn out with prolonged watching and anxiety and exposure; my eyes were burning and my head throbbing with the fever that consumed me, while my teeth were chattering with cold to such an extent that I could scarcely make my speech intelligible. Wild, fantastic, irrelevant fancies were whirling confusedly through my brain, and I found it simply impossible to fix my mind upon the important question of the direction in which we ought to steer upon the resumption of our voyage. For the impression now forced itself upon me that poor Captain Chesney had committed an error of judgment in adhering to his determination to make for the Azores, after the breeze had sprung up from a direction which placed those islands almost dead to windward, and his only alternative of making for the Canaries appeared to be open to the same objection, although in a considerably lesser degree. Then arose the question: If he was mistaken in thus deciding, what ought he to have done? But to this, in the then disordered condition of my mental faculties, I could find no satisfactory reply. At length, while mentally groping for a solution to this knotty problem, I sank into a feverish semi-somnolent condition that eventually merged into sleep, and when I again became conscious, the sun was flashing his first beams across the surface of the heaving waters, now no longer scourged to fury by the lashing of a gale, but just ruffled to a deep, tender blue by the gentle breathing of a soft breeze from the north-east. A very heavy swell was still running, of course; but it no longer broke, and there was nothing whatever to prevent our resuming our voyage at once, saving the question—Whither?

The matter, however, that called for our first and most imperative attention was our own condition. We were still suffering greatly from the effects of prolonged exposure in our still damp clothes, and we could hope for little or no amelioration until our garments were once more dry, and the healthy action of our skin restored; so, to facilitate this, I suggested that we should all strip, and spread out our clothing to thoroughly dry in the sun's now ardent beams, and that, while the drying process was in progress, we should all go overboard and indulge in a good swim. The greater portion of our party thought this advice good enough to be acted upon, and in a few minutes seven of us were in the water and swimming vigorously round the boat; the other three were unable to swim, but they imitated us so far as to strip and pour buckets of water over each other. The water felt pleasantly warm in comparison with the temperature of the air, and we remained overboard for nearly half an hour; then we scrambled back into the boat again, rubbed ourselves and each other vigorously with the palms of our hands, while our bodies were in process of being dried by the joint action of the sun and air; and finally we donned our clothes again, they being by this time quite dry, feeling much refreshed and in every way considerably the better for our bath. Our next business was to go to breakfast, but our bread was by this time so completely destroyed as to be quite uneatable. We therefore threw it overboard, and made a meagre and unpalatable meal off more raw salt beef, washed down as before with weak grog.