"Very dreadful!" said Willy; "and I am thankful there is no chance, of that. In another ten minutes we shall be well clear of them."

"I hope so," said Harry; but still he looked grave.

They had just then reached the forecastle, where the master was standing.

Though the ship was moving on parallel to the side of the berg, the in-draught was evidently carrying her nearer and nearer it. The master had gone on to the end of the bowsprit, where he stood holding on by the stay, and looking anxiously ahead; still it seemed as if no danger need be apprehended.

"What can the master be looking out for?" asked Peter Patch, who had just then come up to Willy; "we are all right enough at last."

The words were scarcely out of the young midshipman's mouth when a loud crash was heard. The ship trembled from stem to stern, and it appeared as if the masts were going by the board. Orders were instantly given to brace round the yards, so as to box the ship off. In so doing she made a stern-board, and drove rapidly in towards the berg. The sound of the first shock had brought all hands on deck. For a moment discipline was well-nigh lost: the soldiers, women, and children came rushing up from below, the poor women frantically shrieking and clinging to their husbands; even some of the seamen, who understood the danger, evidently thought that all hope was gone. The passengers, too, came hurrying up out of their cabins, with dismay on their countenances. Their alarm was still further increased when, in another instant, the stern of the ship struck with tremendous force against the mass of ice concealed below the surface; it seemed indeed as if the stern was completely stove in. At this juncture the voice of Colonel Morley was heard ordering the soldiers below. "Take your wives with you, and remain till you receive fresh orders; they will be safer there than on deck," he exclaimed.

"To your stations, men," shouted Commander Newcombe. "We are not going to lose the ship yet."

The officers hurrying among the men soon brought them back to a sense of their duty. It was found, however, that the damage the ship had received was very severe. The rudder had been torn from its position; the starboard tiller rope had been carried away, and the neck of the rudder was wrenched off so as to render it unserviceable. Believing tackles were at once applied to the tiller, in hopes that the rudder might be made to work; but after several attempts it was found to be utterly useless. In vain were the yards braced round. Without the use of the rudder the ship could not be got sufficiently off to give her head-way. Slowly she continued to drive towards the monstrous berg, which threatened, should she strike it, to overwhelm her in an instant.

"A slight shift of wind would take her off," observed the first-lieutenant to the commander.

"I pray that it may come, then," was the answer.

Again and again the ship struck, evidently on each occasion receiving fearful damage. The soldiers who had been stationed at the pumps had knocked off, forgetting their duty in their alarm, when the ship first struck. The officers now went among them, and urged them to return; Colonel Morley had himself, however, to go before his orders were obeyed. The carpenter, who had been sent to sound the well, reported two feet in the hold. "We may keep that under," observed the commander, "if the men do their duty."

Mrs Rumbelow was not idle all this time. She had been from the first tending to the other women; but when she found that the men were inclined not to obey orders, she was in their midst in an instant. "What, my lads!" she exclaimed; "is this like you, to let the ship sink with your wives and children, and the good colonel, and his lady and daughters, and not do your best to keep her afloat? Shame on you! I would not have believed it if it had been told me!" In another moment the pumps were heard clanking away, and sending out the water as rapidly as before.

The ship was moving at a fearfully rapid rate towards the side of the vast iceberg. The crew, after the first alarm had subsided, exerted themselves manfully, and arrangements were being made for the dreaded encounter. Spars were got out and secured to the sides and quarters, but still some hope remained that the wind might catch her headsails, and pay her off in time to avoid it. Every instant, however, that hope lessened, and on she drove, stern foremost, till the summit of the berg appeared almost overhead. Close at hand was seen, between two bluffs, a vast cavern, into which it seemed more than probable that the ship would drive, and if so, her escape would be impossible.

Such moments try the stoutest hearts. Many countenances became pale, and some eyes were turned away from the danger; but the commander and officers faced it boldly, while the crew remained steadily at their stations. Willy Dicey fully understood the terrific danger in which they were placed. He looked at the blue sky, at the sun shining brightly, at the waters dancing gaily, and he thought of the loved ones at home, and of the little prospect which existed of their ever hearing of him again. But, boy though he was, even his young heart did not quail; he was at the post of duty, he knew that; and he knew that there was One all-powerful watching over him, who would carry him safely through the danger, if He thought fit.

Nearer and nearer the "Ranger" drew to the iceberg—the bravest held their breath as they saw that she must inevitably strike. Then came a fearful crash. So perpendicular was the side of the berg that the stern davits drove right against it. The stern boat was crushed in, a portion of the taffrail and the upper part of the spar-deck bulwarks wrenched off. It seemed as if the whole stern of the ship was about to be carried away. Her larboard quarter next came in contact with the ice, but the severity of the shock saved her; for after the damage which has been described was received, she again bounded off with a cant to starboard. The jib was instantly run up, and it and the other headsails catching the wind, away she glided from the berg. Those who had their eyes turned aft, however, could not refrain from uttering a cry of horror, for at that instant the berg, shaken by the concussion, threatened to fall over and crush them. From its summit down came rushing an avalanche of ice and snow, a portion of the mass even striking the poop. Still the ship glided on; the after-sails were trimmed, and again she was clear of another threatened danger. Yet, with the rudder gone, her stern crushed in, with numberless rents in her side, and two of her masts carried away, the "Ranger" was indeed in a perilous condition.

The first thing to be done was to get the rudder repaired. The breeze had increased, and rendered the operation difficult. The weather, too, had far from a satisfactory appearance. Whatever Commander Newcombe thought of the prospect of ultimately saving the ship, he was not the man to relax in his efforts till the last. It was no easy matter to steer the ship while the rudder was being repaired; the only means of doing so was by keeping the yards swinging to and fro, in order to direct the ship's head towards the opening between the bergs.

Mrs Rumbelow insisted on lending a hand in pulling and hauling. "Why, boys," she exclaimed, "I can do it as well as any of you, and I don't see why a woman should be idle because she is a woman." She well knew that by acting thus she should assist in keeping up the men's spirits.

At length the rudder was shipped, but even then it could be only worked by relieving tackles, which required a number of hands for the purpose.

The carpenter had been so busy with the rudder that he had not for some time sounded the well. He now did so.

"Are we keeping the leaks under, Mr Chisel?" asked the commander, when he came to make his report.

"No, sir, I am sorry to say we are not," he answered. "There are three feet of water in the hold, and I fear, from the damages the ship has received, that no power can keep her afloat much longer. If we cannot repair them, you know, sir, that it won't be for want of our doing our best."

"I am very sure of that, Mr Chisel, and hope that we may still overcome the leaks, if the sea continues tolerably smooth," observed the commander. "But we must not let the pumps be idle." He said this in a cheerful tone, that those who overheard the carpenter's report might not lose heart.

The ship was now standing out clear of the ice, and being thus more exposed than before to the sea, which rolled in from the northward, began to labour heavily. In a short time the carpenter again reported that the water had gained another foot on the pumps in spite of the incessant way they had been kept going. The commander now summoned the superior officers round him, though what was said was not generally known. The first-lieutenant instantly collecting a party of men, led them between-decks, where, aided by some of the soldiers, they at once set to work to heave overboard such heavy stores and provisions as could be got at. Everything that had been received at the Cape was thrown overboard. The purser was in despair. "Remember, Tobin," he observed, "we have got all these mouths to feed. We may as well drown at first as starve."

"You are right, purser," answered the first-lieutenant. "We will get up what provisions we can, and place them on the upper deck. They will soon be destroyed if they remain where they are."

At length the ship got clear of the ice, and now the crew were piped below to snatch a hasty meal, those only required to work the rudder and the pump gangs remaining on duty. Matters did not change much till the sun went down in a bank of dark clouds, its rays casting a ruddy glow across the western sky. As darkness came on, the wind increased, the waters becoming covered with crests of foam, which danced and hissed around the ship. No one could be ignorant of their dangerous position; but in spite of it, most of the weary seamen and soldiers not actually on duty turned into their berths to sleep. The officers did so likewise, though they were aware that it might perhaps be the last sleep they should ever enjoy. Two persons, however, did not for a moment retire to their berths, the commander of the ship and the colonel of the regiment. Both felt that the lives of the people under them had been committed to their charge. The commander remained on deck to take advantage of any change for the better which might occur, or to guard against any fresh accident; and the colonel, that he might go among his men labouring at the pumps, and encourage them to persevere in their duty. The hammocks had been piped down as usual, and most of the men turned into them all standing. Willy Dicey had done the same, though, weary as he was, he could not for some time go to sleep—an unusual event in a midshipman's career. He was thinking of home and the loved ones there, and those voyaging like himself; and when he did sleep, he continued dreaming of, that same home, and of his brother and sisters, now probably far distant from it. He fancied in his troubled dreams that he saw their ship tempest-tossed. Now her masts and yards were shattered. Onward she drove towards a rocky shore. He was there himself; he stretched out his arms, imploring them to keep at a distance. Still on came the ship; her destruction seemed inevitable. Wildly he waved his arms—he shrieked loudly. A dreadful crash was heard—the ship was split into a thousand fragments. He awoke. That loud crash rang in his ears; he sprang from his hammock, and rushed on deck. One of the jury-masts had gone.

Morning was breaking, the faint grey light exhibiting the destruction which had taken place, and the wild leaden-coloured sea, which rose in foaming billows around, now leaping here, now there, threatening destruction to the ship. At the same moment the boatswain's whistle sounded shrilly, calling all hands on deck. While one party was endeavouring to secure the jury-mast which had been carried away, another was employed in fothering a sail: this, filled with oakum, was lowered over the bows and drawn under the keel, where it was hoped the water rushing in would suck it into the leaks, and thus contribute to stop them. It seemed, however, to have but little effect.

"We must try another sail," said the commander. The sail was prepared, and, like the first, with great difficulty dragged under the ship's bottom. The seamen employed in the work were drenched to the skin by the heavy seas which frequently broke over the hapless ship; still they persevered, no one flinching from the work. Harry Shafto attracted the notice of the commander by his activity. Willy Dicey imitated him to the best of his power. Although not so strong as a man, by his intelligence and comprehension of what was to be done he was able to direct others, and thus rendered good service.

"I say, Dicey," exclaimed Peter Patch, who was standing near him, "do you think really the ship will go down? I feel awfully queer. I wish that I'd followed your advice about some things long ago. I should like to say my prayers, but I don't know how to begin, and there isn't time for it now."

"That's it," answered Willy. "Had you said them morning and night, and not have been afraid of our messmates laughing at you, you would have known how to say them even while you are hard at work. I don't think God would be well pleased if we all were to knock off, and go down on our knees to pray and ask Him for help while we were neglecting to help ourselves."

"I must work now, at all events," said Peter.

"Of course you must," answered Willy, "or praying would be mockery; but you can pray out of your heart while you are pulling and hauling, or while you are running along the deck with a message."

"I daresay you are right, Dicey," sighed Peter; "but it's very terrible. I had no thought, when we left England, that we should get into such a scrape as this. For what I see, we may all be drowned, or be driven on those fearful icebergs, and be frozen to death before many days are over."

"Very true, Peter. I have been thinking the same; but it is our duty to struggle to the end—first to try and save the ship, and then our own lives."

Matters did not mend as the day advanced. Again and again the carpenter sounded the well, and reported that the water had rather increased than diminished. The after-part of the deck was now scuttled, so that more provisions and stores could be got up and hove overboard. The pumps continued to be worked as energetically as at first, but still the water gained on them, till it reached the orlop-deck.

The fearful condition of the ship could no longer be concealed from the people. Even the most sanguine began to lose heart. Many cast wistful glances at the boats. Notwithstanding this, the commander kept them labouring at the pumps, still hoping against hope that the wind and sea might go down, and that the ship might be kept afloat. At length, however, some of the crew showed signs of giving in. Willy saw several of them steal off to hide themselves away, but he instantly followed and drove them up again; they grumbled, but obeyed.

"What's the use of working when we shall have to go to the bottom in a few hours?" exclaimed one.

"I only wish we had a chance of getting to the spirit room," cried another. "A short life and a merry one for me."

"You should be ashamed of yourselves," cried the young midshipman. "Are you men with souls, and do you wish to die like dogs?" The seamen, astonished at a mere boy thus addressing them, felt ashamed, and returned to their duty. Others, however, soon afterwards were seen behaving in the same manner. Willy, falling in with Mr Bolland, reported what he had observed.

"We will soon put a stop to that," observed the boatswain, seizing a rope's end. He was not long in hunting out the fellows.

The water continuing to rise, the poor women and children were now collected on the poop cabins.

There they sat, crouching down on the deck, holding their children in their arms, and hiding their pallid faces. Mrs Rumbelow was the only one who remained calm. She might have been a little more excited than usual, as she went among them, trying to cheer them up. "Do not be downhearted, my dear women," she exclaimed. "There is a God in heaven, remember, who takes care of us. He may make the storm to cease, and keep the old ship afloat notwithstanding all the leaks she has got in her bottom. Do you think the men of our regiment are not going to do their duty, and work away at the pumps as long as the pumps will work? If they do not, we will go and handle them ourselves, and put them to shame. Hurrah, lasses! you think better of your young husbands than to suppose that, and we old ones have tried ours, and know that they will not shirk their duty." Still, though Mrs Rumbelow spoke thus cheerfully, she had a heavy weight at her heart. She had been too often at sea not to know the danger the ship was in, and she observed no signs of the weather improving.

The night was again drawing on; Commander Newcombe had done his utmost. The ship was kept under easy sail, to relieve her as much as possible. He would get another sail fothered, which might help to keep out the water a few hours longer. "Should that fail," he observed to Mr Tobin, "we must get the boats ready, and endeavour to save the lives of as many as they can hold."

"Too true, sir," was the answer. "I see no other prospect for us."

"We must trust in God, Mr Tobin; He is our only hope," observed the commander with a sigh.

Darkness came down once more upon the hapless ship as she lay rolling and pitching heavily in that cold antarctic sea. The pumps kept clanking away the whole night; the gush of water was heard even amid the roar of the waves, as it rushed from her sides. The men crouched down in groups at their stations in different parts of the ship, many a stout heart knowing full well that at any moment the fearful cry might be heard, "She is sinking! she is sinking!"

The colonel was in his cabin with his wife and daughters. Captain Power sat at the table reading, or endeavouring to read, and every now and then addressing a few remarks to the officers around him. They were mostly behaving as English gentlemen generally do behave under such circumstances, with calm courage, ready to perform any duty which might be required of them. The only person who did not show his face was the unhappy Ensign Holt, who kept himself shut up in his cabin for most of the time. Now and then he appeared, with a pale face, to inquire whether the leaks were being got under; and on being told that they were still gaining on the pumps, he rushed back again, with a look of dismay on his countenance.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE "CRUSADER" IN THE TROPICS.

FINE WEATHER—LIGHTS ON THE OCEAN—FLYING-FISH COME ON BOARD— TROPIC-BIRDS—A SHARK CAUGHT—SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS—A CALM—FEVER BREAKS OUT—DEATHS AMONG THE EMIGRANTS—MR PAGET'S ACTIVITY—THE DICEYS ASSIST THE SICK—SIGNS OF A COMING BREEZE—A GALE COMES ON— JACK-O'-LANTERN—JOB MAWSON'S ALARM—REEFS SHAKEN OUT—A MAN OVERBOARD— CHARLES AND WINDY GO OFF IN BOAT—BOAT LOST SIGHT OF—SEARCH IN VAIN FOR THE BOAT—EMILY AND MAY'S GRIEF.

Little did Charles Dicey and his sisters think of the fearful dangers to which their brother Willy was exposed. The "Crusader" sailed on over the smooth sea, with her white canvas spread out, towering to the sky, studding-sails on either side reaching to the very surface of the water.

An awning had been spread over the after-part of the ship, and beneath it the cabin passengers assembled, sheltered from the hot rays of the sun. Neither Charles nor Mr Paget were ever idle, and their example generally induced many of their companions to work also. Mrs Clagget, if she did nothing else, always contrived to keep her tongue going. Emily and May were usually well employed. Their attention, however, was frequently called to the various objects which appeared around them. They enjoyed watching the flights of flying-fish which darted with the speed of arrows out of the water, hovered like birds in the air for a few seconds, scarcely touching the foam-crested seas, and then sunk quickly again beneath the surface. "How beautiful and blue are the reflections on their glittering wings, how transparent their tiny bodies, how light their movements!" observed Emily; "they look like ocean elves, as they float through the air. What a happy life they must lead—now in the pure ocean, now getting an uninterrupted sight of the glorious sun and the clear sky above them."

"They would have a very different tale to tell, Miss Dicey, if they could speak to you," observed Mr Paget. "Could your eyes pierce through the surface, you would see some savage bonitos or dolphins pursuing the hapless fish who visit the air, not for amusement, but in the hopes of escaping from their persecutors."

Just then a large covey was seen to rise abeam close to the ship. They flew high into the air, and in an instant the deck was covered with their floundering bodies; their wings, dried by the heat of the sun, no longer spread out, they looked like ordinary fish.

"Catch them, catch them," cried Mrs Clagget; "they will make a delightful dish for dinner."

"Poor creatures—how unromantic you are," said Emily.

"I am practical, my dear. I pride myself on being practical," answered Mrs Clagget. "I prefer eating them myself to allowing the dolphins to have them for their supper." Jumbo, the cook's mate, seemed to be of Mrs Clagget's opinion, for in an instant he was among the poor fish, tumbling them into his bucket as fast as he could pick them up.

"That's a wise lad," observed the loquacious lady. "If any of you happened to be in a boat far away from land without provisions, you would be very glad to have a dish of those fish fly on board."

"But we happen to have plenty of provisions, and are not in want of the poor fish," said Charles. "However, if they were thrown overboard again, I suspect that they would have very little reason to thank us, as the bonitos would speedily swallow them up."

"Get them while you can, Mr Charles," said Mrs Clagget, nodding her head. "Some day, perhaps, you would be very thankful if you could only catch a single one, and be ready to eat it raw." Mrs Clagget's tongue was apt to run on so fast that she now and then said things, among the many she uttered, which came true, in which instances she never failed to boast of her prophetic powers. Shortly afterwards, a number of those beautiful inhabitants of tropical seas, the little Portuguese men-of-war, were seen floating round the ship on the crest of the waves, their out-spread fans sparkling and glistening with the transparent brightness of crystal; as the wind blew them gently through the sea, their wings reflected all the colours of the rainbow. As Emily and May were admiring them, they saw the terrible dismay the ship created among them, as she passed through their midst. As the ship sailed on, the sea-gulls of the northern ocean were succeeded by the high towering tropic-birds, several of which were seen; appearing at first like mere specks in the blue sky, where, with the wonderful balloon apparatus with which they are furnished, they floated calmly at their ease, then suddenly descending like bolts from the skies, they pounced down upon the nether world, to seize some hapless fish swimming unconscious of danger near the surface of the ocean. Beautiful creatures they appeared, with two long streamer-like feathers floating behind their wide-spreading wings. Now and then a sword-fish of a bright hue shot with gold darted by, and huge sharks might be seen turning up their evil eyes with longing glances toward the ship. Bill Windy did not fail to point them out to the boys who were sky-larking in the rigging, and to bid them take care not to fall overboard to become a prey of the monsters. One of the savage creatures continued to follow the ship so pertinaciously that the mate vowed he would punish him for his audacity.

"Either the brute will be catching some of us, or we must catch him," he observed, as he prepared a harpoon and line. Descending by the dolphin-striker, he stood on the bob-stay, watching with keen eye and lifted arm for the shark, which now dropped astern, now swam lazily alongside. Bill ordered one of the men to get out to the jibboom end with a piece of pork, and heave it as far ahead as he could fling. No sooner did the creature see the tempting bait than he darted forward, and turning round to seize it exposed the white under side of his body to a blow from Bill's harpoon, driven home with right good will. The men on deck who held the line hauled away on the slack, while others stood by with bowlines in their hands ready to slip them over the shark's head and tail.

"Haul away," cried the mate, who was on deck in a moment; and the savage creature, in spite of its convulsive struggles, was hoisted up, and lay a helpless captive on the forecastle. Here it continued to plunge and strike out with its tail, keeping the seamen at a respectful distance. Now and then one would rush in with a handspike and endeavour to give it a blow, which might have settled it; but so rapid were its movements that it was necessary to be wary, as one stroke of that tail would have been sufficient to break a man's leg. The shark was at length killed and cut up. In spite of its cannibal propensities, many of the emigrants gladly accepted portions, and even the seamen did not refuse to eat a slice of their hated foe.

While the day presented much to occupy the attention, the night also afforded many objects of interest. The constellations of the northern hemisphere were now sinking one by one in the ocean; the Great Bear disappeared, followed by the Polar Star, and in their stead, towards the south, rose the Southern Cross, each night appearing higher and higher in the firmament. Charles and his sisters gazed at the beautiful constellation with deep interest. Beneath its glittering light they expected to pass the greatest portion of their future life; and it seemed to welcome them to the new world to which they were bound. Charles confessed that, interesting as it was, it scarcely equalled in beauty several of the northern constellations on which he had been accustomed to gaze. Now, too, the Magellanic clouds appeared in the heavens, composed probably of countless millions of worlds, so far away that the human mind can scarcely calculate their distance from this tiny world of ours. At night, also, Charles, with his sisters at his side, often watched the track of the ship on the ocean, which appeared like a broad road dotted with brilliant and innumerable stars; while on either side the waves were lighted up by thousands of electric sparks, appearing here and there; now lost altogether, now dispersed, as the waves rose and fell. Sometimes, when the wind freshened, and a huge sea broke against the bows with a tremendous crash, the spray appeared all alight, rising in the air to fall on deck like drops of fire.

"Who would not wish to come to sea to witness such a spectacle as this?" exclaimed Emily, with enthusiasm, as the whole ocean appeared glowing with flashes of brilliant light. The remark was made not to Mrs Clagget, but to Mr Paget, who stood by her side.

"You would scarcely suppose that this glorious illumination of the ocean is caused by countless numbers of minute living creatures," he observed. "As the telescope reveals to us some of the wonders of the heavens, so the microscope enables to inspect many of the smallest of created beings."

"What, Mr Paget, is every spark of light we see a living creature?" asked May.

"Yes, indeed," was the answer. "And probably we see at a time not a thousandth part of the number of those which are floating around."

The ship all this time had been standing over towards the coast of South America, then to steer parallel with it, till, feeling the influence of the trade winds, she was to keep eastward towards her destination. Hitherto good progress had been made, and a rapid passage was expected; but near the Tropic of Capricorn the wind fell, till a dead calm rested on the ocean; gradually every ripple was (as Mrs Clagget expressed it) smoothed out of the water. The sails hung idly down against the masts, chips of wood thrown overboard floated alongside, the sun struck down with terrific force, the whole sea shining like a sheet of burnished gold. The passengers could no longer bear the heat below; and when they came on deck, and sought whatever shade could be found, they gained but little by the change. Though the sky, after a time, became overcast, and a light steamy mist pervaded the atmosphere, the heat, rather than moderating, increased. Few on board could resist complaining. Night brought no relief. People who had appeared active enough before sat listless about the decks. Books, if open, were unread. The seamen even exhibited the same listlessness as the rest of those on board. Emily and May did their best to keep up their spirits, but their efforts were unavailing. Captain Westerway and Bill Windy were among the few who appeared unaffected. Mr Paget, also exerting himself to the utmost, went about his usual occupations, and endeavoured to revive the spirits of his companions. It was evident, however, that unless a breeze should spring up some evil consequences would too probably ensue. Day after day the ship floated on the glassy sea, no sail in sight, the only object ever visible beyond her deck being some wandering tropic bird, which might be seen hovering on high, watching with keen sight for its prey.

The surgeon appeared one morning with a grave face, to make his report to the captain. Several of the steerage passengers were on the sick list. As the day wore on, others were added to them: some, he feared, were cases of malignant fever. They were removed to a part of the ship screened off to serve as an hospital. Nothing else could be done except to fumigate the "between-decks," that operation rather adding to the heat than otherwise. The cabin passengers at length became alarmed.

"Oh, dear, what shall we do if there is fever?" exclaimed Mrs Clagget to her young companions. "We must take care that no one ever comes near us."

No one was more alarmed than Mr Job Mawson; for, in spite of the heat, he shut himself up in his cabin, and was afraid of coming in contact even with the steward, lest he should have passed near any of the sick emigrants. Mr Paget, on the contrary, was more active than ever; he, without hesitation, spent many hours of each day visiting those stricken down by disease, and endeavouring to rouse the spirits of those who had hitherto escaped. Charles Dicey, in spite of Mrs Clagget's warnings, accompanied him, and gave every assistance in his power to the surgeon. Day after day others were added to the numbers already suffering from fever. One poor woman, the mother of a family, sank beneath it, and it was a sad spectacle to all on deck as the body, secured in canvas, and heavily weighted, was committed to the deep. The voice of Captain Westerway, generally so firm, trembled as he read the funeral service. Another and another followed. At last the good captain entreated Mr Paget to perform the painful duty for him. How every one longed for a breeze to carry the fever-stricken ship out of that inhospitable region! It was supposed that the disease must have been brought on board, and had only now developed itself, as the poor woman who had just died had been ill when she left England.

Emily and May had at first listened to Mrs Clagget's advice, but when so many women and children became ill, they could no longer refrain from assisting in nursing them. Fearlessly they sat by the side of the sick, reading to the elder ones, and trying to soothe and comfort the younger children. Several children of the first poor woman who had died followed their mother to her watery grave.

Charles at first tried to persuade his sisters that they were not called upon to risk their health.

"Then why do you risk yours, brother?" asked Emily. "Your life, surely, is as precious as ours. You would get on very well without us, but we should be forlorn creatures indeed if left alone. I am sure we are but doing our duty, and there is One above who will protect us."

"But I am more hardy than you are," argued Charles. "I can go aloft, too, and get any germs of fever which I might have contracted blown away."

"There is no wind to blow them away," said Emily, "and we are not more likely to catch the fever than you are. Let us do our duty, and leave the rest to God."

Still, though Charles was not thoroughly convinced, his sisters gained their object. That very day they visited the hospital, nursed the poor children, gave them their medicine and food, and rendered all the assistance they could to the sick mothers. Charles used to look anxiously at them every morning as they appeared at breakfast, fearful of hearing them complain of illness; but the bloom of health still glowed on their cheeks, and though grave, and sometimes sad when another victim had been added to those already taken off by the disease, they retained their spirits and courage.

"Really, Dicey, you are a brave fellow," said Jack Ivyleaf one day, while Charles was taking his usual walk on deck for exercise. "I cannot bring myself to go among those sick people as you do. It's all very well to go forward and amuse them when they are in health, and inclined to be jolly; but to go and sit in the hot, sweltering atmosphere between-decks is quite another thing."

"Possibly, Mr Ivyleaf, you do not reflect that those poor sick people have immortal souls like ourselves," observed Mr Paget, who had that instant joined them. "If we profess to be Christians we should look upon them as brothers in distress, and do our utmost for their souls as well as their bodies."

"Ah, no, to be sure," said Jack, keeping his mouth agape, and gazing at Mr Paget. "I should have thought that sort of work might be left to the parson and doctor."

"But as we have no parson on board, and the doctor is overworked, does it not strike you that the poor people have a right to our assistance?" asked Mr Paget.

"Right! I don't see that they can have any right!" said Jack; "though it's very kind in you and Dicey to attend to them." Jack Ivyleaf looked as if he was afraid that his companions wished to enlist him in the service he dreaded, and was evidently trying to make his escape from them.

The captain and first officer were on deck. The latter had been casting an eager look for some time to the north-west.

"We shall have it soon, sir," he observed, pointing with his hand.

"Turn the hands up, Mr Windy, and trim sails," said the captain in a cheerful voice. "See there, gentlemen, those clouds yonder are the pleasantest sight I have seen for many days." A low bank of clouds could be observed resting on the horizon. It grew higher and higher every instant, while a dark line could be seen extending across the ocean in the same direction. The sea, however, continued as calm as before; around the ship not a ripple could be seen on its surface. The crew, hurrying from below, went to their stations, all eyes being turned in the direction of the approaching clouds. Presently cats'-paws began to play over the mirror-like expanse, and then to disappear; the sails slowly bulged out, and speedily again hung down as listlessly as before against the masts. The dark line grew brighter and brighter; presently the loftier sails swelled out, and the ship began to glide smoothly over the ocean. The joyful news was communicated below, and all who were not in their beds came up on deck. The ship, at length feeling the power of the helm, was put before the wind. The dark line now increased gradually in width, and seemed covered with sparkling foam; a rushing noise was heard; in another instant almost the aspect of the whole ocean was changed; the sails bulged out steadily; waves, at first but small, danced up astern, and on either side their crests hissing and foaming, while the spray in broad sheets flew off from their summits. Now the stout ship dashed forward, every instant increasing her speed, as if eager to make up for the time lost. On she went, faster and faster, rising to the seas, and plunging into them as they rolled around her. The lighter sails were taken in. A strong gale was blowing—it was increasing too. The clouds now rapidly gathered in dense masses across the sky; the seamen were busy in all directions securing the boats, the spars, and other articles hitherto left about the deck.

"We shall have a heavy gale, gentlemen, before long," observed the captain, in answer to Mr Paget's and Charles' inquiries respecting the weather. "It's what I have been wishing for, as nothing else is likely to clear us of this terrible fever." Before night his predictions were verified, and the ship, under close-reefed topsails, was running on at the rate of twelve knots or more an hour.

Emily and May found it far more difficult to attend to their charges than during the calm; but they still persevered; and though it was very hot between-decks, yet the sick people felt sensibly the change which had occurred in the atmosphere.

For several days the "Crusader" ran on before the gale; sometimes, indeed, the wind blew so hard, and the ship rolled and tossed and tumbled about so much, that many wished the calm back again. One night the thunder roared and rattled overhead with crashing peals; bright lightning darted from the skies. All hands were on deck, for it was impossible to say what might next occur. The masts strained and cracked, and it seemed every instant that the canvas would be blown out of the boltropes. The dark seas came rolling up astern, their crests hissing and foaming, threatening to break over the poop. Several of the gentlemen passengers were collected on deck. Suddenly a voice was heard, exclaiming in a tone of terror, "What is that? Oh mercy, mercy!" They looked aloft; at the end of the yardarm was a mass of bluish light like a small globe. Charles saw Job Mawson standing not far off; his knees were knocking together, his arms outstretched. Presently the light began to move, and suddenly it appeared at the mainmast head; there it remained stationary for some time.

"What is it?" exclaimed Job Mawson. "Oh, captain, do make it go away!"

"It is nothing very terrible," answered Bill Windy, who overheard him. "We might easily box up that fellow, if it were worth while to go aloft and catch him."

"Let no one make the attempt," said the captain. "I must not have you, Mr Windy, or the men, risk your lives to catch a jack-o'-lantern. I hope it's a sign that the gale is breaking, and that we shall have moderate weather again before long."

Job Mawson did not appear as satisfied with this explanation of the captain's as the rest of the passengers; he continued watching the light with a terror-stricken glance, as if he expected something dreadful was about to happen. At length, now travelling to one mast-head, now to the other, and back again to the yardarm, it finally disappeared. The wind, however, continued blowing for some time as hard as ever. When morning broke, it had somewhat moderated, and as the day wore on, a strong breeze only was blowing. The sea, notwithstanding this, continued as high as ever, and consequently the ship rolled and tumbled about fully as much as before. The captain, who had been on deck all the night and a great part of the forenoon, at length retired to his berth.

Bill Windy had the watch, Charles was standing near him.

"What do you think of the weather now?" he asked.

"Can't say that I think it settled yet," answered Bill. "There's a stormy look away there to the nor'ard, but the captain ordered me to shake the reefs out of the topsails if it grows no worse; though, to my mind, we shall have to take them in again before nightfall."

Bill took a turn on deck, then ordered the hands aloft to shake out the reefs. The topsails were sheeted home; the ship felt the fresh impulse given to her, and went bounding on over the tossing ocean. The mate walked the deck keeping a watchful eye to windward.

"I don't know what to make of it, Mr Dicey," he observed to Charles. "It is always well to take a reef in in good time, and better seamanship, too, to my mind, than to wait till the squall is down upon one. Still, we have lost so much time in that calm that it won't do to be shortening sail before it is necessary. The surgeon, too, wishes the captain, unless the sickness abates, to put into the Cape, that the people may be landed and the ship fumigated."

"I am thankful to hear that," said Charles; "a few days on shore may, I hope, restore all to health."

Although no deaths had occurred for several days, a considerable number of the people still remained on the sick list, many of the cases being very severe. Even to people in health, the steerage of an emigrant ship is not a desirable place, especially in a hot climate; and now the poor sufferers were not only confined below with closed hatches, but the ship was tumbling and rolling fearfully about, the masts were groaning, the bulk-heads creaking, the stamping of feet was heard overhead, the waves were constantly dashing against the sides, while now and then came the heavy blow of a sea, as it fell on board and deluged the decks.

Bill Windy and Charles had continued their walk for some time, when the mate, looking to windward, exclaimed, "It's high time to shorten sail, or we shall have the masts whipped out of the ship. Boy, call the captain! Hands aloft—two reefs in the topsails." The crew were running up the rigging, when Captain Westerway made his appearance. The men quickly laid out on the yards, and were busily employed in gathering up the sails. An active young topman, whom Charles had seen just before laughing and joking with his shipmates, was on the lee-yardarm; while, with earing in hand, he was passing the point through the cringle, the ship gave a heavy lurch, he lost his hold, and was jerked off the yard. For an instant he was seen hanging on to the earing; but it would have required superhuman strength to maintain his hold with the ship pitching and rolling as she was doing; in another moment he fell headlong into the foaming sea. Scarcely had he touched the water when Bill Windy ran to the falls of the lifeboat on the starboard side, crying out for volunteers. Charles followed him. The most active men were aloft; but several gathered at the falls. The captain took the helm, relieving the man at the wheel, who hurried to assist the mate. Bill, with three hands, was already in the boat. Charles leaped in also.

"You had better not, Mr Dicey," exclaimed Bill. "Get up the side again, and let another hand come. You don't know the danger you are running."

"Not more than you," answered Charles.

"It's my duty, sir," said Bill, "and not yours; do be advised by me."

Charles, however, was eager to go to the assistance of the young seaman. There were in all six stout hands in the boat. The lifebuoy had been let go. Some time passed before the seaman saw it; at last he made towards it, but his strength seemed insufficient to buffet with that rough sea. The attention of most on board was for the moment engaged rather with the boat endeavouring to carry help to the drowning man than to the man himself. The greater number of the crew, too, were occupied in handing the sails. This task had to be accomplished before the ship could be brought to. That was itself a manoeuvre of no small danger, yet the sea was not sufficiently high, nor the wind too strong, to make it altogether impracticable. The boat at length got clear off, and pulled away in the direction the man had last been seen, Mr Paget and other passengers pointing with their hands to guide them. Charles seized an oar—there were only four in the boat; the mate took the helm. They had not pulled far when one of the oars broke. This was seen from the ship. Mr Paget observed that the boat had rapidly dropped a long way to leeward. While he was watching her, a huge wave rose up between her and the ship. He looked anxiously, expecting to see her on the crest of the sea. She was nowhere visible. It was some time before another hand came aft to the helm to relieve the captain. The second and third mates were forward. Not a seaman had been able to keep his eye upon the boat. Mr Paget, however, felt sure he knew where she could be found. The captain was now able to look about for her. Mr Paget told him his fears.

"I am afraid you are right, sir," he said, after he had continued for some time looking out all around.

"The boat has been swamped. I have no doubt about it." Mr Paget's heart sank within him at these words; he had formed a sincere regard for Charles Dicey; he felt still more for the poor girls who were thus deprived of their brother.

"I hoped better things of that boat," observed the captain; "but a very heavy sea is running even for her. Poor fellows, I would to heaven this had not happened. Still she may have escaped."

He hailed the men aloft, and desired them to look out. No one could see the boat; and neither the lifebuoy nor the young sailor, who, it was supposed, had got hold of it, were anywhere to be seen. The captain continued looking out for some time, ordering those aloft also to keep a bright look-out. At length he gave the order to brace round the yards, and the ship once more gathered way. "We must not give them up yet; so I will wear ship, and run over the ground we have passed."

While this manoeuvre was being carried out the Miss Diceys and several other ladies, followed by Mrs Clagget, appeared on deck.

"What is the matter, captain?" exclaimed the latter. "They tell me that a man has fallen overboard, and that a boat has gone to look for him. How could you let a boat go away while the sea is tumbling about in this terrible fashion; and, pray, who has gone in her? Ah, Mr Paget, I am glad to see you have not risked your life. But where is Charles Dicey? Just like him, to do such a madcap trick. My dear girls, your brother jumped into the boat to pick up a silly man who tumbled overboard, and they cannot find him or any of those who went with him."

"Our brother!" exclaimed Emily and May in a tone of alarm. "Where is the boat? Oh! do tell us, Captain Westerway; we do not see her."

"We are somewhat anxious about the boat, I confess, Miss Dicey," said Mr Paget, approaching Emily and May; "but still we may hope to find her. In this mountainous sea she might be easily concealed between the waves, though at no great distance."

In vain, however, every one on board kept looking out for the missing boat. The ship was standing back exactly over the spot where she had been lowered. The only sign of her was a broken oar, which tossed up and down—for a moment was seen, and then disappeared. Mrs Clagget continued to abuse Charles for his foolhardiness, as she called it.

"Poor young man, I wish he had not gone," said the good captain; "but it was a brave deed. I ought not to have allowed the boat to be lowered; but I could not bear to let one of my fellows perish without an attempt to save him; and I thought that lifeboat could be trusted."

"Very wrong in all concerned," exclaimed Mrs Clagget. "But surely, captain, you don't think poor Charles is really lost, and your worthy mate too. I had a great respect for that honest man."

"Indeed, madam, I fear such is the case," said the captain with a sigh; "and I trust you will do your best to console those dear young ladies. It will break their hearts, I am afraid, for it is easy to see what affection they have for their brother."

Emily and May were, as may be supposed, almost stricken down by grief when they were told, though as cautiously as possible by Mr Paget, of what had occurred. Not till night had arrived, and all hopes had been abandoned, could they be induced to leave the deck. They stood with their hands clasped together, looking out over the tossing sea as though they expected the boat which contained him they loved so much would appear again in sight.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE "RANGER'S" BOATS ARE SENT AWAY.

THE PUMPS DISABLED—THE WOMEN PLACED IN BOATS—YOUNGER OFFICERS AND BOYS SENT AWAY—THE CAPTAIN AND COLONEL REMAIN—THE CAPTAIN'S LETTER—CHILD SAVED BY YOUNG BROKE—SHIP DRIVING ON LAUNCH—ESCAPE OF LAUNCH—VOYAGE IN BOATS COMMENCED—LAST SIGHT OF "RANGER"—MRS RUMBELOW ENCOURAGES HER COMPANIONS—BOATS RUNNING BEFORE THE GALE—MRS MORLEY'S GRIEF—A CABIN FORMED FOR THE WOMEN—A SEA BREAKS ON BOARD—SEARCH FOR PROVISIONS— FIRST NIGHT IN THE BOAT—HARRY SHAFTO AT THE HELM—THE WEATHER MODERATES—IMPOSSIBILITY OF RETURNING TO THE SHIP—SCARCITY OF WATER— THE DOCTOR MANUFACTURES A STILL—VARIOUS PROVISIONS DISCOVERED.

Dreary as was the night, it was happily of no long duration. Daylight again appeared; but the scene was as forlorn and threatening as that of the previous morning.

While the first-lieutenant and Harry Shafto, and some of the other officers, were engaged in examining the boats and clearing them of lumber, the purser was busily employed in collecting provisions, and separating those of various description, so that each boat might be supplied with a sufficiency, in due proportion.

"The boats will not carry a quarter of our number," observed Harry to the first-lieutenant.

"No, Shafto," was the answer. "We know that. The captain has decided who is to go in each of them. Then we who remain must form rafts, and do the best we can to save our lives."

"Should the ship sink beneath us!" observed Harry. "I fear, in this cold and stormy sea, that a raft would be of no real service, though it might prolong our existence for a few hours."

"We, however, must do our best to preserve the lives of the poor people committed to our charge," said Mr Tobin.

"We certainly must do that, if possible," said Harry; "and it seems to me that the sea has gone down a little since daybreak; I have been watching it anxiously."

"I agree with you, Shafto," replied Mr Tobin. "The wind has lessened considerably within the last half-hour, and though we may not be able to keep the old ship afloat, there is a better prospect of the boats escaping."

Some time was occupied in getting the boats ready; oars, masts, and sails were put into each; tackles were rove for hoisting them out; but Commander Newcombe was unwilling to give the order to lower them while there seemed a prospect of the ship floating and the sea going down.

The crew were now piped to breakfast, as if nothing particular was occurring. The spirits of all on board were somewhat raised by observing the evident improvement in the weather. The carpenter reported that the water was gaining less rapidly on the pumps, but still it was gaining. Another sail, however, was got up from below, fothered like the last, and passed with ropes under the ship's bottom. It produced a more satisfactory result than the former ones; still, after another hour had passed, the water continued coming in faster than it could be pumped out. The commander and Colonel Morley were seen earnestly consulting together. They were joined by the first-lieutenant.

"The winch of the starboard pump has broken, and the pump is disabled, sir," he said, in as calm a tone as he could assume.

"That settles the question," said the commander. "Colonel, we must do our duty. I see no prospect of keeping the ship afloat much longer. If we delay, she may go down with all on board, and the chance of saving some will be lost."

"I agree with you, captain," said the colonel.

"We need not let the people know this, though," observed Commander Newcombe. "Those who go in the boats may be allowed to suppose that the ship will be kept afloat better without them. Mr Tobin, hoist out the boats at once. The women and children must be divided among them. I have settled who is to go in each. Colonel, you will accompany your wife and daughters."

"I have a higher duty, sir, though I thank you for the offer. I remain with my men," answered Colonel Morley in a firm tone.

"And I remain with you and the ship, sir," said Mr Tobin; "and I believe you will find that most of the other officers desire to do the same."

"I will direct the junior officers of my regiment to draw lots who is to go," said Colonel Morley.

Some little time was occupied in making these and similar arrangements. The three officers then separated, to perform the duties they had undertaken. While the naval officers were superintending the lowering of the boats, an undertaking of great difficulty and risk, Colonel Morley entered the cabin, and having summoned the officers around him, he informed them of the determination which had been arrived at. He spoke in a low, calm voice, so that he might not be overheard by his wife and daughters, or the other ladies. The captains at once declined drawing lots.

"Twopenny is the only married man among us," said Captain Power; "he must accompany his wife."

The lieutenants, when they heard that the colonel intended to remain, at once decided to stay by him and their men. The ensigns, with the exception of poor Holt, who was still in his cabin, were inclined to decide as their superior officers had already done.

"No, my lads," said the colonel, "you are young, and may have many years of life before you. I must insist on your obeying my commands."

The lots were quickly drawn, and Ensign Holt was declared to have the option of going. He had been watching the proceeding with staring eyes and a look of intense anxiety and dread, fully believing, apparently, that he should be among those to remain. The excitement was too much for his nerves. As his name was pronounced, he sank down on the deck without uttering a word. Captain Power kindly raised him up. An almost idiotic expression had come over the young officer's countenance, and he scarcely seemed aware of what was occurring.

"Come, Holt, bestir yourself," said the captain. "Pack up anything you may especially wish to take with you. The boats will soon be shoving off."

The poor young ensign looked wildly about him for a moment, and then hurrying into his cabin, began to pack up a huge portmanteau, tumbling all sorts of articles into it. He was thus engaged when he heard his name called, and, leaving it behind him, rushed on deck. The colonel meantime addressed the officers.

"Gentlemen, we have still our duty to perform," he said. "Desperate as appears our condition, I do not despair; and, at all events, I am confident that none of you will flinch from what requires to be done. Every one will take his turn at the pumps as long as the ship remains above water; and now I will muster the men. Let the roll be beat."

The roll of the drum was directly afterwards heard echoing along the decks, and all the men not employed at the pumps fell in. The married men, with the drummers, were ordered to prepare to go in the boats. The crews of each were then mustered aft, and sentries stationed to prevent any others from entering them.

Now came the most trying moment of all. While the commander was standing on the break of the poop, and issuing his final orders, Harry Shafto, followed by Willy Dicey, came up to him.

"I hope, sir, you will allow me to remain on board," he said; "and though Dicey wishes to prefer the same request, I trust you will refuse it in his case."

"I certainly shall do so," answered the commander, "as I also shall refuse yours. I have decided that you are to take command of the launch. I know you to be an excellent boat sailor, and I can confidently entrust her to your care."

"I thank you heartily, sir," said Harry. "I would most willingly remain with you; but I know my duty."

"Then go into the boat, and be ready to receive the ladies and women who will be sent into her, and take young Dicey with you." He stopped for a moment, then drawing a letter from his breast pocket, he added, "Here, take this despatch also, and preserve it, if possible. It is addressed to the Lords of the Admiralty. I have said what it was my duty to say with regard to the conduct of the officers and ship's company, and the admirable behaviour of the troops. I have recommended also to the consideration of their Lordships my poor old mother and only surviving sister. I trust my country will look after them, as they depend on me for their support; and if I die, it will be in the performance of my duty. I have no other claim than that. I tell you the contents, that you may be able to repeat them to their Lordships should you reach England and the letter be lost."

The commander now called over the names of the officers he had selected to take charge of the boats and of the men who were to form their crews, and they were ordered into them; and to each was allotted the supply of provisions and stores which had been prepared. The cooper had been engaged in filling the few casks which could be found with water out of some of the butts on deck. These were divided among the boats. A compass was placed in each, and a chart, as also a quadrant and other nautical instruments for the launch and each of the cutters; lanterns, candles, and several other stores were not forgotten.

"Fowling-pieces will be of use," observed Captain Power. "Here is mine, Twopenny;" "and mine", "and mine," added the other officers, bringing them up from their cabins. "Don't forget the powder and shot." A supply in tin cases was soon provided.

While the seamen were performing their various duties, the soldiers stood, drawn up along the deck, with their officers, as if on parade. Not a man moved from his post, but all watched the proceedings going forward as if no unusual occurrence was taking place. The sea had by this time so much gone down that the operation of lowering the women and children into the boats was less hazardous than otherwise would have been the case. Mrs Morley and her two daughters were the first to appear on deck. The colonel led them to the gangway, where the boatswain and several of the most active seamen were standing ready to lower them down, under the direction of the first-lieutenant. Whether or not they expected that Colonel Morley would accompany them, it was difficult to say. The only words heard, as Mrs Morley seemed to hesitate for a moment as she was about to be lowered down, were, "We are all under orders. Duty must be our first consideration."

Poor Mrs Twopenny shrieked out for her husband. "He will follow you presently," said the first-lieutenant, hoping to pacify her. "Now, Mrs Rumbelow, you are to go in this boat," he exclaimed. The sergeant's wife hesitated, casting a glance towards her husband.

"We want you to go and look after the ladies," said the colonel. "Come, Mrs Rumbelow, you have never acted contrary to orders, and you will not do so now, I am sure."

Without a word she stepped to the gangway, and with very little assistance reached the boat. A young drummer, with five or six poor women, some having children, were also lowered down.

"Come, Davis, I promised the colonel that you and your medicine chest should go in the launch," said the commander. "I hope you will be able to give a good account of your charges. Come! come! I must be obeyed," he added with a melancholy smile, observing that the surgeon seemed to hesitate. "We can do without your services on board."

Eight hands had been ordered into the boat to serve as her crew, and Willy was very glad to see Paul Lizard among them. The boatswain had been ordered to take charge of the first cutter. Peter Patch went with him, and poor Ensign Holt was lowered into the same boat, looking more helpless and woebegone than any of the women.

The people, however, had not been placed in the boats without considerable difficulty and danger. As soon as the launch had received her complement, she was dropped astern. Here she hung on while the other boats were being loaded, and as those in her watched this proceeding, they dreaded every instant to see them swamped alongside. Some of the people attempted, in their eagerness, to jump in. Several were seen to fall into the water; others were with difficulty caught, and saved from breaking their limbs. The sea, too, which, while the launch was alongside, was comparatively calm, had since then rapidly become more and more agitated, and heavy rollers were seen coming over the ocean towards the ship. As the people were getting into the second cutter, the sea struck her, violently dashing her against the ship's side; while some were attempting to fend her off, she was swamped and upset, the unhappy people in her being cast struggling into the foaming waters. Two seamen only managed to regain the ship.

"Out oars," cried Harry Shafto; and the crew of the launch attempted to pull up, and save some of their drowning shipmates. Before, however, they could get up even to the ship's quarter, nearly all had disappeared, several poor women and children being speedily overwhelmed.

"See! see!" cried Mrs Rumbelow, "there is a little chap striking out towards us; and I do believe he has a baby in his arms. I know him; he is young Broke, a famous swimmer. Oh, Mr Shafto, do save them if you can."

Harry required no urging, nor did the crew. In another instant the young drummer boy was alongside; and the doctor, stooping down, lifted up the baby; but it seemed as if life was extinct. Young Broke was speedily hauled on board. All for the moment seemed to forget their own danger in their anxiety for the young infant; watching anxiously for the report of the doctor, who was seen for a short time gently pressing its stomach and breathing at the time into its mouth. "It lives," he said, "and will, I trust, recover." The little creature had no lack of nurses, for even at that moment of trial all were eager to take it. Young Broke, though nearly exhausted when taken on board, soon recovered; he could not tell what had become of the mother, but he had some idea that she was still on board, having entrusted her child to one of the men before she herself was lowered down.

Harry again dropped the launch astern, in obedience to the orders he had received. The sea coming ahead of the ship, she began to pitch violently; the other boats, to avoid the accident which had happened to the second cutter, kept well clear of her. The commander was standing on the poop, and Colonel Morley by his side.

"Is my husband not coming?" asked Mrs Morley, now appearing for the first time aware that she was to be separated from him.

"The colonel will act as duty prompts him," said Harry.

"Yes, yes; I know he will," said Mrs Morley, gazing towards the ship. "And he considers it is his duty to remain on board," she gasped out as she hid her face in her hands, sobs bursting from her bosom.

Harry, still hoping that, as the weather had been moderating, the ship might be kept afloat, determined to hold on to the last. As he looked ahead, however, he saw the heavy rollers continuing to come in from the north-west, while the sky in that direction looked dark and threatening.

Colonel Morley was observed every now and then to cast an anxious gaze at the boat which contained his wife and daughters. How must he have felt at allowing them to go away without him! It must have been a sore trial to his manly heart at all events. The commander was evidently issuing orders to those who remained with him.

"Oh, Mr Shafto, do they not fear that the ship will sink?" exclaimed Miss Morley. "Surely they will not remain on board."

"They are, I have no doubt, engaged in building rafts," said Harry. "The people will thus have a chance of saving their lives, for the boats could not take all on board."

"But my father, my dear father," exclaimed Miss Morley.

"He will, if possible, remain and try to help those on the rafts," answered Harry. He could say no more, for he was well aware that till every effort had been made to save his men, Colonel Morley would not desert them.

Harry's anxiety increased greatly when he saw the threatening aspect of the weather. The ship had been brought as close to the wind as possible, in order to allow the boats with less risk to lie alongside. A heavy sea now struck her bows; driving her astern, and threatening to bring her down upon the launch. Not a moment was to be lost, Harry saw, or the destruction of the boat and all on board would be inevitable. With a heavy heart he gave the order to cut the warp to which she hung. "Out oars, and pull her head round," he added. The mast had been stepped. "Hoist the fore-staysail," he exclaimed, and the boat's head began paying round. Another heavy foam-topped sea came rolling up with a dark black cloud overhead; he held his breath, for he dreaded lest it should break on board. The men tugged at their oars. They, too, saw the danger. The ladies could not refrain from uttering a cry of dismay. Even Mrs Rumbelow kept her lips firmly set as she eyed the foaming mass. Paul Lizard had the fore-halyards in his hand. Up went the foresail, and as it filled with the gale the boat's head rapidly came round. Away she flew before the wind; the threatening sea roared and hissed under her stern, but failed to overtake her. On she flew, now rising, now falling, amid the tumbling seas. Harry had need to exercise all his seamanship to save her from being overwhelmed; as it was, the seas broke frequently close to her quarters, sending into her heavy masses of foaming water. To attempt to heave to and remain by the ship, as Harry had proposed, would have been madness. Already she had been left far astern. Willy had watched her anxiously. Now she seemed to rise amid the dark waters, now to sink deep down; and more than once Willy thought the "Ranger" had gone for ever. He could scarcely refrain from uttering an expression of horror. There were other eyes besides his in the boat, who were looking towards the ship. Poor Mrs Morley and her two daughters sat with their hands clasped together, not a word escaping their lips; but though they were silent, their hearts were lifted up in prayer, and they seemed to have forgotten the hardships in store for them, and their own danger, while thinking of that to which Colonel Morley was exposed.

Another boat under sail was seen standing in the wake of the launch, supposed to be the first cutter. What had become of the other boats could not be discovered. Very probably, they too had gone down, overwhelmed by the heavy sea from which the larger boats had so narrowly escaped. The dark cloud now burst over the spot where the devoted ship lay, rising and falling amid the dark heaving seas, a dense shower of sleet and rain, like a thick veil, completely shrouding her. Willy strained his sharp eyes, but in vain; the "Ranger" was not to be seen, and he could only just distinguish the white sail of the cutter struggling after them through the tumbling seas.

On, on they flew; a sense of their own danger seemed to have absorbed the thoughts of most on board. Scarcely an observation was made regarding the fate of their companions; even the little baby which had been so wonderfully preserved was for the time neglected, the woman who held it appearing scarcely aware that she had the child in her arms.

"Come, come, Sarah, what are you about?" exclaimed Mrs Rumbelow, "are you going to let that baby drop into the bottom of the boat, and be drowned. You had better give it to me, poor little dear." Thus aroused, the woman once more bestowed her attention on the little stranger. Mrs Morley, overcome by her feelings, had at length given way, and lay in an almost fainting state in her daughter's arms. Her condition had not escaped Mrs Rumbelow's observation. The sergeant's wife leaned forward towards her. She was sitting at no great distance. "Come, rouse up, Mrs Morley, marm," she exclaimed, taking the poor lady's hands, and chafing them with her own somewhat hard palms. "It is God's will, dear lady, that we are here. He'll take care of those we left on board. I, too, would lief have remained with my good-man; but he ordered me to come, and I have always obeyed orders since I entered the army, as I call it, and that's a good score of years ago. When we have done our duty, to my mind, we should be content; and feel sure that all will go right. I don't say what we call right, but what God knows to be right and best; that's it, marm."

Poor Mrs Morley opened her eyes. "Thank you," she faintly said. "You speak kindly. I know all is for the best."

Mrs Twopenny and the other married women in the boat, having their husbands with them, were more inclined to think about themselves than those they had left in the hapless ship. The crew were not idle, for they had plenty to do in bailing the boat and tending the sails. Harry saw the necessity, in order to prevent the boat from being swamped, of carrying as much sail as she could bear; and even then, as he cast his eye astern, he dreaded lest any of the foaming seas which came rolling up might break on board. Could he have kept her head to the seas she might have been safer, but the danger of heaving her to was so great that he dared not attempt it; and, under present circumstances, he judged it more prudent to run before the gale. All he could hope, therefore, was that the wind might moderate again as rapidly as it had risen. His next care was to make some arrangement for the accommodation of the poor women. He called Dr Davis aft, and consulted him about the matter. It was agreed that an awning should be rigged in the centre part of the boat, over an oar a little higher than the gunwale, so as to leave room for the crew to pass on either side; and though this would afford them but a very narrow space, still they would be sheltered from the cold and rain and spray. Fortunately, a spare sail had been thrown into the boat, which would serve for this purpose; there were also several planks and small spars which had not been thrown out of her when she was lowered; and these spread out would serve as a flooring to keep them out of the wet. Among other things was a roll of blankets and several cloaks. These, spread out, would serve for beds. The crew gladly gave up all claim they might have on them for the sake of the poor women.

Several hours passed; and though the wind and sea had slightly gone down, no other change had occurred.

"Now, marm," said Mrs Rumbelow, as soon as the awning was prepared; "we must take possession of our house. It is not a very grand one, but we're thankful to those who built it for us."

"Oh, my husband! my husband!" was the only answer poor Mrs Morley could make.

"I have a husband, too, marm," said Mrs Rumbelow. "The sergeant and I, though old folks, love each other as much as any young folks can do. We have long known that any day, with the chances of war, we might be separated, and by many another chance too, though. I have followed him pretty well round the world, to look after him, and now the time has come which we well knew might come, though I cannot say that I feel it the less on that account. It's hard to bear, Mrs Morley, that it is; but if it's God's will that we are not to see our husbands again, we must submit, marm. Still, you know, marm, it may not be His will to take them from us. He can preserve them if He thinks fit; and if so, we shall meet them again. That's what keeps me up."

"You are right, Mrs Rumbelow," whispered Mrs Morley, as the sergeant's wife knelt by her side within the little tent. "Does any one think that the ship is still afloat?"

"That's more than any one can say, marm. Ships have floated when all on board supposed that they were going down. That must be our hope, marm; and now, Mrs Morley, and you, dear young ladies, take my advice, and try and go to sleep and forget all about it, or you'll wear yourselves out. It's the men's business to look after the boat and us. We must trust to them, and still more to One in heaven, who will take care of us all."

These remarks were made by Mrs Rumbelow as she was endeavouring to place the young ladies and their mother in the most comfortable position she could select in the narrow space allotted to them.

In the meantime, the boat ran on as before amid the raging seas; several had broken partially on board, and four hands were kept continually bailing, to get rid of the water which thus got into her.

"There is another spare sail for'ard," observed Willy Dicey to Harry. "Don't you think we can manage to nail it on round the stern and quarters? I saw some tools put into the boat, and one of the carpenter's mates is with us."

"Your advice is good, and we will follow it," answered Harry: and Willy made his way for'ard to look for the sail. It was soon found; and the carpenter's mate, with the assistance of Paul Lizard and Willy, who prided himself on his skill as a carpenter, quickly sawed out several stanchions. These were at once screwed on so as to raise the gunwale nearly two feet all round the after-part of the boat. Scarcely had the canvas been securely fixed when a heavier sea than ordinary came rolling up, hissing and roaring as if about to overwhelm her. Many gazed at it with dismay. It struck the stern; no small amount of water broke over the counter. The heavier mass, however, was prevented from coming in; and the boat flew on with greater speed, as if to escape from the danger which threatened her.

"Willy, your forethought has saved our lives, I fully believe," observed Harry, as he, with others, began baling away with might and main.

Mrs Rumbelow, who at that instant made her appearance from the cabin, followed their example, having seized a saucepan at her feet. Another and another sea followed.

"Bale away, my lads! bale away!" cried Mrs Rumbelow. "We will try if we cannot send the water out as fast as it comes in."

Her courage inspired the men, who now and then stopped, believing that all their efforts to preserve their lives would prove useless. The boat was quickly again clear of water, and several minutes passed without a sea having struck her. Harry began to hope that once more the gale was abating. He now, remembering that the people might be suffering from want of food, ordered provisions to be served out.

The doctor had spoken but little, except occasionally to offer a word of consolation to some of the poor women. He now, however, undertook to superintend the distribution of the provisions. Some time was occupied in searching for them, as it was necessary to select such as did not require cooking. A keg of butter was first found, with a cask of biscuits, but the latter had suffered already from the salt water. As, however, they could be most easily got at, they were served round, and constituted the chief portion of the first meal taken on board. A few bottles of rum were next routed out from a case amid a number of things hastily thrown in. A small measure full was served out to each person, and injurious as spirits may prove when taken habitually, this small dose served to restore the well-nigh exhausted strength of the men.

Willy was hunting about in hopes of finding something more suitable for poor Mrs Morley and the other ladies. He was delighted to discover some cold fowls, a ham, and a couple of loaves of bread, which the purser had thoughtfully placed in a basket for the very object for which they were now so much-desired.

"Here, Mrs Rumbelow," he said, handing his prize into the cabin. "You must get your charges to eat some of these things."

"Bless you! that I will, Mr Dicey," said the good woman, perfectly ready herself to sup off her biscuit and salt butter. She began at once to persuade the young ladies to eat a portion of the delicacies which she had received. She was at length successful. "And now, marm," she added, "just a thimbleful of rum; it will do you good, I'm sure. I am not in favour of ladies taking to ardent spirits, but, just now, we may be thankful for some to cheer our hearts and keep out the cold."

Night was now coming on, and though the weather had slightly improved, Harry could not but feel that the danger of scudding on in the darkness was greater than in the day-time. As yet he had been unable to alter his course, and steer more to the northward. The boat was still in the latitude where icebergs might be encountered, and at night they might not be seen in time to be avoided, "We must commit ourselves to God's keeping, and do our best," Harry thought to himself. "Surely I ought to ask those with me to join in a prayer for our protection. My friends," he said aloud, "we know not what may happen this night; and I trust all will join in asking God to look after us, and in returning thanks to Him in having preserved us thus far."

"That they will, sir!" exclaimed Mrs Rumbelow; "and I am sure, too, that all will pray heartily that those we left on board the ship may be preserved likewise."

Harry invited Captain Twopenny to act the part of chaplain; but as both he and Dr Davis declined, he felt that he ought to do so himself. Engaged, however, in the arduous task of steering, he could not sufficiently collect his thoughts for the purpose. While still doubting what to do, Mrs Morley appeared from beneath her tent, and in a firm, clear voice offered up a prayer to Him who rules the stormy ocean for their own safety, as also for that of those in the other boat and on board the ship. All joined heartily; and as the noble lady was seen lifting up her eyes towards heaven, with her hands clasped, no one could doubt that she was indeed speaking to Him who hears and answers prayer.

"Now, friends, I am sure that there are many here who can join in a hymn to our merciful Father and Friend," exclaimed Mrs Rumbelow. "The young ladies will lead you, for I have often heard them singing on a Sunday evening, and it has done my heart good to listen."

The Miss Morleys, who had risen with their mother and the other women, without requiring a second invitation gave utterance, with their sweet voices, to that beautiful hymn, which ends—

"O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Be Thou our guard while troubles last, And our eternal home."

Amen was echoed by all.

Their hearts were cheered, their fears calmed, as, amid that dark and raging ocean, those sounds of prayer and praise ascended to Heaven.

Mrs Rumbelow now insisted that those whom she considered under her especial charge should return to their cabin, though she had no little difficulty in stowing them away. The baby had, notwithstanding the cold and wetting it had endured, completely recovered, and still received the attention it required from the young woman who had taken it in charge.

During the day, the other boat's sail had been continually watched with great anxiety. Frequently it could with difficulty be seen amid the foaming seas; now, as the sun went down, though Willy and Paul Lizard strained their eyes to the utmost, they could no longer distinguish it. Still Harry, in the hopes that their small consort was yet afloat, ordered a lantern to be hoisted to their after-mast, that she might be able to follow them during the night. Happily, the night would not last long. A short time after the sun went down the clouds began to clear away. The beautiful Southern Cross shone brilliantly forth; other bright stars appeared, and cheered the voyagers with their calm light. The boat was now kept perfectly free of water, and all, with the exception of the look-out forward, and two or three seamen required to tend the sails, coiled themselves away to sleep. Harry, though growing very weary, would not resign his post at the helm, and Willy Dicey insisted on sitting near him.

"You know, Shafto, I may never have such an opportunity of learning how to steer a boat in such a sea as this," he observed.

"I hope you never may, Willy," said Harry; "but we may thank God, more than my skill, for having been preserved hitherto. We have many a long league to go over before we can reach even the Auckland Islands; and I pray that the weather may continue fine till we get there."

In spite, however, of Willy's resolution he often dropped asleep, though he roused himself up on such occasions, and again spoke to Shafto. Harry himself at times felt that, had he not been standing up, he should have fallen asleep too; and he promised Willy that, should the sea go down, he would in the morning let Paul Lizard relieve him at the helm. How anxiously he longed for daylight, hoping at noon to take an observation and ascertain their exact position. As the sun rose, its bright rays shining on the eyes of several of the sleepers, roused them up. Some at first looked bewildered, as if they had forgotten what had occurred. When they found that the sea had gone down, and the wind decreased to a moderate breeze, a gleam of satisfaction, such as had not before been seen, appeared on their countenances. Harry was at length about to summon Paul Lizard to relieve him at the helm, when Mrs Morley and her daughters came out of their cabin. Their countenances were sad and anxious. The boat was now moving rapidly under all sail over the comparatively smooth ocean. Harry had, as soon as he was able, altered the course to the north-east. Mrs Morley looked around, and then at the compass.

"Oh, Mr Shafto!" she exclaimed, "are you not steering back to the ship? Surely you would not willingly desert those on board!"

It was a trying question to Harry. "I would undoubtedly return, had I the power," he answered; "but my orders were to carry the boat to the nearest land we can make, where food and shelter can be found. Were I to attempt to return, I should disobey those orders. It might take us also three or four days to beat back to the spot where we left the ship, and we might fail to find her after all."

Mrs Morley hid her face in her hands. It seemed as if her last hope had gone.

"Oh, why was I separated from him?" she exclaimed, her feelings overcoming for the moment her better judgment.

"For the sake of your daughters, marm, do cheer up," said Mrs Rumbelow, who at once came to Harry's assistance. "Though you yourself, marm, would go through any fresh dangers to join the colonel, just think how ill able these young ladies are to bear them," she said, in a gentle, soothing tone.

At first Mrs Morley seemed scarcely to understand what was said, but in a short time she recovered herself, her daughters doing their utmost to console her; and Mrs Rumbelow at length persuaded her to return to the shelter of the awning.