“What’s going to happen?” asked Paddy. “People don’t seem to like this fun.”
“We shall have to swim for it, I suspect,” remarked Jack.
“We must be prepared for the worst,” observed Alick Murray. “Rogers, Adair, has it ever struck you that we may be summoned at any moment to stand in the presence of the Judge of all men? What shall we have to say for ourselves? The thought should not make us cowards, but we should not drive it away—I know that.”
While Murray was speaking there was a terrific report. The foresail was blown out of the bolt-ropes. At the same moment a more than usually bright flash of lightning, which darted across the whole northern sky, revealed the frowning rocks of the coast under their lee. “Prepare to anchor ship!” cried the captain. It was a last resource. The remaining canvas was furled. The best bower was let go; the topmasts were struck; and it was hoped that the ship might hold on till the gale abated. No one went below. This work performed, all hands returned to their stations. Once more the gale came down on them with increased fury. The ship plunged into the foaming seas which rolled up around her. The best bower parted. Another anchor was let go, and the full length of the cable veered out. An hour more passed by in anxious suspense; Death, in its most ferocious aspect, threatening all on board. The cable parted. The sheet anchor was let go, and alone now kept the brig from destruction. Still the gale did not abate. The night wore on. The officers forward reported that the ship was dragging the anchor—her last hope of safety.
“It must be done,” said the captain with a sigh, to the first lieutenant. “Order the carpenter to cut away the fore-mast.”
The carpenter and his crew were prepared for what they had suspected was inevitable. Their axes gleamed as the lightning flashed vividly around them. The crew stood by to cut away the rigging with axes and knives. Down came the mast with a crash to port, and floated quickly by towards the shore. The next few minutes were passed with intense anxiety by everyone on board.
“Does she hold on, Mr Gale?” the captain asked of the first lieutenant.
“She still drags, sir,” was the ominous reply.
“The other masts must go,” cried the captain.
The order was quickly executed. The mainmast fell to starboard, followed by the mizen-mast, and the late gallant-looking ship floated a dismantled hulk amid the foaming waves. But the sacrifice was in vain; scarcely had the masts gone than the last cable parted, and the gallant ship drifted onwards towards the threatening shore. Still Captain Hartland was not a man to yield while a possibility remained of saving his ship and the lives of those entrusted to him. The corvette carried aft two heavy guns for throwing shells. Some spare hempen cables were got up from below, and made fast to them; when hove overboard they checked her way. Daylight at length came, and revealed her terrific position. High cliffs and dark, rugged, wild rocks, over which the sea broke in masses of foam, appeared on every side. Pale and anxious the crew stood at their stations. The wind roared; the cold was bitter. A startling terror-inspiring cry was heard. “The last cable has parted!” The three midshipmen shook hands; they believed that they were soon to be separated, never to meet again in this world. On—on, with heavy plunges amid the foaming waters, the doomed ship hurried to meet her fate.
* * *
* * *
Chapter Three.
Onward drove the sloop of war with the three midshipmen on board to certain destruction. “Heave the guns overboard!” cried Captain Hartland, on the that the last cable had parted. Severe indeed was the pang it caused him to give the order. As the ship rolled, first the starboard, and then the guns on the other side, were cut loose and allowed to run through the ports. With sullen plunges they disappeared in the foaming seas.
“There go all our teeth,” cried Paddy Adair, who even at that awful moment could not refrain from a joke. Even Murray smiled.
“I wish that I were like you, Paddy,” said Jack; “I couldn’t have said that sort of thing just now.”
“Well, but I’m sure that I can’t help feeling as if every tooth in my mouth had been hauled out with a huge wrench,” observed Adair. “There! there goes the last.”
“We must lighten the ship aft as much as possible, Mr Gale, and make sail on the stump of the fore-mast, so as to force her up on the beach,” observed the captain. “If we can find the beach,” he added in a lower voice.
These orders were promptly obeyed. Every man worked with a will. There was no hurry, no confusion, though all were engaged in the most active exertion. No one seemed to be conscious, while thus at work, that in a few short minutes their fate might be sealed. Meantime, sail being set forward, while the ship headed on towards the shore, Captain Hartland and the master were engaged in looking out, in the hopes of discovering some sandy beach between the rocks, on which they might run the ship. Still they scarcely expected to find what they were seeking for; yet no one on board would have guessed from their looks what very slight hopes they entertained of success. The work was done; the ship hurried through the raging surf. Still the most perfect discipline prevailed; not a man quitted his station. Here and there a few might be seen loosing their shoe ties, or getting ready to cast off their flushing coats; but no other sign was observable that an awful struggle for life and death was about to commence.
“Where are we driving to, Jack?” asked Adair; “I cannot make out through all this spray.”
“I thought I got a glimpse of a white patch not much bigger than my hand when we were at the top of the last sea,” answered Rogers. “I hope it may be sand.”
“Starboard, starboard!” shouted the captain. Three hands were at the helm. The spokes flew quickly round. A little sandy bay appeared; it seemed under the ship’s bowsprit; then she was enveloped in a thick cloud of foam; the terrific roar of the surf became deafening. On flew the corvette; a concussion which sent all, who had not a secure hold, flat on the deck, was felt, and the seas came rolling up with tremendous force, heaving her broadside to the beach, and about twenty fathoms from it. Still they did not at first break completely over her; a rock, inside of which she had been judiciously steering, somewhat broke their force. “We are ashore—we are ashore!” was the cry, but still every man waited for the captain’s orders. He stood calm and collected, with his officers round him. His glass was in his hand; he was constantly looking through it, watching the shore.
“Some people are collecting on the heights, and will soon be down on the beach,” he exclaimed. “Hold on till they come, my lads, and we may be able to send a line on shore.” This exhortation was not unnecessary, for the seas rolling in constantly struck the vessel with such terrific force, that it appeared she could not possibly hold together, while two or three men, who had incautiously relaxed their hold, were washed overboard and drowned. A barricoe or small cask was in the meantime got ready, with a line secured to it. The most important object was to form a communication with the shore. It was evident that if a hawser could once be carried between the ship and the beach, the crew might be dragged along it and be saved. As soon as the people began to collect on the beach the cask with the line attached to it was hove overboard. All watched its progress with intense anxiety, for all felt that no time was to be lost in getting the hawser on shore. The cask neared the shore, then the wave rolled on, but again coming thundering down the beach, carried it back almost as far as the ship. Again and again the attempt was made, and each time the cask, almost getting within the grasp of the people on shore, was hurled back once more out of their reach.
“I think, sir, I could manage to put the jolly boat on shore, if you will allow me,” said Mr Wenham, the second lieutenant, addressing the captain.
“The risk is very great, Wenham,” said the captain, shaking him by the hand; “but go if you think fit.”
“Volunteers for the jolly boat!” sung out the second lieutenant. Several men sprang forward; he selected four. The boat was launched into the raging sea, and they leaped into her, carrying a line. With a cheer from their shipmates they shoved off. Rapidly the boat approached the beach, borne onward with a huge wave. Intense was the anxiety of all who watched her. She reached the spot where the sea curled backward in a mass of raging foam. Down it came upon her. A cry was heard uttered by the Greeks on shore, as well as by the seamen on board. Over went the boat, and all her hapless crew were engulfed. Rolled over and over among the seaweed and masses of the tangled rigging and pieces of the wreck, they struggled in vain to gain the shore. One after the other they were swept out to sea and lost. It was evident that none of the other boats would serve to carry the line on shore. Again the experiment was tried with a cask, but failed.
“I say, Murray—Adair,” exclaimed Jack earnestly, “do you know, I think that I could do it. I was always a first-rate swimmer, you know, for my size. I’ll ask the captain’s leave to try.”
“No one in the berth is better able to do it than you are,” replied both his companions.
“O, Jack, I wish I could go with you,” cried Murray, as he wrung his hand.
“So do I,” added Adair; “but I know that I could never swim through that surf.”
No time was to be lost, so Jack Rogers worked his way up to Captain Hartland, and offered to swim on shore with the line. The captain looked very much astonished, and replied that he thought the risk was too great.
“Do let me try, sir,” urged Jack. “I’m like a fish in the water, I am indeed, sir; and if I don’t reach the beach I can but be hauled back again, you know. I’ve a notion that I could swim through all that foam. I’ve done something like it before now.”
“You are a brave fellow, Rogers,” exclaimed Captain Hartland; “I will not prevent you.” Jack, delighted, began to throw off his clothes, which he handed to Adair and Murray, to prepare for his swim.
“Mr Gale, tend the line carefully, and haul him in if he seems distressed,” said the captain to the first lieutenant. Jack had a belt secured round his body, so that it could not slip off or cut him, and he had the line made fast to it. Watching his opportunity as a wave rolled in, he boldly sprang out on the top of it, and was borne onwards towards the shore with little or no exertion to himself. He wisely reserved all his strength for the last struggle at the end of the trip. Everyone watched him with intense interest. Not a word was spoken, but a hundred hands were eagerly held out to him from the shore, to show him the welcome he would receive on landing. Some of the strongest men among the Greeks joined hands and formed a line into the sea, that the outer man might clutch the bold young swimmer if he could get within his reach. Meantime a boat’s oar and some line had been cast on shore. Some of the Greeks, more thoughtful than the rest, had secured the oar to the line, and stood ready to let it float out as Jack approached. He saw the aid prepared, and made towards it. He waited outside the place where the sea which took him in broke into foam, and then, when another sea rolled in, exerting all his strength, he dashed forward; but in spite of all his efforts, the undertow was carrying him out again; still he bravely struggled on. He saw the men on shore holding out their hands to him; could he but make head for a distance of two or three more fathoms he would succeed. Another sea rolled in. “Hurra! hurra!” resounded from all sides; “he has grasped the oar.” He was almost exhausted, still he clutched it with all his might. Cautiously they drew him onward. He could not have held on many moments longer, but the men who had formed the chain into the water seized him by the arm, and he and the end of the line he had so gallantly conveyed through the raging surf were carried up in safety on the beach. Murray and Adair had watched his progress with an interest such as none but true old friends can feel. Tears of gratitude sprang into Murray’s eyes, and his heart bounded with joy as he saw that Jack was in safety. Adair did not feel less satisfaction, but he expressed it differently, by joining heartily in the shout given by the rest of the ship’s company. A hawser was immediately attached to the line, by which it was drawn on shore, and one end being made fast round the stump of the fore-mast over the topgallant forecastle, the other was secured round the rocks. A traveller with a line and slings being now fitted to the hawser, the men were told off to be conveyed on shore, the boys and those of lowest rating being, as is customary, sent first. The traveller being hauled backwards and forwards, one after the other the men were conveyed to the beach. The operation, however, was a slow one, and not without danger, as part of the hawser was completely at times submerged by the breakers. Meantime the sea had made a breach over the after-part of the ship, carrying away portions of the bulwarks. A piece of the planking, as it washed by, struck Adair on the leg, and knocking him down, the sea would have swept him overboard had not Murray seized him by the arm, when, Mr Gale coming to his assistance, they carried him forward. He was too much hurt to move, and they were afraid his leg was broken. Murray sat with him on the deck, holding on by a ring-bolt and supporting him in his lap. Notwithstanding the accident, they both of them had held fast to Jack’s clothes. What was their surprise not ten minutes afterwards to see Jack himself make his appearance on board.
“Why, Rogers!—why have you come back, my dear lad?” exclaimed Captain Hartland.
“To look after my clothes, sir,” answered Jack; “and besides, sir, I didn’t like to be going on shore out of my turn; none of the officers have gone yet.” The captain must have been puzzled what reply to make to this reason, for he said nothing. Night was now coming on; still many people remained on board.
“Come, bear a hand, my hearties; let us be getting on shore out of this,” cried some of those left on board to their shipmates. All who had gone before had been landed safely, but it was necessary to be very careful during the transit in keeping a tight hold of the slings, especially in passing through the surf. One man, a fine young topman, grasped hold of the traveller, and with a wave of his hat gave the sign to haul away. He went on well for a few seconds, apparently thinking it a good joke, till a roller overtook him. In an instant the poor fellow was torn from his hold, and the raging waters rushing down again carried him far away beyond human help.
“Now, Murray, it is your turn,” said Mr Gale; “we will see by and by how we can get Adair on shore.”
“No, sir, thank you,” said Murray calmly; “I would rather stay by Adair. If he cannot be landed now, he will require someone to look after him.”
“Go, Alick, go,” said Adair faintly. “Don’t mind me.”
