CHAPTER VI.
THE DWELLER IN THE SUNKEN SHIP.
After a moment of horror Brandon walked away for a short distance, andthen turning he looked fixedly at the wreck for a long time.
Could this be indeed _the_ ship--_the Vishnu_? By what marvelouscoincidence had he thus fallen upon it? It was in 1828 that the _Vishnu_sailed from Calcutta for Manilla. Was it possible for this vessel to bepreserved so long? And if so, how did it get here?
Yet why not? As to its preservation that was no matter in itself forwonder. East Indian vessels are sometimes built of mahogany, or otherwoods which last for immense periods. Any wood might endure for eighteenyears if covered up by sand. Besides, this vessel he recollected hadbeen laden with staves and box shooks, with other wooden materials whichwould keep it afloat. It might have drifted about these seas till thecurrents bore it here. After all it was not so wonderful that thisshould be the _Vishnu_ of Colonel Despard.
The true marvel was that he himself should have been cast ashore here onthe same place where this ship was.
He stood for a long time not caring to enter. His strength had beenworn down by the privations of his island life; his nerves, usually likesteel, were becoming unstrung; his mind had fallen into a morbid state,and was a prey to a thousand strange fancies. The closed doors ofthe cabin stood there before him, and he began to imagine that somefrightful spectacle was concealed within.
Perhaps he would find some traces of that tragedy of which he had heard.Since the ship had come here, and he had been cast ashore to meet it,there was nothing which he might not anticipate.
A strange horror came over him as he looked at the cabin. But he was notthe man to yield to idle fancies. Taking a long breath he walkedacross the island, and then back again. By that time he had completelyrecovered, and the only feeling now remaining was one of intensecuriosity.
This time he went up without hesitation, and climbed on board thevessel. The sand was heaped up astern, the masts gone, and the hatchwaystorn off, as has been said. The wind which had blown the sand away hadswept the decks as clean as though they had been holy-stoned. Not a ropeor a spar or any movable of any kind could be seen.
He walked aft. He tried the cabin door; it was wedged fast as thoughpart of the front. Finding it immovable he stepped back and kicked at itvigorously. A few sturdy kicks started the panel. It gradually yieldedand sank in. Then the other panel followed. He could now look in andsee that the sand lay inside to the depth of a foot. As yet, however, hecould not enter. There was nothing else to do except to kick at ittill it was all knocked away, and this after some patient labor wasaccomplished.
He entered. The cabin was about twelve feet square, lighted bydead-lights in the deck above. On each side were two state-roomsprobably intended for the ship's officers. The doors were all open. Thesand had drifted in here and covered the floor and the berths. The floorof the cabin was covered with sand to the depth of a foot. There wasno large opening through which it could enter: but it had probablypenetrated through the cracks of the doorway in a fine, impalpable dust,and had covered every available surface within.
In the centre of the cabin was a table, secured to the floor, as ships'tables always are; and immediately over it hung the barometer which wasnow all corroded and covered with mould and rust. A half dozen stoolswere around, some lying on their sides, some upside down, and onestanding upright. The door by which he had entered was at one side, onthe other side was another, and between the two stood a sofa, the shapeof which was plainly discernible under the sand. Over this was a clock,which had ticked its last tick.
On some racks over the closet there were a few guns and swords,intended, perhaps, for the defensive armament of the brig, but all inthe last stage of rust and of decay. Brandon took one or two down, butthey broke with their own weight.
The sand seemed to have drifted more deeply into the state-rooms, forwhile its depth in the cabin was only a foot, in these the depth wasnearly two feet. Some of the bedding projected from the berths, but itwas a mass of mould and crumbled at the touch.
Brandon went into each of these rooms in succession, and brushed outthe heavy, wet sand from the berths. The rotten quilts and blankets fellwith the sand in matted masses to the floor. In each room was a seaman'schest. Two of these were covered deeply; the other two but lightly:the latter were unlocked, and he opened the lids. Only some old clothesappeared, however, and these in the same stage of decay as every thingelse. In one of them was a book, or rather what had once been a book,but now the leaves were all stuck together, and formed one lump of slimeand mould. In spite of his most careful search he had thus far foundnothing whatever which could be of the slightest benefit to him in hissolitude and necessity.
There were still two rooms which he had not yet examined. These were atthe end of the cabin, at the stern of the ship, each taking up one halfof the width. The sand had drifted in here to about the same depth as inthe side-rooms. He entered first the one nearest him, which was on theright side of the ship. This room was about ten feet long, extendingfrom the middle of the ship to the side, and about six feet wide. Atelescope was the first thing which attracted his attention. It lay in arack near the doorway. He took it down, but it fell apart at once, beingcompletely corroded. In the middle of the room there was a compass,which hung from the ceiling. But the iron pivot had rusted, and theplate had fallen down. Some more guns and swords were here, but allrusted like the others. There was a table at the wall by the stern,covered with sand. An arm-chair stood close by it, and opposite thiswas a couch. At the end of this room was a berth which had the sameappearance as the other berths in the other rooms. The quilts andmattresses as he felt them beneath the damp sand were equally decayed.Too long had the ship been exposed to the ravages of time, and Brandonsaw that to seek for any thing here which could be of the slightestservice to himself was in the highest degree useless.
This last room seemed to him as though it might have been the captain's.That captain was Cigole, the very man who had flung him overboard. Hehad unconsciously by so doing sent him to the scene of his early crime.Was this visit to be all in vain? Thus far it seemed so. But might therenot yet be something beneath this sand which might satisfy him in hissearch?
There still remained another room. Might there not be something there?
Brandon went back into the cabin and stood looking at the open doorwayof that other room.
He hesitated. Why? Perhaps it was the thought that here was his lastchance, that here his exploration must end, and if nothing came of itthen all this adventure would be in vain. Then the fantastic hopes andfears which by turns had agitated him would prove to have been absurd,and he, instead of being sent by Fate as the minister of vengeance,would be only the commonplace victim of an everyday accident.
Perhaps it was some instinct within him that made known to his mind whatawaited him there. For now as he stood that old horror came upon himfull and strong. Weakness and excitement made his heart beat and hisears ring. Now his fancy became wild, and he recalled with painfulvividness his father's words:
"In the crisis of your fate I will be near."
The horrors of the past night recurred. The air of the cabin was closeand suffocating. There seemed in that dark room before him some dreadPresence, he knew not what; some Being, who had uncovered this his abodeand enticed him here.
He found himself rapidly falling into that state in which he would nothave been able either to advance or retreat. One overmastering horrorseized him. Twice his spirit sought to overcome the faintness andweakness of the flesh. Twice he stepped resolutely forward; but eachtime he faltered and recoiled.
Here was no place for him to summon up his strength. He could bear itno longer. He turned abruptly and rushed out from the damp, gloomy placeinto the warm, bright sunshine and the free air of heaven.
The air was bright, the wind blew fresh. He drank in great draughts ofthat delicious breeze, and the salt sea seemed to be inhaled at eachbreath.
The sun s
hone brilliantly. The sea rolled afar and all around, andsparkled before him under the sun's rays with that infinite laughter,that [Greek: anaerithmon gelasma] of which Aeschylus spoke in his deeplove of the salt sea. Speaking parenthetically, it may be said thatthe only ones from among articulate speaking men who have found fittingepithets for the sea are the old Greek, the Scandinavian, and theEnglishman.
Brandon drew in new strength and life with every breath, till at last hebegan to think once more of returning.
But even yet he feared that when he entered that cabin the spell wouldbe on him. The thought of attempting it was intolerable. Yet what wasto be done? To remain unsatisfied was equally intolerable. To go back tohis rock was not to be thought of.
But an effort must be made to get rid of this womanly fear; why shouldhe yield to this? Surely there were other thoughts which he might callto his mind. There came over him the memory of that villain who had casthim here, who now was exulting in his fancied success and bearing backto his master the news. There came to him the thought of his father,and his wrongs, and his woe. There came to his memory his father's dyingwords summoning him to vengeance. There came to him the thought of thosewho yet lived and suffered in England, at the mercy of a pitiless enemy.Should he falter at a superstitious fancy, he--who, if he lived, had sogreat a purpose?
All superstitious fancy faded away. The thirst for revenge, the sense ofintolerable wrong arose. Fear and horror died out utterly, destroyed byVengeance.
"The Presence, then, is my ally," he murmured. "I will go and face It."
And he walked resolutely, with a firm step, back into the cabin.
Yet even then it needed all the new-born resolution which he hadsummoned up, and all the thought of his wrong, to sustain him as heentered that inner room. Even then a sharp thrill passed through him,and bodily weakness could only be sustained by the strong, resolute,stubborn soul.
"THERE SEEMED A GHASTLY COMICALITY IN SUCH A THING ASTHIS," ETC.]
The room was about the size of the captain's. There was a table againstthe side, which looked like a leaf which could hang down in case ofnecessity. A trunk stood opposite the door, with the open lid projectingupward out of a mass of sand. Upon the wall there hung the collar of acoat and part of the shoulders, the rest having apparently fallen awayfrom decay. The color of the coat could still be distinguished; it wasred, and the epaulets showed that it had belonged to a British officer.
Brandon on entering took in all these details at a glance, and then hiseyes were drawn to the berth at the end of the room, where that Thinglay whose presence he had felt and feared, and which he knew by aninternal conviction must be here.
There It awaited him, on the berth. Sand had covered it, like acoverlet, up to the neck, while beyond that protruded the head. It wasturned toward him: a bony, skeleton head, whose hollow cavities seemednot altogether vacancy but rather dark eyes which looked gloomily athim--dark eyes fixed, motionless; which had been thus fixed through thelong years, watching wistfully for him, expecting his entrance throughthat doorway. And this was the Being who had assisted him to the shore,and who had thrown off the covering of sand with which he had concealedhimself, so as to bring him here before him. Brandon stood motionless,mute. The face was turned toward him--that face which is at once humanand yet most frightful since it is the face of Death--the face of askeleton. The jaws had fallen apart, and that fearful grin which isfixed on the fleshless face here seemed like an effort at a smile ofwelcome.
The hair still clung to that head, and hung down over the fleshlessforehead, giving it more the appearance of Death in life, and lending anew horror to that which already pervaded this Dweller in the Ship.
"The nightmare Life-in-Death was he, That thicks men's blood with cold."
Brandon stood while his blood ran chill, and his breath came fast.
If that Form had suddenly thrown off its sandy coverlet and risen tohis feet, and advanced with extended hand to meet him, he would not havebeen surprised, nor would he have been one whit more horror-stricken.
Brandon stood fixed. He could not move. He was like one in a nightmare.His limbs seemed rigid. A spell was upon him. His eyes seemed to fastenthemselves on the hollow cavities of the Form before him. But under thattremendous pressure he did not altogether sink. Slowly his spirit rose;a thought of flight came, but it was instantly rejected. The next momenthe drew a long breath. "I'm an infernal fool and coward," he muttered.He took three steps forward, and stood beside the Figure. He laid hishand firmly upon the head; the hair fell off at his touch. "Poor devil,"said he, "I'll bury your bones at any rate." The spell was broken, andBrandon was himself again.
Once more Brandon walked out into the open air, but this time there wasnot a vestige of horror left. He had encountered what he dreaded, andit was now in his eyes only a mass of bones. Yet there was much to thinkof, and the struggle which had raged within him had exhausted him.
The sea-breeze played about him and soon restored his strength. Whatnext to do was the question, and after some deliberation he decided atonce to remove the skeleton and bury it.
A flat board which had served as a shelf supplied him with an easy wayof turning up the sand. Occupation was pleasant, and in an hour or twohe had scooped out a place large enough for the purpose which he had inview. He then went back into the inner cabin.
Taking his board he removed carefully the sand which had covered theskeleton. The clothes came away with it. As he moved his board along itstruck something hard. He could not see in that dim light what it was,so he reached down his hand and grasped it.
It was something which the fingers of the skeleton also encircled, forhis own hand as he grasped it touched those fingers. Drawing it forth heperceived that it was a common junk bottle tightly corked.
There seemed a ghastly comicality in such a thing as this, that thislately dreaded Being should be nothing more than a common skeleton, andthat he should be discovered in this bed of horror doing nothing moredignified than clutching a junk bottle like a sleeping drunkard. Brandonsmiled faintly at the idea; and then thinking that, if the liquor weregood, it at least would be welcome to him in his present situation. Hewalked out upon the deck, intending to open it and test its contents.So he sat down, and, taking his knife, he pushed the cork in. Then hesmelled the supposed liquor to see what it might be. There was only amusty odor. He looked in. The bottle appeared to be filled with paper.Then the whole truth flashed upon his mind. He struck the bottle uponthe deck. It broke to atoms, and there lay a scroll of paper coveredwith writing.
He seized it eagerly, and was about opening it to read what was writtenwhen he noticed something else that also had fallen from the bottle.
It was a cord about two yards in length, made of the entrail of someanimal, and still as strong and as flexible as when it was first made.He took it up carefully, wondering why such a thing as this should havebeen so carefully sealed up and preserved when so many other things hadbeen neglected.
The cord, on a close examination, presented nothing very remarkableexcept the fact that, though very thin, it appeared to have been nottwisted but plaited in a very peculiar manner out of many fine strands.The intention had evidently been to give to it the utmost possiblestrength together with the smallest size. Brandon had heard of cordsused by Malays and Hindus for assassination, and this seemed like thedescription which he had read of them.
At one end of the cord was a piece of bronze about the size of a commonmarble, to which the cord was attached by a most peculiar knot. Thebronze itself was intended to represent the head of some Hindu idol, thegrotesque ferocity of its features, and the hideous grimace of the mouthbeing exactly like what one may see in the images of Mother Kali orBowhani.
At once the cord associated itself in his mind with the horrors which hehad heard of as having been perpetrated in the names of these frightfuldeities, and it seemed now to be more than a common one. He carefullywound it up, placed it in his pocket, and prepared to examine themanuscript.
&n
bsp; The sun was high in the heavens, the sea-breeze still blew freshly,while Brandon, opening the manuscript, began to read.
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