CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
A SACRIFICE IN VAIN.
The solitary watcher realised instinctively that this time something waswrong. So, too, did the residue of his fellow-passengers, for in anincredibly short space of time they came swarming up from below invarious stages of dress and undress--mostly the latter--and many andeager were the inquiries heard on every side, and anxiety was depictedon every face; while on others there was a look which spelt downrightscare--these, too, by no means exclusively the property of theornamental sex.
There was some excuse for it; for to find oneself started out of one'ssleep by a jarring shock, to realise that the vessel is no longermoving, to rush up on deck only to find her lying helpless on the blackmidnight sea, the hurried gait and speech of officers and crew, to theaccompaniment of the hoarse roaring of the steam pipes--all this is wellcalculated to try the nerves of the ordinary passenger; to conjure upvisions of collision, or running on a rock, and the swift and suddenfoundering with all hands.
"What is it? Are we ashore? Have we collided?" were some of thequestions uttered on every side, and from the more fearful: "Are wegoing to the bottom?"
"Going to the bottom? Of course not," snapped the chief officer, whohad come up in time to catch this last query. "There's no cause foralarm. The propeller shaft has snapped, and we shall have to lie to andsignal for assistance. Soon get it too; we're in the line of steamers.Look! here goes the first."
The sharp hiss of a rocket rent the air as the fiery streak shot up highinto the heavens, exploding with a reverberating boom. It was followedimmediately by another.
"I came to tell you," he went on, "that the captain's orders are thatall the passengers go below. Wine and refreshments will be served inthe saloon immediately."
"Then we _are_ going to the bottom," pronounced one fool. Upon him the"chief" turned.
"Grub would be a rum sort of preparation for that, wouldn't it?" he saidscathingly. And there was a laugh, though, truth to tell, somewhat of ahollow one.
In the saloon the grateful popping of corks was already audible, and onthe tables the stewards were setting out bottles of champagne andglasses, while others were bringing in the materials for a cold supper.When well through this the ship's surgeon announced that those who werenot dressed had better get into all their clothing, and also collect anyvaluables they might possess, but that absolutely no luggage of any kindwould be allowed. At the sound of the bugle all were to repair on deck.No; there was no occasion for panic of any kind. Ample time would beafforded--"only, of course, they mustn't make it till next week,"appended the doctor, by way of raising a laugh.
"That means the boats," pronounced one man decidedly.
"Well, I'm for another go of `the boy,'" reaching over for the nearestchampagne bottle. "It may be long enough before we get another lookin."
"It's all that damned derelict," said another. "I'm not superstitious,but I wish to the Lord we'd never sighted her. I said so thisafternoon."
"This afternoon? Why, it hasn't come yet," retorted the first. "Man,you might as well have said to-morrow."
Again there was a laugh--not much of a one--but the more they couldlaugh the better.
"Mr Wagram, I am dreadfully frightened," said Mrs Colville, to whosewants he had been attending. "Is there really much danger, do youthink?"
"No. There's plenty of boat room--that's where we score off theovercrowded mail steamer. Why, it'll be quite an adventure to look backupon after we are picked up. Now, I think you had better collectwhatever you may want to take--valuables, papers, anything of that kind.And, it's time to dress the child."
"Oh, that won't take a minute. I've let her sleep as long as possible.For the rest, I've hardly anything worth collecting. But you? Youhaven't been to bed, have you?"
"No; I was doing my usual midnight tramp on deck when the smash came.Like yourself, I've nothing much to collect either."
She stole a look at him, and it was one of admiration--evoked not onlyby the tall, straight form and dark, refined, pensive face. Hisconsummate coolness under the stress was what appealed to her now. Notone among the others but had shown some slight sign of flurry, or at anyrate excitement beyond the ordinary. This one had not. Had they beenplanning a trip on shore at some port of call his tone and demeanourcould hardly have been more even, more thoroughly composed.
"Are you a fatalist, Mr Wagram?" she said. "You treat all this as amatter of course."
"I am no sort of `ist,'" he answered, with a smile. "Well--what?"
"Great heavens! I was forgetting," she said. "We won't be able to landanywhere. The captain told me if we were to go ashore anywhere off herewe'd very likely be eaten--by savages. He was telling me only thisafternoon. Good heavens! what is to become of us?"
"The quarter you have just invoked twice will take care of that--neverfear. Now go and waken Lily. I'll wait for you here."
Hardly had she left him than the bugle rang out. Its notes, almost likethe trump of doom to some of the more frightened, came pealing down thecompanion-way, and immediately the saloon was filled with a scufflingcrowd making for the upper air. Now more distant, in different quartersof the ship, its blast sounded again and again. Still Wagram satmotionless in his chair.
"Hallo! ain't you going up?" cried one of the last, thus seeing him."Man, but the bugle's gone again and again."
"I know it has," said Wagram calmly, finishing off his glass; "I'mwaiting for Mrs Colville."
The other went his way without another word. Wagram, thinking it abouttime to hurry up his _protege_, started in the direction of her cabin,and as he did so a pealing shriek of utter and complete despair broughthis pulses to a momentary standstill.
The while, on deck, the more or less scared passengers were quicklylined up in rows--the women and children apart. They, for their part,noticed two things: that the surface of the sea was much nearer than ithad been the last time they had stood here--in fact, appallingly near;and that beside each boat stood its crew, just as they had seen them atordinary Saturday afternoon fire drill. A thick, sickly murk hadsettled overhead, shutting out the stars--and by the glare of thelanterns it might be seen that the ship was very low down in the sternindeed. The roaring of the steam had now ceased, and the great funnelstowered above, white and ghostly. And now what had actually happenedbegan to be whispered around. The propeller rod had snapped, and insnapping had fallen through the keel, ripping away plates, and tearingopen a tremendous leak, through which the water had rushed with alarmingrapidity. Then it was found that the watertight bulkheads were of nouse. The doors had somehow got jammed, and would not close. During allthe time that the coolness and forethought of the captain and officershad utilised by sending the passengers below for some final refreshmentthe ship had been slowly settling.
The expedient had been a good one. To that degree invigorated, thepassengers, lined up there, were less susceptible to panic, and the workof loading the boats and lowering went on with clockwork regularity andorder.
That shriek had the effect upon Wagram of the lash on a racehorse. Hesprang in the direction whence it proceeded. Mrs Colville's cabin wasat the end of a long passage out of which other cabins opened, and nowhe found her standing in the doorway of hers with an awful look upon herashy face.
"Lily. My little one. She's gone!" she screamed at sight of him.
"Gone?"
"Yes. She isn't here. Oh, God! Oh, God! Where is she?"
"Keep cool. We'll find her," urged Wagram. "She may be on deck. Go upthere and see. I'll search here meanwhile."
But the frantic woman refused. She dashed into each cabin along thepassage, searching everywhere, screaming aloud the little one's name.
"Go up--go up," repeated Wagram. "I'll bring her to you if she's below,but she can't be."
The noise above--the trampling and the hauling--increased. The loweringof the boats had already begun.
"I won't," she screamed. "Oh, my Lily--my l
ittle one! Where are you?Oh, God--where are you?"
She turned to dash along the passage. As she did so the ship gave asudden lurch, flinging open a cabin door with some violence. It came infull contact with the forehead of the frenzied woman, and sent herstunned into Wagram's arms.
"Better so," he said to himself as he lifted her.
The last boat was lowered and ready--in the settling state of the ship,not far below her taffrail. As she lay alongside a man rushed up fromthe companion-way bearing a limp, unconscious figure.
"It's Mrs Colville," said Wagram quickly as he handed over his burden."Her child's lost below; I'm going to look for it."
"Into the boat with you, sir," ordered the captain decisively. "Not amoment to lose."
But Wagram's answer was to make a dart for the companion-way. Hedisappeared within it.
"Shove off!" cried the captain. "I'm not going to sacrifice a lot oflives for that of one splendid fool. Shove off!"
"Ay, ay, sir." And at the words, with sudden and cat-like rapidity, twoof the boat's crew sprang upon the captain, who was standing at therail, and in a trice he was tumbled into the boat, and still securelyheld while quick, long pulling strokes increased her distance from thesinking ship.
"No, you don't, sir," said the men, restraining with difficulty theircommander's furious struggles. "The old hooker can go down without youfor once. Get back to her? No, you don't. For shame, sir. You've gota missis and kiddies waiting at Southampton, remember."
The captain fumed and swore, and called them every kind of damnedmutineer, and worse--in fact, a great deal worse--so much worse thatthey had to remind him respectfully that the boats containing the womenand children must be within easy earshot. Why should he go down withhis ship, they pointed out to him, instead of remaining above water tocommand another? Not the last man to leave her did he say? Well, thatcouldn't be helped--if a passenger were such a lunatic as to go belowjust as she was taking her last plunge.
There was no bombast about Captain Lawes' intention. While there was aman on board he would not have left her, and in this case he would nothave, even though that man, being a passenger, had ignored hisauthority. But his crew had taken the matter into their own hands.
The steamy sea murk was thickening, and came rolling in from seaward indamp, hot miasmatic puffs. But the settling hull of the _Baleka_ wasstill discernible with tolerable plainness. To her many a hail was sent_but--front_ her, to their straining ears, none was returned.
"I think, sir," said young Ransome, the fourth officer, slyly, "that Ididn't quite deserve all you--well, all I got for saying that infernal_Red Derelict_ was unlucky to sight."
"You damned, impudent, mutinous young dog!" growled the exasperated andcaptive skipper. "Shut your blasted head. As it is, I'll log you formutiny and insubordination and general incompetence. I'll bust you, outof this service at any rate. See if I don't, my man."
The fourth grinned to himself, and said nothing. He was not greatlyconcerned. He knew his skipper well enough, you see.
"She's goin'! There she goes!" sang out one of the men.
All eyes were bent on the ship. Her row of lights gave a great heaveup, then rapidly disappeared. A heavy, booming cavernous plunge, andthen a great volume of white water shot upward in the dimness.
The _Baleka_ had disappeared; but the lives of those on board her weresaved so far--all but one.
All but one, we repeat, for the other life which that one had beensacrificed to save was safe too, for at that moment the missing childwas being transferred from the boat into which it had been handed in thescurry to the one which contained its still unconscious mother.
The Red Derelict Page 27
