Sweetapple Cove

by George Van Schaick

  CHAPTER XIX

  _Dr. Frank Johnson to Mrs. Charlotte Johnson_

  _Dearest Mother_:

  I had expected to sail away from St. John's on the twentieth to return toyou before resuming the hard search for something to keep together thebody and soul which struggling young doctors without means have so hard atime to maintain in their proper relation. Since the old _Chandernagore_limped into St. John's with its bow stove in, after that terriblecollision, and the underwriters decided that she was hopelessly damaged,my prospects have been those of a man living on a pittance and merelyentitled to his passage home and a trifle of salary.

  A ship-surgeon utterly stranded can hardly be a very merry soul, and theday before yesterday I was strolling rather disconsolately about thedocks, when I saw a stunning yacht come in. She was a sight to feastone's eyes on, and until the last moment was under a cloud of sail whileher funnel belched black smoke. For a few minutes I saw some of thesmartest handling of canvas it has ever been given me to behold. As shecame on the great, silken, light sails fluttered, shrank and disappearedas if by magic; her headway stopped and the screw ceased its throbbing.She was just like a grand, white bird folding its wings and going tosleep. But even before she had ceased to move a boat was overboard andfour men were at the sweeps, pulling for shore. A few minutes later I waspassing in front of Simpson & Co., the big ship-chandlers who were the_Chandernagore's_ agents, when one of the clerks came out and ran towardsme.

  "Won't you come in?" he asked, excitedly. "There is the skipper of thatwhite yacht that just came in who wants a doctor at once, and at anycost. We supplied that boat after she left dry-dock here, some weeks ago.She belongs to regular swells, awfully rich people."

  "Is the man hurt or ill?" I asked.

  "No, he's all right. There is sickness at a little outport, diphtheria, Ihear, and they want a man at once. Money's no object."

  It really seemed as if a bit of luck might be coming my way, at last.Indeed I wanted badly to see your dear face again, and that silver hairI think so beautiful, but here was a prospect of sailing away on thatstunning little ship and of earning some badly needed money, so that Ifelt like whooping with joy. I leaped through the open door and saw avery gold-laced man who was talking very fast to the head of the firm.

  "Here's just the man you want," said the latter. "He's a first-rate youngchap who will go anywhere and do anything. His skipper of the_Chandernagore_ swears by him. I can send for him, if you like."

  "No time for that," interrupted the yacht's captain. "There is diphtheriaat Sweetapple Cove, and a doctor there who is nearly dead with it, Ibelieve. I've sent our mate for all the antitoxine he can buy, and he'sdriving around to all the druggists in the place. We also want a nurse,several nurses, all you can get. I'm keeping steam up and will start theminute you're ready."

  "And the remuneration," suggested Mr. Simpson.

  "Anything he wants to ask," said the captain, hurriedly, turning again tome; "just get a move on you, young man. Run off and get some nurses;promise any money they want to charge, and I won't wait over an hour."

  He saw a cab passing in the street and ran out to hail it.

  "Here," he said, "get into this thing and hunt for nurses."

  In his excitement he actually pushed me out of the shop and I jumped inthe cab, without the slightest idea of where I might find the desirednurses. At the nearest pharmacy, however, I obtained a couple ofaddresses. I 'phoned to the hospital but there was none there who couldbe spared. On following up my clues I found both nurses away on cases.More telephoning brought the information that several might be had in aday or two, and finally I called up Simpson & Co., who informed me thatthe skipper was tearing his hair at the delay.

  "He says you're to return at once. You can kill the cab-horse if you wantto. He'll pay for it."

  These were the last words I heard. I dashed off to the little hotel whereI stayed, for my trunk, and soon we were galloping along the peacefulstreets, here and there encumbered by pony-carts laden with vast piles ofcodfish, and finally reached the chandlery.

  "Well?" asked the captain, rushing out.

  "Not a nurse to be had to-day," I announced. "To-morrow or next dayseveral may be disengaged."

  There was an ejaculation excusable under the circumstance and the skippergrabbed my arm.

  "I won't wait a minute," he said. "I've got a doctor, that's the mainthing, and all the antitoxine in the place. Come along."

  We jumped in the cab, which drove off rapidly, and in a minute we reachedthe dock, where the yawl was waiting. Two of the men grabbed my trunk andput it on board and the skipper tossed a banknote to the driver, withoutwaiting for change, and we were off.

  The men pulled towards the yacht, and they must have been watching for uson board for I heard the clanking of the small donkey engine and theanchor-chain stiffened and began to draw in, fast. We scrambled on board,the trunk was tumbled in, and before the yawl was half way up to thedavits we were steaming away.

  "Come up on the bridge if you want to, Doctor," the captain called downto me, civilly.

  I accepted his invitation and ran up the steps. At his side stood agrizzled old man with a seamed, kindly face and the wrinkled eyes of themen who spend their lives searching through fog and darkness.

  "Good day, sor," he said to me. "You're a man as is real sore needed atSweetapple Cove."

  "I hope I may be of service," I answered.

  "Ye will be, God willin'," he assured me.

  By this time we had gathered full speed and were steaming fast betweenthe narrow headlands. The pilot was dropped a little later, withoutslackening our way much. We had passed swiftly by the crowded flakeswhich clung to the steep, rocky shore, inextricably mixed withbattered-looking fish-houses. As soon as we struck the swelling seasoutside we saw many little smacks engaged in fishing. We bore no canvas,for the wind was against us on the return journey. Then I noticed thatthe skipper was looking anxiously ahead, where, at a distance, a lowfog-pall was gathering.

  "Yes, sor," said the old man, guessing at his thoughts, "it's a-comin' onreal thick, but we's goin' ter pull her through."

  I ran below and got my oilskins out of my trunk, which I discovered in abeautiful little state-room, prettily furnished and dainty-looking indeedto a surgeon of tramp steamers. I did not waste much time in inspectingit, however, as I was interested in our progress towards that ominousbank of fog. When I reached the bridge again I was conscious of the moistchill of northern mists, and saw that the vapor was closing down upon usfast. The land astern was disappearing in a grey haze, while ahead thethickness was becoming more and more impenetrable. The skipper keptwalking from end to end of the bridge, restlessly, and I could sympathizewith him. He was in a hurry, a deadly hurry, which he had shown plainlyenough from the first moment my eyes had rested upon him, and now thismist was rendering all his haste futile, as far as I could see. Everymoment now I expected to see him ring down to the engine room for reducedspeed, but we kept on going, doggedly, blindly, until at last we werepitching over long, smooth swells that were covered by a blanket of murk.

  "We'll have to slow down, Sammy!" he suddenly cried, impatiently, to theold man. "That fog's too much for us, and getting worse every minute."

  "Keep on a bit yet," advised the latter. "'Tis all clear goin' fer awhiles, and we's too close inshore ter run into any big craft. They'llall be standin' out to sea."

  I could see that the captain was torn between his keen desire to keep onspeeding and his fear for the safety of his beautiful ship. He wasutterly unable to keep still more than a minute at a time, but the oldfisherman looked as cool and collected as if he had been puffing at hisrank old pipe within the four walls of a house.

  And those minutes seemed very long, then, as they always do when men areladen with the weight of constant suspense. Presently even the grey andblue waters our sharp bow was cleaving lost their color and the wholeworld was dismal, and grey, and dripping.

  This went on for long hours, as it se
emed to me, and finally the captaincould stand it no longer.

  "I'm going to ring for half speed," he shouted. "We can't keep this up,Sammy!"

  "Let be, let be fer a whiles," the old man counselled again. "I knowsjist where I be. I'll not be runnin' ye ashore, lad."

  And the yacht kept on for a long, long time, cleaving the grey water andthe fog, between which there was no difference now. It was really aspooky thing, even if a sporting one, to be dashing at fifteen knotsthrough that wall of vapor. Our steam whistle was sounding constantly,and old Sammy listened with his grey head cocked to one side, in a tenseattitude of constant attention.

  "We's gettin' nigh," he said, quietly. "I knows the sound o' he."

  Then, after a long, wailing blast, he suddenly lifted up his hand.

  "Port a bit till I tells yer," he called. "That'll do. Keep her so."

  The next sobbing cry of the siren brought a dull prolonged echo thatreverberated in the air.

  "I knowed we must be gettin' close to un," he said; "now we'll be havin'all open water again fer a whiles."

  The captain was tremulous with the excitement he bravely sought tosuppress, and my own heart was certainly in my throat. We were allstraining our eyes at this moment, and all at once we dimly had revealedto us something like the shadow of a great ghost-like mass that slippedby us, very fast, with a roar of the great swells bursting loudly at itsfoot.

  "Thunder! you Sammy!" shrieked the skipper. "I won't have you taking suchchances. I'm just as crazy to get there as you are but I'll be hanged ifI'm going to smash my ship."

  "We's all right now, Cap'en," answered the old man, quietly; "I sureknows all right what we is doin'."

  The captain had taken the wheel, and he glared at his binnacle like awild man. Now and then he gave a swift look around him, nervously, butthe old man's assurance had some effect upon him. Yet once I heard himsnarling:

  "Any man who ever catches me cruising around this country again can haveme locked up in an asylum. After I get shut of this job they can get someone else if they ever want to come back."

  And still the fog seemed to deepen, and the moisture dripped fromeverything, and the very air seemed hard to breathe. The darkness beganto come and all our lights were burning, while the siren continued tomoan. Several times, in answer to it, we faintly heard mournful sounds offishermen's horns, and once we blindly swerved just in time to avoidrunning down a tiny schooner.

  "Beggin' yer pardon, sor," the old man said to me, "seem' as how ye ain'tbusy it might be yer wouldn't mind startin' a bit of prayer as how wedon't smash up one o' them poor fellows. We jist got ter take somechances, fer I mistrust th' Lord he be wantin' ter save that doctor o'ours an' only needs be asked the right way."

  We were now shooting through that fog like lost wild things, like theducks and geese bewildered of a stormy night, which mangle themselvesagainst the wire nettings of light houses. Now and then the land abeamwould give forth response to the booming of our whistle. The old manSammy had taken the wheel and his grim face was frozen into an expressionof desperate energy, as his keen little grey eyes peered through themurk. By this time there was a heavy roll and our tall spars wereslashing at the mist as if seeking to cut down an unseen enemy. Everyman on board was under a nervous tension, conscious that a big thing wasbeing done. For a time there had been something akin to fear in allour hearts, but after a while it left us, to make room for the deliriumof blind, reckless speed.

  And then, suddenly, like a flash, the captain grasped the old fellow'sshoulder.

  "Slow down, man," he shrieked. "I bet all I've got you don't know whereyou are, and I can hear waves breaking ashore."

  But Sammy lifted up his hand, with an authority that seemed inspired, andgave another pull at the whistle cord. It brought forth a sound that wasrepeated, again and again, confusedly. For a frightfully long half minutewe kept up our speed; then the bell jingled in the engine-room and weslowed down a little. Under the old fisherman's hands the wheel began tospin around while we breathlessly watched him aim the ship at the furiousbreakers inshore, at the foot of dark cliffs.

  "For God's sake! What are you doing?" yelled the captain.

  The bell rang in the engine room to slow down and suddenly, on both sidesof us, appeared like devouring jaws great mass of rock upon which thehuge rollers were crashing in a smother of spume. Between them the yachtslipped, gracefully, and this time the siren's shriek was like avictorious cry. The bell sounded again and the _Snowbird_, after her longswift flight, came to a stop between the hilly sides of Sweetapple Cove,where men's voices roared indistinctly at us, and their forms stood dimlyrevealed by twinkling lanterns.

  And now, mother dear, I am writing at the bedside of a man lying in apoor little hut, whom I shall leave soon for a few hours of badly neededrest. I shall stop for the moment, but I have a great deal more to say.