The Coxswain's Bride, Robert Michael Ballantyne [7 ebook reader TXT] 📗

stand by to let go!" cried the captain, in loud sharp tones, for he felt that there was no room to turn and retreat. The order was also given to take in all sail.

But before either order could be obeyed, a cry of terror burst from many throats, for right in front of them there suddenly loomed out of the darkness an object like a great black cloud, which rose high above and seemed about to fall upon them. There was no mistaking its nature, however, for by that time the roar of the breakers right ahead told but too plainly that they were rushing straight upon a high perpendicular cliff. At this moment the vessel struck a rock. It was only a slight touch at the stern, nevertheless it tore the rudder away, so that the intention of the captain to put about and take his chance of striking on the rocks to starboard was frustrated.

"Let go," he shouted, in this extremity.

Quick as lightning the anchor went to the bottom but with such way on the ship, the sudden strain snapped the chain, and the _Lapwing_ rushed upon her doom, while cries of terror and despair arose from the passengers, who had by that time crowded on deck.

To the surprise of the captain, and those who were capable of intelligent observation, the ship did not immediately strike again, but sailed straight on as if right against the towering cliffs. Still onward it went, and as it did so there settled around them a darkness so profound that no one could see even an inch before his eyes. Then at last the ill-fated vessel struck, but not with her hull, as might have been expected. High up above them a terrific crash was heard.

"God help us," exclaimed the captain, "we've sailed straight into a cave!"

That he was right soon became evident, for immediately after the crashing of the topmasts against the roof of the cave, a shower of small stones and several large fragments fell on the deck with a rattle like that of musketry. Some of the people were struck and injured, though not seriously so, by the shower.

"Get down below, all of you!" cried the captain, himself taking shelter under the companion hatchway. But the order was needless, for the danger was so obvious that every one sought the shelter of the cabins without delay.

The situation was not only terrible but exceedingly singular, as well as trying, for as long as stones came thundering down on the deck it would have been sheer madness to have attempted to do anything aboveboard, and to sit idle in the cabins with almost certain death staring them in the face, was a severe test of endurance.

From the motion of the vessel several facts could be deduced. Although the scraping and crashing of the masts overhead told eloquently of destruction going on in that direction, the heaving of the ship, and her striking occasionally on either side, proved that there was deep water below her. That they were not progressing into an interminable cavern was made evident by the frequent plunging of the shattered bowsprit against the inner end of the cave. This action sent the vessel reeling backwards, as it were, every time she struck, besides shattering the bowsprit. That the cave, also, was open to the full force of the sea was only too severely proved by the rush of the billows into it, and the frequent and severe shocks to which they were in consequence subjected. These shocks had extinguished the lamps, and it was only by the aid of a few candles that they were delivered from sitting in absolute darkness.

In these awful circumstances the young Wesleyan proved that, besides the courage that he had already shown in facing danger on a sudden emergency, he also possessed that far higher courage which can face the slow and apparently sure approach of death with equanimity and self-possession. Moreover, he proved that the Word of God and prayer are the true resources of man in such extremities.

Calling those who were willing, around him, he led them in prayer, and then quieted the timid among them, as well as comforted all, not by reading, but by quoting appropriate passages from Scripture, in which he was profoundly versed.

"D'ee know when it'll be low water, sir?" asked Joe Slag of the captain, when the ship gave one of her upward heaves and rasped her timbers again on the sides of the cave.

"Not for three hours yet, but it's falling. I expect there will be less sea on in a short time. If the ship holds together we may yet be saved."

There was a murmured "thank God" at these words. Then Bob Massey expressed some fear that there might be a danger of striking the rocks underneath before low water.

"I wish it was the risin' tide," he said, and the words took his mind back, like a flash of lightning, to the time when he used them in a very different sense. Then all was peace, hope, sunshine, and his bride was sitting like a good angel beside him, with a sweet smile on her fair face. Now, something like darkness visible, showed him his poor wife-- still beside him, thank God--but clinging to his arm with looks of terror amounting almost to despair. "What a contrast!" he thought, and for the first time a feeling of rebellion arose in his mind.

"There's no use o' sittin' here to be drowned like rats," he cried, starting up. "I'll go on deck an' take a cast o' the lead, an' see what chances we have."

"No, you won't, Bob," cried Nellie, throwing her arms firmly round him. "There's big stones falling all about the deck yet. Don't you hear them?"

As if to corroborate her words, a piece of rock nearly half a ton in weight fell on the sky-light at that moment, crashed completely through it, through the table below, and even sank into the cabin floor. Fortunately, no one was hurt, though Slag had a narrow escape, but that worthy was not easily intimidated. He rose up, and, saying that, "it was as well to be killed on deck doin' somethin' as in the cabin doin' nothin'," was about to ascend the ladder when Dr Hayward suddenly entered, all wet and dishevelled, and with blood trickling down his face.

"No use going up just now, Joe," he said, as he sat down beside his wife, and permitted her to tie a kerchief round his head. "Only a slight wound, Eva, got while taking soundings. I find that there are sixteen fathoms of water under us, and, although I couldn't see my hand held up before my face, I managed to make out by the flash of a match, which burned for a moment before being blown out, that the sides of the cave are quite perpendicular, not the smallest ledge to stand on. The tide, however, is ebbing fast, and the water in the cave calming, so that if no bad leak has been made by all this thumping we may yet be saved. Our only chance is to stick to the ship."

While he was speaking the vessel again surged violently against one side of the cave, and another of the huge masses of rock that were brought down by the swaying masts came crashing on the deck.

"There is no bad leak as yet," said the captain, re-entering the cabin, which he had quitted for the purpose of sounding the well. "If we can keep afloat for an hour or two we may be able to use the boats. Just now it would be useless to attempt launching them."

Although the captain's words were not particularly reassuring, his confident tone and manner infused hope, and comforted the people greatly. Some of the male passengers even volunteered to face the shower of stones, if need be, and lend a hand in launching the boats, when the time for doing so arrived.

These boats, three in number, were lying bottom up on deck, and to reach them involved the risk of death to whoever should attempt it. They were therefore compelled to wait.

It is difficult to form even a slight conception of the horrors of that night. For several hours they sat in the after-cabin, and the ship surged and plunged in the wildly-heaving water, striking the sides continually, while rocks fell at intervals on the deck, thus adding to the noise of wind and waves as they raged with echoing, deafening noise in the black cavern. Each moment it seemed as if the ship must have her planks stove in and be sunk, but she was a new vessel and strong. Of course she leaked considerably, but when the tide went down the sea calmed a little, the rocks ceased falling from the roof, and they were enabled to rig the pumps and work them vigorously. The boats, meanwhile, were cast loose and got ready to launch at the first glimmer of daylight! Fortunately, they had received no serious injury from the falling rocks.

Oh, how they longed and prayed for the day! It came at last, a gleam so faint that it showed nothing of their surroundings save the outline of the cavern's great mouth.

"Shall we launch the boats now, sir?" asked the first mate, who was becoming anxious, because the carpenter had just reported that the water in the hold was increasing dangerously in spite of the pumps.

"Not yet--not yet," returned the captain, hurriedly. "We must have more light first. The loss of a boat would be fatal. I'm afraid of the rising tide."

"Afraid of the rising tide!" Again the words struck strangely on Bob Massey's ears as he stood wiping the perspiration from his brow after a long spell at the pumps--and once more carried him back to the sunlit sands of Old England.

Soon the increase of water in the hold was so great that the getting out of the boats could no longer be delayed. The first launched was a small one. It was lowered over the stern by means of the studding-sail boom, with a block and whip, which kept it from dropping too quickly into the water. Massey and his friend Slag, being recognised as expert boatmen in trying circumstances, were sent in it, with two of the crew, to run out a line and drop an anchor in the sea outside, so that the heavier boats might be hauled out thereby. Two hundred and fifty fathoms of rope were given them--more than sufficient for the purpose. On getting outside, Bob and his friend, according to custom as lifeboat men, kept a sharp look-out on everything around them, and the feeble daylight enabled them to see that the black cliff which had, as it were, swallowed up the _Lapwing_, was full six hundred feet high and a sheer precipice, in some places overhanging at the top, and without the symptom of a break as far as the eye could reach in either direction.

"A black look-out, Joe," muttered Massey, as he assisted his comrade to heave the anchor over the side.

"Ay, Bob, an' the worst of it is that the tide's risin'. A boat can live here as long as that ridge o' rocks keeps off the seas, but in an hour or so it'll be rollin' in