Part 10

The mate dropped into the small boat, and Sam rowed him rapidly ahead of the yacht. He would drop overboard and drift and swim quickly down with the current, while the small boat would circle around at a great distance and out of sight to pick him up after he had finished and drifted astern.

Swimming strongly with a deep breast-stroke which made no foam or noise, Bill slipped through the black sea like a fish. In a short time he gained the anchor-chain, which strained out ahead with the force of the tide upon the hull.

Resting for a few moments and listening to make sure the man on deck had not seen him, he let himself drift along the vessel's side until he reached the end of his line. This he pulled out of the seam and let go.

It opened her for a length of thirty feet--a thin, nasty leak, which would be hard to find and impossible to stop without docking. It was the work of an expert wrecker, and he grinned to himself as he let the current take him away.

Not a mark had he made upon the beautiful white hull, and yet she was even now filling rapidly through seams which had been carefully calked.

Of course, if the weather remained calm enough for them to work a small boat alongside and study her bilge a couple of feet below the water, they would come upon the seam. But the weather was not going to remain calm very long. He knew it would be blowing hard before daybreak, before there would be any light to see her smooth side below the water where the green of her copper paint had hardly been disturbed.

He had passed his knife along the seam after the line was removed, and it was open. His work was done.

Sam picked him up half a mile astern, and they rowed silently back aboard the _Sea-Horse_. All the others had turned in, and they did likewise, after lowering down the mainsail and paying out enough cable to hold the vessel should it blow before they awoke. The small boat was towed astern, for they were well back behind the key, and quite sheltered.

In the still hours of the early morning Captain Smart was awakened by the unusual sound of water washing about in the yacht's bilge. He roused himself and listened. The first note of the rising wind droned through the rigging, and the man on watch came to his door to call him. In a moment he was on deck.

The night was still dark, although it was nearly four o'clock. The wind had come from the southeast, and it was freshening every moment. The hands were called, and the cable given to the anchor while the heavy bower was dropped, that she might set back upon them both.

There was plenty of room, and she brought up nicely, riding easily to the fast-increasing sea. She was heading it, and, therefore, had not begun to plunge enough to wake the party aft. But every moment the whistling snore aloft told of what was coming.

After seeing that his ship was snug and safe for the time being, Smart went below to get into his oilskins. It had not yet started to rain, but it was coming, and he would not have time to leave the deck if anything went wrong.

While he sat upon his bunk-edge he again heard the washing sound from below. It came loud and insistent, not to be confounded with the wash from the sea outside. At that moment the mate came into his room.

"What's the matter below, sir?" he asked. "Sounds like we've got water in her. Shall I try the pumps?"

"Well, if we do, it will frighten every one. It's going to blow a regular snorter. There can't be any water in her--she's tight as a bottle. You might sound her, but don't let any one see you do it."

Before Smart had buttoned on his sou'wester, the mate came below again. He had a naturally long face and seemed solemn even in his most happy moment. Now he pulled a face as long as a rope-yarn.

"Four feet of water in her, sir," he said, and he looked at Smart as though that officer had said something to hurt him.

Smart gazed at him for a moment-in perplexity. He saw his mate was sober. He was too good a sailor to come aft with any silly story. He knew there was something wrong, and he sprang up the companion.

In the rush of the wind on deck all sounds from below were, of course, silenced. The droning roar in the rigging as squall after squall tore past made it evident that it was beginning to blow some. Forms appeared aft, and Dunn came staggering along the rail to the mainmast followed by his male guests.

"Will she hold on all right?" called Dunn to his captain, who now stood at the pump-well with the sounding-line in his hand. It was too dark for the owner to notice the skipper's movements, but Smart put the line out of sight.

"Oh, yes, she'll hold all right," bawled the captain. "You better go below for a bit, or else put on your rain-clothes; it's going to wet up here soon."

The men stood near the mast for a few moments, and, seeing that nothing unusual was taking place, began edging aft again. A spurt of rain sent them down the cabin companion, and Smart dropped his line into the well. It showed a depth of four and a half feet of water below, or just up to the cabin floor.

Something must be done at once. All hands were called to the pumps, and the clank of the brakes warned the owner that all was not well. He came on deck with his guests, and as they were now in their rain-clothes, Smart requested them to get busy. He would need all the men he could get to keep her clear.

Daylight dawned upon a wild sea to the eastward. The reef roared in a deep thunder, but the heaviest sea was shut off from them. Streaming scud fled past above them with the gale, and the mastheads seemed to pierce a gray sky, which hurled itself to the northward at a terrific rate.

The sea that struck the _Sayonara_ was short, and had a great velocity, but it was not high enough to make her plunge bows under. She rode it with short jerks and leaps, smashing into it and sending a storm of flying water as high as her crosstrees. This the wind hurled aft and away in a heavy shower.

She was holding to one hundred fathoms on one, and seventy fathoms upon her largest anchor, and as the sea was shallow where she lay, the taut chains stretched right out ahead, like two stiff bars of metal.

"How did it happen--what is it?" Dunn kept asking; but his skipper could give no response. All he knew was that she was filling fast, so fast that they could just keep her about even with the leak. It was three hours before it showed less than four feet of water below, and by that time the men were getting tired.

Smart told off the watches, and sent one below for a rest while the makeshift cook tried to get all hands some coffee. They were going to have plenty of work cut out for them, and they needed all the rest and refreshment they could get.

With only one watch at the pumps the water began to gain slowly upon them, and by noon it was as high as ever again. The yacht plunged heavily under this extra weight, and Smart gave her every link he had aboard, afterward putting heavy stoppers upon both cables to take the strain of the setback from the bitts.

He had done all he could, and now waited with anxious eye upon the glass, hoping for the shift which he knew must soon come. If he could hang on for another twelve hours, he felt certain he would ride the gale down safely; then--well, then it was up to Dunn to say whether to risk a run to Key West or beach her. Just now the sea was too heavy to think of going to leeward anywhere. She would go to pieces on the reef.

Smart crouched under the lee of the foremast, watching men and anchors alternately. Dunn joined him.

"The women are getting a bit nervous, Smart," said the owner. "There's no danger as long as she holds, is there?"

"Not a bit," was the short answer. He was thinking how much easier it would have been if Dunn had allowed him to make a good anchorage before the blow began.

"Well, I'll go below and tell 'em--when in doubt take a drink--come!" And his two guests followed him.

All that wild day the _Sayonara_ tugged and plunged at the end of her cable, the water gaining slowly in her bilge; and when the darkness with all its terrors came on, the men began to have some misgivings as to what the yacht would do.

Just as the wild night darkened the storm-torn sea, Smart wiped the ends of his glasses to get them free from the flying salt water and spume. He then took a last look around to see if anything was in sight. Only the lighthouse showed above the waste of reef and white water to the westward. Not a sign of humanity. Not a thing else from which to expect human sympathy.

Suddenly he noticed something like a mast rising from behind the end of the key. Yes, it was a single vessel, snug and close in behind the shelter. He could not make out her hull, or he would have at once recognized the _Sea-Horse_, victor over many a hard-fought battle with the elements of the Florida reef, now lying snug and safe as a house with her crew below. He was not aware of it, but a pair of eyes were at that moment gazing fixedly at his vessel, peering out of a dirty port-hole.

Bahama Bill had never ceased to watch the yacht from the first drone of the storm, and all the night the giant mate had kept watch upon the tiny star of his anchor-light as it rose and fell with each plunge.

As the night wore on and the water had not gained sufficiently to make it necessary to call all hands, Smart went below for the first time and took a good meal, eating heartily of everything, and washing down the food with two large cups of coffee.

It was now nearly midnight, and the glass showed signs of rising. The squalls were of less violence, and the captain hoped now to weather it out safely before putting his ship upon the beach to get at the leak.

While he ate he was aware of a sudden shock. The _Sayonara_ seemed to shift her nose from dead into the sea, and then a peculiar trembling of the hull told him of that thing all ship-masters dread. At the same instant the rush of feet sounded upon the deck, and the mate poked his head into the hatchway.

"Starboard anchor's gone, sir--she's dragging back unto the reef inside the light----"

"Get the foresail on her--all hands!" roared Smart, tearing up the ladder.

The _Sayonara_ had carried too heavy a load. She was too deep with the water in her, and had at last parted her steel cable to starboard. The other anchor was not heavy enough to hold her with the extra tons of water below; she had broken it clear, and was dragging it back--back upon the coral bank, where she would soon be a wreck if she struck.

One instant told Smart what he must do. He was too far in to try to get to sea, and, even if he were not, he could not drive the half-sunken vessel up against that sea and wind. To do so would be certain destruction, for there would be no chance to keep the leak under. He must run her in and beach her where it would be least dangerous.

In the blackness of midnight he might make a mistake and hit a bad spot, but it was the only chance. If he could get her far enough in behind the key to make a lee upon the bank beyond, he might save her--at least save all hands. There was little room to work her, but she was a stanch ship.

"Cut the chain--break it with an axe!" he bawled. And the men sprang to obey.

The thunder of the close-reefed foresail brought Dunn from below, but as he was no use forward he wisely remained aft. His two guests stood near him. A feminine form appeared in the companionway.

Smart was at the wheel, rolling it hard over to break the yacht off and fill away the foresail, but he caught the words:

"Oh, isn't it grand? A real storm! Oh, major, this is what you're used to. I know you will bring us out of it all right. No, I don't need a wrap, my dear Mrs. Dunn. Splendid!"

The _Sayonara_ filled away, the chain was broken, and the dragging anchor left behind. With the wind upon her quarter, she tore away through the night, leaving a white path astern.

Smart strained his eyes for the edge of the bank behind the lower key. It was the most sheltered spot, but even in a sheltered spot to leeward there would be a mighty sea breaking, with the wind blowing with hurricane force. He would do the best he could.

The whole uselessness of the affair lay upon him, and he swore, muttering at the folly of his owner. A little shelter and the yacht would have ridden down anything as long as she would float. The leak would not have mattered so much had they been in out of that heavy sea that made her surge so heavily upon her cables. He could have kept it under easily enough, but now he was running the vessel to her end to save those aboard.

The light of the Boca Grande Pass showed him the direction of the reef. The surrounding blackness showed nothing. He must make his landing by the bearing of the lighthouse, and trusting that his distance would be run right.

A heavy squall snored over him, and the straining bit of foresail responded to the furious rush, heeling the _Sayonara_ down to her deck. All about them the water was snow-white with the sweep of the wind. He heard a call from forward, and saw his mate running aft at full speed. A heavier sea lifted the yacht, heeled her to leeward; then there was a tremendous shock.

A wild burst of sea tore over the yacht, the following sea had broken against her side as she stopped in her run. The water was blinding, but Smart could feel her swing up, and off from the wind. The wheel was suddenly whirled out of his hands, and with a crash the _Sayonara_ set her heel again into the coral of the reef.

"Get below, every one," roared Smart, and the struggling Dunn, with the major, who had been washed to leeward, fought their way back to the companion.

Smart shoved them roughly down and followed, closing the hatchway after him. It was the only way. To remain on deck while the sea broke over her would be to invite almost certain death. Again and again the yacht rose and crashed down upon the coral bank beneath, the smashing crash of her rending timbers making a deafening noise to those confined in her. It was like being within a drum while it was being beaten by a mighty stick.

If they could remain below until the vessel drove well up on the bank, it would be well. If the filling hold drove them on deck they would have to face a whirling sea, which was breaking in a wild smother clear across the wreck. Smart watched the water rising above the cabin floor, and waited.

Forward, the mate had got the crew below and closed all hatches. It would be some time before she filled full enough to drive them on deck, and all the time the stanch little craft was driving higher and higher up the bank into shallow water.

Smart took a look at the glass. It was rising. There would be three more hours of inky darkness, and he hoped the little ship would last it out. In the morning it would break clear, and there would be good weather, a splendid chance to save not only the people aboard the vessel, but much of her valuable fittings.

Dunn tried to calm the fears of his guests. The major, white and ghastly in the light of the cabin lamp, tried to put on an air of unconcern. His companion tried to joke with Miss Harsha, but even that young woman seemed to feel that the storm was entirely too real, the end not quite in sight.

"When in doubt, take a drink," suggested the owner, and proceeded to fill three glasses. A sudden rise and smash of the yacht flung the glasses to leeward, where they shivered into fragments upon the cabin deck. Dunn saved his whiskey only by hanging on to it with one hand, while he clung to the buffet with the other.

The water rose rapidly in the cabin. It was over the floor two feet deep by three o'clock, and the mate came through the bulkhead door and announced that the yacht had stove amidships, and was hanging upon a point of coral, which prevented her from driving farther in.

As near as he could make out, there was still seven feet of water alongside to leeward, the vessel now lying almost broadside to the sea, which broke heavily over her. She had been drawing twelve feet, and had driven up five feet, resting upon her starboard bilge, except when she lifted with the sea. Something must be done, for the water would be too deep below to remain there much longer. It would be at least five feet deep in the cabin, and would swash about enough to drown any one.

The roar of the wind was growing rapidly less, but the crash of the seas prevented Smart from noting it definitely. He waited and watched the rising flood. O for a little daylight, to see where he had struck! Was there a chance to make a landing? To put off in that smother in the small boats without knowing where he would bring up was too disagreeable to contemplate until the last moment.

The water gained steadily, and the women became panicky. The major no longer jested, and Dunn was not in doubt. He had stopped drinking, for the peril of the night was upon him now in earnest.

Smart, with the mate, made his way on deck, closing the hatchway after them. They crawled along the weather-rail and gained the waist, where the whale-boat was snugly stowed under the shelter of the rail to leeward. The water broke over them constantly, but the wind was going down, and Smart decided to make ready to try to effect a landing.

The whale-boat was in perfect order, and it would hold all hands, but he decided that half of the crew should make the first attempt, in order to see if there was any place to make the beach. They could bring her back for the rest, and if they failed, there was the gig; it would hold the women and the rest of the crew.

When they had the boat over the side, it was all they could do in the darkness to keep it from smashing back with the back-wash of the sea. The mate managed to get four men into her, and sprang in himself. Smart went aft and brought Dunn and some of the others, the major staying with Mrs. Dunn and Miss Harsha. Ten men left the _Sayonara_, and were instantly swallowed up in the gloom. Then Smart went back below to await the mate's return.

In the meantime the water below had risen so high that even the transoms upon which the refugees perched were several inches under, and at each surge it went all over them, roaring and washing about. The cabin lamp was extinguished, and the black darkness which ensued lent terror to the turmoil in that little cabin.

An hour passed, and no boat came back. It looked ominous. The mate would surely come back if he could. He was evidently lost or unable to pull up against the heavy wind and sea. There was no use waiting any longer. The water was still rising below, and the women must be taken ashore if it were possible.

Smart got the rest of the watch to work upon the gig, and by superhuman efforts they finally swung her to leeward, and held her clear of the side. Miss Harsha was lowered into her, and then Mrs. Dunn. The latter seemed perfectly at ease, and scorned the assistance of the major, who gallantly offered to go with her. The noise of the roaring water precluded any attempt at conversation, and the darkness made all cling close to the rail in a bunch, each helping the other as best they could.

After all hands had jumped in, Smart followed, and gave the order to shove clear, and, with the hope of striking the bank in a safe spot, he headed out from under the lee of the wreck. The gray dawn of early morning was breaking upon the scene, and the wind was falling rapidly. It looked as though there would be no great trouble making the land. But the sea was very heavy.

From under the lee of the wrecked yacht a giant roller, which had failed to burst upon the outer reef, foamed in a huge smother, and swept down upon the small boat. Smart had kept her head to the sea, and was allowing her to drift back very slowly, so that in case he saw a bad place he could pull out and away without turning around. The surge struck her and filled her half-full, but she rose again and rode safely. Men bailed for dear life.

In the growing light Smart saw the rise of the bank to leeward, and the sea falling heavily upon it. It was a most dangerous surf for a small boat. He stopped his craft, and lay heading the sea for half an hour, waiting for a chance to run in, and in the meantime the dawn came to reveal the desolate coral bank.

Smart stood up and looked about him. Not a sign of the whale-boat showed anywhere. His own craft was taking the sea heavily, and kept every one not rowing busy bailing. He saw it was no use waiting any longer, and began to go back into the surf.

Steering with one of the oars, he managed to keep the craft's head to the sea until they were in less than six feet of water. The bank being flat for nearly a mile to leeward of the yacht, the seas rolled foaming across it. He was within a quarter of a mile of the dry reef, which showed in the growing light, when a rolling sea caught the small boat and swerved her head a bit.

The next instant the steering-oar broke, and before the men rowing could swing her straight to the sea, she took the following one broadside and rolled over in the smother.

Smart had a vision of floundering men, women, and boat. The seas broke over his head and blinded him, strangled him, and seemed to hold him under. It was all white water, rolling foam, and it was almost impossible to breathe in it.

Then the sense of the danger dawned upon him with renewed force, and he struggled to where the dress of Miss Harsha showed upon the surface. He seized her, and dragged her to the upturned boat.

The major was already holding on to the keel, assisted by two men. Mrs. Dunn swam easily alongside, and grasped a line thrown her. The painter was passed along the keel and made fast to a ring-bolt aft. Then all hands held fast to this line, and waited for the sea to wash them in.

After an hour of struggling it became apparent that the boat was not nearing the shallow water fast enough. The tide was ebbing, and setting her out to the deep water; carrying her to the heavy sea, when it would soon be impossible to live.

"If you will take Miss Harsha, major," said Smart, "you will be able to make a landing. Take two men with you, and swim her ashore before it's too late."

"I think I'll stay by the boat," said the major.

The girl was half-fainting.

"It's my duty to stay by the boat, Mrs. Dunn," said Smart, "but unless some one takes Miss Marion in, we'll lose her. I'm going to try for it."

Taking the ablest man to help him, Smart fastened a couple of the oars together, for an aid to float, and then started the struggle in through the surf.

It was a long, desperate fight through the broken water over the flat coral bank. Sometimes they would be able to touch the bottom, and then were swept from their feet again by the sea. Sometimes they would be gaining, and then the current, sweeping strongly out, would set them offshore until the fight seemed hopeless.

With the girl's head resting upon his shoulder, and the oars under his arms, Smart kept the struggle up. The sailor helped him, and finally they managed to get into water shoal enough to stand. Then they were aware of forms approaching along the shore, and the recognized the mate and his men who had gone in the whale-boat. In a few minutes willing hands dragged them to the dry land.

The mate's boat had been stove in, and this had kept him from coming back. He had made a successful landing, but had failed to notice the other until a few minutes before he had sighted Smart in the breakers.

A glimpse of sunlight shot through the flying scud. The wind was slacking up and the sea going down very fast. The key they were upon was separated from the one with the light by a broad sheet of water. They were unable to reach any help from there.

While they gazed at the speck of the upturned boat, Smart rubbed the wrists of the fainting girl, and endeavoured to revive her.

The mate spoke up. "Seems like I see a boat coming around the key to the s'uthard," he said.