Chapter 33

LISTER MAKES GOOD

_Arcturus'_ holds were empty and a long row of oil puncheons occupied the beach, but the men who had dragged the goods from the water were exhausted by heavy toil in the scorching sun, and some were sick. The divers had bolted on plates to cover the holes in the vessel's bilge before one fell ill and his mate's nerve went. The heat and poisonous vapors from the swamps had broken his health, and he got a bad jar one day his air-pipe entangled and the pump-gang dragged him, unconscious, to the top.

Afterwards, for the most part, Lister undertook the diving, but for long his efforts to reach the floor of the engine-room were baffled. To crawl across slanted gratings and down weedy ladders, while air-pipe and signal-line trailed about the machinery, was horribly dangerous, but he kept it up, although he got slacker and felt his pluck was breaking. Then one afternoon he knew he could not go down again, and he stayed under water long.

Brown, standing by the air-pumps, looked at his watch and waited anxiously. The bubbles broke the surface above the wreck and the signal-line was slack, but Lister had been down longer than he ought. He wars not a diver, and the others who knew their job, had come up sooner. Then Brown had other grounds for anxiety. If Lister were beaten, their chance of floating the wreck was small.

At length, the bubbles began to move towards the hulk, the ladder shook, and a dull, red reflection shone through the water. Then the copper helmet broke the surface, rose a few inches, and stopped, and Brown ran to the gangway. Lister was exhausted and his worn-out body could not meet the change of pressure. They dragged him on board and took off his helmet and canvas dress. For some minutes he lay like a log, and then opened his eyes and looked at Brown.

"Cartwright was on the track!" he gasped. "We can go ahead--"

The sun was low, but the pitch in the seams was liquid and smeared the hot planks, and Brown pulled Lister into the shade. For a time he was quiet, but by and by he said, "When the tide falls we'll start the pump and let her go all night. I must get up and tell Jones to clean the fire."

"I'll tell him. You stay there until we get some food," Brown replied.

The cook served the meal on deck, but they had hardly begun when he lighted a storm-lamp. As soon as the red sun dipped thick vapor floated off from the swamps, the water got oily black, and dark clouds rolled across the sky. Flickering lightning illumined the tumbling surf and sandy beach, but there was no thunder and the night was calm. The hulk and tug were moored at opposite sides of the wreck, forward of her engine room, and thick wire ropes that ran between them had been dragged back under the vessel for some distance from her bow. The ropes, however, were not yet hauled tight. When the cook took away the plates Brown made a rough calculation.

"We have caulked all hatches and gratings forward, and stopped the ventilators," he said. "I reckon the water will leave the deck long enough for the pump to give her fore-end some buoyancy. If she rises with the flood tide, well heave the cables aft, until we can get a hold that will lift her bow from the ground. Then you can pump out the fore hold and we'll make a fresh start aft. We'll soon know if Cartwright's notion is correct."

"We know _now_; I'll satisfy you in the morning," Lister rejoined and his confidence was not exaggerated.

A steamer's hull below her load-line is pierced in places to admit water for the condensers and ballast tanks. Lister had found some inlets open, but now they were shut.

"I'll own old Cartwright's a great man," Brown said thoughtfully. "When he takes on a job he studies things all round. The salvage folks, no doubt, reckoned on the possibility that the valves were open, but they couldn't get at the controls and didn't know all Cartwright knew--" He paused and added with a laugh: "I wonder how much the other fellows got for the job! But it's time we started."

Lister got up with an effort and went to the pump, which presently began to throb. The mended engine ran well and the regular splash of water, flung out from the big discharge pipe, drowned the languid rumble of the surf. The hull shook; shadowy figures crossed the beam of light from the furnace, and vanished in the dark. Twinkling lamps threw broken reflections on the water that looked like black silk, lightning flashed in the background, and when the swell broke with phosphorescent sparkles about the wreck Lister marked the height the pale illumination crept up her plates. She would not lift that tide, but the pump was clearing the hold, and he hoped much water was not coming in. If the leakage was not excessive, her bow ought to rise when the next tide flowed.

For some hours he kept his watch, dragging himself wearily about the engine and pump. He had helpers, but control was his, and to an engineer a machine is not a dead mass of metal. Lister, so to speak, felt the pump had individuality and temperament, like a spirited horse. Sometimes it must be humored and sometimes urged; it would run faster for a man whose touch was firm but light than for another. Perhaps he was fanciful, and he was certainly over-strung, but he imagined the big, rattling machine knew his hand.

At length when he looked at the gauge glass he found he could not see the line that marked the water-level. His head swam and his legs shook, and calling a fireman to keep watch, he sat down in the coal. He wanted to get to the awning, out of the dew, but could not, and leaning against the rough blocks, he went to sleep.

In the morning, he knew the fever that bothered him now and then had returned. For all that, he must hold out and he began his labor in the burning sun. When the flood tide rippled about the wreck it was obvious the pump was getting the water down. The bows lifted, and starting the winches, they hauled aft the ropes. If they could keep it, before long they might heave her from the sand.

It was a time of stubborn effort and crushing strain. Some of the men were sick and all had lost their vigor. The fierce sun had not burned but bleached their skin; their blood was poisoned by the miasma the land breeze blew off at night. For all that, Cartwright's promise was they should share his reward and somehow they held on.

At length, in the scorching heat one afternoon when the flood tide began to run, they hauled the hulk and tug abaft the wreck's engine-room and made the great ropes fast. If Lister's calculations were accurate, the pump had thrown out enough water, and the buoyancy of the other craft would lift the wreck's stern. If not--but he refused to think about this.

The sea breeze had dropped and the smoke of the engine went straight up. There was not a line on the glittering lagoon. The sea looked like melted silver; one felt it give out light and heat. The men's eyes ached and the intolerable sun pierced their double hats and dulled their brains. When all was ready, they waited and watched the sandy water creep up _Arcturus'_ plates until the ropes stretched and groaned and the hulk began to list. On the wreck's other side, the tug's mast and funnel slanted.

_Arcturus_ was not yet afloat, and the big wire-ropes, running beneath her bilge, held down the helping craft. The ends were made fast by hemp lashings and somebody had put an ax beside the post. For all that, Lister did not think Brown would give the order to cut; he himself would not. If they did not float Arcturus now, she must remain in the sand for good. He would hold on until the rising tide flowed across the tug.

In the meantime, he watched the pump. The engine carried a dangerous load and the spouting discharge pipe was swollen. Throbbing and rattling, she fought the water that held _Arcturus_ down. A greaser touched the crosshead-slides with a tallow swab, and a panting fireman thrust a bar through the furnace door. Their skin was blackened by sweat and coal dust; soaked singlets, tight like gloves, clung to their lean bodies. Nobody else, however, was actively occupied. The negroes lay on the deck and the white men lounged in the shade of the awning. They had done all that flesh and blood could do, in a climate that breaks the white man's strength, and now the tide ought to finish their labor. But they did not know, and some doubted.

The ropes cracked and the hulk's list got sharp. On one side, her deck was very near the water. She was broad, but if _Arcturus_ did not lift, it was obvious she must soon capsize. Lister opened the engine throttle until the valve-wheel would not turn. The cylinders shook, a gland blew steam, and the pump clashed and rocked. All the same, he knew himself ridiculous. The extra water the pump lifted would not help much now. They had a few minutes, and then, if nobody cut the ropes, the hulk would go down.

The massive oak mooring-post groaned and the deck-seams opened with the strain; the wire-ropes were rigid; one could see no hint of curve. The water touched the hulk's deck and began to creep up. Then it stopped, the hulk shook, and the wreck's long side slowly got upright.

"She's off!" said Brown hoarsely. Somebody blew the tug's whistle, and one or two shouted, but this was all. They had won a very stubborn fight, but winning had cost them much, and Lister felt their triumph was strangely flat. He smiled and owned he would be satisfied to lie down and sleep.

Brown gave an order; _Terrier's_ propeller splashed noisily, and _Arcturus_ began to move. Somehow it looked impossible, but she was moving. They took her slowly and cautiously across the lagoon, and when the tide was full put her on the sand. There was much to do yet and Lister wondered whether he could hold out until all was done.

In the evening Montgomery came off on board a boat pulled by four sturdy Kroos. He was very thin and haggard, but the fever had left him. When his boat got near, Brown, frowning savagely, went to the rail.

"What d'you want?" he asked.

"Let me come on board. If we can't, agree, I'll go back in a few minutes," Montgomery replied, and climbing the bulwarks, went to the awning and lighted a cigarette.

"You have floated her, but the job's not finished," he said. "I expect you mean to bring off the cargo you landed and you'll need a fresh gang of native boys. Well, I can help."

"You imply you can bother us if we don't agree?" Brown remarked.

"Something like that! I can certainly make things awkward. However, all I want is to go with you when you open the lazaret where the boxes of gold were stored."

"Ah!" said Brown. "I expect you see what your wanting to go indicates? Looks as if you knew something about the wreck."

"I imagine I do know something," Montgomery admitted quietly. "At the beginning, I reckoned you would not float her, but in order to run no risk, I meant to hinder you as much as possible. Now I'm beaten, I'm going to be frank--"

He paused and resumed in a low voice: "When I was left control of a respected business house I was young and ambitious. It was plain the house had weathered a bad storm, but our fortunes were mending and I thought they could be built up again. Well, I think I was honest, and when one of _Arcturus'_ crew demanded money I got a jar. Since my father loaded the ship, I expect you see where the fellow's threats led?"

"I see the line Cartwright might take," Brown remarked dryly. "If the boxes don't hold gold, he could break you! We have found out enough already to give him a strong pull on the boat's last owners. They're in his power."

"He won't use his power. Cartwright is not that sort! Besides, the company is bankrupt."

"You are not bankrupt. Do you know what sort Lister and I are?"

Montgomery smiled. "It's not important. If there is no gold in the boxes, I don't want to carry on the house's business. You can do what you like--"

He stopped for a few moments and Lister began to feel some sympathy. The man was desperate and had obviously borne much.

"My staying at the factory was a strain," Montgomery continued. "I was ill and when at length I saw you might succeed, the suspense was horrible. You see, I risked the honor of the house, my marriage, my fortune. All I had and cared about!"

"Were you to be married?" Lister asked.

Montgomery signed agreement. "The wedding was put off. While it looked as if my mended fortune was built on fraud and I had known, and agreed to, the trick, I could not marry a high-principled girl."

Brown knitted his brows and was quiet for some moments. Then he said, "You are now willing to get us the boys we want and help us where you can?"

"That is so," Montgomery agreed.

"Very well!" said Brown. "We expect to open the lazaret at daybreak and you can come with us. You had better send off your boat and stop on board."