CHAPTER XI.

CAPTAIN HAWKSHAW MAKES A DISCOVERY TO LEEWARD.

On the night the _Princess_ was lost, the _Hermione_ did not escape the same storm, which probably traversed in a circle all the waters of the South Atlantic.

It was no doubt the mere skirt of the tempest which affected her, as the sky around was clear, and the stars shone brilliantly.

Her jib was blown out of the bolt-rope and split to ribbons, and she had her topsails close-reefed.

"Stow what remains of the jib," ordered Captain Phillips; "into the netting with it--quick, men; cheerily now, and up with the foretopmast-staysail."

As soon as this was done, he added:

"Go below, the watch, and take a nap if you can, for it may blow great guns before morning."

"It is blowing three gales in one as it is," said Mr. Quail. "The water comes waist-high in the lee-scuppers, and washes right chock aft to the taffrail."

The _Hermione_ was tearing through the sea upon the wind, so she rolled little, but the wild waves came pouring over her catheads and topgallant forecastle, and over the weather bulwarks, swashing and plashing their snowy spray far above the level of her main-courser.

"Who is at the wheel?" asked the captain, who was standing at the break of the quarter-deck.

"Badger, the long Yankee," replied Mr. Quail.

"All seems quiet among these rascals forward; and they worked cheerily enough to-night."

"All quiet as yet, sir; but we don't know when their little game may begin."

"If they should have changed their minds?" suggested Phillips.

"No chance of that, sir," said Quail, shaking his head.

"Or, if the doctor was mistaken?"

"Impossible, sir," said Quail, shaking his head again--it was under a cloud of spray this time; "and, even if he was so, we can't mistake the disappearance of poor Manfredi after Sharkey's ugly threats, and their mutinous spirit in general. As first mate, I have seen enough of it to last my time at sea."

"I am prepared for the worst, at all events," responded Phillips, in the same low voice, as he instinctively felt for the butt of the revolver pistol in his breast-pocket, and ascended to the weather side of the poop.

Veering round to the south-eastward, the wind was soon dead against the ship, which laboured hard, though running close-hauled, and, while beating to windward, her head was many points away from her proper course.

She was running fast through the water--ten knots an hour at least--but was making great leeway. The strain on the weather-rigging was great; there every shroud, rope, and halyard were tight as iron wire, while to leeward they were all blown out in wavy bights and bends, especially at every lurch.

There was never a lull in the fierce gale, and, with every wave that burst against her bows, the _Hermione_ seemed to roll, or swerve, bodily off to leeward.

On this night poor Mr. Basset was in great mental misery, lest, amid the tempest, for to such the gale nearly amounted, the crew should put their nefarious designs in execution; but they had their hands too full of necessary work to find time for mischief then.

He twice ventured on deck, but, to the landsman's eye, the aspect of that wild, stormy sea, visible under a starry and cloudless sky, so appalled him, that each time he returned to the cabin with such visible signs of tremor or emotion, that Ethel, who had found the impossibility of sleeping, and had hastily thrown on her morning wrapper and shawl, joined him, and sat caressingly by his side.

Pale, anxious, and lovely she looked in her white-frilled dress; and now every sound on deck made her father start with agitation.

"Is the gale increasing, papa?" she asked, for the twentieth time.

"Undoubtedly it is--but the captain laughs at it, and says his ship is strong and stout."

"How soundly dear Rose sleeps amid all this hurly-burly."

"Bless the poor child--oh yes; but go to bed beside her, darling, we have little fear to-night--for the ship, at least."

"Have we aught to fear from the sea, papa?"

Mr. Basset did not reply.

"You are silent, papa," resumed Ethel, scanning his features keenly and affectionately, and patting his cheek with her delicate hand; "then there is some danger of which you do not tell me. Oh, papa, what is this you would conceal from me, who, I know, am all the world to you?"

"You are, indeed, all the world to me now, Ethel--you and Rose," replied the poor man, in a broken voice, as his eyes filled, and his heart swelled with uncontrollable anxiety and emotion; "but there, dear, there, kiss me, and go to bed; don't waken Rose--let the poor child sleep while she may."

And leading Ethel to her cabin, he pushed her gently in, and closing the door, lay down on the stern-locker to watch, but not to sleep.

This gale blew steadily for more than eight-and-forty hours, during which the _Hermione_ carried as little canvas as possible, yet she made so much leeway as to be blown far to the southward of the Cape--how far was known only to Captain Phillips and his two mates, Mr. Quail and Mr. Foster, as they had tacitly agreed to keep the crew in total ignorance of the ship's working or progress, hoping, by doing so, to delay, if they could not ultimately frustrate, any dark plans the intending mutineers had formed.

During all this gale, which showed no signs of abatement until the evening of the second day, Ethel and her sister remained in the cabin with old Nurse Folgate, who, with all her love for them, was deploring the moment of weakness in which she consented to leave the leafy seclusion of Acton-Rennel, "to go forth a-voyaging round the world, nobody knew to where."

Dr. Leslie Heriot found much to keep him below, too; and thus, by day and by night, according to the plan formed and already described, there was always at least one armed man guarding them and the cabin-door.

As for poor Mr. Basset, he never quitted the side of his daughters now, until he saw them into their little cabin for the night; and Ethel, who soon perceived her father's new solicitude and affectionate anxiety, was quite at a loss to understand what caused it.

None knew how the lots had fallen, or whose cast of the dice had been highest in the forecastle bunks of the _Hermione_; but many of her crew, when they came on deck, on the morning subsequent to the amiable discussion so luckily overheard by Dr. Heriot, bore unmistakable marks of a conflict, in the shape of blackened eyes, swollen noses, and, in more than one instance, a slash or stab from a knife.

Whatever were the ultimate intentions of these men, matters remained unchanged on board the ship, the duty of which was carried on excellently during the gale, for then every man did his duty readily and cheerfully, either by force of habit, or from the knowledge that to do so would save themselves much trouble and probable danger.

No doubt they deemed it better to wait for an opportunity after they were assured of being past the Cape, when they would seize the ship, and, as the doctor heard suggested, haul up for the Mozambique Channel, a very unwise idea on their part, as, in the narrow sea, they ran the imminent risk of being overhauled by some man-of-war, homeward bound, or transport full of troops--chances to be avoided in the open Indian Ocean.

The tempest had blown them to the westward, and also considerably to the southward of the Cape, which lies in latitude 33.5.42 South, and longitude 18.23.15 East. But the morning of the third day came in clear and calm; there was a gentle breeze from the eastward, and the ship was running close-hauled, with her port-tacks on board, and everything set upon her that would draw, even to triangular skysails and niaintopgallant staysails, so that her hull seemed a mere black speck under such a cloud of white canvas.

And the glorious morning sun cast her shadow far along the smooth ocean to the westward, as she cleft its waters swiftly and steadily with her gallant prow, from which a white female figure, representing the _Hermione_ of the classical age, the daughter of Venus and wife of Cadmus, with Vulcan's golden necklet round her slender throat, spread her graceful arms above the foam.

The fourth and fifth days after the gale were serene and lovely in the extreme.

There was scarcely need for the watch to rig the head-pump for the last three mornings; washed by the waves of the recent gale, the decks were white as snow, and not even a shred or thread of spunyarn could be seen about the wheels of the carronades, the coamings of the hatches, or the mouths of the scupper-holes.

Breakfast over, Rose and Ethel came on deck, and Doctor Heriot hastened after them with cushions, shawls, and wrappers, for the morning air in that extreme southern latitude was cold, though clear and bracing; even an iceberg was visible at the far and blue horizon to the westward, an object to which Heriot drew the attention of the sisters, and promptly arranged for them his telescope; but the fair voyagers had become quite used to such things, so Ethel betook herself to a novel, and Rose began a piece of crochet (which seemed like the web of Penelope) in expectation that her lover would sit by and converse with her.

Both seemed paler than usual, in consequence of the few days' confinement below. Their father was anxious still, and the poor man continued to linger about them, to hover near them, and instinctively his trembling hand felt for the loaded revolver he carried in secret, if one of the crew came near his daughters, and his heart beat quicker if even one glanced to them, for in him he suspected the winner by the dice-box of the two abhorred Barradas.

Hawkshaw, whom the young doctor's steady attentions to the sisters galled and fretted, was up in the fore-rigging, somewhere, looking out for a sail, as no one on board longed for the appearance of a ship of war more than he did; so he kept one eye on the horizon, and another on the quarter-deck, where Ethel and Rose were seated, chatting and laughing.

Heriot had carefully examined, capped, and charged anew his revolver, and placed it in his breast-pocket before he joined them, so the crew very little suspected how completely all their superiors were forewarned and forearmed.

The two girls looked, if possible, lovelier than ever on this, as it will prove in the sequel, eventful morning, by a species of delicate pallor induced by the close atmosphere of the cabin; and as young Heriot gazed into their clear, full, earnest eyes, a fierce, high spirit swelled up in his heart, and he almost rejoiced that the terrible circumstances in which they were placed, sailing as it were with a volcano on board, would give him an opportunity of showing how dearly he loved Rose Basset, how willing he was to dare, alas! it might be to die for her!

Not that he would gain much by the last move, as reflection showed, and die he might, perhaps, by the hands of some of those ruffians, before she could be succoured and protected, and then there was acute agony in the contemplation of what she might endure when he could neither see nor avenge it.

"Look, Ethel dear," Rose suddenly exclaimed with girlish delight, "there is a great swan asleep on the water."

"A swan here?" queried Ethel.

"It is an albatross," said the doctor, smiling, "and sleeping sound enough, certainly. I could almost toss a biscuit on his back."

There, not twelve yards distant from the ship's side, on the smooth surface of the sea, was a great albatross, with plumage white as snow--a bird whose pinions may have measured twelve feet from tip to tip--fast asleep, and floating with his huge head under his wing.

Slowly he was upheaved upon each huge glassy swell, and slowly he sank down into the glassy vale between them, sleeping, as Ethel said, just as she had seen the swans on Acton Mere at home, and now this lonely bird was perhaps 300 miles from land.

When first descried he was upon the weather-bow, and now he was upon the lee quarter, so rapidly the ship left far astern this great bird of the "Ancient Mariner," enjoying his nap, all undisturbed, upon the morning sea.

Hawkshaw, who was pretty far up the fore-rigging, now drew the attention of some of the crew, who were at work upon the foreyard, greasing the sling thereof, reeving new bunt-lines to the foot of the foretopsail, &c., to a small dark object that was floating on the water at a great distance, and the discussion that ensued about it soon caught the attention of the anxious and active Mr. Quail, who was standing at the break of the quarter-deck, for the _Hermione_ had a species of half poop, so he descended into the waist and hailed the talkers.

"Fore-top there!"

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Bill Badger and Zuares Barradas.

"Do you see anything, that you keep such a bright look-out to leeward, eh?'

"Yes, sir; there is something in sight," replied Zuares.

"Something; well, what is it?"

"The head o' the great sea-sarpent, I rayther reckons it to be," replied Bill Badger, impudently; "I sees his row o' grinders standing up above the water."

"Grinders, you Yankee swab," responded Mr. Quail (under his breath, however, for the fid-maul and a couple of iron marlinespikes were lying in the foretop, and one of these might fall out of it, by accident); "what you call grinders are the timber-heads of a piece of wreck--if not, I am as green as a cabbage! A piece of wreck in sight to leeward, sir," he reported down the skylight to Captain Phillips, who came promptly on deck, telescope in hand.

"Whereabouts, Mr. Quail?"

"There, sir; you can see it now under the leach of the forecourse, when the ship rises--can you make it out?'

"Wreck it is, Quail; the taffrail and sternpost of a vessel. Ease her off a bit, Pedro; edge down towards it," said the captain to the elder Barradas, whose strong hands grasped the handsome, brass-mounted wheel of the _Hermione_; "we are raising it fast."

"If there ain't men a-clinging to it, I'm a Dutchman!" shouted Badger, from the foretop.

"The fellow is right," said Phillips, politely passing his glass to Mr. Basset; "human figures are visible on it. Ready the lee quarter boat, there--clear the fall tackles; keep her on a little just as she is, Mr. Quail, and then back with the mainyard."

All the crew crowded to the leeside of the deck now, and their entire attention was riveted on the piece of drifting wreck which lay like a log in the water; but towards which they were rapidly bearing down.

Ere long, four men could be distinctly seen upon it, but whether alive or dead none could say with certainty, though all surmised the latter, as they made neither sign nor hail, but remained still, mute, and passive as the timber-heads to which they were lashed, and which rose and fell, slowly and sullenly, amid the sunny ripples of that calm morning sea.