Half A Chance, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  A MESSAGE TO THE ADMIRALTY

  The following night, Captain Macpherson in his cabin, rolled upcarefully the chart he had been scanning, deposited it in a coppercylinder and drew from his pocket a small pipe. As he filled and lightedit, exhaling the smoke of the black weed and leaning more comfortablyback in his low, swinging chair, the expression of his iron countenanceexhibited, in the slightest degree, that solace which comes from thenicotine. Occasionally, however, he would hold his pipe away from hismouth, to pause and listen. The weather had turned nasty again; above,the wind sounded loudly. Now it descended on the ship like afierce-scolding virago, then rushed on with wild, shrieking dissonance.The _Lord Nelson_ minded not, but continued steadily on her way.

  Her captain emptied his pipe, glanced toward his bunk and started totake off his coat. Human nature has its limit; he had passed manysleepless nights and now felt entitled to a brief respite, especially asthe chart showed neither reef nor rock anywhere in the neighborhood. Buthe had only one arm out of the garment when something happened thatcaused him to change his mind; abruptly hurled to the other end of thecabin, he found himself lying, half-stunned, on the floor. A hubbub ofnoises filled the air, snappings, crashings, the rending of woodwork.

  Captain Macpherson staggered to his feet, and, swaying like a drunkenman, stood a few moments holding his hand to his brow. Then his fistclenched and he shook it at the cylinder that had fallen from the table.

  "Ye viperous, lying thing!" he cried, and ran from the cabin to thedeck.

  A single glance told all: two of the ship's giant spars had gone by theboard; entangled in her own wreckage, the vessel thumped and poundedwith ominous violence against some sunken reef. The full scope of theplight of the once noble ship was plainly made manifest. Though thickstreams of scud sped across the sky, the southern moon at the momentlooked down between two dark rivulets, and cast its silvery glow like alime-light, over the spectacle. Captain Macpherson groaned.

  "Mr. O'Brien!" he called loudly.

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  "How long do you give her?"

  "Half an hour, sir."

  The master shook his head. "She'll nae last that long." And holding to astanchion, he seemed like a man in a dream.

  "Any orders, sir?" asked the chief mate.

  Captain Macpherson recovered himself; his tone became once more quickand incisive. "Ye're right; I'm gone daffy. We'll get this business overin a decorous and decent manner. And, Mr. O'Brien--lest I have nae timeto speak of it later--should ye get ashore, and ever find yourself inthe neighborhood o' Piccadilly, be so gude as to drop into the admiraltyoffice and say Captain Macpherson sends his compliments, and--to thediel with their charts!"

  "I'll not forget, sir!" A number of orders followed.

  As the chief mate disappeared to execute the commands he had received,the harsh noises of the breaking ship, the seething of the sea abouther, the flapping of canvas, like helpless broken wings, wassupplemented by a babel of new and terrifying sounds, the screaming andcursing of the convicts below, their blasphemous shrieking to be letout! To this turmoil and uproar were added the frantic appeals andinquiries of the passengers who, more or less dressed, had hurried tothe deck and who were now speaking to the master of the ill-starredvessel. He answered them briefly: what could be done, would be done.

  "It's a question of the boats, I suppose?" Sir Charles, one of thecalmest of the ship's cabin party, asked quickly.

  "In ten minutes they'll be ready for the launching with nae lack ofwater and provision. Get plenty of wraps and greatcoats. It'll be a bitdisagreeable, nae doubt, out yon in the wee craft!"

  "Wee craft!" The voice of the governor's lady--she was clinging to herhusband's arm--rose shrilly. "You surely are not going to send us outthere in one of these miserable cockleshells?"

  "M'love!" Sir Charles expostulated mildly drawing her closer as hespoke, "it's the only chance, and--" Then to the captainhalf-apologetically--"She'll meet it with me, as she has met dangerbefore, in the bush, like a true English-woman! But what," indicatingthe convicts' deck, "what about them? It seems inhuman, yet if they werelet out--"

  "They must not be!" Lord Ronsdale's metallic voice interposed quickly."I call upon you, Captain Macpherson, in the name of the women andchildren--"

  "I've thought about that," said Captain Macpherson shortly, and turnedto his task.

  The boat was soon overhauled, the lockers and water-butt were filled,and the passengers, one by one, set into it. On the whole, at thatmoment for leaving the ship, their conduct left little room forcriticism; one or two of the women who had appeared on the verge ofhysterics now restrained audible manifestation of emotion. Sir Charlesproved a monument of helpfulness; assisted in placing the women here andthere, and extended a helpful hand to Lord Ronsdale, who had becomesomewhat dazed and inert. Total darkness added to the difficulties oftheir task, for the moon which until then had shone with much luster nowwent behind a curtain of cloud. But Captain Macpherson coolly called outby name the men to handle the life-boat, and, with no evidence ofdisorder, they crowded in, none too soon! As the boat with its humanfreight hung in readiness for the lowering, the remaining spar of the_Lord Nelson_ fell with a mighty crash.

  "Remember the name of your ship, lads!" Captain Macpherson's voiceseemed to anticipate a movement of panic among the seamen on deck; ifthere had been any intention to "rush" the already well-loaded boat, itwas stayed. "Mr. Gillett, I'll be troubling ye for the keys to theconvicts' deck. Mr. O'Brien, get in and take charge. Steer southeastwith a bit of rag; it's your best chance to get picked up. Hold near theship until the other boat with the crew can come alongside. It's as wellto keep company. Are the lines clear? Let her go."

  The boat was lowered and at the right moment touched a receding wave.Captain Macpherson waited until the chief officer called out that theywere safely away, then gave his last order:

  "And now, lads, ye can be lookin' to yourselves!"

  They did; the master turned and with some difficulty made his way towardthe convicts' cells. Her decks soon deserted, the ship, like a living,writhing thing, seemed to struggle and groan, as if every timber werecrying out in vain protest against the tragic consummation. But only anirrevocable voice answered, that of the mocking sea beating harder, thecruel sea, spotted here and there with black patches between whichsplashes of light revealed the wild waves throwing high their curd inthe cold, argent glimmer. One of these illuminating dashes, as if in aspirit of irony, moved toward the ship, almost enveloped it and showedsuddenly a number of mad, leaping human figures issuing with horriblecries from one of the hatches.

  "The life rafts! Old man said the boats were gone."

  "Rafts good enough for the likes of us, eh? Well, he's paid for keepingus down so long. Blime if I don't think Slick Sam killed him."

  "The rafts!" Shrieking, calling down maledictions on the captain, theyran about, when suddenly an angry black wave swept the deck; a few wentoverboard with the hissing crest; several were hurled against thebulwarks, limp, lifeless things, swirled back and forth. One of theirnumber, a big fellow of unusual strength, was shot toward the opencompanionway leading to the main cabin; as he plunged down, he clutchedat and caught the railing. Considerably shaken, dripping with water, hepulled himself together, and, raising a face, sodden and fierce, like abeast brought to bay, he looked around him. The light of one or twoswinging lamps that had not yet been shattered revealed dimly thesurroundings, the dark leather upholstering, the little tables.Uncertainly the convict paused; then suddenly his eyes brightened; thelustful anticipation of the drunkard who had long been denied shone fromhis gaze as it rested on a sideboard across the cabin.

  "Bottles!" he said, steadying himself. "Rum! Well, I guess there ain'tmuch chance for any of us, and a man's a fool to go to hell thirsty!" Hehad started toward the sideboard with its bright gleaming ware and itsdivers and sundry receptacles of spirits and liqueurs, when suddenly hislook changed, and his jaw fell.

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sp; "What the--" A flow of choice Billingsgate, mingled with the sailor'sequally eloquent Golden-Gate, completed the sentence. The convict stoodstock-still.

  From the door of a state-room at the far end of the cabin a figureappeared. A great shawl draped the small form; the golden hair, a flurryof tangles, floated around it. Clinging to a brass rail that ran alongthe side of the cabin, she approached, her eyes all alight as if wellsatisfied with something. Amazed beyond power of action, the mancontinued to gaze at her, at the tiny feet in the little pink slippers,at something she carried. "By the great horn spoon, the Christmas doll!"he muttered hoarsely. Then forgetting his purpose, the bottles, helurched quickly toward her.

  "Wat you doin' here?" he demanded.

  "I slipped out," said the child, holding the rail tighter, as perforceshe paused to answer. "I thought it would take only a moment."

  "Slipped out?" he repeated.

  "Of the life-boat, I mean. It was dark and they didn't see me. I justhappened to think, and I had to do it. If I'd told them, they mightn'thave let me. It would have been very wicked if I'd gone away andforgotten--don't you think so? And now I'm going back! Only I am afraidI've been longer than I thought I would be. The door of my state-roomseemed to stick, and I was a few minutes getting it open."

  Beneath disheveled masses of thick dark hair, the brutish face continuedto study the fairylike one; for the instant words seemed to fail him."Do ye mean," he observed, "you come back here for that measlydicky-bird?"

  "It isn't 'measly' and it isn't a 'dicky-bird!'" she answeredindignantly. "And I'll thank you not to call it that. It's a love-bird,and its name is Dearie!"

  "'Dearie'! Ho! Ho!" The ship reeled at a dangerous angle, but theconvict appeared not to notice; his voice rose in harsh, irresistiblerough merriment. "'Dearie'! And she thanks me not to call it names! It!No bigger'n my thumb! Ho! Ho!" His laughter, strange at such a moment,died abruptly. "Do you know what you've gone and done on account ofwhat's in that cage?" he demanded almost fiercely. "You've got left!"

  "Left?" said she blankly, shrinking from him a little. "You don'tmean--oh, I thought I would be only a minute! They haven't really gone,and--"

  The great fingers closed on her arm. "They've gone and the crew's gone!Both boats are gone!"

  "Oh!" The big blue eyes widened on him; an inkling of her plight seemedto come over her; her lips trembled, but she held herself bravely. "Youmean--we must drown?"

  The thunder of seas breaking on the deck answered; a cascade of waterdashed down the companionway and swept round them. The man bent towardthe child. "Look a' that! Now ain't ye sorry ye come back?"

  "I couldn't leave it to drown!" passionately--"couldn't!--couldn't!"

  "Blow me, she's game!" With difficulty he maintained his equilibrium."See here: maybe there's a chance, if any of them's left to help withthe raft. But we've got to git out o' this!"

  He passed his hand through her arm, awaited a favorable moment, andthen, making a dash for the stairs, drew her, as best he might, to thedeck. At the head of the companionway, the wind smote them fiercely withsheets of foam, but his strength stood him in good stead, and bracinghimself hard, the man managed to maintain his stand; holding the childclose to him, he sheltered her somewhat from the full force of thestorm. As he cast his glance over the deck, an oath burst from his lips;the convicts had succeeded in launching one of the rafts and leaving theship by means of it, or else had been carried away by the seas. Ofliving man, he caught no sight; only a single one of the dead yetremained, sliding about on the slippery planks with the movement of theship; now to leeward, now rushing in a contrary direction, as if somegrotesque spirit of life yet animated the dark, shapeless form.

  From wave-washed decks the man's glance turned to the sea; suddenly hestarted; his eyes straining, he stared hard. "Maybe they've missed you.One of the ship's boats seems headin' this way!"

  Her gaze followed his; at intervals through driving spray a small craftcould be discerned, not far distant, now riding high on a crest, nowvanishing in a black furrow.

  "Are they coming back to save us?" asked the child.

  The convict did not answer. Could the boat make the ship, could it hopeto, in that sea? It was easier getting away than getting back. Besides,the opportunity for a desperate, heroic attempt to come alongside wasnot to be given her, for scarcely had they caught sight of her, when thestern of the _Lord Nelson_, now filled with water from the inflow at thebow, began to settle more rapidly. Then came a frightful wrenching andthe vessel seemed to break in two.

  "Put yer arms round my neck," said the man, stooping.

  She put one of them around; with the other held up the cage. He openedthe door of the wickerwork prison and a tiny thing flew out. Then hestraightened. Both arms were around him now.

  "'Fraid?" he whispered hoarsely.

  The child shook her head.

  An instant he waited, then launched himself forward. Buffeted hither andthither, he made a fierce fight for the rail, reached it, and leaped farout into the seething waters.

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