Midnight Webs Part 24

Last of all, what I was afraid of happened--the wind changed, and it came on to blow a little. It was nothing more than a pleasant fresh breeze, but enough to make the sea dance a bit, and the old Sea-mew to roll and pitch, so that I was obliged to have a man at the wheel, and a bit of sail set, to keep her out of the trough; but handle her how I would, I couldn't keep the water out, and the question got to be, how long could we wait without taking to the raft? And another question was, too, how long could we keep to the raft without being washed off?

Thinking of this made me rig lines round it, and give an extra lashing here and there just where I could.

The next day, there was not a doubt about what our duty was; and getting the raft round to the lee quarter, we lowered Miss Bell down, and then made ready to join her; when, more from use than anything, I ran up the rigging to take a sweep round, when--I could hardly believe my eyes-- there was a brig bearing down under easy canvas, and not three miles off! We were so busy, or we must have seen her before. Howsoever, my first act now was to hoist a signal; and then, there being no time to lose, I got aboard the raft, being last man to leave the vessel; and we hoisted a bit of sail, and made towards the brig.

We had not left the Mew a minute too soon, for just as we had got about two hundred yards away, a squall took her, and she bent right over, righted, careened again, and then settled rapidly down, and was gone.

We were all so taken up with the sight, that, for a moment, we forgot the brig, and when we turned to her again, she was bearing away. I thought that she had seen our ship, when we hoisted the signal; but, from her acts, this could not have been the case, and now every second she was increasing her distance. We shouted, we yelled, and hoisted a handkercher, on the end of a boat-hook; but she did not see us; and gradually we saw sail after sail dip down out of sight, and we were once more all alone on the great ocean.

If we had seen no ship, I should not have cared; but this seemed such tantalising, despairing work, and but for Miss Bell, I should have been about ready to give up.

That night I was sitting steering our lubberly craft, when Miss Bell came and sat beside me, and, after being silent for some time, she points out seaward, and asks me if what she saw was a star.

I looked at it for a few minutes, for I hardly dared to answer at first; but I felt sure directly after, as I told her it was, and a bright one for us, being a ship's lantern.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

Soon after sunrise next morning, we were laughing, crying, and acting as bad as that there fat pa.s.senger, for we were aboard a large ship, whose light had shone out like a star of hope for us; and when they picked us up, I found that the vessel was bound for Sydney.

But our pleasure did not last long, for what with the exposure and excitement, Miss Bell broke down, and next day she was so far from being in safety that she was in a raging fever.

Perhaps I may be right, perhaps wrong; but measuring things as I saw them, it has always struck me that, true-hearted man as he was, Mr Ward would never have won his wife after all, if it had not been for that fever; but it must have been a fine thing for him, being the only doctor within reach, to have to tend on her, and most likely save her life.

It was in after-years that I saw them happily settled in Wellington; and as they had me seated there between them, they seemed to treat me quite as an old friend, as we went over together the old days, and Mr Ward told me laughingly how hard a fight he had had to win his wife.

We talked long over our old troubles; and I had news for them of some of the mutineers--of how I had learned that one boat had been picked up, with the crew's story written on their faces, for they had suffered horribly before they were saved from certain death. As for the other boat, it was never heard of more.

I had news for them, too, of Mr Tomt.i.t, whom I had seen in the street just before I left England on that cruise. He had shaken me heartily by the hand, just as if I was his equal, and taken me home to show me the collection of birds he was about to ship, with a lot of what he called baby-salmon, for Sydney. He was still a bachelor, and pressed me hard to go and see him again, and wanted me to stay dinner then; but my time was short, and I had to say good-bye, though not till I had asked if he had seen any more of the fat pa.s.senger. Mr Tomt.i.t then told me that he had been to England, and called to see him, and shed tears when he said good-bye. I said it myself now; but he made me stop for a gla.s.s of grog, and a half-hour's chat about our perils aboard the Sea-mew.

STORY THREE: UNDER THE TREE-FERNS.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER ONE.

PORT CAROLINE.

A few notes of preparation, a few words of command, and, grouped together in the fore-part of a large barque, bearing the unromantic t.i.tle of the Sarah Ann, the sailors stood ready to let go the emblem of Hope--the anchor that had held them fast in many a stormy night of peril. The sails flapped and fluttered in that gentle gale; the tall masts swayed here and there as the graceful vessel rose with the grand swell of the Southern Ocean; and then there was a loud rattle as the chain-cable rushed out, while the great anchor plunged down fathoms deep in the bright blue waters; then, down lower and lower, to where bright-scaled fish of rainbow-tinted armour darted over the golden sands of the sunny South. Not the sunny South sung by poets; but the far-off land, where it is midday at our midnight, and the settlers--with many a thought, though, of the old home--shear their sheep, and gather in their harvest, while we sit round the cheery winter's fire.

After a long and tedious voyage, the vessel had arrived in safety at her destination. There was the bright land, the beautiful bay dotted with vessels at anchor, and the brilliant sun. Ah, who need have felt the heartache at leaving England on a dark and misty morning, when so bright a country was ready to receive him? But it was not _home_.

There was bustle and excitement amongst the pa.s.sengers to get ash.o.r.e; so that it was hard work for Edward Murray, first mate, to have all made snug and shipshape, after the fashion taught in the navy, which he had left to enter the merchant-service. But, by degrees, the hurry gave place to comparative calm, and men leisurely coiled down ropes, and reduced the deck to something like order.

The captain had been rowed ash.o.r.e almost before they dropped anchor; and at last there was nothing left for the mate to do but patiently await his return, before making arrangements for having the vessel towed closer up into the harbour of Port Caroline.

He leaned over the bulwarks--a handsome ruddy young Englishman of eight-and-twenty; and as he quietly puffed at his cigar, he watched the boats going and coming; noticed the pleasant villas of the merchants, dotted about the high ground behind the bay; gave an eye to the trim sloop-of-war on his right, and then to the blank-looking buildings of the convict station, from whose stony-looking wharves a large cutter was just being rowed out towards the sloop. There was the flash of a bayonet now and then in the stern-sheets, and the white belts and red coats of more than one soldier was plainly observable to the mate, as he gazed on the boat with some display of interest.

As he still leaned over the bulwarks, the boat was seen to reach the sloop-of-war, to stay alongside awhile, and then to return, heavily laden, towards the sh.o.r.e.

"Nice freight that, Ned," said the second mate. "Old England ought to grow clean in time, sending out such cargoes as she does. I wonder how many they have here. Can't say I should like to have them for neighbours."

"Not pleasant, certainly," said the other; "but here's the skipper back."

"I shall not go ash.o.r.e again till to-morrow morning," said the captain, coming on deck; "and if either of you want a few hours, settle it between yourselves who's to go; and the other can see the rest of the pa.s.sengers' traps ash.o.r.e. I shall sail to-morrow evening. We can do the rest of our business when we come back from the bay."

The captain then went below; and after a short consultation, Edward Murray undertook two or three commissions, stepped into the boat, and was rowed ash.o.r.e.

Any place looks pleasant after months on shipboard; but in reality, though charming enough from the deck of a ship, there was little to be seen fifty years ago at Port Caroline beyond the houses of a straggling little town, built without regard to regularity, but according to the fancy of the owner of each plot of land. It was busy enough, so far as it went; but there was a grim cold look about the place, made worse by the princ.i.p.al buildings--those connected with the Government convict works; and after making a few purchases, Edward Murray strolled out along the sh.o.r.e to where the white breakers came foaming in to dash upon the sands.

The sloop had apparently discharged her convict freight; and the young man stood and looked at her for a while in deep thought.

He was thinking he should like to command a vessel like that. "But then," he sighed to himself, "how about Katie?" And he walked on, musing in no unhappy way.

"Now, boys--heel and toe!" shouted a rough voice.

"Hooroar! heel and toe!" was sounded in chorus; and from a turn in the cliff came slowly into sight about five-and-twenty of as ill-looking ruffians as ever walked the face of the earth. They were marching slowly, in a single line, and at the veriest snail's pace.

There was every description of crime-marked aspect--sullen despair, with boisterous and singing men; but as the slow march continued, one struck up a kind of chant, in which all joined, greatly to the annoyance of a sergeant of foot, who, with four privates, with fixed bayonets, formed the escort.

"It's all right, sojer!" shouted one. "Heel and toe!"

"Hullo, sailor!" shouted another. "Here, mates; here's a chap out of that barque. How's mother country, old 'un?"

"Come; get on, men," said the sergeant, keeping a sharp look-out for evaders.

The mate did not answer the fellow, but coolly stopped to watch the strange procession pa.s.s; for he rightly judged it to be a gang of convicts returning from work.

"I'd give two days and a half for that half cigar you're smoking, guv'ner," said one of the convicts to the young sailor.

And then, as the gang moved on, a dark sun-browned fellow came abreast, and observed quietly, as one gentleman might to another:

"Have you another cigar about you, sir?"

Edward Murray started, and then turned on his heel, and walked beside the speaker.

"I really have not another," he said hastily; "but here's some tobacco;"

and he thrust a large packet he had but an hour before bought into the man's hand.

"Thanks--thanks!" said the convict. "You can't think what a treat it will be. I may be able to do you a good turn for it some day, Ned Murray."

The young man started, and would have spoken to the convict; but the sergeant laid his hand upon his arm.

"Won't do, sir; I should get into trouble. We wink at a good deal; but we must draw the line somewhere. Now, men, forward!"

Edward Murray drew back, and nodded his acquiescence in the sergeant's remarks as the gang slowly pa.s.sed on along the beach; then trying in vain to call to mind who could be the speaker who so well knew his name, he turned to go on board.

"I'll give it up," said the young man at last; "it's beyond me. I've a friend more, though, in the world than I thought for. Friend? Hum!