Peggy Owen Patriot Part 34

The early part of the voyage was extremely fortunate. The sea was smooth, the sky clear, the air sharp but kindly. To Peggy's surprise she was not at all sick, and her spirits rose in spite of her sorrow at her separation from her mother. With the closing in of the night of the fourth day out, however, they fell in with foul winds and heavy weather.

The wind began to whirl, and the sea to lift itself and dash spray over the schooner until the decks were as gla.s.sy as a skating pond. The temperature fell rapidly. All day Sunday the ships went on under this sort of weather which was not at all unusual for the time of year, but the next day the weather began to quiet, and the waves sank gradually to a long swell through which the vessels went with ease.

The whole surface of the sea was like a great expanse of molten silver which shimmered and sparkled under the rays of the wintry sun. The prospect was now for a smooth voyage, and the sailormen sc.r.a.ped the ice from rail and deck, and the pa.s.sengers who had been confined to the cabin now came on deck and raced about like children under the influence of the pure air. The sky was very clear above, but all around the horizon a low haze lay upon the water.

"Isn't this glorious, Peggy?" cried Harriet dancing about the deck like a wind sprite. "After all, there is nothing like the sea."

"'Tis wonderful," answered Peggy with awe in her tone. The vast spread of the waters, the immensity of the sky, the intense silence through which the creaking of the boats as they swung at the davits, and the straining of the shrouds as the ship rolled sounded loud and clear, all appealed to her sense of the sublime.

"I hope 'twill be as fine as this all the way to Georgia," said Harriet.

"And that seems to be the prospect."

The captain of the vessel, a bluff Englishman, was pa.s.sing at the moment and caught the last remark. He paused beside the maidens.

"It won't be fine long," he declared gruffly. "With a ground swell and a sinking temperature always look for squalls. Look there at the north!"

The haze on the horizon to the north was rather thicker than elsewhere, and a few thin streaky clouds straggled across the clear, cold heavens.

It told nothing to the girls, but the skipper's face grew grave, and he hurried forward to give some commands.

"Furl topsails!" he shouted to the mate, "and have the mainsails reefed down!"

"Ay, ay, sir," came the response, and instantly the men began hauling at the halliards, or sprang to the yards above to tuck away the great sails making all snug for the coming storm.

Even Peggy, unused to the sea as she was, could see that a storm was about to burst upon them. The north was now one great rolling black cloud with an angry ragged fringe which bespoke the violence of the wind that drove it. The whole great ma.s.s was sweeping onward with majestic rapidity, darkening the ocean beneath it.

"Get below there," shouted the captain as he suddenly caught sight of the two girls still standing on deck watching the approach of the storm with fascinated eyes. "Get below, I say! D'ye want to be blowed away?

Here she comes!"

As he spoke the wind broke in all its fury. The schooner heeled over until her lee rail touched the water, and lay so for a moment in a smother of foam. Gradually she rose a little, staggered and trembled like a living thing, and then plunged away through the storm.

It was a wild and dreary night that followed. Shut in the dark of the cabin Peggy and Harriet clung to each other, or to lockers, to keep from being dashed across the floor of the tossing vessel. All night long there was no chance for sleep. Every moment it seemed as though the ship must go down at the next onslaught of the waves.

"I like not to be mewed up like this," objected Harriet when there came a chance for speech. "I like the feel of the wind and the hail and the spray."

"Is thee not afraid, Harriet?" questioned Peggy.

"I am, down here," answered her cousin. "I can stand any danger best that I can face. But they will not let us up. We might be swept away even if we could stand. And listen to the shouts, Peggy. There must be something amiss."

And so on all through the long night. The dawn broke at last and brought with it a slight abatement of the tempest, but with the lessening gale came a new form of a.s.sault. The air was colder. A heavy fog rolled up and through it came a blinding snow-storm, fairly choking the deck of the ship.

For three days the girls were confined to the cabin, with but biscuits to nibble on. The fourth the wind fell at last, leaving the vessel rudderless and dismasted, and heaving on vast billows.

"There is but one hope for us," said Colonel Owen as he explained the damage to the girls, "and that is to be picked up by another vessel."

"Is it so bad as that, father?" questioned his daughter.

"Yes," he answered gloomily.

But over the inky shroud of the ocean white capped and furious there shone no sign of a sail. The snow had ceased falling, but it was bitterly cold. The fifth and sixth days they tossed helplessly, but on the seventh day Peggy turned to her cousin with a startled query.

"Harriet," she cried, "does thee hear that throbbing sound? What is it?"

Harriet Owen paled as she listened. "That, Peggy," she said after a moment, "is the noise of the pumps. The ship hath sprung a leak."

At this moment Colonel Owen came from the deck. He was visibly pale, and much troubled in manner. "Wrap yourselves as warmly as possible," he advised them. "'Tis but a question of time now ere we must take to the boats, and there is no telling to what ye may be subjected before reaching land, if in truth we ever tread foot on solid ground again.

Hasten!"

His warning was well timed; for, as he ceased speaking, there came hoa.r.s.e shouts from above, a rush of hurrying feet, and the chugging of the pumps stopped. He ran up the hatchway, and was back almost instantly. "The boats are being lowered," he informed them. "Throw what you can about you and come. If we dally we may be left behind. Men become beasts in a time like this."

The girls obeyed him with the utmost haste. They were both colorless, but composed. On deck a wild scene was being enacted. The ship no longer rose to the waves, and even to an inexperienced eye was settling. That it was time to lower the boats was plain to be seen. The captain was trying to preserve something like order among the crew, but the hour for discipline had gone by.

"Women first," he was crying in trumpet tones. "Men, remember your wives and daughters. Would ye have them left as ye are leaving these?"

But over the side of the vessel the men scrambled with fierce cries and imprecations, paying no heed either to his commands or pleadings. They swarmed into the boats, fighting for places like wild animals. The frail barks went down to the water loaded until the gunwales were lapped by the smallest waves. The skipper turned to Colonel Owen.

"The dingey is left, sir," he said. "If you will help me to defend it from the rest of these brutes, we may be able to get these girls into it."

"I will do my utmost," rejoined the colonel. "Harriet, do you and Peggy stand behind me. When the boat is lowered be ready to get into it as soon as the captain speaks."

Colonel Owen faced the few remaining men with drawn pistols as the boat was let down. The first mate took his place, and stood ready to receive the maidens.

"Go, Harriet," said her father. But to Peggy's amazement her cousin turned to her, crying, "You first, Peggy! You first!"

"But," cried Peggy her heart flooded with sudden warmth at this unlooked-for solicitude, "I cannot leave thee, Harriet. I--"

"Stop that nonsense!" exclaimed Colonel Owen gruffly. "We have no time for it. Get into the boat at once."

Without further comment Peggy permitted herself to be handed down into the boat, and as she reached it in safety she looked expectantly up for Harriet to follow. At that moment came a hoa.r.s.e cry from the skipper.

"Cast off, Mr. Davy! Cast off! You'll be swamped."

The mate pulled away just as half a dozen frantic seamen leaped from the deck toward the boat. The swirl of the waters caught it, turning it round and round by the force. With a great effort he succeeded in sending it out of the eddy just in time to avoid being drawn under by the drowning seamen. Again making a strenuous effort to get beyond their reach he sent the dingey scudding to westward, was caught by a current, and carried further away from the vessel.

"What is it?" asked Peggy as she caught a glimpse of his whitening face.

"G.o.d help them," broke from him. "We are caught in the current and can't get back to the 'Falcon.'"

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DINGEY WAS CAUGHT BY A CURRENT]

CHAPTER XXVII-A HAVEN AFTER THE STORM

"Safe through the war her course the vessel steers, The haven gained, the pilot drops his fears."

-Shirley.

"We must," burst from Peggy, springing up wildly. "Oh, friend, can't thee do something? We must not leave them."