The Case and the Girl Part 26

"Quick," he cried. "You knew this yacht; what small boats did she carry?"

"Only the one; the other was so warped it had been taken ash.o.r.e."

"Only one! Those fellows put off in that. There was nothing else to save life aboard?"

"There are life-belts here; see, hung to the front of the cabin. Was that what you meant?"

"Yes, and no." He s.n.a.t.c.hed one from the hook, and hastily strapped it about her. "These may help, but we shall need more. Was there no life-raft? My G.o.d! there must surely be something of that kind."

"Yes, there is; I remember now. It is forward there, near the engine-room hatch. Percival Coolidge explained to me how it worked once. But--but I don't believe just the two of us could ever launch it over the rail."

"We will, because we must--it is our only hope. I'll take the other belt; now come. We haven't an instant to waste--the water is even now almost level with the deck; any second we may be awash, and go down like a stone. Hold on tight to me."

The deck was already sloping to port in a dangerous degree, and West was compelled to cling to the rail, as they slowly made pa.s.sage forward through the darkness. Their eyes had by then adapted themselves to the night, so as to distinguish larger objects, and, as there was no litter to encounter, as in the case of a ship wrecked by storm, the two progressed safely as far as the engine-hatch. Neither spoke, but West still clasped the hatchet, peering anxiously about for some signs of the life-raft. He located it at last, securely fastened to the side of the deck house, and, leaving the girl to hold herself upright as best she could, began to hack it loose. It was quite an affair, cork-lined, and evidently capable of sustaining considerable weight when once launched in the water, but c.u.mbersome and hard to handle on deck, more particularly because of its awkward form.

Fortunately it hung to the port side with a rather steep slant to the rail, which was not high. The waters of the lake, threatening to engulf them with every sodden roll of the vessel, were almost within reach of an outstretched hand, while occasionally a wave danced along the bulwark, and scattered its spray over the deck. West, working with feverish impatience, realized suddenly that his companion had deserted the place where he had left her and was also tugging and slashing at the lashings of the raft. These finally yielded to their blind attack. Without the exchange of a word the two grasped the sides and shoved the thing hard down against the port rail.

"Wait now," he cried exultantly. "Stay behind, and brace yourself against the hatch-cover. I'll get underneath and lift. Once on the rail the two of us must shove it free overboard. Here, keep a grip on this line, so the raft can't float away."

She understood instantly, and, with a single swift glance at her dimly revealed figure, West straightened up, bearing the full weight on his shoulders, every muscle strained to the utmost, as he thus pressed it over inch by inch across the wooden barrier. Twice he stopped, breathless, trembling in every limb, seemingly unable to exert another pound of strength. Perspiration dripped from his face, his teeth clinched in desperate determination. At the second pause, she was beside him, pressing her way in also beneath the sagging burden. He felt the pressure of her body.

"No, no; I can make it alone," he panted indignantly.

"Not so well as we both can, working together. I am strong, Captain West.

Try it again now, and see."

Suddenly the great unwieldy ma.s.s moved, slid forward, poised itself an instant on the rounded rail. The yacht rolled sharply to port, flinging both on to the deck together, but sending the raft crunching overboard, clear of the side. West grasped her, and dragged her to her feet. His one thought was that they were actually going down, but, even as he held her in his arms, ready to leap out into the black water, the shuddering vessel, with a last despairing effort, partially righted herself, and staggered on.

"The rope," he questioned. "Did you lose grip on the rope?"

"No, it is here. I can feel the jerk of the raft."

"Thank G.o.d for that; let's pull it closer to the side. We can't wait to take anything with us; even if I knew where provision and blankets were, I could never find them in this darkness. I would not dare leave you to search; another dip like that must be the very last. Here, let me hold you up; can you see the raft?"

"Yes; I'm sure it is just below; why I could almost touch it."

"Can you jump to it from the rail? It is either that, or the water. Are you afraid to try?"

"Afraid--no. Hold me; yes; that way, but--but what are you going to do?"

"Follow, of course; but I shall take to the water. There are no oars here. Nothing to use as a subst.i.tute for them. I'll have to swim, and push that old ark as far away as possible. When the yacht goes down, the suction is liable to swamp us, if we are close in."

"But I can swim, Captain West."

"I am glad to know that; but now you do just as I say. There is no necessity for both of us getting wet through. Are you ready?"

She poised herself, held steady by the grip of his hands, her eyes on the dark outline of the floating raft. There was no hesitancy, no questioning.

"Say when," he said sharply.

"Now."

She sprang outward, and came down, sinking to her knees, and clinging fast, as the raft bobbed up and down under her sudden weight, dipping until the water rolled completely over it.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE COMING OF DAWN

West leaned far out, and stared off at the faint blotch made by the raft against the water surface. He could perceive little except a bare, shapeless outline.

"Did you make it? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm safe enough; but wet just the same; the thing bobbed under."

"It will hold us up though, don't you think?"

"Why, of course, it will float; it is supposed to support four people. It rides dry enough now. But--but, Captain West, I want you to come."

"I'm coming; I'll throw my shoes and coat over there to you first. To be rid of them will make swimming easier. Watch out now--good! Now draw in the line; we may need it. Got it all right? Very well; here goes."

He made the plunge, coming up to the surface close beside the raft, the edge of which he quickly grasped with his hands. The girl remained motionless, barely perceptible through the gloom, but with anxious eyes marking his every movement. The frail support beneath her rose and fell on the swell of the waters, occasionally dipping beneath the surface.

Beyond, a grim, black, threatening shadow, wallowed the wreck. West swam steadily, urging the unwieldy raft away from the menacing side of the vessel, driven by the necessity of escaping the inevitable suction when she went down. It was a hard, slow push, the square sides of the raft offering every obstacle to progress. Yet the waves and wind helped somewhat, the raft being lighter than the water-sogged _Seminole_, so that gradually the distance widened, until there extended a considerable waste of water between the two. Exhausted by his exertion, and breathing hard, West glanced back over his shoulder at the dimmer shadow of the yacht, now barely revealed against the clouded sky. The bulk of it seemed scarcely visible in any defined form above the level of the sea--the end must be almost at hand.

Satisfied that they were far enough away for safety, he clambered cautiously upon the platform, the girl as carefully making room for him on the few dry planks. The raft tossed dizzily under the strain, but he made it at last, the water draining from his soaked clothing, his flesh shivering at the touch of the cool night air. He sat up, his limbs braced to hold him erect, glancing aside at her, wondering at her continued silence. Even in the darkness she must have known his eyes were searching her face.

"You are cold," she said, doubtfully. "Here is your coat, and I have kept it dry--no, really, I do not need it; I am quite warmly dressed."

He threw the garment over his wet shoulders, gratefully, and the two sat there very close together, staring back at the labouring _Seminole_.

There was nothing to say, nothing to do; for the moment at least they were safe, and perhaps morning would bring rescue. Suddenly West straightened up, aroused by a new interest--surely that last wave went entirely over the yacht's rail; he could see the white gleam of spray as it broke; and, yes, there was another! Unconsciously his hand reached out and clasped that of his companion. She made no effort to draw away, and they sat there in awed silence, watching this weird tragedy of the sea, with bodies braced to meet the bobbing of the unwieldy support beneath them.

At first the labouring vessel seemed to hold its own, fighting desperately to remain afloat, a mere shadow above the surface. Then, almost without warning, the end came. She went down bow first, the stern lifting until West could discern the dark outlines of the screw, and then dropped like a stone, vanishing almost instantly. One moment she was there; the next had disappeared, the black waters closing over. There was but little evidence of what occurred; only a deeper swell, tossing the raft giddily about for a moment, and causing West to tighten his grip on the girl's hand. She gave utterance to a half-smothered cry, and her body dropped forward as though she would hide the scene from her eyes.

"That is the last of the _Seminole_" West said, feeling the necessity of strengthening her. "But it is nothing to frighten you. We are safe enough here."

"Oh, it is not that," she explained hastily, lifting her head, and facing him. "I--I do not think I am frightened. I have not broken down before, but--but I thought then of that dead man lying there all alone in the dark cabin. It seemed so terrible when the yacht sank. Please do not find fault with me."

"That was not why I spoke. But you must keep your nerve; we may be afloat for hours yet before we are picked up."

"You are sure we will be?"

"The probability is altogether in our favour," he insisted, as much to encourage himself as her. "This is Lake Michigan in summer time, and boats are plying everywhere. We shall surely be sighted by something when daylight returns. There is no sign of a storm brewing, and all we need do now is hold on."

She was silent a moment, with head again bent forward.

"What do you suppose became of the men who deserted the yacht?" she asked, her voice natural and quiet.