The Little Skipper Part 7

"Yes, boy: my son. When did he come on board?"

"Dunno, sir. Didn't you bring him?"

"I? Absurd! That will do."

The man left the cabin, and seeing how ill the boy was, Captain Trevor lifted him up and laid him on a cushioned locker.

"How came you here, sir? What monkey's trick is this?" cried the Captain angrily.

"You--you did no--bid me good-bye," said the boy feebly, with his eyes half-closed. "I came because--you were angry with me--say good-bye."

"Tut--tut--tut--tut!" said the Captain.

"Please forgive me, father. I haven't eaten anything--I--I feel so sick."

"My poor boy!" muttered the Captain, as he grasped the meaning of it all, and his eyes turned a little dim. "There, there, Bob, it was all a mistake. I was not angry with you. Come, come, hold up," he cried, with a smile which made the boy cling to his hand. "You a Skipper, and can't stand a sea like this? But do you know where you are?"

The boy could not trust himself to speak, but he nodded and pointed down to the cabin floor.

"Here," said the Captain, looking puzzled. "Yes, you are here sir. Do you know what a muddle you've made?"

Poor Bob groaned, and his father scratched his head.

"No help for it," muttered the Captain. "Must put in at Mount's Bay.

Tut--tut--tut--tut!"

The faintly heard sound of the gong made him look up sharply. The vibration ceased, for the propeller had ceased to revolve.

A glance through the cabin window explained why. The "Flash" had glided into a dense bank of dry fog, and the Captain could not see a yard beyond the panes of gla.s.s.

The next minute the cabin was filled with the dismal roaring of the fog-horn, to warn other vessels of their presence there, and, before a minute had elapsed, the Captain uttered a sharp e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, and sprang to the cabin door, for a fresh roar sounded close at hand, telling that another ship was somewhere near. He rushed on deck, to hear a cry of horror raised by the watch, and the sharp tinging of the gong, for the engines to be turned astern.

_Too late!_ For at the same moment, the huge prow of a great Atlantic liner appeared out of the fog, close at hand; there was a fearful crash, and Captain Trevor was thrown heavily down, as the "Flash" was struck amidships, and heeled over, as if the huge vessel that had struck her, were about to ride right over her, and send her to the bottom. But instead she sc.r.a.ped along her side, swept away two boats, and disappeared directly in the mist, with the dismal sound of the fog-horn dying away.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_There was a fearful crash, as the 'Flash' was struck amidships._"]

There was no confusion on board the "Flash"; every officer and man sprang to quarters, and after a few brief orders, all stood breathless, waiting for the report of the damage.

It was not long in coming. There was a terrible gap in the gun-boat's side, and Captain Trevor knew that, do all he might, she could only be kept afloat for an hour or so, before she sank.

For a few minutes the poor young Skipper was forgotten, in the stern duties before Captain Trevor, with so many lives depending upon him; then the father's heart spoke to him reproachfully, and he called for his c.o.xswain.

Tom Jeffs towered up big out of the fog directly, saluting.

"Jeffs," said the Captain calmly, "get two life-belts. My little son is in the cabin. Whatever happens, stand by him. I trust him to you."

"Jack Robinson" opened his mouth, and stood as if turned to stone.

"You hear! Quick!" cried the Captain.

"Ay, ay, sir!" roared the man, and his voice was like a dismal groan.

The "Flash's" head had been turned for the sh.o.r.e, and she was going at full speed for the Cornish coast, and, with the remaining boats ready for lowering, when necessary, the steam pumps going, and the men, under the first lieutenant's orders, toiling away, stretching sails over the terrible gap in the gun-boat's side, while the propeller spun round, to force her through the dense fog, in the hope that the nearest port might be reached.

Meanwhile, the c.o.xswain had recovered a little from his stupor, and, armed with the life-belts, made his way to the cabin, where he found the Skipper, lying quite helpless on the floor.

"What cheer, my lad!" he cried, and his presence there, roused the boy at once; "feel a bit queery?"

"Yes; so ill, Jack," said the Skipper.

"On'y qualmy, my lad. Soon be better."

"Where's my father? Is anything the matter?"

"Oh, nothing much. Set o' lubbers shoved one o' them big 'ormous pa.s.senger boats aboard us, in the fog. Cap'n sent me to look arter you, and put this here on, but it's 'bout ten sizes too big. I shall have to cut it down. Manage it somehow, though."

"Is my father very angry with me for coming on board?" faltered Bob.

"Not a bit, my lad. Glad to see you, o' course," said the c.o.xswain, who was busy at work altering the cords of the life-belt. "But he says you must go ash.o.r.e again wi' me, and as there's rough weather ahead, you and me's got to wear these here."

"I don't think I feel quite so sick now, 'Jack,'" said the boy; the knowledge that his father was not angry, acting wonderfully upon him.

"But, I say, 'Jack,' I can't move in this thing."

"Well, it _is_ a bit ork'ard, my lad, but use is second natur'; and we'll take 'em off when we get ash.o.r.e."

"But do sailors always wear these things in fogs?"

"Well, not quite allus, my lad. There you are now; makes you look quite 'ansum, if you didn't look quite so much like a young ellyfunt. Now I'll slip mine on, and we'll go on deck."

The next minute they were on the bridge, the c.o.xswain looking upon that, as the proper place for his Captain's son. "Easily drop down to fust boat when they're going to shove off," said Jeffs, to the Captain.

Meanwhile all possible had been done, and with the swell, heavier as they neared the coast, the "Flash" tore on through the dense white mist, till the sound of breakers ahead, warned the Captain, that speed must be slackened, and the vessel's course a little changed; but, it was impossible to tell exactly where they were, for nothing was visible a dozen yards from the bows. Hardly had the course been changed, and the second officer despatched to see whether the vessel would keep afloat till the fog lifted, than there was a dull grinding sound, then a b.u.mp, a slow onward motion, and then those on board, were nearly taken off their feet by the sudden stoppage.

The "Flash" was fast on the rocks, and a wave struck her, came on board, and swept the deck.

Captain Trevor turned to look at the c.o.xswain, who was standing making a piece of lead-line fast about the boy's waist, and gave the officer a nod. Then the orders were given, the first boat was manned, and Tom Jeffs looked at Captain Trevor for orders.

"Next boat," he said, and as the first was lowered, and floated off in safety, the second was filled, and once more the c.o.xswain looked for his orders. "Wait for the other," said the Captain, who was afraid to let his son go in the crowd which filled the second.

He gave the order, and waiting their opportunity, without any hurry, the second lieutenant contrived to lower this boat, so that, when the next wave came, she floated away into the thick mist.

The first lieutenant now saw to the manning of the last boat, and for the third time the c.o.xswain looked in his Captain's face for his orders, but still they did not come.

The Captain glanced round, but there was nothing, save the breaking waves sweeping over the deck, and the fog shutting all in.

"Quick, sir, please," shouted the first lieutenant.

"Yes, go now, Jeffs," said the Captain hoa.r.s.ely, and he bent down and kissed his boy.

"After you, sir," said the c.o.xswain.