The Three Midshipmen Part 6

"The sea-coffin," answered Terence, as they shoved off. The two boats which had brought the captain and his officers made the best of their way to the brig. They were soon close to her. The white cloud had meantime been growing larger and larger, and yet there was scarcely a breath of wind. Many on board the frigate did not believe even that a squall was brewing. Suddenly the clouds, as if impelled by some mighty impulse, came rushing on, not in a direct line, but with a circular motion, towards the spot where lay the two ships of war.

"All hands shorten sail," cried the first lieutenant. "Man the fore and main clew-garnets, spanker brails--topsail-halyards--clew up--haul down, let fly of all." These and sundry other orders followed in rapid succession. The squall, seeming to gain rapidity as it advanced, struck the frigate before it was expected. Jack and Murray had hurried with others to their stations aloft, and were endeavouring as rapidly as they could to get those orders they received executed, but the exertions of all were insufficient to take the canvas off the ship in time. Over heeled the frigate on her beam end, the water rushing in at her lee ports--some of the sails were split to ribbons, sheets and halyards were flying loose, and a scene of confusion prevailed such as she had never before been in. The whole surface of the ocean was a ma.s.s of white foam, surrounded by which the ship lay an almost helpless wreck. The helm was put up but she would not answer it.

"We shall have to cut away the mizen-mast," observed the captain. "But we'll try and make head sail on her first." This was done. A suppressed shout of satisfaction showed that she felt its power, and away she flew like a sea-bird before the squall, the darkness of night coming on to bide all surrounding objects from their view. Then, and not till then, had any one time to turn a glance towards the _Onyx_.

Not a glimpse of her was to be seen. Jack and Murray had watched the boats get alongside, and they were on the point of being hoisted in when the squall struck the frigate. Both of them had a sad apprehension that they had seen the masts of the brig bending down before the squall, but so great at the moment was the uproar and confusion that it appeared more like the vision of a dream than a reality. The instant the squall blew over, the frigate beat back towards the spot where, as far as it could be calculated, the brig had last been seen. Had she bore up she must have been pa.s.sed. In vain every eye on board was engaged in looking out for her. All night long the frigate tacked backwards and forwards. Not a trace of her could be discovered. Daylight returned; the sun arose; his glorious beams played joyfully over the blue surface of the ocean just rippled by a summer's breeze, but it was too evident that all those they sought and the gay little craft they manned lay engulfed beneath its treacherous bosom.

"There's one of us gone," said Jack, as he bent his head down over the table of the berth to hide his face. "Poor Paddy!"

Murray said nothing, but his countenance was very sad.

CHAPTER FIVE.

ROASTING THE BULLY.

The midshipmen were aroused by the cry of "All hands shorten sail!" The boatswain's whistle had not ceased sounding along the decks before Jack and Murray were on their way aloft, the first to the fore, the other to the maintop, where they were stationed. A heavy squall had struck the frigate, and she was heeling over with her main-deck ports almost in the water. Up they flew with the topmen to their respective stations, while the officer of the watch was shouting through his speaking-trumpet.

"Let go topgallant-halyards. Clew up, haul down." Then came, "Let fly topsail-halyards. Clew up. Round in the weather braces." Down came the yards on the caps. The sails were now bulging out and shaking in the wind. Out flew the active topmen to the yard-arms. Jack, as he had often before done, ran out to get hold of the weather earing. He was hauling away on it while the men hauled the reef over to him. He had already taken two outer turns with it, when, as he leaned back, he felt himself suddenly thrown from his hold. In vain he tried to clutch the earing; it slipped through his fingers. Headlong he came down, striking the leech of the sail. Mechanically he clutched at that. Probably it broke his fall. In another moment he was among the foaming waters, with the ship flying fast away from him. Murray had meantime been watching to see which mast would have its sails first reefed, and as he looked forward he saw Jack fall from aloft. He guessed that he must have struck his head when falling, and that he would be senseless when he reached the water. In a moment his jacket and shoes were off, and down he slid like lightning by the topmast weather backstay, and, leaping into the water, swam towards the spot where Jack had fallen. Captain Lascelles had seen the accident. He was on the p.o.o.p. Stepping back, he himself let go the life-buoy, noting exactly the spot where the accident had occurred. But not an order did he give. Perfectly cool, he stood waiting till the sails were reefed. Murray meantime caught sight of Jack, who lay senseless on the water, to the surface of which he had just risen, after having once gone down from the force with which he had fallen into the sea. Murray dreaded lest he should again see him sink.

He exerted all his strength to get up to him. The life-buoy was not far off. Had there been time he would have first towed it up to Jack, but he was afraid if he did that he would in the meantime sink. Murray swam bravely on. The foam, as the wind swept it off the surface of the sea, dashed wildly in his face, but he kept his eye fixed steadily on Jack's head, that should he go down again, he might know exactly where to dive after him. Murray, under Jack's instruction, had been constantly practising swimming, and he now very nearly equalled his master in the art. His courage was as high, and what he wanted in muscular strength he made up by his undaunted spirit. He longed to know what had become of the frigate, but he would not turn his head to look. His first object was to get hold of Jack, and to keep his face out of the water, that, when animation returned, he might not be suffocated. With steady strokes he swam on, admirably retaining his presence of mind. Every stroke was measured. There was no hurry, no bustle, with Murray; he knew that such would only bring worse speed. What an excellent example did he set of the way to attain an important object! Calmly eyeing it, and though clearly comprehending all the difficulties and dangers which surrounded him, with unswerving courage pushing towards his point.

"Keep up! keep up, Jack!" he sang out, but Jack did not hear him. The seas, every moment increasing, came roaring towards him, while the foam dashed over his head. He surmounted them all. "I am here. Jack! I am here!" he repeated, as he grasped Jack by the collar and turned him over on his back, so that his face might be uppermost. A faint moan was all the reply Rogers gave. It was satisfactory, as it a.s.sured Murray that he was alive. Now he looked round anxiously for the life-buoy. It had drifted away before the gale. But then he also had the wind in his favour, and he did not despair of overtaking it. With one hand supporting his shipmate, and with the other striking out, he swam steadily on as before towards the life-buoy. Evening was coming on.

Darkness he knew would soon overspread the sea. He knew that. He knew the difficulty there might be in finding him and his companion. A far more practical swimmer than he might have despaired, but he did not.

Murray did not trust to his own right arm to save him. He looked to help from above. He knew if it was right it would be afforded him. If not, he was prepared to meet his fate.

Meantime away flew the frigate. The moment the sails were reefed, the captain issued the orders he had been anxious to give. "About ship,"

"helm's a-lee." Never did the crew more strenuously exert themselves to box round the yards. They knew who was overboard, and the two midshipmen were favourites with all hands: Murray for the calm, gentlemanly, officer-like way in which he spoke to the men, and for the thorough knowledge of his duty he always displayed; Jack for his dash and bravery, and good spirits and humour with which he carried out any work allotted to him. They now saw that neither was Murray wanting in dash and courage. As the frigate was standing back towards the spot where the accident had occurred, preparations were made for lowering a boat. There was no hurry or confusion in this case. Her proper crew were called away. The second lieutenant took charge of her. Some people called Captain Lascelles a very strict officer. It is true he never overlooked a breach of discipline or carelessness of duty. He used to say that a breach of discipline, however trifling, if allowed to pa.s.s, was like a small leak, which, if permitted to continue, will go on increasing till the ship founders. Thus, among other good arrangements, every boat on board was kept in readiness to be lowered at a moment's notice, and everybody knew exactly what to do when a boat was to be lowered.

Captain Lascelles did not allow his feelings to appear; but he was intensely anxious about the fate of his two midshipmen. He would have given all the worldly wealth of which he was possessed to be a.s.sured that they would be saved. The thick clouds brought up by the gale increased the gathering gloom. Neither they nor the life-buoy could be seen. He had carefully noted the exact course on which the frigate had run since they went overboard, so that he was able to calculate how to keep her, so as to fetch back to the same spot. There were also many sharp eyes on the lookout forward, endeavouring with all their might to discover the lost ones. In those southern lat.i.tudes darkness comes on with a rapidity unknown in lands blessed by a long twilight. Thus, before the frigate got up to the spot where the accident had occurred, the night had come down completely on the world of waters.

"I am afraid that the poor lads must be lost," said the second to the first lieutenant. "We ought to hear them or see something of them by this time."

"Don't say that, Thorn," answered the first lieutenant. "Rogers is the midshipman who took the fine on sh.o.r.e when the _Firefly_ was wrecked; and Murray, though so quiet, is a very gallant fellow. They will do all that can be done to save themselves. I should indeed be deeply grieved if they were lost."

There was a good deal of sea at the time running, but not enough to make the lowering of a boat a matter of danger if carefully performed.

"Well heave the ship to, and lower a couple of boats to go in search of the lads," observed the captain.

The first lieutenant issued the necessary orders, and the ship was brought up to the wind and hove-to. Mr Thorn eagerly went to lower one of the boats. Hemming took charge of the other. Their respective crews sprang into them. The falls were properly tended and unhooked at the right moment, and, getting clear of the ship, they lay ready to pull in whatever direction might be indicated. Here was the difficulty.

"Silence fore and aft," sang out the captain. "Does any one hear them?"

In an instant there was a dead silence. No one would have supposed that many hundred human beings were at that moment alive and awake on board the ship. Every one listened intently, but no sound was borne to their ears. Even Captain Lascelles began to give up all hope.

"The poor widowed mother, how will she bear it?" he muttered; "and that honest country gentleman--it will be sad news I shall have to send him of his son."

Scarcely had the captain thus given expression to his feelings, when a bright light burst forth amid the darkness some way to leeward. A shout spontaneously arose from all on board. "They must have got hold of the life-buoy, they must have got hold of the life-buoy," was the cry.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" The two boats dashed away, with eager strokes, in the direction of the light.

Meantime Murray had towed Jack steadily on towards the buoy. He began to feel very weary though, and sometimes he thought that his strength would fail him. He looked at the buoy; it seemed a very long way off.

He felt at last that he should never be able to reach it. "I'll not give in while life remains," he said to himself. Just then his hand struck against something. He grasped it. It was a large piece of Spanish cork-wood. He shoved it under Jack's back, and rested his own left arm on it. He immediately found an immense advantage from the support it afforded. "Who sent that piece of cork-wood to my aid?" he thought; "it did not come by chance." The a.s.surance that he was not deserted gave him additional confidence. Jack also gave further signs of returning animation.

"Where am I?" he at length asked, in a tone of voice which showed that his senses were still confused.

"In the middle of the Mediterranean; but there's a life-buoy close at hand, and when we get hold of it we shall be all to rights," answered Murray.

"What! is that you, Alick?" asked jack. "I remember now feeling that I was going overboard; but how came you here? Has the ship gone down?"

"No, no; all right; she'll be here to pick us up directly, I hope."

"Then you jumped overboard to save me!" exclaimed Jack. "Just like you, Alick; I knew you would do it."

Jack lay perfectly still all the time he was talking. It did not seem to occur to him that he could swim as well as his companion.

"Here we are!" cried Murray; "Heaven be praised--I was afraid that I should scarcely be able to make out the life-buoy, it is getting so dark." He placed Jack's hand on one of the beckets, and took another himself, and together they climbed up, and sat on the life-buoy. Murray drew the piece of cork up alongside, observing, "I do not like to desert the friend which has been of so much service in our utmost need, and to kick it away without an acknowledgment."

Jack laughed. He had now completely come to his senses. "I'm very much obliged to you, Friend Cork," said he. "I know, Murray, what you are going to say; I am, indeed, thankful to Heaven for having thus far preserved me, and to you too, my dear fellow. But, I say, can you make out the ship?"

"Not a shred of her. I scarcely know in what quarter to look for her."

"Well, then, all we shall have to do is to hang on here till daylight.

The weather is warm, so we shall not come to much harm if the wind goes down again, and I am very certain the captain will come and look for us."

"It may be a question whether he can find us, though," said Murray.

"By-the-bye, I do not think that the buoy was fired. If we can find the trigger we will let it off, and that will quickly show our whereabouts."

"A bright idea," answered jack. "Hurrah! I've found it. Now blaze away, old boy." Jack pulled the trigger as he spoke, and immediately an intensely bright bluish light burst forth above their heads, exhibiting their countenances to each other, with their hair streaming, lank and long, over their faces, giving them at the same time a very cadaverous and unearthly appearance. Jack, in spite of their critical position, burst into a fit of laughter. "Certainly, we do look as unlike two natty quarter-deck midshipmen as could well be," he exclaimed. "Never mind, we have not many spectators."

Jack and Murray's coolness arose from the perfect confidence they felt that they would not be deserted while the slightest hope remained of their being found; and now that they had set off the port-fire they were almost as happy as if they were already safe on board. They had not much longer to wait. Presently a hail reached them; they shouted in return, and soon afterwards they saw a couple of boats emerging from the darkness. One took them on board--the other towed the life-buoy; and in half an hour more their wet clothes were off them, and they were being stowed away between the blankets in the sick-bay, each of them sipping a pretty strong gla.s.s of brandy and water. Of course, when the excitement was over, a very considerable reaction took place, and several days pa.s.sed before they were allowed to return to their duty. Captain Lascelles then sent for Jack, and inquired how he came to tumble overboard? Jack had to confess that in his zeal he had gone beyond his duty, and that, instead of remaining at his station in the top, he had been attempting to do work which ought to have been performed by one of the topmen.

"You were wrong, as you will see, Rogers," remarked Captain Lascelles.

"Remember that there is a strict line of duty, and that going beyond, as you call it, may be quite as injurious to the service as neglecting any portion of it. Your business was to see that the men were properly reefing the topsail. By going out on the yard-arm you could not do this, and were thus neglecting your duty--not going beyond it. I have no intention of punishing you, on condition that you will recollect what I have said."

Jack promised that he would, and thanked the captain for his lecture.

Murray got, as he deserved, a great deal of credit for his gallantry; and he was not a little delighted to receive the gold medal, some time afterwards, from the Humane Society. Soon after this occurrence, the frigate was sent to Gibraltar. She there took on board several pa.s.sengers for Malta. One was a bear, which was sent as a present to the captain of a line-of-battle ship on the station, from some consul in Africa, who knew that he was fond of pets; another was a young gentleman going to travel in the East. The captain had given him a pa.s.sage, as he was a relation of some brother officer who could not take him himself.

He had been offered, and accepted, a berth in the gun-room. Neither Jack nor Murray had seen him, nor had they heard his name before they sailed. The next morning, after they had lost sight of the rock, when they went on deck, who should they see walking up and down, with an air of no little consequence, and having a pair of lilac kid gloves on his hands, but Bully Pigeon. Jack and Murray forgot all his bad qualities, and only thought of him as an old schoolfellow. So they went up to him, and cordially put out their hands.

"Why, Pigeon, how are you, old fellow? Who'd have thought of seeing you here?" exclaimed Jack.

Pigeon drew himself up. "You must have made a mistake; I--I don't remember you," he answered.

"Oh! but we do you, very well, at Eagle House. I'm Jack Rogers, here's Murray. We two came together. You didn't leave, either, before us,"

said Jack. "Oh! you must remember all about it."

"Ah! now I think I do," replied Pigeon, extending the tips of his fingers. "There was another fellow went to sea at the same time. Paddy something--Oh! ye-es, I remember."

"Ah! Paddy Adair, you mean. Poor fellow, he was lost in the _Onyx_,"

answered Jack, in a sad tone.

"Oh! I remember--he was always a harum-scarum vagabond," said Pigeon, in a sneering way.