CHAPTER VII
A POINT OF LIGHT
Jack Cosgrove was awake on the instant. Not until he had groped aroundin the darkness and repeated the name of Fred several times in a loudvoice would he believe he was not with them.
"Well, by the great horned spoon!" he exclaimed, "that beatseverything. How that chap got away, and why he done it, and where he'sgone to gets me."
"I wonder if he took his gun," added Rob, stooping over and examiningthe depression in the ice, where the three laid their weapons beforecomposing themselves for sleep; "yes," he added directly after, "hetook his rifle with him."
As may be supposed, the two were in a frenzied state of mind, and forseveral minutes were at a loss what to do, if, indeed, they could doanything. They knew not where to look for their missing friend, norcould they decide as to what had become of him.
One fearful thought was in the minds of both, but neither gaveexpression to it; each recoiled with a shudder from doing so. It wasthat he had wandered off in his sleep and fallen into the sea.
Despite their distress and dismay, they noticed several significantfacts. The wind that blew like a hurricane when they closed theireyes, had subsided. When they stood up, so that their heads aroseabove the projections that had protected them, the breeze was sogentle that it was hard to tell from which direction it came. It wouldbe truth to say there was no wind at all.
Further, there was a marked rise in the temperature. In fact, theweather was milder than any experienced after leaving St. John, andwas remarked by Rob.
"You don't often see anything of the kind," replied the sailor;"though I call something of the kind to mind on that voyage in theseparts in the 'Mary Jane,' which was smashed by the iceberg."
But their thoughts instantly reverted to the missing boy. Rob hadshouted to him again and again in his loudest tones, had whistleduntil the echo rang in his own ears, and had listened in vain for theresponse.
The tumultuous waves did not subside as rapidly as they arose. Theybroke against the walls of the iceberg with decreasing power, but witha boom and crash that it would seem threatened to shatter the vaststructure into fragments. There were occasional lulls in theoverpowering turmoil, which were used both by Rob and Jack in callingto the missing one, but with no result.
"It's no use," remarked the sailor, after they had tired themselvespretty well out; "wherever he is, he can't hear us."
"I wonder if he will ever be able to hear us," said Rob, in a chokingvoice, peering around in the gloom, his eyes and ears strained to thehighest tension.
"I wish I knew," replied Jack, who, though he was as much distressedas his companion, was too thoughtful to add to the grief by any wordsof his own. "I hope the lad is asleep somewhere in these parts, but Idon't know nothing more about him than you."
"And I know nothing at all."
"Can you find out what time it is?"
That was easily done. Stooping down so as to protect the flame fromany chance eddy of wind, Rob ignited a match on his clothing andlooked at his watch.
"We slept longer than I imagined, Jack; day-break isn't more thanthree or four hours off."
"That's good, but them hours will seem the longest that you everpassed, my hearty."
There could be no doubt on that point, as affected both.
"Why, Jack," called out Rob, "the stars are shining."
"Hadn't you observed that before? Yes; there's lots of the twinklersout, and the storm is gone for good."
Every portion of the sky except the northern showed the glitteringorbs, and, for the moment, Rob forgot his grief in the surprise overthe marked change in the weather.
"This mildness will bring another change afore long," remarked Jack.
"What's that?"
"Fogs. We'll catch it inside of twenty-four hours, and some of themarticles in this part of the world will beat them in London town;thick enough for you to lean against without falling."
As the minutes passed, with the couple speculating as to what couldhave happened to Fred Warburton, their uneasiness became so great thatthey could not remain idle. They must do something or they would losecommand of themselves.
Rob was on the point of proposing a move, with little hope of itsamounting to anything, when the sailor caught his arm.
"Do you see that?"
The darkness had so lifted that the friends could distinguish eachother's forms quite plainly, and the lad saw that Jack had extendedhis arm, and was pointing out to sea. The fellow was startled, as hehad good cause to be.
Apparently not far off was something resembling a star, low down inthe horizon and gliding over the surface of the deep. Now and then itdisappeared, but only for a moment. At such times it was evidentlyshut from sight by the crests of the intervening waves.
It was moving steadily from the right to the left, the friends, ofcourse, being unable to decide what points of the compass these were.Its motion in rising and sinking, vanishing and then coming to viewagain, advancing steadily all the while, left no doubt as to itsnature.
"It's the 'Nautilus'!" exclaimed Rob; "Captain McAlpine is looking forus."
"That's not the 'Nautilus'," said Jack; "for she doesn't show herlights in that fashion. Howsumever, it's a craft of some kind, and ifwe can only make 'em know we're here they'll lay by and take us off inthe morning."
As the only means of reaching the ears of the strangers the two beganshouting lustily, varying the cries as fancy suggested. In addition,Jack fired his gun several times.
While thus busied they kept their gaze upon the star-like point oflight on which their hopes were fixed.
It maintained the same dancing motion, all the while pushing forward,for several minutes after the emission of the signals.
"She has stopped!" was the joyful exclamation of Rob, who postponed ashout that was trembling on his lips; "they have heard us and willsoon be here."
Jack was less hopeful, but thought his friend might be right. Themotion of the star from left to right had almost ceased, as if theboat was coming to a halt. Still the sailor knew that the same effecton their vision would be produced if the vessel headed either awayfrom or toward the iceberg; it was one of these changes of directionthat he feared had taken place.
Up and down the light bobbed out of sight for a second, then gleamingbrightly as if the obscuring clouds had been brushed aside from theface of the star, which shone through the intervening gloom like abeacon to the wanderer.
"Yes, they are coming to us," added Rob, forgetting his lost friend inhis excitement; "they will soon be here. I wonder they don't hail us."
"Don't be too sartin, lad," was the answer of the sailor; "if the boatwas going straight from us it would seem for a time as though she wascoming this way; I b'lieve she has changed her course without athought of us."
They were cruel words, but, sad to say, they proved true. The time wasnot long in coming when all doubt was removed. The star dwindled to asmaller point than ever, seemed longer lost to view, until finally itwas seen no more.
"Do you suppose they heard us?" asked Rob, when it was no longerpossible to hope for relief from that source.
"Of course not; if they had they would have behaved like a Christian,and stood by and done what they could."
"Ships are not numerous in this latitude, and it may be a long timebefore we see another."
"The chances p'int that way, and yet you know there's a good manysettlements along the Greenland coast. It isn't exactly the place I'dchoose for a winter residence--especially back in the country--butthere are plenty who like it."
"In what way can that affect us?"
"There are ships passing back and forth between Denmark and Greenland,and a number v'yage to the United States, and I'm hoping we may be runacross by some of them--Hark!"