CHAPTER V
THE KANSAS SUSTAINS A CHECK--
Once, in early days, when Courtenay was a middy on a destroyer, hisship ran ashore on the Manacles. After a bump or two, and a noise likethe snapping of trees during a hurricane, the little vessel broke herback, and the after part, with the engines, fell away into deep water.Courtenay happened to be on the bridge; the forward half held intact,so he and the other survivors clambered ashore at low water.
He waited now for the rending of plates, the tearing asunder of stanchsteel ribs and cross-beams, which should sound the knell of the ship'slast moments. But the _Kansas_ seemed to be in no hurry to fall inpieces. She strained and groaned, and shook violently when a wavepounded her; otherwise, she lay there like a beaten thing, oddlyresembling the living but almost unconscious men stretched on themattresses in the forward saloon.
Courtenay did not experience the least fear of death. Emotion of anysort was already dead in him. He found himself wondering if anunexpectedly strong current, setting to the southeast, had not upsethis reckoning--if there were any broken limbs among the occupants ofthe saloon--if Elsie had been injured by being thrown down into hiscabin. He looked at his watch; it was past eleven. In four hoursthere would be dawn. Dawn! In as many minutes he might see the daythat is everlasting. . . . Ah! Perhaps not even four minutes! The_Kansas_, with a shiver, lifted to the embrace of a heavy sea, lurchedto port, and settled herself more comfortably. The deck assumed aneasier angle. Now it was possible to walk. There were no rocks here,at any rate. Courtenay at once jumped to the conclusion that thepowerful current whose existence he suspected had cut out for itself adeep-water channel towards the land, and the ship had struck on thesilt of its back-wash. Anyhow, the _Kansas_ was still living. Thelights were all burning steadily. He could detect the rhythmic throbof the donkey-engine. He felt it like the faint beat of a pulse. Inher new position the ship presented less of a solid wall to theonslaught of the sea. The tumultuous waves began to race past withoutbreaking so fiercely. Had she started her plates? Were the holds andengine-room full of water? If so, Walker and his helpers were alreadydrowning beneath his feet. And, when next she moved, the vessel mightslip away into the depths!
These and kindred thoughts, thoughts without sequence and almostwithout number, flew through his mind with incredible speed. They werelucid and reasoned, their pros and cons equally dealt with--he couldhave answered any question on each point were it propounded by a boardof examiners--and all this took place within a few seconds, between theimpact of one big wave and another.
A man rushed by, or tried to do so. Courtenay recognized him as aleading stoker who had temporary charge of the donkey-boiler and seizedhim wrathfully, his eyes ablaze.
"Go back!" he roared.
"Senor! The ship is lost!"
"Go back, and await my orders."
He could have strangled the fugitive in his sudden rage. The firemanendeavored to gasp his readiness to obey. Courtenay relaxed his grip,and, for a time, at least one member of the crew stuck to his post,fearing the mad captain more than death.
A mob of stewards and kitchen hands came in a torrent up the saloonstairs. Courtenay met them, a terrifying figure, and thrust a revolverin their faces.
"Back!" he shouted, "or some of you will die here."
Even in their frenzy they believed him. The foremost slunk away, andfought in a new terror with those who would urge them on. Gray,bleeding from a cut across the forehead, knocked down a man whobrutally tore Isobel out of his path. Tollemache, a revolver in eachhand, set his back against the corner of the saloon at the foot of thestairs.
"I'm with you, captain," he yelled.
Courtenay saw that he had conquered them--for the instant. He raisedhis hand.
"Behave like men," he cried. "You can do no good by crowding the deck.I am going to the bridge to see if it is possible to lower the boats.Each boat's crew will be mustered in turn, passengers and men alike.If you are cowards now you will throw away what chance there is ofsaving your lives."
His voice rang out like a trumpet. His attitude cowed while itreassured them. Men turned from one to another to ask what the senorcaptain was saying. They understood much, but they wanted to make sureof each word. Was there any hope? Now that the gates of death wereopening, he was a god in their eyes--a god who promised life in returnfor obedience.
A revolver barked twice somewhere on deck. A bullet smashed one of thewindows of the music-room and lodged in a panel behind Courtenay. Theyall heard the reports, but the captain promptly turned the incident toadvantage.
"You see we mean to maintain order," he said. "Mr. Malcolm, take carethat every one has a lifebelt."
A sort of cheer came from the men. Who could fail to believe in aleader so cool and resourceful? He ran out into the darkness todiscover the cause of the shooting. A number of sailors and firemenwere striving to launch a boat. There was a struggle going on. Hecould not distinguish friend from foe in the melee, but he threwhimself into it fearlessly.
"You fools!" he shouted. "You may die soon enough without killing eachother. Make way there! Ah! would you?" He caught the gleam of anuplifted knife, and struck savagely at the face of the man who wouldhave used it. The butt of the revolver caught the sailor on thetemple. He went down like a stone. Courtenay stumbled over anotherprostrate body. It was Mr. Boyle, striving to rise. Their eyes met inthe gloom. Courtenay stooped and swung the other clear of the fight,for the second and third officers were using their fists, and Walker,even in the hurry of his ascent from the stoke-hold, had not let go ofa spanner. The yells and curses, the trampling of dim forms swaying inthe fight, the roaring of the gale, and the incessant crash of heavyspray made up a ghastly pandemonium. It was an orgy of terror, of wildabandon, of hopeless striving on the edge of the pit--a stupid madnessat the best, as the ship's life-boats on the port side were on the spardeck; in their panic the men were endeavoring to lower a dingy. YetCourtenay saw that discipline was regaining its influence. He thoughtto inspire confidence and stop useless savagery by a sharp command.
"All hands follow me to starboard!"
The struggle ceased instantly. The captain's order seemed to implysome new scheme. Men who, a moment ago, would have killed any one whosought to restrain them from clearing the boat's falls, now racedpell-mell after their officers. No heed was paid to those who lay onthe deck, wounded or insensible. Herein alone did these Chileansailors differ from wolves, and wolves have the excuse of fierce hungerwhen they devour their disabled fellows.
Still carrying Boyle, Courtenay led the confused horde through agangway to the higher side of the deck.
"Swing those boats back to the spar deck!" he said. "Get falls andtackle ready to lift them to port. Don't lose your heads, men. Youwill all be clear of the ship in ten minutes if you do as you are told."
Two officers and a quarter-master sprang forward. In an incrediblyshort space of time the crew were working with redoubled frenzy, butunder control, and with a common object. For an instant, Courtenay wasfree to attend to his chief officer. He bore him to the lighted salooncompanion. Boyle was deathly pale under the tan of his skin. Thecaptain saw that his own left hand, where it clasped the other roundthe waist, was covered with blood.
"Below there!" he cried. "Bring two men here, Mr. Malcolm."
When the chief steward came he gave directions that Mr. Boyle should betaken to the saloon and Dr. Christobal summoned.
"Send some one you can trust to return," he continued. "Go then to thelee of the promenade deck. You will find others there."
He did not stop to ask himself if solicitude for the unfortunateswounded in the fight were of any avail. His mind was clear, the habitof command strong in him. Not until the sea claimed him would he ceaseto rule. The clank of pulleys, the cries of the sailors heaving at theropes, told him that the crew were at work. At last he was free to goto the bridge.
He found the quarter-maste
r in the chart-house, on his knees. When theship struck, the officer of the watch had been thrown headlong to port.Recovering his feet before a tumbling sea could fling him overboard, hehauled himself out of danger just in time to take part in the fray ondeck. He came back now, hurrying to join the captain. Courtenay,standing in the shelter of the chart-house, was peering through theflying scud to leeward. The sea was darker there than it had been forhours. Around the ship the surface was milk-like with foam, but beyondthe area of the shoal there seemed to be a remote chance for a boat tolive.
"We 're on a sort of breakwater, sir," said the second officer.
"Seems like it. Is the ship hard and fast?"
"I am afraid so."
"I think the weather is moderating. Go and see how the barometerstands."
"Steady improvement, sir," came the report.
"Any water coming in?"
"Mr. Walker said he thought not."
"Perhaps it doesn't matter. Try to get the first life-boat lowered.Let her carry as many extra hands as possible. We have lost two boats.But do not send any women in her. If all is well, let them go in thenext one. Take charge of that yourself."
"Would you mind tying this handkerchief tightly just here, sir?"
The second officer held out his left forearm.
"Were you knifed, too?" asked Courtenay.
"It is not much, but I am losing a good deal of blood."
"The brutes--the unreasoning brutes!" muttered the captain. As heknotted the linen into a rough tourniquet the other asked:
"Shall I report to you when the first boat gets away, sir?"
"No need. I shall see what happens. When she is clear I shall bringthe ladies to you."
Pride of race helped these men to talk as collectedly as if the shipwere laid alongside a Thames wharf. They knew not the instant the_Kansas_ might lift again and turn turtle, yet they did not dream ofdeviating a hair's breadth from their duties. The second officer wentaft to carry out the captain's instructions. Courtenay followed alittle way, passing to leeward of the chart-house, until he reached hisown quarters. There was no door on that side, but light streamedthrough a couple of large port-holes across which the curtains had notbeen drawn. He looked in. Elsie was leaning against the table tobalance herself on the sloping deck. She held Joey in her arms. Sheseemed to be talking to the dog, who answered in his own way, by tryingto lick her face. The glass was so blurred that Courtenay could notsee that she was crying.
"Better wait," he muttered, and turned his gaze seaward again. Yes,there could be no doubt that the almost unbroken swell within half acable's length of the ship promised a possibility of escape. There wasno telling what dangers lay beyond. To his reckoning, the nearest landwas twenty miles distant, but the shoal water might extend all the way,and, with a falling wind, waves once disintegrated would not regain anyconsiderable size. It was a throw of the dice for life, but it must betaken. He indulged in a momentary thought as to his own course. Wouldhe leave the ship in the last boat? Yes, if every wounded man on boardwere taken off first; and how could he entertain even a shred of hopethat his cowardly crew would preserve such discipline to the end as topermit of that being done?
The answer to his mute question came sooner than he expected. He hadbeen standing there alone about five minutes, intently watching the setof the sea, so as to determine the best time for lowering a boat, when,amid the sustained shriek of the wind and the lashing of the spray, heheard sounds which told him that the forward port life-boat was beingswung outward on the davits. The hurricane deck was a mass of confusedfigures. The two boats to starboard, a life-boat and the jolly-boat,had been carried across the deck in readiness to take the places of theport life-boats. A landsman might think that medley reigned supreme;but it was not so. Sailor-like work was proceeding with the utmostspeed and system, when an accident happened. For some reason neverascertained, though it was believed that the men in the leading boatwere too anxious to clear the falls and failed to take the properprecautions, the heavy craft pitched stern foremost into the sea. Shesank like a stone, and with her went a number of Chileans; theirdespairing yells, coming up from the churning froth, seemed to be asignal for the demoniac passions latent in the crew to burst forthagain, this time in a consuming blaze that would not be stayed. Eachman fought blindly for himself, heedless now of all restrictions. Theknowledge of this latest disaster spread with amazing rapidity. Upfrom the saloon came a rush of stewards and others. Overborne in thepanic-stricken flight, Gray, Tollemache, Christobal, the French Countand the head steward, not knowing what new catastrophe threatened,brought Mr. Somerville and the almost inanimate women with them,leaving to their fate those who, like Boyle, were unable to move. Someof the mob rushed up the bridge companion; others made for the afterladders used only by sailors; others, again, swung themselves to thespar deck by the rails and awning standards. Even before Courtenaycould reach the scene, both the second and third officers were stabbed,this time mortally. He saw one of the infuriated mutineers heave thethird officer's body overboard--a final quittance for some injurypreviously received.
He emptied his revolver into the tumbling mass of men, but he was sweptaside by the fresh gang from the saloon, and perhaps owed his escapefrom instant death by falling on the slippery deck. He was up again,shouting, entreating, striking right and left, but he felt bitterlythat his efforts now were of no avail, and he bethought him that therewas only one resource left. These frenzied wretches would destroythemselves and all others--so, if he would save even a few of the livesentrusted to his care, at least one of the boats must be protected.The struggle was fiercest for the possession of the two life-boats. Bya determined effort the jolly-boat might be secured.
So he ran to obtain help from the few he could trust, from the tinycompany of white men he had left in the saloon; he met them, a forlornprocession, coming up to the bridge. The all-powerful instinct ofself-preservation, aided, no doubt, by the stinging, drenching showersof spray, had gone far towards reanimating Isobel and her maid, whileMrs. Somerville, a woman advanced in years, was able to walk, thoughbenumbed with the sudden cold. Courtenay unlocked the door of hiscabin. Elsie, her face pale and tear-stained, but outwardly composed,was yet standing near the table, and the dog sprang from her arms themoment his master appeared.
"Thank God!" she said, all of a flutter now that the solitary waitingfor a death which came not was ended. "I feared I should never see youagain. Is the ship lost?"
The wild soughing of the wind rendered her words indistinct. And thecaptain had no time for explanations.
"In here!" he shouted to Gray, who had helped Isobel to enter thechart-room, the first refuge available on this exposed deck.
"Sharp with it!" he thundered, when Isobel was unwilling to face thestorm again. The men took their cue from his imperative tone. Grayclasped Isobel in his arms and lifted her bodily through the doorway.The others followed his example. Soon the three women were with Elsiein the cabin. Isobel, by sheer reaction from her previous hysteria,was sullen now, and heedless of all considerations save her own misery.When she set eyes on Elsie she snapped out:
"You here!"
"Yes. Captain Courtenay brought me to his cabin after our return fromthe fore saloon."
"Oh, did he? And he left me with those devils beneath!"
They both heard Courtenay's hurried order:
"Leave the ladies here until we can come for them. Follow me at once."
The door slammed behind the men. Even the missionary was fired toaction by Courtenay's manner. Elsie helped Mrs. Somerville to a chair.Then she turned to Isobel, and said gently:
"It is a slight thing to discuss when any moment may be our last, butthe captain placed me here while he went to bring you. He had goneonly a few seconds when the ship struck."
The crest of a wave combed over the upper works and pounded the solidbeams and planks of the cabin until they creaked. The ship liftedsomewhat as the sea enveloped he
r.
"Oh, this is awful!" shrieked Isobel. "If I must die, let me diequickly. I shall go mad."
"Calm yourself, dear. There must be an end of our sufferings soon.Perhaps we may escape even yet."
"Yes, I know. If any one is saved it will be you. You left me downthere to take my chance among those fiends. You have been here hours,with your precious captain, no doubt. Were he looking after his shipthis might not have happened. . . . Why did I ever come on thiswretched vessel? And with you, who ran away from Ventana! I shouldhave been warned by it. When he could work me no other evil he sentyou. . . . Oh, you have taken a fine vengeance, Pedro Ventana! Mayyou be denied mercy as I am denied it now! . . . Go away! If youtouch me I shall strike you. I hate you! I tell you I am losing mysenses. Do you wish me to tear your face with my nails?"
Elsie, who would have soothed her distraught friend with a loving hand,drew back in real fear that she was confronted by a maniac. The utteroutrageousness of this new infliction brought tears to her eyes. Yetshe choked back her grief for the sake of the others.
"Isobel, darling, please try to control yourself," she pleaded. "Don'tsay such cruel things to me. You cannot mean them. I would doanything to serve you. I am more sorry for you than for myself. Ihave little to bind me to this life, whereas you have everything.Indeed, indeed, I have not been away from you many minutes."
Another heavy sea pitched on board. The _Kansas_ trembled and listedsuddenly. Isobel screamed shrilly, and burst into a storm of dry-eyedsobs. Her mood changed instantly into one of abject submission. Shesprang towards Elsie with hands outstretched.
"Oh, save me, save me!" she wailed. "God knows I am not fit to die!"
There are some noble natures which find strength in the need to comfortthe weakness of others. Elsie drew the distracted girl close to her,and placed an arm round her neck.
"It is not for us to say when we shall die," she murmured. "Let us tryto be resigned. We must bear our misfortunes with Christian faith andhope. Somehow, I feel that I have endured so much to-night that deathlooks less terrible now. Perhaps that is because it is so near. Tome, the specter seems to be receding."
"Did the captain tell you we had any chance of escape, senorita?" askedthe Spanish maid.
"What hope did Captain Courtenay hold out?" demanded Mrs. Somerville,who had listened to Isobel's raving with small comprehension.
Elsie left unuttered the protest on her lips. They all thought shepossessed Courtenay's confidence in the same extraordinary degree.Well, she would try to impart consolation in that way. It wasridiculous, but it would serve.
"Of course we are in a desperate situation," she said, "but while theship holds together there is always a chance of rescue, and you can seequite clearly that she is far from breaking up yet."
"Rescue! Did he speak of rescue?" cried Isobel. "That is impossible,unless we take to the boats. And the cry in the saloon was that twoboats were lost long ago and a third just now. That is why we werebrought on deck. Were they launching a boat?"
"I don't know," said Elsie. "I was here quite alone, except for Joey."
"Ah, it was true then. He was acting secretly, and the men broke looseas soon as they heard of it."
Elsie found this recurring suspicion of Courtenay's motives harder tobear than the preceding paroxysm of unreasoning rage. She had heardthe shooting, bellowing, and tramping on deck, and she knew that someterrible scene was being enacted there, while the mere fact that thecaptain himself placed the female passengers in his cabin proved thathe was doing his best for all.
"I do not believe for one instant that Captain Courtenay was actingotherwise than as a brave and honorable gentleman," she said; and thenthe fantastic folly of such a dispute at such a moment overcame her.She drew apart from Isobel, leaned against the wall of the cabin, andwept unrestrainedly.
Her companions in misfortune did not realize how greatly her calmself-reliance had comforted them until they witnessed this unlooked-forcollapse. The Spanish maid slipped to her knees, Mrs. Somerville beganto rock in her chair in a new agony, and Isobel, to whom a turbulentspirit denied the relief of tears when they were most needed, buriedher face in a curtain which draped one of the windows.
It was thus that Courtenay found them, when he appeared at the doorafter a lapse of time which none of them could measure.
"Now, Miss Maxwell, you first," he said with an air of authority whichbetokened some new move of utmost importance.
"First--for what?" she managed to ask.
"You are going off in a boat. It is your best chance. Please bequick."
"No, Miss Baring goes before me. Then the others, I shall come last."
"Have it as you will. I addressed you because you were nearest thedoor. Come along, Miss Baring."
He waited for no further words. He grasped Isobel's arm and led herout into the darkness. It seemed to be a very long time before hereturned.
"Now, Mrs. Somerville," he said, but that unhappy lady was so unnervedthat he had to carry her.
"Can you manage to bring the maid?" he asked over his shoulder toElsie. This trust in her drove away the weakness which had conqueredher under Isobel's taunts. She stooped over the maid, but the girlwrestled and fought with her in frantic dread of the passage along thedeck and of facing that howling sea in a small boat.
Elsie herself was almost worn out when Courtenay came back. He took inthe situation at a glance. He picked up the shrieking maid in hisstrong arms.
"You won't mind waiting for me," he said to Elsie.
"Don't attempt to come alone. You are too exhausted."
It was a fine thing to do, but she smiled at him to show that she couldstill repay his confidence.
"I shall wait," she said simply.
So she was left there, all alone again, without even the dog to bearher company.