"How long shall you keep on this tack?" I asked Caudel.
"All night, sir, if the wind don"t head us yet. It won"t put us far off our port even at this."
"Shall you sight the _Start_ light?"
"No, sir. Our stretching away all day"ll have put it out of our _spear_ of view. The Lizard light"ll be all I want, and this time twenty-four hours I hope to be well on to it."
I went below, and Grace and I killed the time as heretofore in talking and reading. We found the evening too short indeed, so much had we to say to each other. Wonderful is the quality and the amount of talk which lovers are able to get through and feel satisfied with! You hear of silent love, of lovers staring on one another with glowing eyes, their lips incapable of the emotions and sensations which crowd their quick hearts and fill their throats with sighs. This may be very well too; but, for my part, I have generally observed that lovers have a very great deal to talk about. Remark an engaged couple; sooner than be silent they will whisper if there be company present; and when alone, or when they think themselves alone, their tongues--particularly the girl"s--are never still. Grace and I were of a talking age--two-and-twenty, and one not yet eighteen; our minds had no knowledge of life, no experience, nothing in them to keep them steady; they were set in motion by the lightest, the most trivial breath of thought, and idly danced in us in the manner of some gossamer-light, topmost leaf to the faintest movement of the summer air.
She withdrew to her berth at ten o"clock that night with a radiant face and laughing eyes, for inane as the evening must have shown to others, to us it had been one of perfect felicity; not a single sigh had escaped her, and twice had I mentioned the name of Mrs. Howe without witnessing any change of countenance in her.
I went on deck to take a last look round, and found all well; no change in the weather, the breeze a brisk and steady pouring out of the north, and Caudel pacing the deck well satisfied with our progress. I returned below without any feeling of uneasiness, and sat at the cabin table for some ten minutes or so to smoke out a cigar, and to refresh myself with a gla.s.s of seltzer and brandy. A sort of dream-like feeling came upon me as I sat. I found it hard to realise that my sweetheart was close to me, separated only by a curtained door from the cabin I was musing in. What was to follow this adventure? Was it possible that Lady Amelia Roscoe would oppose any obstacle to our union after even _this_ a.s.sociation of three or four days as it might be? I gazed at the mirrors I had equipped the cabin with--picked up a handkerchief my sweetheart had left behind her and kissed it--stared at the little silver shining lamp that swung over my head--pulled a flower and smelt it in a vacant sort of way of which, nevertheless, I was perfectly sensible.... Is there anything wrong with my nerves to-night? thought I.
I extinguished my cigar and went to bed. It was then about a quarter to eleven, and till past one I lay awake, weary, yet unable to sleep.
I lay listening to the frothing and seething of the water thrashing along the bends, broken into at regular intervals by the low thunder of the surge, burying my cabin porthole and rising to the line of the rail as the yacht"s stern sank with a long slanting heel-over of the whole fabric. I fell asleep at last, and as I afterwards gathered, slept till somewhat after three o"clock in the morning. I was awakened by suddenly and violently rolling out of my bunk. The fall was a heavy one; I was a big fellow, and struck the plank of the deck hard, and though I was instantly awakened by the shock of the capsisal, I lay for some moments in a condition of stupefaction, sensible of nothing but that I had tumbled out of my bunk.
The little berth was in pitch darkness, and I lay, as I have said, motionless and almost dazed, till my ear caught a sound of shrieking ringing through a wild but subdued note of storm on deck, mingled with loud and fearful shouts, as of men bawling for life or death, with a trembling in every plank and fastening of the little fabric as though she were tearing herself to pieces. I got on to my legs, but the angle of the deck was so prodigious that I leaned helpless against the bulkhead, to the base of which I had rolled, though unconsciously. The shrieks were continued; I recognised Grace"s voice, and the sound put a sort of frenzy into me, insomuch that, scarcely knowing how I managed, I had in an instant, opened the door of my little berth, and was standing, grabbing hold of the cabin table, shouting to let her know that I was awake and up, and that I heard her.
_Now_, the uproar of what I took to be a squall of hurricane power was to be easily heard. The bellowing of the wind was horrible, and it was made more terrifying to land-going ears by the incessant hoa.r.s.e shouts of the fellows on deck; but bewildered as I was, agitated beyond expression, not knowing but that as I stood there, gripping the table and shouting my sweetheart"s name, the yacht might be foundering under my feet, I had wits enough to observe that the vessel was slowly recovering a level keel, rising from the roof-like slant which had flung me from my bed to an inclination that rendered the use of one"s legs possible. I likewise noticed that she neither plunged nor rolled with greater heaviness than I had observed in her before I lay down.
The sensation of her motion was as though she was slowly rounding before the wind, and beginning to scud over a surface that had been almost flattened by a hurricane-burst into a dead level of snow. I could hear no noise of breaking seas nor of rushing water, nothing but a cauldron-like hissing, through which rolled the notes of the storm in echoes of great ordnance.
Fortunately, I had no need to clothe myself, since on lying down I had removed nothing but my coat, collar and shoes. I had a little silver match-box in my trouser"s pocket, and swiftly struck a match and lighted the lamp and looked at Grace"s door expecting to find her standing in it. It was closed, and she continued to scream. It was no time for ceremony; I opened the door, and called to know how it was with her.
"Oh, Herbert, save me!" she shrieked; "the yacht is sinking."
"No," I cried, "she has been struck by a gale of wind. I will find out what is the matter. Are you hurt?"
"The yacht is sinking!" she repeated in a wild voice of terror.
Spite of the lamplight in the cabin, the curtain and the door combined eclipsed the sheen, and I could not see her.
"Are you in bed, dearest?"
"Yes," she cried.
"Are you hurt, my precious?"
"No, but my heart has stopped with fright. We shall be drowned. Oh, Herbert, the yacht is sinking!"
"Remain as you are, Grace. I shall return to you in a moment. Do not imagine that the yacht is sinking. I know by the buoyant feel of her movements that she is safe."
And thus hurriedly speaking I left her, satisfied that her shrieks had been produced by terror only; nor did I wish her to rise, lest the yacht should again suddenly heel to her first extravagantly dreadful angle, and throw her, and break a limb, or injure her more cruelly yet.
The companion hatch was closed. The feeling of being imprisoned raised such a feeling of consternation in me that I stood in the hatch as one paralysed, then terror set me pounding upon the cover with my fists, till you would have thought in a few moments I must have reduced it to splinters. After a little, during which I hammered with might and main, roaring out the name of Caudel, the cover was cautiously lifted to the height of a few inches, letting in a very yell of wind, such a shock and blast of it that I was forced, back off the ladder as though by a blow in the face, and in a breath the light went out.
"It"s all right, Mr. Barclay," cried the voice of Caudel, hoa.r.s.e and yet shrill too with the life and death cries he had been delivering.
"A gale of wind"s busted down upon us. We"ve got the yacht afore it whilst we clear away the wreckage. There"s no call to be alarmed, sir.
On my word and honour as a man there"s no call, sir. I beg you not to come on deck yet--ye"ll only be in the way. Trust to me, sir--it"s all right, I say," and the hatch was closed again.
Wreckage! The word sounded as miserably in my ear as though it had been the shout of "Heaven have mercy upon us!" What had been wrecked?
What had happened? Was the yacht stove? Had we lost our mast? I had heard no crash, no noise of splintering, no resounding thump as of a fall. I listened, struck another match, and then lighted the lamp afresh. I might know now that the _Spitfire_ was dead before the wind, seething almost soundlessly through the foam of the storm-swept surface. She was going along with a steadiness that was startling when one thought of and listened to the weather; for her plunges were so long and buoyant as to be scarcely noticeable, whilst sea and swell being directly in her wake, her rolling was of the lightest. This scudding likewise took something of the weight out of the blast howling after us; the echo as of thunder penetrating to the cabin was, comparatively speaking, dulled; but I was sailor enough to know that we should be having a heavy sea anon, and that if the yacht was crippled aloft or injured below, then the merciful powers only knew how it was going to end with us.
These thoughts were in my mind as I lighted the lamp. I now knocked on Grace"s door, and told her to rise and dress herself, and join me in the cabin.
"There is no danger," I shouted, "nothing but a pa.s.sing capful of wind."
She made some answer which I could not catch, but I might be sure that the upright posture and buoyant motions of the scudding yacht had tranquillised her mind; moreover, all sounds would penetrate her berth in very m.u.f.fled tones. Still, if she looked at her watch, she might wonder why she had to rise and dress at half-past three o"clock in the morning!
I sat alone for some ten minutes, during which the height and volume of the sea sensibly increased, though as the yacht continued flying dead before the wind, her plunges were still too long and gradual to be distressing. Occasionally a shout would sound on deck, but what the men were about I could not conceive.
The door of the forward berth was opened, and Grace entered the cabin.
Her face was white as death; her large eyes, which seemed of a coal blackness in the lamplight, and by contrast with the hue of her cheeks, sparkled with alarm. She swept them round the cabin, as though she expected to behold one knows not what sort of horror, then came to my side and linked my arm tightly in hers.
"Oh, Herbert, tell me the truth. What has happened?"
"Nothing serious, darling. Do you not feel that we are afloat and sailing bravely?"
"But just now? Did not the yacht turn over? Something was broken on deck, and the men began to shriek."
"And so did you, Grace," said I, trying to smile.
"But if we should be drowned?" she cried, drawing closer to me, and fastening her sweet, terrified eyes upon my face.
I shook my head, still preserving my smile, though Heaven knows, had my countenance taken its expression from my mood, it must have shown as long as the yacht herself. I could see her straining her ears to listen, whilst her gaze--large, bright, her brows arched, her lips parted, her breast swiftly heaving--roamed over the cabin.
"What is that noise of thunder, Herbert?"
"It is the wind," I answered.
"Are not the waves getting up? Oh! feel this!" she cried, as the yacht rose with velocity and something of violence to the under-running hurl of a chasing sea, of a power that was but too suggestive of what we were to expect.
"The _Spitfire_ is a stanch, n.o.ble little craft," said I, "built for North Sea weather. She is not to be daunted by anything that can happen hereabouts."
"But what _has_ happened?" she cried, irritable with alarm.
I was about to utter the first rea.s.suring sentence that occurred to my mind, when the companion was slid a little way back, and I just caught sight of a pair of legs ere the cabin lamp was extinguished by such another yell and blast of wind as had before nearly stretched me.
Grace shrieked and threw her arms round my neck; the cover was closed, and the interior, instantly becalmed again.
"Who"s that?" I roared.
"Me, sir," sounded a voice out of the blackness where the companion steps stood; "Files, sir. The captain asked me to step below to report what"s happened. He dursn"t leave the deck himself."
I released myself from my darling"s clinging embrace and lighted the lamp for the third time.
Files, wrapped in streaming oilskins, resembled an ebony figure over which a bucket of dripping has been emptied, as he stood at the foot of the steps with but a bit of his wet, grey-coloured face showing betwixt the ear-flaps and under the fore-thatch of his sou"wester.
"Now for your report, Files, and bear a hand with it for mercy"s sake."