and stood frowning, as he leaned over him, felt his pulse, and then laid his hand upon the poor lad’s head.
“Impossible,” he said; “it would crush out the flickering flame of life. He cannot be moved.”
As he spoke he threw the clothes aside and went sharply towards the door and looked out, to see that the passengers were crowding up the cabin stairs in an awful silence, the horror of their position having brought them to a state of despairing calm.
The doctor stood looking at them for a few moments, and then turned to cross to his patient’s side, bending over him for a few moments, and then sinking into the seat by his side.
Chapter Three.
Meanwhile, after he had ineffectually tried everything possible to bring the steamer’s head to wind by means of the sails, the captain had to give up and let her drift, rolling heavily in the trough of the sea.
The storm still raged with terrific fury, and it was evident that the unmanageable vessel was being borne rapidly along.
But by slow degrees the violence of the wind began to abate, and fresh efforts were made in the semi-darkness, and with the waves thundering over the deck from time to time, to hoist something in the way of sail.
The men raised a cheer as this was at last successfully accomplished, and once more obeying her helm the great vessel ceased rolling, and rushed on for a few hundred yards at headlong speed.
But it was only to her fate, for rising high upon a huge billow she was borne on for a short
There seemed nothing more to be done but strive in the darkness to save life, and captain and officers clung together and worked manfully.
The minute after the vessel had struck on the reef there was a rush for the boats, but the officers were prepared. Revolvers leaped out, and three or four men were struck down, the captain setting the example.
Then the fit of insubordination died out on the spot, and in perfect order one of the boats was filled with women passengers and a crew, the moment was watched, and it was cast off and floated away on a huge wave, to be seen for a few moments, before it disappeared in the darkness.
Boat after boat was successfully despatched in this way without a single hitch, each receiving its crew commanded by one of the officers; and at last the barge only was left for the remainder and the captain, the last passenger having gone in the boat despatched before—the last so far as could be remembered in the hurry and confusion of the weird scene.
There was ample room for all as the captain stood holding on while men hurriedly brought up and threw in bags of biscuit and such necessaries as could be obtained in the hurry, the barge lying in its chocks, lifting with every wave and ready to float out at the open side at any time.
“Now then,” cried the captain, in a voice hoarse from continuous shouting, “you, Bostock, down below with you and help the doctor bring up the young passenger.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” cried the old sailor, and he waited a moment to avoid the water and then made a rush for the saloon cabin.
The next minute he was down below.
“Now, sir, quick,” he said; “boat’s just off. What! not ready?”
“It is impossible to move him, my man,” said the doctor in sombre tones.
“It’s murder to keep him here, sir,” cried the old sailor. “Come on—for your life!”
As he spoke he caught Carey in his arms before the doctor could interfere, dashed open the door, and quickly carried the insensible lad up to the sea-washed deck, to stand aghast and then hold on for his life.
For something white and ghastly, fringed with phosphorescent light, seemed to rise over the ship’s side, curve down over, glide under the barge lying in its chocks, and then lift the laden boat away over the open side.
It was seen for a few moments and then disappeared, going in one swift glide away into the darkness, leaving the doctor, his patient, and the old sailor amidst the hissing waters alone upon the deck.
Chapter Four.
“Here’s another coming,” roared Bostock, hoarsely. “Back into shelter, or we shall be swept away.”
He set the example, still bearing the insensible boy, and the next minute they had reached the comparative security of the saloon, where the water was now washing to and fro, coming in with a rush and pouring out again.
The first efforts of the two men were now directed towards carefully placing Carey high and dry in an upper berth of one of the state-room cabins, where a lamp was still burning steadily as it swung to and fro.
“Hasn’t killed him, has it, sir?” growled Bostock, excitedly, as the doctor examined his patient.
“No; he is breathing easily, and the bandages have not shifted,” replied the doctor, who then turned upon his companion in misfortune and said in a hard, defiant way: “Well, my man, this seems hard luck; we’re left in the lurch. I suppose the captain will not come back to take us off.”
“Come back and take us off, sir?” said the old sailor, with a bitter laugh. “Not him. He’s got his work cut out to keep that barge afloat. Lord help ’em all, I say, all on ’em in those open boats. There they are afloat among reefs and breakers in a storm like this. For aught we know, sir, they’re all capsized and washing about like so much chaff by now.”
“Then you think we’re better off than they are?”
“No, I don’t,” growled the old man, sourly, as a wave came thundering over the vessel, shaking it from bow to stern. “It won’t be long before one of them breakers’ll make a way in and bust up part of the deck; and after that it won’t be long before she’s ripped in pieces. Lor’ a mussy! the power of a thousand tons o’ water going miles an hour’s awful. Shreds beams into matches, and twists ironwork like wire. It only means a few minutes more to live, doctor; and, as you say, it do seem hard. Poor boy!” he continued, laying his great rough hand tenderly on Carey’s breast. “All his young life before him, and nipped off sudden like this.”
“Poor boy, yes,” said the doctor, gently. “But I’m thankful that he is quite insensible, and will not know the agony we have to face.”
The old sailor looked curiously in his companion’s face.
“Agony!” he said, slowly; “agony! Well, I suppose it is, but I’ve been face to face with the end so many times that I suppose I’ve got a bit blunt. Do you know, sir, it seems to nip me more about that poor young chap than it does about myself.”
The doctor looked at the speaker searchingly for a few moments, and then said, quietly:
“Can we do anything to try and save his life, my man? Life-preservers, raft, or anything of that sort?”
The old sailor laughed softly.
“Life-preserver in a sea like this means being smothered in a few minutes, and such a raft as we could make would be knocked to pieces and us washed off. No, sir; we’re in shelter where we can die peaceably, and all we can do is to meet it like men.”
The doctor’s brow