Part 4 (1/2)
Barret was not, however, to be silenced by his friend's jest.
”Listen,” he said, earnestly, as he rose and stood in an att.i.tude of intense attention. ”It may be imagination playing with the subjects of our recent conversation, but I cannot help thinking that I hear the beating of paddles.”
”Keep a sherp look-oot, Shames,” cried the skipper, suddenly, as he went forward with unwonted alacrity.
A few minutes more and the sound which had at first been distinguished only by Barret's sharp ear, became audible to all--the soft regular patting of a paddle-wheel steamer in the distance, yet clearly coming towards them. Presently a shrill sound, very faint but prolonged, was heard, showing that she was blowing her steam-whistle as a precaution.
”Strange, is it not, that the very thing we have been talking about should happen?” said Mabberly.
”Nay,” returned Jackman, lightly, ”we were talking about being run down, and we have not yet come to that.”
”The strangest thing of all to me,” said Barret, ”is that, with a wide ocean all round, vessels should ever run into each other at all, at least on the open sea, for there is only one line, a few feet wide, in favour of such an accident, whereas there are thousands of miles against it.”
Jackman, who was a great theorist, here propounded a reason for this.
”If vessels would only hold straight on their courses, you see,” he said, ”the accident of collision would be exceedingly rare, for, although thousands of s.h.i.+ps might pa.s.s near to each other, not one in ten thousand would meet; but when vessels come pretty near, their commanders sometimes become anxious, take fancies into their heads, as to each having forgotten the `rules of the road,' and each attempting to correct the other--as we do sometimes in the streets--they bring about the very disaster they are trying to avoid.”
”Had we not better ring the bell, Captain?” cried Mabberly, in rising excitement.
”Oo ay, if you think so, sir. Ring, poy!”
The boy, who was getting alarmed, seized the tongue of the s.h.i.+p's bell, and rang with all his might. Whether this had the effect to which Jackman had referred, we cannot tell, but next moment what appeared to be a mountain loomed out of the mist. The steam-whistle had been silent for some time, but as soon as the bell was heard it burst forth with increased fury. From the instant her form was dimly seen the fate of the yacht was sealed. There was a wild shouting on board the steamer, but there was no time for action.
”Starboard hard!” was the cry.
”Starboard it is!” was the immediate answer. But before the helm could act, the great rus.h.i.+ng ma.s.s struck the _Fairy_ amids.h.i.+ps, and literally cut her in two!
The awful suddenness of a catastrophe, which those on board had just been arguing was all but impossible, seemed to have paralysed every one, for no one made the slightest effort to escape. Perhaps the appearance of the wall-like bow of the steamer, without rope or projection of any kind to lay hold of, or jump at, might have conveyed the swift perception that their case was hopeless. At all events, they all went under with the doomed yacht, and nothing was left in the wake of the leviathan but a track of foam on the mist-enc.u.mbered sea.
But they were not lost! One after another the wrecked party rose struggling to the surface, and all of them could swim except the boy.
Giles Jackman was the first who rose. Treading water and brus.h.i.+ng the hair out of his eyes, he gazed wildly about. Barret came up close beside him, almost a moment later. He had barely taken breath, when the others rose at various distances. A cry not far from him caused him to turn. It was poor Robin Tips, struggling for life. A few powerful strokes carried Barret alongside. He got behind the boy, caught him under the armpits, and thus held him, at arm's length, until he could quiet him.
”There is a spar, thank G.o.d! Make for it, Barret, while I see to Quin,”
shouted Jackman.
As he spoke, they could hear the whistle of the steamer rus.h.i.+ng away from them.
Barret, forcing himself breast-high out of the water, glanced quickly round, and caught sight of the floating spar, to which his companion had referred. Although only a few yards off, the fog rendered it almost invisible.
”Are you quiet now?” demanded Barret, in a stern voice, for the terrified boy still showed something like a hysterical determination to turn violently round, and grasp his rescuer in what would probably have turned out to be the grip of death.
”Yes, sir, oh! yes. But d-don't let me go! M-mind, I can't swim!”
”You are perfectly safe if you simply do nothing but what I tell you,”
returned Barret, in a quiet, ordinary tone of voice, that rea.s.sured the poor lad more than the words.
By way of reply he suddenly became motionless, and as limp as a dead eel.
Getting gradually on his back, and drawing Tips slowly on to his chest, so that he rested with his mouth upwards, and his head entirely out of the water, Barret struck out for the spar, swimming thus on his back.