Part 2 (1/2)
Suddenly above the monotonous clank of the piston-rods came a hideous grinding sound. The cylinders began to give out vast columns of steam, as the engines ran at terrifying speed.
Through the vapour Ellerton could discern the ”chief,” galvanised into extraordinary alertness, make a rush for a valve, while his a.s.sistants, shouting and gesticulating, dashed hither and thither amid the confined s.p.a.ces between the quivering machinery.
The main shaft had broken, and the _San Martin_ was helpless in the teeth of the hurricane.
CHAPTER II
AGROUND
For a brief instant Ellerton hesitated; ought he to return to his friends or make his way for'ard? The _San Martin_, losing steerage way, was rolling horribly in the trough of the sea; any instant she might turn turtle.
There was a rush of terrified firemen from the grim inferno of the stokeholds; the engineers, having taken necessary precautions against an explosion of the boilers, hastened to follow their example, scrambling in a struggling ma.s.s between the narrow opening of the partially closed hatchway.
Clearly Ellerton had no means of gaining the deck in the rear of that human press; so lurching and staggering along the alley-way he made his way aft, where he met Mr. McKay, who, a.s.sisted by Andy, was about to go on deck. Terence, looking a picture of utter misery in the yellow light of the saloon, and Quexo, his olive skin ashy grey with fear, had already joined the others.
”Come on, Hoppy,” shouted Andy cheerfully. ”Give me a hand with the governor. Terence, you had better stay here.”
Carefully watching their chance, the two lads managed to help Mr. McKay to the shelter of the p.o.o.p deck-house, and they were about to return for Donaghue and the mulatto when they encountered Captain Perez and the first mate. Both were in a state bordering on frenzy, the captain rolling his eyes and calling for the protection of a thousand saints, while the mate was mumbling mechanically the last compa.s.s course, ”Sur oeste, cuarto oeste” (S.W. by W.).
The cowardly officers had deserted their posts!
In an instant Fanshaw Ellerton saw his chance--and took it.
”Stop him, Andy!” he shouted, setting the example by throwing himself upon the Peruvian skipper.
The man did not resist; he seemed incapable of doing anything.
”Don't bother about the other,” hissed the apprentice. ”Make this chap come with us to the bridge. I'll be the skipper and he'll be the figurehead.”
The two chums dragged the captain across the heaving deck, up the swaying monkey-ladder, and gained the lofty bridge.
Ellerton glanced to windward. His seamans.h.i.+p, poor though it was, began to a.s.sert itself. The wind was going down slightly, but, veering to the nor'ard, was causing a horrible jumble of cross-seas--not so lofty as the mountainous waves a few hours ago, but infinitely more trying.
The _San Martin_, swept on bow, quarter, and broadside, rolled and pitched, the white cascades pouring from her storm-washed decks; yet Ellerton realised that she possessed a considerable amount of buoyancy by the way she shook herself clear of the tons of water that poured across her.
The wheel was deserted. The steersman, finding that his officers had fled and that the vessel carried no way, had followed his superior's example.
Cowering under the lee of the funnel casing were about twelve of the crew, including the bo'sun and quartermaster.
”Tell the captain,” yelled Ellerton to his chum, ”to order those men to set the storm staysail, if they value their hides.”
Andy interpreted the order, which the captain, gaining a faint suspicion of confidence, communicated to the bo'sun.
The bare chance of saving their lives urged the men into action.
Unharmed, they succeeded in gaining the fo'c'sle, and in less than ten minutes the stiff canvas was straining on the forestay.
Gathering way, the _San Martin_, no longer rolling, pounded sluggishly through the foam-flecked sea.
Ellerton would not risk setting any canvas aft; he was content to let the vessel drive.