Part 19 (1/2)

”If he cannot trust us, we two must teach him--mustn't we, Gjert?”

CHAPTER XXIII.

Towards dinner-time Salve and Nils Buvaagen were standing for a moment together by the s.h.i.+p's side.

The storm had perceptibly lulled, but the weather was still dull and hazy, and the sea high. Two or three sea-gulls were circling drearily between them and the coast, where they could now see a long line of yellow foaming breakers like a huge wall, rising and falling on the sandbanks, with here and there a mast-high jet of spray from some reef outside. Although the wind was on sh.o.r.e they could hear the dull thunder of the breakers there, and a kind of dim rumbling in the air. The next three or four hours would obviously decide their fate.

Neither spoke; each was occupied with his own reflections. Nils was thinking of his wife and children at home, and Salve of his future. It was hard to lose the brig; he had worked hard for the money she represented, and he would have now to begin again on the lowest step of the ladder--if he escaped with his life, that was to say.

Less selfish thoughts succeeded then, and he turned to Nils.

”What I feel most in this business, Nils,” he said, earnestly, ”is the thought that you or any of the others may perhaps pay the penalty for my mad sailing last night, with your lives. The brig is my own affair.”

”Oh, it will be all right, captain, you'll see,” replied Nils, cheeringly. ”If we can hang on to the old craft while she b.u.mps over the banks, we shall manage somehow or other inside I expect.”

”G.o.d grant it!” said Salve, and turned away.

Nils remained standing where he was for a moment, and something like a spasm pa.s.sed across his heavy features. He believed their situation to be desperate, and the vision of his home again rose before him, and almost choked him.

”Relieve the pumps!” was heard. It was his turn again, and he gave himself unweariedly to the work.

Salve seemed like one conscience-smitten. His face wore an expression of strained uneasiness, and his look more and more, as the moments pa.s.sed, betokened the consciousness that a struggle for life was before them.

Through the gla.s.s a knot of people could be seen gathering on the downs which ran along the coast, with their jagged formations showing out in tones of dim violet and blue.

He stood now in the companion with his wife and his child, and sighed heavily as he looked at them.

”I would gladly give the brig, and be reduced to my own two hands once more, to have last night over again, Elizabeth!” he said.

She pressed his hand with an expression of sympathy, which answered him better than words; and the next moment he was again the practical man, showing her how she might tie the child to her breast with a handkerchief.

”I can't stay with you any longer now,” he said. ”I am responsible for the lives of all on board, and must do my duty by them.”

”Do your duty, Salve,” she said.

”And so,” he concluded, as, trying to conceal his emotion, he stroked her forehead and then the child's, ”you must keep a good heart. When the pinch comes I shall be at your side, and we shall win through it, you'll see.”

”With G.o.d's gracious help!” she answered; ”remember that, Salve.”

He strode away then down the deck and called the crew aft to take counsel with him on the situation. The vessel was rapidly becoming water-logged.

”Listen, my lads!” he said; ”this is a serious business, as you can all very clearly see. But if we only have stout hearts we may get out of it yet, at all events with our lives. We have about three hours still before we run upon the sandbanks; but by that time it will have begun to get dark, and it may be difficult for the people on sh.o.r.e to come to our rescue. We must steer straight in and choose the likeliest place ourselves; and if you are of the same way of thinking we'll head for the sh.o.r.e now at once, rather than wait to have the old craft flung over the banks in the dark like a dead fish.”

The crew were silent, and looked anxiously over towards the land. But when Nils Buvaagen declared himself a supporter of the captain's plan by crossing over the deck to him, all the others followed.

Salve went himself to the wheel, and gave the order to ”Ease off the sheet.”

”Ease it is,” was the answer; and that was the last order ever given on board the Apollo.

Running now before the wind, they rapidly approached the land. Salve stood at the wheel, resting his knee from time to time on one of the spokes, with a concentrated look on his dark keen face, and his eye searching like a kite's along the coast for the place they were to make for. A couple of times he took up the gla.s.s and directed it towards the downs, where a group of people were moving about.