Part 10 (1/2)
”Oh! Edith, how can you say that?” Natalie Brande exclaimed, still trembling. ”Such dreadful violence! The poor men knew no better.”
”Poor fiddlesticks! It is well for you that Marcel is a man of violence.
He's worth a dozen sheep like--”
”Like whom, Miss Metford?” Rockingham asked, glaring at her so viciously that I interposed with a hasty entreaty that all should hurry to the s.h.i.+p. I did not trust the man.
Miss Metford was not so easily suppressed. She said leisurely, ”I meant to say like you, and this over-nervous but otherwise admirable boy. If you think 'sheep' derogatory, pray make it 'goats.'”
I hurried them on board. Brande welcomed us at the gangway. The vessel was his own, so he was as much at home on the s.h.i.+p as in his country house. I had an important letter to write, and very little time for the task. It was not finished a moment too soon, for the moment the last pa.s.senger and the last bale of luggage was on board, the captain's telegraph rang from the bridge, and the _Esmeralda_ steamed out to sea.
My letter, however, was safe on sh.o.r.e. The land was low down upon the horizon before the long summer twilight deepened slowly into night. Then one by one the shadowy cliffs grew dim, dark, and disappeared. We saw no more of England until after many days of gradually culminating horror.
The very night which was our first at sea did not pa.s.s without a strange adventure, which happened, indeed, by an innocent oversight.
CHAPTER XI.
MORITURI TE SALUTANT.
We had been sitting on deck chairs smoking and talking for a couple of hours after the late dinner, which was served as soon as the vessel was well out to sea, when Brande came on deck. He was hailed with enthusiasm. This did not move him, or even interest him. I was careful not to join in the acclamations produced by his presence. He noticed this, and lightly called me recalcitrant. I admitted the justice of the epithet, and begged him to consider it one which would always apply to me with equal force. He laughed at this, and contrasted my gloomy fears with the excellent arrangements which he had made for my comfort. I asked him what had become of Grey. I thought it strange that this man should be amongst the absentees.
”Oh, Grey! He goes to Labrador.”
”To Labrador! What takes him to Labrador?”
”The same purpose which takes us to the Arafura Sea,” Brande answered, and pa.s.sed on.
Presently there was a slight stir amongst the people, and the word was pa.s.sed round that Brande was about to undertake some interesting experiment for the amus.e.m.e.nt of his guests. I hurried aft along with some other men with whom I had been talking, and found Miss Brande and Miss Metford standing hand in hand. Natalie's face was very white, and the only time I ever saw real fear upon it was at that moment. I thought the incident on the quay had unnerved her more than was apparent at the time, and that she was still upset by it. She beckoned to me, and when I came to her she seized my hand. She was trembling so much her words were hardly articulate. Miss Metford was concerned for her companion's nervousness; but otherwise indifferent; while Natalie stood holding our hands in hers like a frightened child awaiting the firing of a cannon.
”He's going to let off something, a rocket, I suppose,” Miss Metford said to me. ”Natalie seems to think he means to sink the s.h.i.+p.”
”He does not mean to do so. He might, if an accident occurred.”
”Is he going to fire a mine?” I asked.
”No, he is going to etherize a drop of water.” Natalie said this so seriously, we had no thought of laughter, incongruous as the cause of her fears might seem.
At that moment Brande addressed us from the top of the deckhouse, and explained that, in order to ill.u.s.trate on a large scale the most recent discovery in natural science, he was about to disintegrate a drop of water, at present encased in a hollow gla.s.s ball about the size of a pea, which he held between his thumb and forefinger. An electric light was turned upon him so that we could all see the thing quite plainly. He explained that there was a division in the ball; one portion of it containing the drop of water, and the other the agent by which, when the dividing wall was eaten through by its action, the atoms of the water would be resolved into the ultimate ether of which they were composed.
As the disintegrating agent was powerless in salt water, we might all feel a.s.sured that no great catastrophe would ensue.
Before throwing the gla.s.s ball overboard, a careful search for the lights of s.h.i.+ps was made from east to west, and north to south.
There was not a light to be seen anywhere. Brande threw the ball over the side. We were going under easy steam at the time, but the moment he left the deckhouse ”full speed ahead” was rung from the bridge, and the _Esmeralda_ showed us her pace. She literally tore through the water when the engines were got full on.
Before we had gone a hundred yards a great cry arose. A little fleet of French fis.h.i.+ng-boats with no lights up had been lying very close to us on the starboard bow. There they were, boatfuls of men, who waved careless adieus to us as we dashed past.
Brande was moved for a moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders and muttered, ”It can't be helped now.” We all felt that these simple words might mean much. To test their full portent I went over to him, Natalie still holding my hand with trembling fingers.