Part 17 (1/2)

Having started to visit the wounded Frenchman, he wished to do so before he tried to find his way aft again to ascertain the state of the case.

He lifted the hatch off and dived below. All was dark. There were no means of procuring a light in the place.

”I say, Monsieur Frenchman, how are you?” he began, groping his way towards the bunk where the prisoner lay.

A groan showed that the man was not dead. True Blue remembered that there was some food in one of the lockers. Taking some sausages and biscuit, he put them into the man's hand. ”Here, eat; you're hungry, I daresay.”

”Merci! merci! de l'eau-de-vie, je vous prie, donnez-moi de l'eau-de-vie.”

Billy, on searching about, had found a can with a little water at the bottom of it, and a flask of spirits; so, guessing what the man wanted, he poured some of the spirits into the can and gave it to him.

The draught must have been very refres.h.i.+ng, for the Frenchman's expression of grat.i.tude knew no limits. He made True Blue understand that he had better take something himself. This, as he was very hungry, he was nothing loth to do; but he had not eaten much, and had only taken one pull at the grog can when he recollected his friends. He felt that he could eat nothing more until he had ascertained their fate.

”If they are alive, they'll want to eat,” he said to himself. ”They can't be gone--no, no; I won't believe it.”

So he filled his pockets with as many sausages and as much biscuit as they could carry, and, shaking the Frenchman by the hand to show that he would not be forgotten, he ascended the ladder, closed the fore-hatch behind him, and began his perilous journey towards the stern. The sea on one side, he discovered, had made so complete a wreck, that he knew, should he slip, there would be nothing to prevent his going overboard.

The greatest caution therefore was necessary. He could feel the ringbolts, but he could not see them, or indeed any object by which to secure himself. On hands and knees he crept on, feeling his way. He had got as far as the main hatchway when he saw another sea rising. He clung, as before, to a ringbolt. Over came the water with a furious rush, which would have carried any one unprepared for it away. He felt his arm strained to the utmost; still he had no notion of letting go.

When the sea had pa.s.sed over, the vessel was steadier for an instant than she had been. He took the opportunity to make a bold rush to the nearest part of the bulwarks remaining entire. He now got aft with less difficulty. His heart felt lighter when he saw the group he expected standing there; but Paul didn't come forward to welcome him. Instead, he heard Marline's voice say, ”Rouse up, Pringle; rouse up, mate--the boy is safe.”

True Blue was in an instant kneeling down by the side of his guardian.

”I am here, Paul, I am here; Billy True Blue all right, G.o.dfather!” he exclaimed, putting his mouth to Paul's ear.

”What has happened? Is he hurt?” he asked.

”He has hurt his side and ribs, and we are afraid he has broken his leg,” answered Marline. ”We all thought that you were gone--washed clean away, boy; but he wouldn't believe it, and started off to look for you, when a sea took him and washed him back in the state you now see him. He was nearly carried overboard, and we have had hard work to save him.”

True Blue forgot everything else but the state of his friend, till at length Paul came to himself and comprehended what had occurred. The knowledge that his G.o.dson was safe seemed to revive him. Billy then remembered the provisions he had got in his pocket, and served them out among his companions, the two prisoners getting an equal share.

Dawn came at last, and presented a fearful scene of wreck and confusion: the dark-green seas were rising up on every side, topped with foam, which came down in showers on the deck, blown off by the fierce wind; while the lately trim brig lay shattered and dismantled, and, too evidently, far deeper in the water than she had been before the gale.

Not a boat remained; there were not even the means of making a raft.

”But what can we do, Paul?” asked True Blue, thinking how sad it was that his fine old friend should thus ingloriously lose his life. Paul smiled as he answered:

”Trust in Providence, boy. That's the best sheet-anchor a seaman can hold to when he's done his duty and can do no more. There are others as badly off as we are, depend on that.”

When his G.o.dfather had ceased speaking, True Blue cast his eye around in the faint hope that some aid might possibly be at hand. As he did so, he saw that several pieces of wreck were floating round the brig. As the light increased, he thought he saw the form of a man on one of them.

He looked again; he pointed the spar out to the rest: they were of the same opinion. The man was alive, too. He saw the wreck, he waved to them, he turned his face with a look imploring a.s.sistance.

”Here, Tom, make this rope fast round me; I think that I can reach that poor fellow. The next send of the sea will bring him close alongside.”

Though True Blue was a first-rate swimmer for his age, Marline demurred and appealed to Pringle.

”He is only a Frenchman and an enemy, after all,” argued Marline.

”He's a fellow-creature, Tom,” answered True Blue. ”Here, make fast the rope. I am sure I can save him.”

”Will you let him go, Paul?” asked Tom as a last resource.

Paul raised himself on his arm.