Part 48 (1/2)
”Howsomever, we're all high and dry on the reefs, gal, and it seems likely you're the only one can get us off. You ain't got to go away from here, if you don't want to. I've made it pretty average plain to that Bostwick gal that no matter what happens, she's got no expectations as far as Prudence and me are concerned. It was money and nothing but money she was after. Her being Prudence's niece in kind of a far-fetched way don't make it our duty--not even our Christian duty, as Elder Minnett calls it--to keep a gal in the house that we don't want, nor yet die at her convenience and leave her our money. And so I'll tell the elder if he undertakes to put his spoon in the dish again.”
Sheila was listening to words that she had never expected to hear from the old captain. Could this be true? Were Cap'n Ira and Prudence, in spite of what they knew about her--what she had told them and Ida May had told them--desirous of having her back? Was there a chance, no matter what the real Ida May Bostwick could say, for Sheila to return and take up her peaceful life with the b.a.l.l.s?
Could this be real? Indeed, was it right for her to do this? Tunis--
She arose and walked to the open door, looking out almost blindly at first upon the gale-smitten sea. It was like her heart--so tossed about and fretted by winds of opinion. What should she do? Which way should she turn? Not to save Sheila Macklin from trouble or disgrace. Not even to save Tunis from possible scorn. The question that a.s.sailed her now was only: _Was it right?_
Suddenly, out upon the mountainous waves, she spied a sail. It was reefed, flattened down, almost tri-cornered. The two sticks of the schooner and the jaunty bowsprit pointing skyward heaved again into view. She stood so long gazing at the craft that Cap'n Ira spoke again.
”What d'ye say, gal?” he asked anxiously.
”Look--look here, Cap'n Ira!” she exclaimed. ”Can it be the _Seamew_? Is she trying to head in for the channel? Oh! Are they in danger out there?”
The old man rose with his usual difficulty and hobbled to the door, leaning on his cane. He peered out over her shoulder, and his keen and experienced eyes saw and identified the laboring vessel almost at once.
”I swan! That is the _Seamew_, Ida May,” he exclaimed. ”Tut, tut!
What's Tunis got himself into such a pickle for? 'Tain't reasonable he should--being as good a seaman as he is.
”My, my! Why don't he get some cloth on her? He can't have lost all his upper canvas. Don't he know he needs tops'ls to beat up aslant of this gale and get into the shelter of the Head? I swan! If there's men enough there to man her proper, why don't they do the right thing?”
”Oh, Cap'n Ball,” gasped the girl, ”perhaps there are not enough men with him. Perhaps his crew has deserted again.”
”I swan!” rejoined the old man. ”What did he set sail for, then?
Ain't he got a mite of sense? But, I tell ye, Ida May, if he don't get more canvas on her, and get under better way, he'll never make that channel in this world.”
”Oh!”
”The schooner's sure to go on the outer reef. She never can claw off the land now. Without help--if that's his trouble--Tunis Latham will never get that schooner into Big Wreck Cove. And G.o.d help him and them that's with him!” added the captain reverently.
CHAPTER x.x.xII
A GIRL TO THE RESCUE
On sh.o.r.e the gale seemed a stiff and dangerous blow. At sea, even with a stanch deck under one's feet, the wind proved to have pa.s.sed the hurricane mark long since. The captain of the _Seamew_ felt that the elements had conspired bitterly to a.s.sail his schooner. Before they were a mile beyond the end of the Hollis breakwater, Tunis knew that he had the fight of his seagoing experience on his hands.
When they were fairly out of the semi-shelter of the point behind which Hollis lay, Tunis and his two companions realized very quickly just what they had to contend with. They had spread a handbreadth of mainsail, but the jib was blown out of the boltropes by one big swoop of wind and carried down to leeward, looking like a giant's s.h.i.+rt.
”Still feel that tug to sta'bbo'd,” grumbled Horry. ”Just like--”
”Belay that!” commanded Tunis. ”I begin to believe that's bad luck, anyway. If you hadn't got on to that tack when we first put the schooner into commission, those Portygees wouldn't have even remembered the _Marlin B._ And _that_ schooner thousands of miles away from these seas!”
”I cal'late 'Rion Latham would have found something else to harp on then,” said Zebedee. ”He was bound to ruin you if he could.”
Quickly the gale increased instead of abating, and it was utterly impossible for the trio to get topsails on her. She needed the pull of upper canvas if she was to tack properly for the mouth of the channel into Big Wreck Cove.
They fought for two hours to bring this much-desired object to pa.s.s, hoping for a lull or a s.h.i.+fting of the gale which might aid them.
The yellow sands of Wreckers' Head were plainly in view all that time. To give up the attempt and run before the gale was a folly of which Tunis Latham had no intention of being guilty if it could possibly be avoided. Manned as she was, the schooner might never be worked back to a landfall if they did so.