Part 5 (1/2)
For a moment Colin had a wild idea of leaping into the sea and swimming to the sinking craft, and blamed himself bitterly for not having looked after the port and starboard lights at sundown, as he often did when the watch on deck was too busy to see to them. He would have given anything to have done it, rather than to have to sit beside the captain with his eyes fixed on the desolate unlighted s.h.i.+p! Boy though he was, he nearly broke down.
”Good-by, _Gull_, good-by,” he heard the captain whisper under his breath.
Then, as if the ache in the boy's heart had been a flame to cross the sea, it seemed that a tiny spark kindled upon the sinking s.h.i.+p, and the captain, speechless for the moment, pointed at it.
”Is that a light, boy?” he said hoa.r.s.ely, ”or am I going mad?”
Like a flash, Colin remembered.
”It's the binnacle, sir,” he cried; ”I lighted it for the man at the wheel myself.”
Solemnly the captain took off his hat.
”It's where the light should be,” he said at last, ”to s.h.i.+ne upon her course to the very end.”
CHAPTER II
THE FIGHT OF THE OLD BULL SEALS
The quick, uneasy pitching of the boat and a sudden dash of ice-cold spray roused the captain from the fit of abstraction into which the sinking of his s.h.i.+p had plunged him.
”Step the mast, men,” he said; ”we've got to make for the nearest land.
It's going to be a dirty night, too.”
”Did you want us to put a reef in, sir?” asked the old whaler.
”When I want a sail reefed,” the captain answered shortly, ”I'll tell you.”
As the mast fell into place and the sail was hoisted, the whale-boat heeled sharply over and began to cut her way through the water at a good speed, leaving the two prams far in the rear. The captain, who was steering mechanically, paid no heed to them, staring moodily ahead into the darkness. Hank looked around uneasily from time to time, then in a few moments he spoke.
”The mate's signaling, I think, sir,” he said.
Colin looked round but could only just see the outline of the larger of the two boats, and knew it was too dark to distinguish any motions on board her. He looked inquiringly at Hank, but the old gunner was watching the captain.
”What does he want?” questioned the captain angrily.
”Orders, sir, I suppose,” the whaler answered.
The captain felt the implied rebuke and looked at him sharply, but although he was a strict disciplinarian, he knew Hank's worth as a seaman of experience and kept back the sharp reply which was upon his lips. Then turning in his seat he realized how rapidly they had sped away from the boats they were escorting, and said:
”I'll bring her up.”
He put the tiller over and brought the whale-boat up into the wind, and in a few minutes the mate's boat and the smaller pram came alongside.
”Don't you want us to keep together, sir?” cried the mate as soon as he was within hearing.
”Of course,” the captain answered. ”You can't keep up, eh?”