CHAPTER XXX.
JOSHUA IS PROMOTED.
When daylight came--and oh, how they watched for it, and prayed for it!--they saw clearly their great peril. The ship was rolling amongst a mass of sharp rocks jutting upwards from the sea. They saw the points of these rocks on all sides of them; but no friendly land was in view.
"The ship is lost," said Captain Liddle to Joshua whom he looked upon as his right-hand; "she is breaking up fast. Our next chance is the boats."
It was a wonder indeed how the "Merry Andrew" had kept together during the night, with the tremendous beating she had received from the rocks; if she had been in deep water, she must inevitably have sunk.
Joshua had told Captain Liddle of the understanding between Scadbolt and the Lascar, as overhead by Minnie; and now the captain walked to where the two conspirators were standing in conversation with other sailors. Scadbolt was endeavoring to persuade them to seize the jolly boat, and leave the passengers to shift for themselves.
"What is that you are saying?" cried the captain breaking in amongst them, and grasping Scadbolt by the shoulder with a grasp of iron. "More incitings to mutiny! Take heed, sir! Give me but a little stronger cause--nay, dare to lay a finger upon boats or provisions without leave--and, by God, I'll throw you into the sea!"
"Will you stand this, men?" shouted Scadbolt, writhing in the captain's grasp.
The Lascar made a movement towards the captain, and the glitter of a knife flashed in the light; but a blow from Joshua sent him reeling, and in an instant the knife was torn from his hand.
"Remember!" said Joshua in a low voice. "You had a lesson from me years ago. What the captain does to Scadbolt, I do to you, you treacherous cur."
"I remember," muttered the Lascar, presenting the singular aspect of a man cowed by fear and raging with furious passion at the same time, "I swore to have your heart's blood, and I'll have it! Look you! the end has not yet come. Give me my knife."
Joshua looked at the knife; it was one-bladed, with a clasp--one of the articles, indeed, which the Lascar had wrested from Solomon Fewster's fears.
"You asked me once before for a knife I took from you," he said; "then I broke it before I gave it back. But this--this I mean to keep."
"Now then my men," cried the captain, in a cheery voice, "this is the second time that this damned rascal has tried to step between you and me. What I feared then has happened now. The ship is breaking up, and can't hold together for many days, and if the weather gets worse, may break up in a day. There are certain chances in our favor, every one of which will be destroyed unless we act in friendly concert and like men. This scoundrel has tried to make you believe that your interests and the interests of the passengers are in opposition. He lies! I declare to you, as a captain and a man" (if he had said a gentleman, all would have been ruined), "that your lives and your safety are as dear to me, as those of anybody else on board--except my wife," he said softly yet stoutly, and murmurs of "Bravo, skipper! Bravo you're a man!" broke even from the lips of those sailors who were most disposed to be won over by Scadbolt. "Well then, you hear me declare now, as I have declared before, that I mean you fair. And I declare moreover, that our only chance of safety is in union. Once again--With me,--or Against me?"
"With you I with you, skipper!"
During this scene, Joshua did not know that Minnie was standing near him. Now, releasing the Lascar with warning words, he turned and saw her. She met his gaze unflinchingly, and a hot blush mantled over her neck and face. He gazed at her for so long a time, that she drooped her head before him, and stood in an attitude of pleading. But he could not doubt the evidence of his senses. Her manner, no less than her appearance, convinced him. It was Minnie, indeed, who stood before him.
He covered his eyes with his hand, and staggered to the saloon. If a thousand despairing and undeserved deaths had stared him in the face, he could not have been more shocked and bewildered. He sat down and tried to think. What was the meaning of it? What did they know at home? What did they, know? What might they suspect? He saw himself and the Old Sailor together in the boat at Gravesend, and heard that faithful old friend tell him of Minnie's love for him, and what it was his duty to do. He had seen his duty clearly then: love for Ellen no less than duty--affection for his friend and brother, no less than love and duty--impelled him to the right and honorable course of making Ellen his wife. And then! Why, within three days of that consummation of his dearest hope, he and Minnie were together on board the "Merry Andrew." If they at home knew it, suspected it even, must they not believe that his whole life was a monstrous lie? that he had planned, plotted, deceived, schemed, to prove how utterly false he was to the woman who adored him, to the man who believed in him, to the kind mother and father who loved him better than Benjamin was loved? For a few moments he lost all consciousness of present peril. The ship beat amongst the rocks; the seas dashed over the deck: he heard them not, felt them not. He took from his breast Ellen's picture and the lock of hair she had given him at their parting, and kissed them again and again while his tears ran on them. Strangely enough, there came to his ears then, in the midst of his agony, his father's hearty exultant voice, saying, "This is better than being a wood-turner all one's life, isn't it, Josh?" He shivered and sobbed and cried, "O Dan, Dan, do not forsake me!" and stretched forth his hands as if his friend were near. A hand upon his shoulder aroused him, He looked up, and saw the captain's wife. She was a brave woman, and had done much during the night to sustain the courage of the others.
"There is a man's work to do on deck," she said to him gravely and sweetly. "You are not growing faint-hearted?"
"No, my lady," he answered, "not faint-hearted at the prospect of death; but I have received a shock worse than death."
She did not stop to ask for an explanation of his meaning--time was too precious; but she took the picture of Ellen and looked at it.
"My wife, my lady," he said, with a sob.
A troubled expression crossed her features, and she said encouragingly,--
"Nay, all hope is not gone; we may succeed in reaching land, or some ship may see us and pick us up. But all private grief must give way now for the general good. There are not too many faithful men on board; the lives of others depend on them. If they lose heart, and yield to the selfishness of their grief, we are lost."
Joshua jumped to his feet and wiped his tears.
"They are not unmanly tears, my lady," he said bravely; "I can justify them to you when there is no pressing work to do. Thank you for calling me to my duty."
She smiled brightly on him and shook hands with him. When he got on deck, the captain was giving orders to lower the jolly-boat; but as the boat was being lowered, the broken water caught her and splintered her to pieces. The sailors and passengers looked with dismay at the fragments of the boat drifting away and dashing against the jagged rocks. "What next?" they all thought.
"Try the long-boat, men," cried the captain. And in accordance with his instructions, the long-boat--the only one left--was launched over the vessel's side; but as she hung in the tackle a huge wave dashed up and filled her. It was imperative that the water should be bailed out of her.
"Who will do it?" asked the captain, loath to give an order in which there was almost certain death. Joshua was about to start forward, when Minnie's hand upon his arm restrained him. Before he could shake off the grasp, the first mate, crying, "I'm a single man; I've no wife and children waiting for me at home!" jumped into the boat up to his waist in water, and began to bail it out. But he had not bailed out a dozen gallons when the stern-post was jerked out of the boat, which was left hanging in the tackle. The shouts of the men and the screams of the women apprised him of his danger; and as he looked about to see how he could remedy the disaster, the fore-tackle got adrift, and the boat was battling with cruel rocks and water. The force of the current was too powerful for her. The captain threw out lines to the unfortunate man, but he could not catch them. But if he had, he would have been bruised to death by the sharp rocks. The moment before he went down, he waved a good-by to those on board. A long silence followed. The women looked anxiously at the captain, but saw no hope in his face. Then with a gesture to all to follow him, he went down to the saloon, and there read prayers, and commended them to God. He was not what is understood as a religious man; but knowing the danger in which they stood, he conceived this to be a duty. That done, he said, "Men and passengers, we have one chance left, and only one. Out of our masts and spars we can make a raft sufficiently large to hold all of us. Then we may be able to reach some friendly land. To stay on board and wait, and not work, is certain death. Even as it is, a raft will take us some days to make, and the ship may break to pieces before it is done. But we must trust to God for that. What we've got to do is to work like men, for our own sakes, for the sake of the women, and for the sake of wives and children at home. Some of you have these, I know. It is not for me, now that we are in such a strait, to say, do this, or do that; although under any circumstances I shall insist upon discipline and order. I can't make you work, and therefore I submit for your approval the plan I think best for general safety. Have any of you a better one to propose?"
"No, no!" was the unanimous cry.
"Very well; then we'll determine upon this. And for the better carrying out of our design, I appoint Mr. Marvel second in command. He is first mate now. If any thing happens to me, you will look to him. When the raft is made, and safely launched--if it please God that it shall be so--we will set down necessary rules for all on board. Until that time there is but one rule--to work. Every man on board must work--passengers and all; and every man must aid me in preserving order."
The captain's manly speech infused hope into every heart; and exclamations of "Good!" "Bravo skipper!" "Well said, sir!" followed his last words.
"One other thing," he said, in a more determined voice: "to my certain knowledge, we have unfortunately among us two men who have endeavored to spread dissatisfaction and add to our confusion. I will not point out these men; they are known to me and all of you. They are men, though, as we are, so far as the value of life to each of us goes; and it is only fair that they should have equal chances with us. But this I declare, by my dear wife's life! If these men do not work, and if they attempt any thing that is not for the general good, I will shoot them with my own hand! Now then, to the deck!"
Not a man among them who did not take off his coat and set to work with a will. There were a great many loose spars on board, which, with the mizenmast, were found to be sufficient for their purpose. They tried to cut down the mainmast; but there was so much danger in the attempt that it was relinquished. For three days they worked like slaves. The rocks served as a resting-place for the ends of the largest spars, which were firmly lashed together and nailed; the light and short spars were used for the centre of the raft, upon which a kind of platform was raised on which many of the shipwrecked persons could lie out of the water; a mast, to carry sails was also rigged up. The raft was not finished too soon; they could not have stopped another day on the ship. While the work was going on, three of the sailors lost their lives, so that already their number was lessened by four. The raft being ready, it was launched with great difficulty. The next anxious question was provisions; and the result of their inquiry blanched many a cheek. All the bread was spoiled by the salt water, and most of the preserved meat had been lost, in consequence of having been brought on deck when they tried to launch the boats. They also made another disheartening discovery. They could only find two small kegs to hold water. Still, when the first shock of these discoveries was over, they were borne bravely, almost cheerfully. The women, excepting Rachel Homebush, were the cause of this; they smiled upon the workers, encouraged them, and made them hopeful in spite of themselves. Even Mrs. Pigeon recovered some of her good spirits; and knowing that her merry laugh was a comfort to the men, she laughed often when she was not inclined for mirth. The little child, Emma, was the only truly happy one of the party, and her presence drove away many a hard thought. Rough-and-Ready had his anxious intervals, but he worked with a will. Between him and Joshua a strong attachment sprung up; each admired the manliness of the other. He was also particularly kind to Minnie, and she grew accustomed to look upon him with confidence, and to trust in him. The night before the raft was launched, Joshua persuaded Captain Liddle to take a night's rest.
"It will be all the better for you and all of us, sir," said Joshua.
"But you too, Marvel," said Captain Liddle, "you want rest as much as I. I don't believe you have had two hours' sleep since we struck." This was really true; both Joshua and the captain had been in defatigable.
"Never mind me, sir," said Joshua, with a sad sweet smile. "You have your wife to attend to. Besides, I promise that I will rest to-morrow night, if you will give me leave."
"You are a noble fellow, Marvel;" and Captain Liddle gazed admiringly at the young sailor. "I have often wondered how you acquired certain qualities that are not common to the ordinary sailor."
"I don't know, sir; I doubt if they were ever in me. They must have been put there by my friend Dan, who is nobleness itself."
"Dan? Ah! the lame boy with the wonderful birds; that I saw at your house. I liked his face."
"He is the dearest fellow"--Joshua turned away his head.
The next day the provisions and the charts and instruments, and many things that would be useful, such as blankets, tools, and writing materials, were stowed safely on the raft. Of the provisions there was a very small store: twenty tins of preserved meat, a small quantity of sugar, about a gallon of rum, and two kegs of water. By the time every thing useful was stowed away and secured, and the passengers were safely on the raft, it was evening, and within three hours the "Merry Andrew" broke completely up. The raft, having parted its moorings, forced by the strong current, was carried to sea, and the passengers watched the last of the ship with unmixed feelings of sadness. The women shed tears, and all of them, men and women, felt as if they had lost a friend. When the vessel was out of sight a stronger feeling of desolation stole upon the unhappy group, and Rough-and-Ready had many looks of astonishment cast upon him as he rubbed his hands and said in a cheerful voice, "This is splendid. Now we can be comfortable." But it was well for them that they had some stout hearts on board.
The direct allusion made by Captain Liddle to Scadbolt and the Lascar had had its effect upon those worthies; they knew that their lives depended upon their conduct. But they found means to exchange confidences, and they resolved to revenge themselves on both Joshua and the captain when opportunity served. "Wait till we make land," said Scadbolt; "they shall smart then the pair of them. I'll teach both of them the meaning of 'general good!'" The Lascar's old feeling of hate for Joshua had been revived in all its intensity by the late scene between them.
"I'll have my knife back," he muttered to himself as he lay on the raft the first night, at a little distance from Joshua, watching him with venomous looks, "and his heart's blood with it."
Not a movement, not a glance, escaped Minnie's notice. Aware of the feelings of hate entertained by the Lascar for Joshua, she set herself the task of watching over Joshua's safety. He, overpowered by fatigue, had been persuaded by the captain to take some sleep, and when he lay down Minnie crept to his side and remained there during the night. He slept long and peacefully through the solemn night and after the gray morning had dawned, dreaming of home, of Dan and Ellen, and murmuring their names with a smile upon his lips.
CHAPTER XXXI.
ON THE RAFT.
Joshua, opening his eyes, saw Minnie sitting by his side. She, seeing that he was awake, moved quietly away without a word, and went to where the other women were lying. He had been so fatigued when he lay down to rest, that his sleep had been very profound; and when he awoke, the full sense of his situation did not come upon him. Minnie, sitting by his side with her brown face and short curls, was the first thing he saw; and it seemed to him for a brief space that he was dreaming. But when she moved away and joined the other women, he remembered the perils they had encountered, and the terrible position in which they were placed. He would have called to her, but that some feeling restrained him; and although he thought much of her during the day, he was glad that he had not spoken to her. Besides, his attention was diverted for a time to another circumstance. Some of the men were clamoring for breakfast. Neither Scadbolt nor the Lascar was among the murmurers; these last consisted of the weakest of the party, who were less able than the others to bear hunger, and to whom the fear of starvation made it appear as if they had been already fasting a day.
"Breakfast! breakfast!" they cried.
"Wait till ten o'clock," said the captain, in a stern determined voice; "you can't be hungry already. If you don't cease murmuring, I will put off breakfast until twelve."
This threat silenced them.
In the mean time the captain called his council together, and consulted with them. There were four in the council: himself, Joshua, Rough-and-Ready, and an old sailor named Standish, who had been wrecked twice before, and who consequently was looked upon as a distinguished personage. At eight o'clock the captain read prayers. Then the men, with the exception of the council, sat idly watching the water, and looking out for a fish. The morning was fine; one of the sailors noted for quaint sayings remarked that the weather had no business to be fine; it was a mockery. At ten o'clock the captain piped all hands; the call was answered readily, but there were no signs of breakfast.
"Be seated," said the captain.
They all sat down, with the exception of the captain and his three counsellors. The captain stood in front, his supporters behind.
"We who stand," said the captain, "have been constituted by me, commander of this ship, into a council for the discussion and deliberation of all matters relating to the general welfare. The fairness of the selection will recommend itself to the crew, for the council is composed of three sailors and one passenger. Are you content?"
"Yes, yes!" cried a large number.
Up rose Scadbolt.
"Let us hear first what you have to say about the provisions," he said. "I am not one who says yes without consideration."
"That's fair too," broke from half a dozen throats.
Captain Liddle eyed Scadbolt steadily. Scadbolt returned his gaze. He knew that in the position he had assumed, he could command the sympathies of a certain number, and the knowledge gave him confidence.
"Well, it is fair," said the captain; "and a reasonable suggestion is always reasonable, never mind who makes it. The council have drawn out a set of rules this morning, which I have here writ down on paper. If you approve of them you will approve of the council; do I understand that?"
"Yes, yes!"
The captain produced his paper and commenced.
"Rule 1. All questions in dispute, with the exception of such as are properly within the province of the duties of Captain Liddle--whose orders as Captain of the 'Merry Andrew,' we promise to obey and uphold to the death--shall be decided by the majority."
"Agreed!" some cried.
"Stop!" exclaimed Scadbolt; "how about the women? We are not going to let them vote."
Thought Captain Liddle, "This is no common scoundrel; he puts in speech what many a malcontent would only dare to think." Said Captain Liddle aloud, "That was not mentioned by the council. I don't suppose the women would wish to vote; a proper man would not have mentioned it. Decided, however, that the women do not vote."
In arguing with Scadbolt, Captain Liddle committed a grave mistake; it put them upon a kind of equality, and from that moment Scadbolt could boast of being the leader of a party, small as it might be.
"Rule 2," continued Captain Liddle. "The small stock of provisions shall be equally divided between every soul on board"--
A little faint cheering here broke out.
"But, in consequence of the smallness of the supply, the quantity to be measured out to each person shall be regulated, as occasion demands, by the Captain and his council."
No demur was made to this.
"Rule 3. That all fish, birds, or food of any kind which may be found in air or water shall be added to the general stock, and shall be fairly and equally divided."
"Unfair!" exclaimed Scadbolt; "each man is entitled to what he can catch in air or water."
"Not so," replied the captain; "for what then would become of the women?--Men, I appeal to you: does this man, who speaks while you are silent, represent your views?"
Two or three voices answered, "Yes;" a score answered, "No."
"Good," said the captain; "he represents but one in a dozen; and even the two or three of you who seem to side with him may be brought to see the selfishness of what he advocates. If he had his way, the weak would be left to die; the strong alone should live, and have a chance of being saved. Is this fair? is it manly? is it honest?"
"Every man for himself, and God for us all," muttered Scadbolt trying to fan the flame.
"Then the strongest man would crush the rest, and might would take the place of right," continued the captain, beginning to see that he had made a mistake in listening so patiently to Scadbolt. "We were never nearer to death than we are this day; but shall that make us forget that we are men? Shall that turn us into brutes? We have helpless women depending upon us, and upon our manliness. They shall be shown no favor in the way of provisions; they shall divide equally with us, share and share alike. But, by God, the one who seeks to deny them their fair chance of life, dies by my hand!"
"I am with you, captain," cried Rough-and-Ready.
"And I," said Joshua.
"And I," said the sailor who had been twice wrecked.
"And I," "And I," from most of the rest.
"Decided, then, that all food that may be found in air or water shall be added to the general stock, and shall be fairly and equally divided."
Scadbolt did not dare demur.
"Rule 4. That, recognizing the full extent of our dread peril, and knowing that death stares us in the face, we resolve to die like men, if it be God's will; and thus resolving, we solemnly declare that, supposing all our food to be gone, we will not eat human flesh"--
A shudder ran round the attentive group, and Mrs. Pigeon fainted; but Captain Liddle proceeded firmly,--
"Nor draw lots as to who shall be killed to feed the rest. This we solemnly resolve, in fear of the Lord, out of common humanity, and out of respect for ourselves as Christian men."
Assented to in silence; not one of them could realize the horrible craving, born of raging thirst and hunger, that had come upon men in such a strait as theirs.
"That is all," concluded the captain after a long pause. "You approve, then, of the council and these rules?"
"Yes."
"Now to breakfast. Water, for the first week, will be served out twice a day--a quarter of a pint in the morning, and a quarter of a pint in the evening--half a pint a day to each person. Of food we have only preserved meat and sugar, and very little of either. One tablespoonful of preserved meat will be served out to each person at eleven o'clock every morning, and at five o'clock one ounce of sugar. Of rum we have about a gallon: a teaspoonful will be served out to each person once in every other day, in the morning or in the evening, as he may choose. The general stock of previsions will not be touched by any one on board, except in presence of all, and it will be guarded by two of the council; the penalty of tampering with the stock, or of attempting to steal any portion of it, will be death. And God give us strength, and send us happy deliverance!"
When breakfast was served, the men lay about the raft idly, watching the water for fish, which they were not successful in catching, and rising every now and then to scan the horizon for a sail. Some slept or tried to sleep; some talked over the chances of deliverance; some spoke in whispers of what they had heard from men who had been wrecked. While the provisions were being measured by the captain, the other three of the council stood by with cocked pistols, ready to fire should a rush be made. Most of the men took their spoonful of preserved meat, and ate it quickly and greedily, some of them at one gulp; but a few, wiser than their fellows, retired with their portion, and sitting down, ate it very slowly. These last were the best satisfied. The council were busy enough all the day; assisted by Mr. Pigeon and the two friends, Wall and Heartsease, they were employed in re-arranging every thing on the raft, and in making things more comfortable for the women. A kind of low tent was built, under cover of which the women could lie down and rest, screened from the men; but it was only used at night; for at first the women mixed with the men during the day, and made themselves useful. Mrs. Pigeon, of her own accord, crept to where the sailors were lying about, and asked if they wanted any thing mended. At first they were too surprised to reply; but presently a dozen voices answered her. One wanted a pair of socks darned; another had half a dozen rents in his shirt; and in a very little while Mrs. Pigeon's hands were full. She made her way back to her female companions, and throwing a heap of clothes in the midst of them, proposed that they should set to work at once. Soon all of them, with the exception of Rachel Homebush, were busily and cheerfully at work; and while their fingers were plying, Mrs. Pigeon sang snatches of songs. It was as little like a picture of shipwrecked persons as one could imagine. But it was a picture that did an immense amount of good. The men looked at the women admiringly, and Rough-and-Ready's eyes glistened every time they wandered that way.
"A pretty bunch!" he observed to Joshua.
Joshua nodded hopefully, for the sight cheered him.
"That's a good little woman of yours," said Rough-and-Ready, turning to Mr. Pigeon. Rough-and-Ready held a very different position now from what he did when he first stepped aboard the "Merry Andrew;" he was a general favorite with men and women. Even Rachel Homebush cast glances of approval at him.
"I tell you what," answered Mr. Pigeon in a confidential tone; "I've not seen much of women--you know out there in the bush they're rather scarce--and we had some hope of getting home"--
"Had some hope!" interrupted Rough-and-Ready. "Say have some hope. If there's one thing in the world that makes me certain of it, it is that picture there," pointing to the women.
"I am heartily glad to hear you say so. Have some hope, then, of getting home, where the streets are crowded with women they say. But there isn't one among 'em to come up to her. Although there were not half a dozen lasses to choose from when I first made up to her, I'd choose her now out of a million."
Having delivered himself of these, his articles of faith in his wife, he sat down by her side, and held her cotton for her as she stitched and sewed.
Meantime the current and their one sail carried them along at the rate of about two miles an hour. No land was in sight, and there was no sign of a ship, although during the day many a false alarm was given. The weather remained fine. The light wind died away in the evening, when the thin crescent of a new moon came out in the sky. It was welcomed as a good omen; and the women looked at it, and smiled at one another, the foolish things! as if the silver crescent were a messenger of good tidings. Then the stars came out brightly--another good omen. Many a one on the raft thought, "This is better than being jammed on the rocks, in the 'Merry Andrew;' we are moving towards safety. If we do not see a ship, we may see land, and may manage to get ashore." References were made to Robinson Crusoe and the Swiss Family Robinson; not in a gloomy, but in a cheerful spirit. It was the admirable bearing of the men in command, no less than the virtues of the women, that contributed to this state of hopeful feeling. The sailors were also comparatively contented; most of them had a little stock of tobacco--some more, some less--the chewing of which gave them comfort. Each man hoarded his store more jealously than a miser hoards his gold; but some were greedier than others, or craved for it more, and could not withstand the temptation of chewing it almost wastefully, certainly not prudently. But then sailors are not a prudent class of men.
To Joshua, who was sitting musing of home, came Rough-and-Ready, and sat beside him.
"You don't smoke?" asked Rough-and-Ready.
"That's not sailor-like."
Joshua shrugged his shoulders, and smiled.
"Nor chew?"
"No."
"Here is a little piece of tobacco. Chew it."
Joshua put it in his mouth and chewed it, because he thought it was, after all a certain kind of food, and might make him less hungry. But it made him sick.
Rough-and-Ready laughed a little when he saw the effect of it, and presently said, so that no one else should hear, "You must learn to chew."
"Why?"
"It will help to keep you alive when the provisions run out. I have a dozen pounds of tobacco strapped round me; it was my own, so I thought I had a right to it. By and by it will come in handy. I wish I could teach the women to chew."
"If the men knew you had so much," said Joshua, "your life would not be safe."
"I know that. I had an idea at first of handing it to the skipper for general use; but I thought better of it. There are a few on board to whom I don't think I'd give an ounce to save their lives. What is that in your handkerchief?"
"My accordion."
"Do you play? Of course, though, or you wouldn't have it. I should like to hear some music."
Joshua untied his handkerchief and took out his accordion. The night was very still, and the soft tones floated in the air, and seemed to linger about the raft as it glided through the sea. The quiet bubbling of the water as it stole through the openings between the spars, as if in sport, was in consonance with the melody and the still night and the beautiful peaceful heavens. Men who were lying at full length sat up when the music commenced, and were the better for it. The women crept from out their shelter, and listened and shed tears, not entirely unhappy. Surely it was a night of good omens. As Joshua played, his thoughts wandered back to his boyish life, and to the tender conversations that had taken place between him and Dan. Often he stopped as he mused and thought; but presently his fingers would be on the keys again, playing a few bars of "Poor Tom Bowling," and other more cheerful songs of Dibdin, which the Old Sailor loved so well. They came back to him, the memories of that happy time. Their anxiety about their birds, when they first commenced to train them; the death of Golden Cloud, and the after conversation which he had never forgotten, in the course of which they had read together of the wreck of Robinson Crusoe. Why, it seemed all to have come true! Here he was, wrecked, certainly not alone, and therefore better off than Crusoe was, but wrecked for all that. But under what circumstances, and with what a dreadful web of suspicion surrounding him! Oh, if he could see the end of it! It was horrible to think that he might die--he and all of them on the raft; and that Dan might believe him false because of Minnie. It would not bear thinking of. He ceased playing, and bathed his fevered head and face. Often and often had he said to himself, in former storms and former scenes, the words that Dan had impressed upon him; and now he tried to fancy that Dan could see him, and knew that he was true.
Rough-and-Ready, seeing that Joshua was engrossed in thought, did not disturb him, and presently dozed off. How long he had been asleep he did not know; but he woke up with a curious impression upon him. He must have slept long, for the night was far advanced, and no sound was heard but the plashing of the water against and through the spars. The impression was this: that he and Joshua were lying side by side (as, in fact they were) asleep, and that a woman suddenly came between them. Her back was to him, her face turned to Joshua; that she sat down so, and so remained, for an hour and more, making no movement, uttering no sound; but he could tell that all the while she was watching Joshua's sleeping form. That then she inclined herself gently to Joshua, and pressed her lips to his hand: and that rising to go, she turned her face to Rough-and-Ready, and he saw that it was Mrs. Liddle's gypsy-maid. So far his fancies went. Starting into a sitting position, he saw Minnie a few paces from him, making her way to where the women were lying.
Now this set Rough-and-Ready thinking--for more reasons than one. Had he been dreaming, or had it really occurred? If it had occurred, it must have been love that prompted her. He had observed her the previous night sitting near Joshua; but then it had not been so noticeable, for there was no kind of order on the raft. How long had she known Joshua? He was the more perplexed because he had never seen the two in conversation, and because of the mystery surrounding the acquaintance. He was troubled, too; for, rough as he was, and old enough to be Minnie's father, he had taken a tender interest in her, and the discovery he had just made came upon him like a shock.
Every person on the raft was asleep with the exception of the men in the watch and himself. He did not feel inclined to lie down again, so he sat and thought of things. In such a solemn scene, and at such solemn moments the spirit of nature works wonders in the minds of the roughest men--quickens the sympathies, and stirs into life the tenderest memories. It was so with Rough-and-Ready at the present time. Incidents in his life which had been so long unremembered that he wondered how he thought of them now, came vividly before him. His home--his mother--small domestic joys and griefs--a brother who died when they were both children, with whom he used to play and pelt with daisies--Good God! what kind of a bridge was that in his life that spanned that time and this? By what strange step had he walked from then to now? The stars grew less bright and paled out of the skies; the water grew grayer in the brief space before the morning's dawn. Soon in the east a thin line of water at the edge of the horizon quickened into life, and Nature's grandest wonder began to work in the dawning of a new day. The waterline, a mere thread at first, but broadening with every second that marked the flight of gray shadows, was rosy with blushing light. Purple clouds, fringed with wondrous colors, surrounded the clear space, in which presently the glorious sun rose grandly from the golden bed of waters; and as it rose, sky and sea rejoiced. At one time, for a few moments, the sea was like a field of golden corn waving in the sun's eye; but soon it deepened, till it and the heavens, that looked down into its mighty depths, were filled with flaming restless light, which in their turn gave way to softer shadows. Many a sunrise had Rough-and-Ready seen, but never one that he had watched so steadily as this; but it seemed as if his thoughts were in harmony with it.
Late in the day, Rough-and-Ready asked Joshua how long he had known Mrs. Liddle's maid. Joshua looked at him curiously, but did not reply. He had not spoken to Minnie since they had been on the raft, and had, indeed, taken pains to avoid her. She did not intrude herself upon him; she submitted in patience to the silence he imposed upon her by his manner. But a strange phenomenon took place in her. While the others grew weaker and paler and more unhappy, she seemed to gather fresh strength, and actually grew rosier and more hardy. The dark color, too, was dying out of her face.
"I have a reason for asking," said Rough-and-Ready, as an excuse for his question.
Joshua nodded, not unkindly, but with a troubled face.
"There is a strange story connected with your question," he said; "so strange and so gainful, that I cannot give you an answer."
"I thought there was some mystery in the affair," observed Rough-and-Ready; "but I will not press upon your confidence. Do you know that the night before last she watched by you the whole time you were asleep?"
"Watched by me?"
"Ay. And last night, too, for some time--I don't know for how long."
Joshua gave Rough-and-Ready an amazed look, and turned away to where Minnie was sitting. She saw him coming towards her, and her heart beat fast.
"Why have you watched near me for two nights?" he asked, without looking at her.
"You have enemies on the raft," was the answer, very quietly given.
"I know; Scadbolt and the Lascar. But I can take care of myself."
"Not when you are asleep," she said, almost in a whisper.
What could he do? What could he say? Together on the raft in the presence of Death, from which only something very like a miracle could save them, could he be stern and harsh to her? And his great misery was, that he knew and felt his power. He knew that an unkind word from him to this young girl was as bitter as death could be.
"You are like the rest of us, I suppose," he said, gently; "growing very weak."
"I do not think so," she answered, trembling at the gentleness of his voice; "I feel strong as yet. Shall we be saved?"
"We are in God's hands," he said. "I think there is but little chance of being picked up, or even of making friendly land."
Neither addressed the other by name.
"If the end comes, and you know it, and I am not near you, will you try and find me, and say a kind word to me before I die?"
He gave her the promise, and hurried suddenly from her, for his heart was fit to break, and he dared not trust himself to say more.
The third day passed, and the fourth. No sign of succor near. Hope began to die.
On the sixth morning, when the roll was called, one of the passengers did not answer to his name. It was Mr. Bracegirdle.
"He is asleep," said one.
They shook him, but he did not move. He was dead. This was the first death, and it affected them deeply. Before he was sewn in the canvas, he was searched, in the anticipation of finding something useful. A surprising discovery was then made. He had in his pocket-book and round his waist bank-notes and bills for more than ten thousand pounds. But nobody knew any thing about him; he died, as he had lived among them a mystery. After his body was slipped into the sea, a whisper went about that the money found on him had not been honestly come by.
That same night two sailors were washed into the sea. When it became known, there were some among them who secretly rejoiced in the thought that there would not be so many mouths to feed. Nearly a third of the provisions was eaten, and the women were very weak. Little Emma Pigeon held out the best; but that was because her mother, from even her small portion, gave some to her child between the times of serving out the provisions; the child also was petted and nourished by the other women. Rough-and-Ready as especially considerate to the females. Joshua saw him chewing something, and wondered what it was. Noticing the look of inquiry on Joshua's face, Rough-and-Ready enlightened him.
"I am eating leather," he said.
Joshua stared at him. Then Rough-and-Ready took from his pocket a dozen very thin strips of leather which he had cut out of his boot, and told Joshua that he had found a new food. He gave Joshua a couple of strips--very thin they were, almost like a wafer--and Joshua set to work on them, and after some difficulty, chewed them to a pulp and swallowed them.
"There's nothing like leather," said Rough-and-Ready with a quiet laugh. "It wants strong teeth, but it fills up an empty place in the stomach."
The next day Joshua noticed that Rough-and-Ready received his tablespoonful of preserved meat in his handkerchief, and later on he saw Rough-and-Ready slyly feeding little Emma with a portion of the meat, and then go to her mother and slip what remained into her hand.
Now and then a few small fish were caught. There being no means of cooking them, the women refused their share with horror, but the men ate them raw. They also snared some birds, and ate them in the same manner.
On the twelfth night Scadbolt and the Lascar lay side by side awake. Nearer than they to the edge of the raft lay a shipmate, chewing tobacco.
"All mine is gone," said Scadbolt enviously.
"And mine," said the Lascar, with a horrible look at the man who was chewing.
"I think he must have a good lot left. I heard him boast of it last week."
"Two men are better than one."
"Wait till that black cloud touches the moon; then stop his mouth; I'll do the rest!"
The black cloud travelled on and on, crept before the moon, and soon shut out its light. When the moon shone again upon the waters there was one man less on the raft, and Scadbolt and the Lascar were chewing tobacco greedily!
These two men had a line out in the water, with a small hook at the end of it. The Lascar felt it jerk. He pulled in the line; there was a fish at the end of it, weighing more than a pound. He took from his pocket a six-bladed knife, opened the largest blade, and cut the fish in two equal parts. He gave one to Scadbolt, and ate the other himself. So that they should not be observed, they lay down on their faces while they ate.
"That was a good bit of luck," said Scadbolt; "I feel stronger."
"If the skipper caught us, he would throw us overboard, whispered the Lascar.
"He'd try to; but one man is as good as another now. Let us do this and take care of ourselves; we shall outlast the others. I wish they were all dead--all but two."
"Ay, Joshua's Marvel's one. I know what you mean. You'd like to have the doing of him. So would I. Who's the other?"
"The gypsy-maid. She's a rare beauty."
The Lascar did not say any thing to this. He had seen enough since they had been on the raft to convince him that his first suspicions were right, and that the gypsy-looking girl really was Minnie. Notwithstanding their desperate condition, he had cast many admiring glances at her.
"How fine," he thought, "to strike at Joshua Marvel through her!"