Story 2--Chapter XVIII.
I don’t care who the man may be, but it is a hard struggle for any one to see two roads open to him, the first leading to life, and the second to a horrible death, and for him to force himself to take the last one. I’m not going to blame Sam, nor I ain’t a-going to blame Bill Smith. It was only natur’s first law, when Sam says to me just one word, and give his head a nod seaward. “Hot!” says he; and he took a header off the ship’s side, and strikes out towards the last boat. Then, “Come along, matey,” says Bill; and he takes his header, and swims arter the boat—and that was two gone. As for Mr Tomtit, he was so taken up with his poor birds, that he didn’t seem to care a bit about hisself, till I goes up to him and says:
“Hadn’t you better try and make the last boat, sir?”
“Make the boat, my man?” he says in a puzzled sort of way. “No; I don’t think I could make a boat.”
“Swim arter it, then,” I says.
“No,” he says mournfully; “I can’t swim a stroke.”
“More shame for you,” I says. And then I felt so savage, that I goes up to the fat passenger as was sitting crying on the deck of course, and I says, says I, giving him a sharp kick:
“Get up,” I says, “will you! You’re always a-crying.”
“O, Mr Roberts,” he says, blubbering like a calf—“O, Mr Roberts, to come to this!”
“Go overboard, then,” I says savagely; “for now you’ve pumped all that hot water out of your hold, you can’t sink.”
Now all this time the fire was roaring away, and sending a glow in all directions for far enough round, while the sparks kept on dropping like a shower. It was a beautiful sight in spite of the horror; and I couldn’t help looking at it a minute, till I turned round and saw Mr Ward standing quite still, looking down upon Miss Bell, who was on her knees by her brother’s side. But as I was looking, she got up pale and quiet, and looked first at me, and then at Mr Ward, and then she says quickly:
“Why do you both waste time? Why do you not swim after the boat?”
“And you?” said Mr Ward in a slow husky way.
She did not answer, only turned for a moment towards where her brother lay with his head on a cushion, and pointed to him with a sad smile, and then, holding out her hand to me as she sank upon her knees again by her brother’s side, she said:
“God bless you, Mr Roberts! Good-bye.”
I took her pretty little white hand, and kissed it, and then stood back; for she held out her hand to Mr Ward; and he took it and kissed it, and then sank on his knees by her side, holding her hand tightly; and when she said once more, “Go!” he only smiled and kissed her hand again.
It was so still, in spite of the fluttering roar of the flames, that I could hear every word he said, as he almost whispered to her: “Eady, darling, I’ll never leave you.”
The next moment her face was down in her other hand, and I could see that she was sobbing, so, feeling all wet-eyed myself, I turned away, when if there wasn’t that fat passenger blubbering away more than ever!
“Get up, will you,” I says; “I never did see such a thundering swab in my life as you are.” But all he says was: “O, Mr Roberts!”
All at once I heard Miss Bell give a great cry; and, turning round, I saw that Mr Bell had started up, and she was clinging to him: then he held out his hand to Mr Ward; but before he could take it, the poor fellow fell back. He was free of his trouble.
Now you know I wouldn’t have cared if that there fat passenger would only have kept out of my way; but there, the more trouble one was in, and the more he was wanted out of the way, the more he piped his eye, and got just where you didn’t want him. He always was a nuisance from the day he first came on board, and to make it more aggravating, he would look just as if he was made on purpose to kick.
“Why won’t you get out of the way?” I says; for all this time I’d been turning over in my own mind a way to get out of the burning, if we could, and there was that great fat chap a-sitting on a hencoop that I wanted.
“O, Mr Roberts!” he whines again. And he cries: “O, look there!”
And I did look, when, if there wasn’t my two poor mates just coming up to the last boat—we could see it plainly; and if one brute didn’t fire at ’em, and another stand up with the boat-hook in his hand, ready to shore the first one under.
“God help ’em,” I says, “for I can’t;” and then, Mr Ward helping me, we got a couple of loose spars overboard, and some rope to lash with, and a couple of hencoops; and as fast as Mr Ward, and Tomtit, and the fat passenger, who seemed to have been warmed into life by the fire—as fast as they lowered the stuff down, I, who was over the side, lashed it together, to make something like a raft.
I couldn’t do much; there wasn’t time, for the fire gained upon us; and now there was no one at the helm, the ship had swung round so that the smoke and flame all came our way. I felt, too, that it was only to make life last another day or two, for there was no getting at any prog, as there wasn’t a scrap of anything in the forksel; for I went down to see when I first thought of the raft. However, I shouted to them to lower down the water-breaker by the foremast, and they did, and then Mr Tomtit came over the side, and the fat passenger rolled down somehow, and I shook my head, for the raft went low on his side. And now there was only Mr Ward and Miss Bell to come, and partly by coaxing, partly by dragging, he had got the poor girl to the side, when she turned her head to take another look, as I thought, of the poor fellow lying dead there; and as Mr Ward stood there holding her, the pair showing out well in the bright light of the burning ship, I could not help thinking what a noble-looking couple they made, and then I shouts: “Lower away, sir;” when, as if startled by my words, Miss Bell darted away from Mr Ward, when in a moment there came a roar as of thunder, the raft heaved and cracked under us, and beat against the side of the ship, while something seemed to strike me down, so that I lay half-stunned upon the grinding coops and spars.
But I contrived to get on my knees, struggling from under some heavy weight, and then, every moment getting clearer, I understood that the ship had blown up, and that Mr Ward must have been dashed from the gangway, and fallen on to me.
And Miss Bell?
I dursn’t ask myself the question again, but shoved the raft away, and began to paddle with a piece of board, so as not to be drawn down when the vessel sank. In place of being all bright light, it was now pitch darkness, except just here and there, where pieces of burning wood floated on the water, and then hissed and went out. From being so near, I suppose it was, we escaped anything falling upon us; and feeling pretty safe at last from being drawn down, I was trying to make out the lines of the ship by the smouldering hull beginning again to show a flame here and there, when a husky voice close by shouts out: “Help! help!”
“Here,” I cries, hailing; and the next moment we were lower still in the water, with Bill Smith aboard, and he says, says he: “Tom, I was about done.”
“It’s only put off another hour or two, Billee,” I says. “And where’s old Squintums?”
“On your weather-bow,” says a gruff voice, and then we went down another two inches with Sam aboard.
Well, there was some comfort in doing one’s best to the last; and I began to feel Mr Ward about a bit; but he was coming to fast, and the first thing he wanted to do was to paddle back to the ship; and, thinking that we might pick up some pieces to lash to our raft, I gave way, dangerous as it was, though a very small sight worse than our present position. So we paddled up to the smoking mass, that I expected would settle down every moment, and then, getting hold of the side rope, Mr Ward and I got on deck.
It was not dark, for there was a little flame here and there, and in some places there was the glow of a lot of sparks, but we hadn’t come to look for that; and, as we stood there forward amongst the smoke, I felt my heart heave, as, with a groan that seemed to tear out of his chest, Mr Ward threw himself down by the figure he was looking for.
She seemed to have ran back to throw herself upon her brother’s body, and there she was, with her arms round him, and though pieces of burning wood lay all about, she did not seem to have been touched.
It was a sad sight, and in spite of all our troubles, I had a little corner left for the young fellow, who had clasped her in his arms, when he started up with a cry of joy.
“Here—water, Roberts, quick!” he cried; and almost as he spoke, Miss Bell gave a great sigh, and we gently lowered her on to the raft, when, getting hold of a bit of burning bulwark floating near, I squenched it out, and managed to lash it to us, so as to ease one side. Then we paddled slowly away, and lay by waiting for the morning, to get together more fragments, and make a better raft.