Chapter Four.
I save Julius’s Life.
When, shortly before eight bells, I was called by the wardroom steward, I at once became aware that a change of some sort had occurred in the weather. For, on the one hand, the list of the ship to starboard seemed to be no longer so heavy as it had been when I turned in; while, on the other, the motion was far and away greater—so violent indeed was it that, seasoned as I was to the movements of a heaving deck, I experienced the greatest difficulty in maintaining my balance. When presently I went on deck, my previous impressions were fully confirmed; for although it was still blowing a whole gale, the maniacal fury of the hurricane was past, while the sea, no longer flattened down and kept practically level by the irresistible strength of the tempest, had risen rapidly and was now an almost terrifying sight to behold. Especially was this the case when the ship settled into the trough, with one great foaming liquid mountain rushing away to leeward of her, while another enormous grey-back, towering above us as high as our lower mast-heads, came swooping down upon us from to windward with hissing angry crest, threatening to hurl itself bodily down upon our decks and sink us out of hand.
Yet that threat was never fulfilled, for the yacht was behaving magnificently. She came to in most perfect style as she climbed the breast of each oncoming comber, heeling steeply to it the while and turning up a bold weather bow to meet its onslaught. Then, as the crest curled in over her turtle-back topgallant forecastle, smothering it in whirling and blowing foam and spray, she would swing upright and, with a lift of her stern and an easy weather roll, go sliding down into the trough beyond, her head paying off as she did so. And although she was still under bare poles, with her head yards aback, I could see, upon looking over the side, that she was forging ahead at a speed of about a knot and a half.
But although the wind was no longer blowing with hurricane force it still had the strength of a heavy gale, and while a reference to the barometer showed that the mercury had begun to rise, there was no other sign of improvement in the weather. The sky was almost as black and threatening in its aspect as ever, with innumerable shreds and tatters of dirty whitish-grey cloud sweeping athwart at a speed that made one giddy to look at; while there could be no question that the sea was gathering height, weight, and volume with the passage of every minute. The air was still heavily charged with flying spume and spindrift, necessitating the use of oilskins and sou’westers, and keeping our spars, rigging, and decks streaming; but we could see with tolerable clearness for at least a mile in every direction.
Yet although the general feeling out on deck was one of dampness and discomfort, we had not the added misery of cold to deal with. On the contrary, it was so warm that shortly after I went on deck, having breakfasted, I felt my long oilskin coat and sea boots so uncomfortably warm that I presently slipped below again for a moment, and, removing them and my socks, donned a short oilskin jacket and returned to the deck barefooted, for the sake of the greater comfort. I took it for granted that Miss Anthea would never dream of turning out in such weather, while I felt sure that Mrs Vansittart would excuse me, under the circumstances, the more so as she had often before come on deck while we were paddling about, barelegged, washing decks. And indeed when, shortly afterward, she emerged through the companion way, encased in a thin mackintosh reaching to the hem of her dress, and with a light sou’-wester on her head which in nowise detracted from her good looks, she at once set me at my ease by laughingly complimenting me upon the sensible character of my attire. Then, in a very different tone of voice, she thanked me for having come to her rescue on the previous night when, overcome by the terrific buffeting of the hurricane, she had swooned while lashed to the mast.
We—that is to say, Mrs Vansittart, Kennedy, and I—were still standing together under the lee of the wheelhouse, discussing the weather generally, and the probable duration of the gale in particular, when the boy Julius came up from below, emerging from the companion way at the precise moment when the ship, with a terrific lee roll, was climbing to the summit of an exceptionally heavy sea. Precisely how it happened I could not possibly say, it occurred so suddenly, and moreover I only saw the last part of it; but I imagine that the lad must have lost, or inadvertently released, his hold upon the side of the companion at the critical moment when the velocity of the ship’s roll was at its highest. Be that as it may, Julius no sooner stepped out on deck than he went with a run straight to the lee rail of the poop, fetched up against it with a force that must have knocked the breath out of him, and then—although the rail was breast-high to him—in some inconceivable fashion seemed to lurch forward upon it, turn a complete somersault over it, and plunge headlong into the sea. It was Mrs Vansittart’s shriek of “Julius!” and her look of petrified horror, that caused me to wheel round, and I was just in time to see the lad go whirling over the rail.
One’s thoughts move with lightning-like rapidity in moments of emergency, and as I saw the boy going I thought, “Kennedy is no good; those heavy sea boots of his would drag him down and sink him in a few seconds; I must go myself!” And as the thought flashed through my brain I tore off my oilskin jacket and, shouting to Kennedy, “Lifebuoy—bend to signal halyards!” made a dash for the rail, while Mrs Vansittart’s shrieks lent wings to my feet.
As I reached the rail the ship topped the surge, which went rushing and roaring away beneath her and to leeward in a tremendous boil of foam, in the rear of which there was a space of almost glass-smooth indigo-coloured water, down through which I thought I saw something that might be the boy’s body. Without hesitating an instant I vaulted the rail, landing upon the curved turtle-back outboard, flung my hands above my head, and plunged straight for the spot where, a moment before, I thought I had seen the lad’s body.
I went deep, kicking and striking out vigorously as I felt the water close about me, for the thought occurred to me that if the boy had really hurt himself badly when colliding with the rail, he would probably not rise to the surface at all, but would slowly sink. As I forced my way downward I looked about me, and presently saw a glimmering white something far below which might be the object of my quest, for the boy was dressed entirely in white. Desperately I urged myself downward, the gloom increasing with every stroke; and at length, when I felt as though my lungs would burst and I could not retain my breath another second, I grabbed something, I scarcely knew what, and turning, struck upward toward the blue glimmer of light far overhead.
How I managed to hold my breath during that seemingly endless climb to the surface I cannot say, but I did it somehow, my head emerging from the water at the very instant when the air escaped from my lungs in one long gasp. I quickly filled them again, looked to see what I had brought to the surface with me, and found that, as I expected, it was the apparently lifeless form of Master Julius. I had grabbed the lad by his ankle, so that he hung head downward in my grasp. That would never do; so, treading water vigorously, I shifted the position of the body until I had the head resting upon my shoulder; and at that moment I felt myself being hove up, up, up, and the next instant a very mountain of water went hissing and roaring over my head, plunging me helplessly hither and thither and momentarily threatening to tear my prize from my hold.
As soon as I had again got my breath, I looked round for the yacht. She was nowhere in sight; but presently, as I began to wonder what had become of her, I saw her topmast-heads swing into view beyond the head of the comber that had just swept past me, and then up she swept until the whole of her hull was visible. I saw a crowd of people gathered aft by the taffrail, and others in the rigging, all peering out under the sharp of their hands in various directions. Then, as the craft surmounted the grey-back and came sliding down its weather slope, rolling to windward until I could see nearly half her main-deck, one of the figures suddenly pointed toward me, and in an instant every face turned my way, while one man, whom I presently recognised as Kennedy, put one hand to the side of his mouth, as though shouting, while he pointed with the other.
Not a word could I hear, however, for my ears were still full of water, while such sound as entered them was merely the hiss and roar of the sea. But I guessed what the mate was pointing at, the more readily as I saw one man paying out a thin line over the rail; so I looked eagerly about me, and presently saw, some thirty fathoms away, a white lifebuoy floating in the midst of a wide surface of foam, the ship at this time being perhaps twice as far from me as the lifebuoy. But just as I started to strike out for the buoy, another heavy sea swept over me, treating me pretty much as the first had done, and all but suffocating me into the bargain.
I thought that, hampered as I was with the boy’s inert body, I should never reach the buoy, for I seemed utterly unable to make so much as an inch of progress in that frightful sea; and once, after I had been overwhelmed about a dozen times, the thought came to me that if I wanted to save myself I must give up the idea of saving the body, which after all would be a useless task, since I felt certain that the lad was dead. But no; I could not return to the ship and face the lad’s mother empty-handed. I could picture her despair under such circumstances, for Julius was Mrs Vansittart’s only son, and, spoiled as he was, I believed that she loved him more than her husband, more than her daughter, more than her own life. No, it was not to be thought of; I had undertaken the task and I must execute it. I had raised her hopes, and I would not disappoint them if God would only give me strength to reach that buoy.
At length, after what seemed like a century of effort, I did reach it, and, laying my hand upon its nearest rim, tilted it over my head and under my armpits, at the very moment—as I afterward learned—when those aboard had paid out four sets of signal halyards to the bare end of the fourth set!
And now came the delicate and difficult task of hauling me alongside in the shortest possible space of time, without parting the halyards on the one hand or drowning me on the other. But Kennedy was the man for the job. Even as I vaulted the rail and plunged into the water his active mind, aided by past experience, had enabled him not only to grasp the full import of my hasty words concerning the lifebuoy and the signal halyards, but also to foresee exactly what must inevitably happen. And while he was in the very act of unreeving the peak ensign halyards, preparatory to bending them on to the lifebuoy which his ready knife had slashed off the taffrail, he was shouting for somebody to pass the word for Mackenzie, the engineer.
When Mac, already issuing from his cabin to learn what all the sudden outcry was about, received the message and came rushing aft in response to the call, he in turn was fully prepared for the order which Kennedy gave him, to go below and set his engine going dead easy astern. Thus by the time that I reached and got into the buoy, the ship’s way through the water was stopped, and, highly dangerous though such a proceeding undoubtedly was, under the circumstances, they were able to haul me gradually alongside and up under the counter without mishap, the engine of course being stopped again at the right moment. And when once they had got me under the lee quarter of the ship all the rest was of course comparatively easy. Two of the hands standing by hove me a couple of standing bowlines on ropes’ ends, one of which I slipped over the inanimate Julius’s head and under his armpits; and when I saw that they had got the body safely in over the rail I slipped into the other myself, and was hauled aboard amid the triumphant yells of the crew—to swoon as my feet touched the deck.
But there was nothing much the matter with me. I had swooned simply through over-exertion, coupled perhaps with the reaction at finding myself once more safely aboard the yacht; and Harper, the surgeon, having had the foresight to order someone to stand by with brandy as a restorative, in case of need, they soon brought me round again. By Kennedy’s orders I was helped below to my cabin, to turn in and rest for a bit, learning, as I went, that Harper and the boy’s mother had taken charge of the lad the moment that he was hauled aboard, and had carried him below to his cabin. I afterward heard, however, that before she quitted the deck, Mrs Vansittart had given orders that she was to be informed, at the earliest possible opportunity, how things were going with me; and I further learned that, upon being told I was doing well, she fell upon her knees by the side of her boy’s bed and, bursting into tears, sobbed forth audible thanks to God for my preservation.
As for me, after vomiting a considerable quantity of salt water, I was helped to undress, given a vigorous towelling, and put into my bunk, where, having swallowed a tumblerful of hot brandy and water, I quickly dropped off to sleep, and remained asleep until after four bells of the afternoon watch had struck. Then, feeling pretty much my former self, although a bit shaky on my pins, and very sore about the chest, I turned out, donned a dry suit of clothes, and sallied forth to the wardroom, with the twofold object of ascertaining if there was any news as to Master Julius’s fate and getting something to eat.
Upon entering the wardroom I found Kennedy, Mackenzie, Grimwood the purser, and, somewhat to my astonishment, the doctor, present and chatting animatedly. Moreover, I gathered that they were talking about me, for as I passed through the open doorway Kennedy looked up and exclaimed:
“And begorra here’s himself, no less! Talk of the—Here, bring yourself to an anchor on the sofa, lad, and let’s have a look at ye! Faith! but your morning’s experience has taken it out of ye, by the looks of ut. But never ye mind that, me bhoy, ye’ll weather it all right, and ye’ll always have the memory of havin’ done a gallant thing, whatever happens. By the Piper, lad, we’re all proud of ye, from the skipper downward.”
They all came crowding round me as I sank upon the sofa, and insisted upon shaking hands with me, saying so many nice and complimentary things to me that I presently began to feel quite abashed. Then Harper interfered authoritatively.
“There!” he exclaimed, waving the crowd away, “that will do, you chaps. Let up upon the youngster a bit and give him a chance. What you want,” he continued, turning to me and laying his fingers upon my pulse, “is a meal first—not a heavy meal, but something good and nourishing, and then another spell of sleep. Mac, have the goodness to press the button for the steward, and I’ll give him an order. How is your appetite, my British hero?”
“Why,” said I, “to confess the truth I turned out because I felt hungry, and came in here with the hope of getting something to eat. But, Doctor, I want to know about the boy. I did the best I could for him, and was determined to bring him back with me if I was fortunate enough to fetch the ship again; but I felt certain there was no life left in him, even before I got hold of the buoy.”
“And that is just where you were mistaken, young man. Oh! here you are, steward,” as that individual entered in response to the summons of the bell. “I want you to go to the cook and tell him—from me, you understand—to give you a good big basin of that chicken broth I instructed him to prepare, and bring it here for Mr Leigh, with a slice of bread from a loaf baked yesterday, if anything of the sort remains. Then, when you have brought the broth, go to Mr Marsh and ask him to give you a small bottle of Mumm, and bring it along here. Now get a move on, and let me have those things quick.”
“Well, Doctor, what about Master Julius?” I prompted, as the steward retired.
“Why, as it happened, he was not dead when we hauled him aboard,” replied Harper, “though he was so near to it that it cost me two solid hours or more of strenuous work to restore animation. But I believe I shall pull him through now, with luck. He dropped off to sleep about half an hour ago, and I left him in charge of his mother and the chief stewardess, with instructions to send for me upon the instant of his waking. How do you like your broth?”
“It is delicious,” I replied, “and I am enjoying it; although I feel a bit mean in taking it, for I suppose it was prepared for Julius, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t you trouble about that, young un,” returned the doctor. “The cook has my orders; and if he has attended to them—as I have no doubt he has—there will be plenty for the pair of you. Will you have some more?”
But I declined; I had had quite sufficient, I said. Thereupon Harper opened the half-bottle of wine which the steward had brought, poured the contents into a tumbler, and ordered me to toss it off and then go back to my bunk and get another sleep.
“Sleep just as long as you care to,” he said, “and don’t worry about watches until I give you leave. A night in ought to fix you up again, I think; but we will see what you look like when you turn out for breakfast to-morrow.”
I was soon asleep again, but the first bugle call for dinner awakened me, and, feeling a good deal better, I turned out and dressed, noticing, as I did so, that the ship’s movements were very much easier and more rhythmical than when I had lain down. Indeed, I had the feeling that she was sailing again; and, glancing through my porthole, I found that this was so, and that the weather had cleared. The sea, now a deep sapphire blue, had gone down very considerably, the sky was clear of clouds, and upon looking more closely at the water I was able to detect the shadow of the ship upon it, and thereby determine that she was under her three topsails, courses, fore-topmast staysail, and spanker. And by the swirl of yeast past my port I estimated that she must be reeling off about eight knots.
While I was still engaged in dressing there came a gentle tap at my door, to which I answered “Come!” whereupon the door opened and Harper entered.
“So you are turning out again,” he said, after standing and looking at me a moment. “How do you find yourself?”
“Oh! ever so much better,” I replied; “indeed, I think I may say that I am practically all right again. The soreness of my chest is all but gone, and—”
“Let me feel your pulse,” he commanded; and I stretched out my arm to him.
He laid his finger on my pulse and kept it there for about half a minute.
“Yes,” he said, “you’ll do; nothing very much the matter with you. Now, look here, boy, Mrs Vansittart has instructed me to come and see how you are getting on, and to say that if you feel equal to it, she would like you to join the saloon party at dinner to-night—just themselves, you and I, you know, alone. The fact is that they are all eager to tell you what they feel about your exploit of this morning, and they will not be happy until they have done so. Do you feel equal to the ordeal; or shall I go back and say that they must excuse you for a little while longer? I think you can stand it, you know. What say you?”
“Oh, yes!” I replied, “I dare say I can stand it. I suppose it will have to come sometime, so I might as well get it over and done with. But, I say, Doctor, just give them a hint to go easy with their thanks, will you, there’s a good fellow. If there is one thing I hate more than anything else, it is being made a fuss of. You understand me?”
“Why, of course I do, my dear chap,” was the reply. “It is frightfully trying, I know; but you mustn’t grudge them the satisfaction of expressing their gratitude to you—see? I’ll take care that they shall not carry the thing too far. I’ll tell ’em that you’re not in condition to stand very much excitement just yet. Well, then, so long. See you again later.”
As soon as I had finished dressing I seated myself in the very comfortable revolving chair in front of my writing desk, to await the second bugle call to dinner; but I had scarcely done so when a steward came along to my cabin, bearing a medicine glass containing a draught which he said the doctor had sent me, with instructions that I was to take it at once. I accordingly tossed it off; and a few minutes later the second dinner call sounded, and I made my way aft and up the companion way to the drawing-room, where I found Mrs Vansittart, her daughter, Monroe, and the doctor already assembled.
As one of the stewards flung open the door and announced me, Mrs Vansittart came forward, seized my hands in both of hers, and looked up into my face with eyes that were swimming with tears. For a moment her lips quivered, speechless; then, recovering command of herself, she said:
“Welcome—a thousand welcomes, Mr Leigh! Doctor Harper has explained to us that it is only by making a great effort you find yourself able to meet us to-night and give us a chance to express our lifelong gratitude to you for your noble, gallant deed.” Again her emotion overcame her; and presently, after a brave but ineffectual struggle to be formal and restrained, she suddenly let herself go, and, bursting into tears, exclaimed:
“Oh! you dear, dear boy, Walter, how can I ever thank you enough? I am a happy, grateful woman to-night, for the doctor has just assured me that Julius will certainly recover; whereas, but for you, he would—would—have been—” She could get no further; so in lieu of words the dear lady lifted my hands to her lips and kissed them repeatedly. Then, to my intense relief, Harper stepped forward, and, gently taking her by the arm, led her to a seat, saying:
“Now, my dear lady, this will never do, you know. You must pull yourself together, or I shall have another case upon my sick list. If I had suspected that this was going to happen I would not have allowed Leigh to come to you so soon. This has been a very trying day for you, I know, but—”
“Yes, it has, Doctor,” she sobbed, “and of course it has upset me a bit; but just leave me alone for a minute or two, and I shall be all right again.”
While she was saying this, Miss Anthea came forward, and, frankly extending her hand, expressed her own thanks to me for having saved her brother’s life. “And, Mr Leigh,” she continued in a low voice, “I take back every one of those horrid things that I’ve said about Englishmen in your hearing. I am downright ashamed of myself. Will you forgive me?”
“Why, of course I will, very freely and willingly,” I said. “Please forget all about them, as I shall.”
“Thank you!” she said. “My brother—”
But at this moment Marsh flung open the door, and, in his most impressive manner, announced that dinner was served, thus putting an end to what I felt to be a most embarrassing situation.
“You are to take me down to dinner, if you please, Mr Leigh,” said Miss Anthea, linking her arm in mine. “I insisted upon it,” she explained, “because I want to make you understand how sorry and ashamed I am at the way I have behaved to you all through the voyage—”
“But,” I said, “I thought it was agreed that that should be all forgotten.”
“So it shall be,” she said, “since you are so generous as to wish it. But before we entirely relegate the matter to oblivion, I want to explain that my stupid prejudice against Englishmen is not at all founded upon experience, for the few Englishmen whom I have met—true, they have been very few—have all been unexceptionable. I don’t know why it is, but it seems to be the fashion for us Americans to speak and think of Englishmen as being of a different clay from ourselves, something infinitely inferior to us in every respect—effete, and all that sort of thing; and so much is this the case that a good many of us really come to believe it at last. There! I have made my confession, cried peccavi, and have been forgiven; and I feel ever so much happier. Now, please tell me about yourself. I want to know whether you have quite recovered from the effect of your dreadful exertions this morning. My! I don’t believe I shall ever forget how I felt when I rushed up on deck to find out what all the confusion was about, and saw you swimming in the water, ever so far away, with Julius hanging over your shoulder.”