Chapter Thirty.
An Apparition!
“Goodness gracious me!” exclaimed Mrs Major Negus in accents of genuine terror, “the world’s coming to an end!” and she sank down in a heap on the ground, close to the door of the general room, where she had been standing uncertain whether to go out or in.
There was ample reason for the good lady’s consternation, for danger seemed staring her in the face in either direction.
On the one hand, the flood in the valley appeared approaching as if to swallow up the hut and all its belongings; while, on the other, the deafening noise of the water pouring down from the cliff above on to the roof made everybody feel impelled to quit the house.
Mary Llewellyn, the stewardess, generally a quiet and retiring person, was driven into a fit of hysterics by the concatenation of horrors that all at once surrounded them.
As for the children, they shared the fright of their elders, Florry clinging convulsively to Kate, who had dropped on her knees and was praying in the corner—believing really that the last supreme moment was at hand.
The men, too—they had been hastily called together the moment the dangerous predicament of the roof was noticed, and had begun to knock together a sort of wooden shield to interpose between the cliff and the top of the house, so that the water might rim over it in the fashion of a spout—stopped in their task with one accord, staring as if bewildered at each other the moment the terrible black snow began to fall from the sombre pall-like clouds which hung over the creek. This was immediately after the cascade of water came down the cliff; and so frightened were they, that not one of them uttered a word, nor did Mr McCarthy, who had summoned them together, urge them on with their work. All remained spell-bound and tongue-tied.
“It air orfull,” said Mr Lathrope, drawing a deep breath, and looking up at the sky as if to peer into its mysteries. “I guess I never seed such a fall before—no, nor nobody else in the land of the living!”
No one answered him, however; for, at that moment, there was a strange concussion in the air, the earth shaking beneath their feet, and they were all thrown to the ground. At the same time, the black flakes descended faster and faster as if to bury them, and some of the men, imitating the example of the women, cried out in positive alarm.
Mr Meldrum was the first to recover his self-command.
“Silence!” he shouted, making his powerful voice heard above the chorus of groans and shrieks that arose from the frightened men and screaming women. “It’s only an earthquake; and God will protect us here against the perils of the land, the same as he did through the tempests of the deep! Let us meet what may be in store for us with the courage of brave men and faith of Christians!”
His words at once checked the tumult—even the stewardess and Mrs Negus hushing down their wailing outcry to an occasional moan or faint muffled sob, which they could not quite stifle; but the strange rocking motion of the ground, which seemed as if they were again on shipboard, prevented the yen from at once regaining their feet, only a few being able to scramble up into an erect position by holding on to the supports of the house, which fortunately stood the shock of the subterranean commotion without giving way.
“The worst is past now,” said Mr Meldrum presently, as the throbs of the earthquake grew less and less potent and the quivering sensation, which appeared to jingle through every nerve in their bodies, died away into a faint rumbling in the distance, that finally disappeared a few seconds afterwards—the whole thing not lasting longer than a minute altogether, although it seemed more than an hour to the terror-stricken people. “I don’t think we’ll have another shock.”
He stood up firmly as he spoke; and those of the men who were still lying on the ground rose too.
“But the snow, sir,” said one. “What does that mean?”
“Why, look—can’t you see!” replied he, drawing his hand over his face and showing it to the speaker.
“Lor’ bless us!” ejaculated the sailor. “It’s only smut from the chimbley.”
“Ah! it came from a bigger chimney than we have here,” said Mr Meldrum. “There has been a volcanic eruption on the island; and what we all thought was black snow was only the ashes thrown up from the crater, and these have now been brought down from the higher air by the descending ram.”
“Snakes and alligators!” exclaimed Mr Lathrope, who was one of the last to get on his long legs and when he did so appeared to touch the ground as tenderly “as if he were a cat treading on hot eggs,” as Mr McCarthy said. “If I wurn’t clean took in, and thought the outlandish thing wer nat’ral, like the red rain I’ve heerd folks tell o’ seeing in some parts of the world! I guess you was startled, too, mister, and kinder frit!”
“I confess I was, at first,” replied Mr Meldrum, “till I felt the earthquake. Then I recollected about the volcano.”
“Oh! the one down south, that we seed to leeward when the old ship poked her nose on the reef?”
“The same,” said the other. “It was smoking then; and we’ve just had the eruption. It is pretty nearly over, I think, however, for the ashes are not falling quite so thickly now.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” said Mr Lathrope. “Gin it didn’t stop soon, we’d all be transmogrified inter blacker niggers than the cook haar!”
“I ain’t no nigger, massa!” interposed Snowball, feeling his dignity insulted by the remark.
“My crickey!” ejaculated the American, emitting a shrill whistle of astonishment at the naïve assertion. “Then what, in the name of George Washington and Abe Lincoln rolled into one, air you, sir-ree!”
“I’se a ’spectable collud genlemun,” replied the darkey pompously.
“I guess you’ll do,” said Mr Lathrope laughing. “Jest hear that, now! Waal, never mind, my Ethiopian serenader,” he added good-humouredly. “You’re none the worse fur your colour, as fur as I ken see; and I will say this fur you, that you’re the slickest and smartest ship’s cook I ever came across from Maine to Californy; and that’s saying something!”
“Tank you, massa,” replied Snowball, much flattered by the compliment. “I make you one good rabbit-pie next time I’se get rabbits.”
“That’s a bargain!” said Mr Lathrope; and there the incident ended.
“Rouse up there with that spout!” shouted out Mr McCarthy, who had at once turned back to tackle the roof as soon as the alarm caused by the earthquake had passed away. “Bedad, if you don’t look pretty sharp, there’ll be no ruff to put it on, at all at all!”
“That’s right!” said Mr Meldrum. “In the fear of a greater calamity, I had forgotten the lesser danger! Do you think the roof will bear the pressure on it?”
“Sure, sorr,” replied the other. “It has borne it all this toime, and the ould house has stood the airthquake; so, there’s hopes that it’ll last out yit! It is more frightened of the flood coming up and swaping it away I am, than that the wather’ll do it any harm.”
“Then we’re safe, thank God!” said Mr Meldrum. “The river has not swelled any more since I last marked it. It seems to have worn a channel deep enough to carry off all the overflow from the valley, without spreading further and threatening the house. I think we are out of danger now.”
“We’ve much to be thankful for, papa,” observed Kate thoughtfully.
Frank had joined her within, after the last shock of earthquake, having been engaged before in helping Mr McCarthy on the roof; so his prayers had ascended to heaven along with hers, the two kneeling side by side in silent worship and praise to Him who had watched over them.
Coming out of the house together, they had approached the spot where Mr Meldrum was standing.
“Yes, my child, we have much to be thankful for,” said he in answer to Kate’s observation. “You need not fear now, my dear,” he added.
“I was not frightened, even when the earth trembled, papa.”
“No!” said he inquiringly.
“No, not a bit,” she answered quietly; “although, I confess, I thought we should all be killed. I can’t tell what sort of feeling seemed to possess me; but I felt quite peaceful and happy, as if I were prepared to die!”
“Ah!” said her father, “you had that peace which the world cannot give! I—I—”
“I felt happy, papa,” continued Kate, as if uttering her thoughts aloud, “because I thought we would see mamma again—you, and I, and Florry.”
“And didn’t you think of me too, Kate; and wish me to be with you?” asked Frank eagerly.
“Yes, you too,” said she. “Don’t you belong to me now?” Mr Meldrum did not hear Frank’s answer; for his attention was at that moment called away by Ben Boltrope, who had come up to report that the roof had been made snug, the water from the cliff now arching over it in a cascade, and not pouring down directly on to it as it had done before, when it fell with terrific force right upon the shingles, displacing some which were now repaired as soon as the spout was put up.
The weather improved very much after this, the sun appearing and shining with increasing power each day, while the snow disappeared entirely from the valleys and lower portions of the hills. The water below, however, did not drain off sufficiently to allow of any excursion for some days towards the rabbit warren they had visited before, or of their going anywhere, indeed, far from the little stretch of beach before the creek.
But, in spite of this drawback, the castaways’ stock of provisions was most unexpectedly added to, a very agreeable change of diet from penguin fricassees being introduced, by the coming of large flocks of wild ducks, which visited the valley a few days after they were all in danger of being flooded out. The water evidently was the attraction, for, previously, none of the water-fowl had ever come near the place—with the exception of a solitary couple of teal that Mr Meldrum had noticed flying over the creek shortly after they landed from the wreck.
The first day that they had roast duck for dinner, everybody thought that Mr Lathrope would have said something about the unexpected treat; but he did not, and Mrs Major Negus seemed somehow or other much vexed at his silence in the matter.
“You generally speak a good deal about eating,” said she at last impatiently. “I wonder why you’ve nothing to say now!”
“Ah! marm,” replied Mr Lathrope, “don’t you be surprised at anything! I’d advise you never to measure other people’s corns by your own chilblains! Because you happen to set your fancy on a thing, that’s no reason for other folks to do the same!”
“No,” said she; “though I can’t see the application of your remark about chilblains, for I never had one in my life.”
“Ah! that’s a sort of metaphorical conundrum, which I leave you to find out bye and bye! But, if you’d really like to know why I ain’t satisfied with having roast duck to dinner, I’ll tell you; it makes me feel kinder lonesome, it dew!”
“Why!”
“’Cause there ain’t no green peas with it, marm,” said Mr Lathrope, with a melancholy smile. “I guess I’m a whale on peas, I am!”
It was now the end of September; but the month was not fated to pass without another event happening to break the monotonous life of the little party. On its very last day, something occurred which took them all by surprise.
It may be remembered that when Mr Meldrum assumed the command of the party in the place of Captain Dinks, who was still on the sick list and recovering slowly but yet far from well, he established certain regulations for the employment of the men.
Amongst the several duties they had to perform, in accordance with these regulations, was the one of keeping watch, as if on guard, for a certain stated number of hours at the foot of a short flagstaff which had been erected on the top of a little eminence overlooking the beach in front of the creek—a man being stationed here regularly to report anything that might come in sight. This duty, it may be added, had been a sinecure from the date of its institution, nothing having ever since been seen.
On this last day of September, however, all hands were electrified by the look-out man calling out, just about noon.
“Sail ho!”
“A sail!” cried Mr Meldrum, quite as much astonished as the rest; and he hurried out to scan the offing. However, he could not see anything, and thought the man must have been asleep at his post and dreaming. “Do you know what you are saying?” he called out to the look-out. “Where away is this sail, my man!”
“Far off on the port side of the reef, sir,” answered the sailor, speaking quite composedly.
“What do you make it?” asked the other, as he hastened to the look-out station, which commanded a larger stretch of the coast than could be seen from the house—Mr McCarthy and the others following after him with anxious curiosity.
“Looks like a boat’s sail, sir; but, it’s so far to leeward, I can’t quite make it out yet.”
“I see,” said Mr Meldrum, who had now reached the man, taking his glass from his pocket and looking in the direction pointed out. “Yes, there is a small boat, sure enough. By Jove,” he added presently, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it were the missing mutineers in the longboat turned up at last! Look, McCarthy, and see if you don’t recognise the Nancy Bell’s boat by the white streak below the gunwale.”
The first-mate took the telescope and gazed intently at the approaching object for some few moments. He then turned round and stared at Mr Meldrum.
“Be jabers, it is the longboat, sorr!” he exclaimed at length; “and faix, sorr, I belave I can say that baste Moody lookin’ out over the gunwale, as if tellin’ thim where to steer, with his long black hair and ugly mug, and the cut across his hid which the cap’en giv him wid the butt end of his pistol! The murtherin’ villin! won’t I be aven wid him if iver he comes ashore, and pay him out—bad cess to him!”
“Are you sure,” said Mr Meldrum, “that it is the long-boat?”
“As sartin as there’s mud in a ditch, son—the divil a doubt of it!”