“And have you received such a statement in regard to your 'disturbance of nature,' sir?”
“That I have, sirs. Our cutter was cruising about a league off shore two nights ago, light breeze from west-nor'-west, sail set; mainsail, foresail, jib, speed three knots. Hour, two bells in the morning, Master in charge on deck, watch, larboard—names if necessary. Reports, night sultry, cloudless since second dog watch, attention called to sounds as of discharge of great guns in nor'-nor'west. Lasted some minutes, not continuous; followed by noise as of a huge wave breaking, or the fall of a cataract in same quarter. Took in jib, mainsail haul, stand by to lower gaff. No further sounds reported, but sea suddenly got up, though no change of wind, force or direction, and till four bells cutter sailed through waves choppy as if half a gale had been blowing. After four bells gradual calm. Nothing further to report till eight bells, when cutter, tacking east-nor'east, all sail set, gunner's mate found in it a dead fish. Master reports quantity of dead fish floating around. Took five aboard—namely, hake two, rock codling one, turbot two, rock codling with tail damaged. That's a statement we can trust, Mr. Hartwell. Yesterday it was supplemented by accounts brought by my men of the coast patrol, of quantities of dead fish washed ashore in various directions. And now comes this marvellous tide. Sirs, have not I some grounds for touching upon such a subject as 'a great disturbance of nature'?”
“Ample, sir, ample,” said Wesley. “Pray, does your West Indian experience justify you in coming to any conclusion in regard to these things?”
“I have heard of fish being killed by the action of a volcano beneath the sea,” said the officer. “I have heard it said that all the Leeward Islands are volcanos, though only one was firing broadsides the year that I was with my Lord Hawke. 'Twas at Martinique which we took from the French. Even before the island came in sight, our sails were black with dust and our decks were strewn with cinders. But when we drew nigh to the island and saw the outburst of molten rocks flying up to the very sky itself—sir, I say to you that when a man has seen such a sight as that, he is not disposed to shudder at all that a foolish fellow who has never sailed further than the Bristol Channel may prate about the Day of Judgment.”
“And to your thinking, sir, an earthquake or some such convulsion of nature hath taken place at the bottom of our peaceful Channel?” said Wesley.
“In my thinking, sir, yes. But I would not say that the convulsion was at the bottom of the Channel; it may have been an hundred leagues in the Atlantic. And more is to come, sirs; take my word for it, more is to come. Look at yonder sun; 'tis more ominous than ever. I shall look out for volcano dust in the next rain, and advise the near-, est station east'ard to warn all the fishing craft to make snug, and be ready for the worst. I should not be surprised to find that the tide is still rising, and so I wish you good-morning, sirs.”
He took off his hat and resumed his patrol of the coast.
“This is a day of surprises,” said Wesley.
“The story of the fish is difficult to believe, in spite of the cocoon of particulars in which it is enclosed,” said Hartwell. “The greatest marvel in a mariner's life seems to me to be his imagination and his readiness of resource when it comes to a question of memory. A volcano mountain in our Channel!”
“Do not condemn the master of the revenue cutter too hastily,” said Wesley. “His story corresponds very nearly to that narrated to me yesterday by Polwhele.”