Twelve days since they saw the last of the ship and only two day’s rations remaining, because in that part of the ocean Mr. Haynes’ fishing line was of practically no use. Only the roughest of dead reckoning had been kept, for not only was there no sextant or chart in the boat but there was no compass, and Mr. Haynes’ course of NE. by E. was merely the expression of habit. So that although they hoped to be drawing near to St. Paul’s Island they could not know with any certainty. And cheeks grew thinner, eyes more hollow and sunken, but, thank God, as yet no word of complaint or anger. Nor had there as yet been any discussion as to what might happen if they sighted neither land nor ship, and all their food and water were gone. Not a word, yet it was in every one’s mind, coupled with the thought that having endured the pangs of semi-starvation for so long, starvation itself could not be so bad to bear.
On the morning of the thirteenth day C. B., standing up to stretch himself as his custom was on waking, took a searching glance all around the horizon. And his eyes lighted upon a dazzling speck of white upon the western verge of the horizon. It did not need a second look to tell him that the blessed vision was the fore royal of a ship lit up by the first gleam of the rising sun. But he said nothing, just waited till the morning prayer was made and the tiny meal was served and eaten. Then he raised himself up again, his heart full of unspoken pleading for those with him, lest a disappointment should await them, and there she was evidently steering in a line with them and coming at such a rate that now her courses or lower square sails were plainly visible. Then C. B. said quietly—
“Dear friends, there’s a ship steering straight for us, and if they are keeping anything of a lookout on board of her they should have seen us by this time. Only we are not so easy to make out as they are, being on the wrong side of the sun.”
No need to ask where, his outstretched arm told them, and all saw her like some mighty angel swooping down on them, and from unaccustomed lips came gently the gracious words, “Thank God.” She fascinated them as she came nearer, a fine full-rigged ship, her stately beauty growing upon them with every scend she made. And now they knew she must see them, for she still steered right for them, and C. B. declared he could see men on the foreyard. Nearer, nearer still, until suddenly she swung up into the wind, showing a broad band of white along her side which had black above and slate colour beneath, stamping her for all the seafaring world as one of the fine ships of the great firm of Messrs. T. & J. Brocklebank of Liverpool.
The yards on the main swung round in fine style, and she lay motionless but for the gentle heave and sway of the sea. “Out oars,” shouted Haynes, “we mustn’t keep him waiting. Lord, what a lovely ship!” So the oars were shipped and all hands pulled lustily until they got alongside, where they found a whip with a basket already rigged for the hoisting inboard of any too feeble to climb. Mary and her father went up in this way, but the rest of them, in spite of their feebleness, climbed on board pilot fashion up the swaying man ropes. And the boat, like many another good servant that has outlived his usefulness, was turned adrift, much to C. B.’s sorrow.
The genial captain came to meet them and welcome them on board the Majestic. He had over twenty passengers on board and was, of course, bound to Calcutta. Whoever heard of a Brocklebank ship going anywhere else in those days? The lady passengers captured Mary and carried her off, their gentle hearts full of compassion for her sad plight, for in spite of her courage and the calm heroism with which she had endured the misfortune that had befallen them, her sunken cheeks and hollow eyes and wasted arms told their own tale of privation. Her father too, who had borne up amazingly with the dogged courage indeed of the genuine American of the better class, now looked frail and very old, while C. B. and the members of the crew, though thin and haggard, were not nearly so bad as might have been expected.
Hospitality of every kind was shown them, but food and drink were given judiciously, after the well-known rule for fasting persons, and so rapidly did they recover that the next evening they were all, except of course the cook and the seaman, able to come to the well spread saloon dinner table, where they were made very much of. They were indeed a great acquisition to the ship, for swift as her passage had been (those vessels usually made the run out from Liverpool to Calcutta in from eighty to ninety days), the passengers as usual began to feel the tedium of the voyage, as they termed it, hang very heavily upon them. Consequently this romantic break in the monotony was welcomed with great joy by them all, and as they heard more and more of the strange adventures of one at least of their guests, their interest rose to a very high pitch indeed.
It was Saturday, and after dinner the patriarchal skipper announced that he would hold the usual prayer meeting, for he was a Christian indeed, and endeavoured to provide the means of worship for all, while obliging none to attend. And he said, “We shall be able to-night to turn it into a praise meeting for that the Lord has been so good as to let us rescue the perishing.”
C. B. looked up at him wonderingly. He could hardly believe his ears. But there was no mistake at all. He presently realized that for the first time since he had left his beloved home he was going to enjoy what to him was the most precious privilege of life, that of meeting with the Lord’s people in prayer and praise. His eyes sparkled and his face flushed so that his wife, looking up at him, felt the influence and bowed her head in silent thankfulness.
Partly from curiosity, but in some cases in pure reverence, most of the passengers attended the meeting in the saloon that night, also a few of the crew. The grand old skipper presided, and after a hymn had been sung, in which C. B.’s glorious tenor electrified them all, he read a chapter, the stirring story of Paul’s shipwreck by Luke. And then he prayed, being indeed accustomed to take all the parts himself, since up till now no one of his crew or passengers had ever accepted his invariable invitation, “Will any brother or sister lead us in prayer?” There was no change in this evening’s exercises, except that the dear old man was a little less stereotyped than usual, especially when he thanked God for permitting the crew of the Majestic to be the means of rescuing their perishing brothers and sisters.