After all, the most important work of C. B.’s life was steadily progressing without hindrance of any kind, the spiritual education of Captain Taber. That fine man, in spite of his late advice to C. B. about humility, was now exceedingly humble himself and ready to admit his absolute indebtedness to C. B. for his present peace of mind, and what in religious terminology would be called his growth in grace. He certainly was in some respects an entirely changed man since his accident, although it must not for a moment be supposed that he was ever anything but just, kind and brave. It was only in the one thing needful that he was then lacking, and that had now been supplied through the agency of his friend, so that he had become a centre of spirituality from which continually emanated a sweet aroma of content and love of all mankind.
The captain and chief officer of the Golden Gate spent much time with Captain Taber, although it must be said that they did not take to C. B. very much. The sea tradition was strong with them, and as they looked upon C. B. as a sort of menial in his personal attendance upon the captain, they felt that discipline forbade them giving him any opportunity to impose. He never noticed their reserve, in fact he was almost impervious to the slights that most of us resent so much, because of his want of self-consciousness, which went a long way to account for his happiness. As soon as either the captain or the mate came to have a yarn with his patient he would, first making sure that all was in order, retire on deck, where he was always in request, and remain there until his friend was alone again. In this way he made the acquaintance of nearly everybody in the ship and enjoyed himself very much, especially when the vessel drew into the bad-weather zone, and gales of wind with heavy seas kept the passengers below. But one afternoon, as he was engaged in earnest conversation with one of the quartermasters whose turn it was to look after the promenade deck, he saw with a thrill of horror a female emerge from the saloon, cross the deck to the lee rail, deliberately mount it and topple overboard. As soon as he had seen her making for the rail he started to run towards her, so that he was on the spot almost in time to catch her by her clothing. He just missed her, however, and with a roar of “Stop the ship!” that was heard high above the gale, he plunged after her. A few mighty strokes and he was by her side, only just in time to snatch her long hair and fight his way from the ship to avoid the indraught of the propeller, which if not stopped in time means awful mutilation to a body in the water, and the strongest swimmer coming within its vortex is entirely helpless.
The ship was stopped so promptly that he was but a couple of hundred yards away, but the sea was running very heavily with breaking crests, and great as was his strength and skill, the burden of a woman to support who could still struggle was a task that could not be endured for long. As usual in merchant ships, especially steamers in those days, the boats were secured as if they were never intended to be used; not only so, but because of gross neglect the lashings and gripes were rusted and clogged with paint, while the boats themselves, never having been in the water for months nor having any water in them through being carefully covered in, were leaky as sieves.
Consequently it was nearly twenty minutes before the boat was in the water, and when she was, for lack of ability to handle her it looked for some time as if her lowering was going to cost several more lives. And all this time Captain Taber in his berth was suffering mental tortures, having been informed of the cause of the uproar by the Japanese berth attendant. Nor was his anxiety selfish. He could not bear the idea of his faithful friend being done to death like that, he to whom the water was as familiar as the dry land. At last in his agony he betook himself to prayer and was immediately comforted. Not only so but the quiet that had reigned for some time gave place to tramplings overhead and shoutings, showing that something had been or was being done.
It was fortunate that the vessel had stopped so promptly, as well as that she had such little way on her at the time, steaming as she was head to sea. Otherwise it would have been impossible to save the two lives owing to the bungling in boat handling. As it was, when the boat did reach them C. B. was just at the end of his resources, and when lifted into the boat was almost as far gone as the woman he had saved. Getting back to the ship, although she was handled with much skill, was a series of wonderful escapes, and but for the promptitude of the second mate, who suggested pouring a lot of oil over the lee bow as the boat was brought alongside, which smoothed the turbulent sea and permitted them to hook on the boat with comparative ease, there must have been disaster.
The two rescued ones were lifted out of the boat in the presence of all the passengers, who had entirely forgotten their seasickness and debility in their anxiety. The bodies were borne below and the doctor worked upon the woman with the greatest perseverance, being at last rewarded by feeling her heart beat and some warmth come from her breast. From thence the task was easy, and the first to convey to the anxiously waiting skipper below was C. B. himself, who apologized for causing his beloved charge so much anxiety, but explained that he could not see the woman drown.
Then the skipper broke down, for he was very weak, and cried like a child, sobbing out that he had felt that if he had lost his friend he must have died too, and that he could never be sufficiently grateful to God for sparing him. While they were thus enjoying their reunion came the captain of the ship, who was visibly moved, and, holding out his hand to C. B., said—
“Young man, I’m proud to have you aboard my ship, for you are indeed a man. You may hardly believe it, but the husband of that lady whose life you have saved is only just aware of what has happened. Both he and she have been shockingly ill, for it seems that they are very bad sailors. And she, in addition to horrible seasickness, had a raging toothache, which must have driven her mad for the time. She says that she quite remembers jumping overboard, says it seemed to her to be the only way out of her misery, but she is very sorry indeed to have given so much trouble. Neither she nor her husband realize yet what the trouble has been, but their seasickness has left them and I guess you’ll hear from them to-morrow. Hope you’re none the worse for your anxiety, Taber, now you’ve got your chum back again. Now I must be off, for the weather’s pretty bad still.” And he strode away.
Next morning the weather had become beautiful again and C. B., having seen his patient all right, was about to take a stroll forward when he was seized by a man with red eyes and wild air, who said—
“Are you the hero who preserved my dear one for me?”