“Suppose, gentlemen, we begin to load the boat with necessaries and construct a raft,” said the captain, bluntly. “It strikes me that we have but little time to spare. Mr Parkley, your silver is going back to its home at the bottom of the sea.”
“Yes,” said that gentleman, “and where it will lie, for there seems to be a curse with it all along.”
The boat already launched was as rapidly as possible supplied with water, cold provisions, compass, and sail; and, as soon as these were in, Dutch suggested, and his proposal was agreed to, that his wife and the captain’s daughter should be lowered down in—case of any sudden disposition shown by the ship to sink; but they objected to leave yet until one sad duty that had to be attended to was done.
A funeral at sea is a sad event, and it was more painful here at such a time, when it was a question whether before long everyone present would not have to seek a resting-place in the sea. Below lay the body of poor John Studwick, just as the doctor and Sam Oakum had arranged it, wrapped in a piece of sail-cloth, with a few heavy pieces of iron at the feet, waiting to take its last plunge.
The second boat, only a small one, had also been laden with provisions and water, so that in case of emergency there was nothing to do but to leap into one or the other and push off; and though Captain Studwick proposed making a raft, that was deferred until after the funeral.
It was a solemn scene as the body was reverently brought up from below and laid by the open gangway. The fire still burned slowly and steadily, and the smoke rose and floated away like a great black plume far over the golden water, on whose long swell the schooner rose and fell as easily as if there was no ruin in her midst. All was perfectly still and peaceful as, the arrangements having been made, Captain Studwick stood at the head of the silent, muffled figure, book in hand, and with trembling voice read the prayers for the dead, while those who clustered round forgot their sufferings and all dangers as they listened to the solemn words.
At last the captain stopped and made a sigh, when Sam Oakum gently raised the end of the hatch upon which the body lay, and with a slight rustling noise it glided off with a heavy plunge into the sea, Bessy uttering now a low wail and throwing herself on the deck.
She lay motionless there as, struggling hard to maintain his firmness, the captain finished the solemn words laid down for such an occasion, and then, closing the book, he was the stern man of business again. He gave his orders sharply, and Dutch took his wife in his arms, made fast a rope round her, and lowered her into the larger boat, Bessy submitting herself, as Mr Meldon helped, to be lowered to her side.
Mr Wilson and the doctor followed, Oakum and one of the sailors being the next, so as to take the management of the boat, with orders to push off and lie at about a hundred yards’ distance.
Hester half rose, with outstretched hands, but a word from Dutch reassured her as he set to with the captain and the rest on board to lower down such necessaries as the cabin contained to freight the second boat.