He set the example, still bearing the insensible boy, and the next minute they had reached the comparative security of the saloon, where the water was now washing to and fro, coming in with a rush and pouring out again.
The first efforts of the two men were now directed towards carefully placing Carey high and dry in an upper berth of one of the state-room cabins, where a lamp was still burning steadily as it swung to and fro.
“Hasn’t killed him, has it, sir?” growled Bostock, excitedly, as the doctor examined his patient.
“No; he is breathing easily, and the bandages have not shifted,” replied the doctor, who then turned upon his companion in misfortune and said in a hard, defiant way: “Well, my man, this seems hard luck; we’re left in the lurch. I suppose the captain will not come back to take us off.”
“Come back and take us off, sir?” said the old sailor, with a bitter laugh. “Not him. He’s got his work cut out to keep that barge afloat. Lord help ’em all, I say, all on ’em in those open boats. There they are afloat among reefs and breakers in a storm like this. For aught we know, sir, they’re all capsized and washing about like so much chaff by now.”
“Then you think we’re better off than they are?”
“No, I don’t,” growled the old man, sourly, as a wave came thundering over the vessel, shaking it from bow to stern. “It won’t be long before one of them breakers’ll make a way in and bust up part of the deck; and after that it won’t be long before she’s ripped in pieces. Lor’ a mussy! the power of a thousand tons o’ water going miles an hour’s awful. Shreds beams into matches, and twists ironwork like wire. It only means a few minutes more to live, doctor; and, as you say, it do seem hard. Poor boy!” he continued, laying his great rough hand tenderly on Carey’s breast. “All his young life before him, and nipped off sudden like this.”
“Poor boy, yes,” said the doctor, gently. “But I’m thankful that he is quite insensible, and will not know the agony we have to face.”
The old sailor looked curiously in his companion’s face.
“Agony!” he said, slowly; “agony! Well, I suppose it is, but I’ve been face to face with the end so many times that I suppose I’ve got a bit blunt. Do you know, sir, it seems to nip me more about that poor young chap than it does about myself.”