The next instant the brave fellow was down on the deck, stabbed in a dozen places from behind, and the life kicked and trampled out of him by the fighting, panic-stricken crowd of miners, who were now simply beside themselves with terror, and practically as irresponsible as so many wild beasts.
At this juncture the skipper, with some half a dozen seamen to support him, arrived upon the scene from forward—where he had apparently rushed, at the first alarm, to investigate the condition of the ship; and, pressing his way into the heart of the howling, struggling mob, endeavoured to bring them to their senses by assuring them that there were boats enough for all, but that their only chance of being saved lay in allowing the sailors access to the tackles so that the boats might be properly launched. But before the poor fellow could get any further, he, too, went down and disappeared, amid shouts of “Our lives is as good as yours! We’ve got the boats, and we mean to keep ’em!” and so on. And, in the height of the confusion, someone cut the bow tackle of the larboard quarter boat, with the result that her bow suddenly dropped into the water while her stern still hung suspended from the davit, and every man of the crowd who had scrambled into her was instantly precipitated into the water.
While this was going on upon the poop, the entire crowd of cuddy passengers appeared to be huddled together about the companion, utterly helpless and bewildered, while a party of seamen were working desperately down on the main deck to get the four boats off the gallows. I could not see that anyone was doing anything to clear away the long boat; but that was probably because she had been destroyed by the fall of the mainmast, which appeared to have crashed right down on the top of her.
As for me, I did nothing; for the simple reason that there was nothing to be done; the ship was sinking fast—so fast, indeed, that she would probably plunge head first to the bottom in less than five minutes, which—taking into consideration the state of absolute panic that prevailed, and the inextricable raffle of wreckage that cumbered and filled the decks—would leave no time in which to construct even the rudest kind of raft. No, there seemed to be nothing for it but for all hands to go down with the ship, thanks to the terror-stricken selfishness of the ’tween-decks passengers, who were too ignorant to do anything useful themselves, and too obstinate and distrustful to allow anyone else to do anything. For myself, I had made up my mind not to give in and die so long as I could do anything to help myself; I was a good swimmer, and when the ship went down I should look out for a piece of wreckage, and cling to it until I was picked up by some passing ship, or perished of hunger and thirst.
Suddenly, as I was standing close to the binnacle, watching the frantic mob of fighting miners, a woman emerged from the after companion, close beside me. She glanced round for a moment, in terror at the conflict that was raging about the boats, and then, stepping quickly to my side, laid her hand upon my arm—I could see the gleam and glitter of gems upon it in the dim starlight—and said, in a voice which I at once recognised as that of Miss Onslow:
“Oh, Mr Conyers, what does all this mean? What has happened? Is the ship sinking? For pity’s sake tell me?”
“Miss Onslow,” said I, “summon all your courage to your aid, I beg you, for you will need it. I have the worst possible news to tell you. The ship is sinking fast—she will probably go down in another two or three minutes; and I think it doubtful in the extreme whether any one of us will survive to tell the tale!”
“O God!” she gasped. “My father—I am his only child—and this will kill him! Well, if it must be so, God’s will be done!”
Not a word about herself, no outcry of natural fear at the near approach of the King of Terrors! It was of her father, and the heart-breaking sorrow that he would feel at her loss, that she thought at this dread moment! As this idea presented itself to me a world of admiration for such marvellous courage and unselfishness leapt into being within me, and, turning to her, I grasped the hand that still unconsciously rested upon my arm, and said:
“Miss Onslow, I have no hope to offer you; but if you are willing to trust yourself to me I will do my utmost to save you. At the worst we shall be no worse off than we are now.”