Then, having dressed, I lighted the galley fire, filled and put on a kettle, had a wash in fresh water, and made my way aft to the cabin, where I found Miss Onslow, looking wonderfully fresh and bright after her night’s rest, busily engaged in arranging the cabin table for breakfast. Then came the question: What were we to have? I had a strong fancy for a rasher of bacon, which delicacy seemed also to commend itself to my companion. I therefore looked about for the lazarette hatch, which I discovered underneath a mat at the foot of the companion ladder, and was soon overhauling the contents of the storehouse. The craft proved to be abundantly stocked with excellent provisions, among which I discovered an open cask nearly full of smoked hams, one of which I at once appropriated; and half an hour later found the Indian judge’s daughter and myself seated before a most appetising breakfast.
And, as we ate, we talked—talked of what we were now to do. My companion seemed to be under the impression that the discovery of this derelict brig would in some way alter all our arrangements; but I had no difficulty in demonstrating to her that our object—the making of our way to some civilised port from which we could make a fresh start for Calcutta—still remained the same, the only difference being that whereas on the previous day we had possessed only an open boat, and were starving, we now had a vessel under our feet that, if staunch, would prove far safer and more comfortable than the boat, while we also possessed food in abundance. But, as I pointed out to her, there was a certain price to pay for these advantages, namely, the greatly-increased labour of handling the brig, as compared with the boat; and I thought it advisable to make the young lady understand at once that I should from time to time require her assistance. But I presently discovered that there was no need for me to dwell upon this point; she quickly informed me that she had already planned for herself the performance of what might be called the “domestic” part of the work, such as the preparation of meals, and so on; while she also expressed her perfect readiness to steer, when required, or in any other way assist me, so far as she could. And here I could not avoid being impressed afresh with the extraordinary change that misfortune had wrought in this girl; for whereas while on board the City of Cawnpore she had maintained a demeanour of haughty and repellent reserve that was almost insolent, she now exhibited a gentle submissiveness and amiability of manner, with a quiet, steadfast courage under circumstances, of peculiar and terrible hardship and privation for a gently-nurtured woman, that, conjoined with her exceptional beauty of face and form, exercised a fascination upon me so potent that I frequently found it exceedingly difficult to maintain that equable coolness and strict friendliness of behaviour demanded by the exigencies of our peculiar situation. All of which, however, is merely parenthetical.
Breakfast over, a busy day awaited me. I had used my eyes to good purpose, even while taking my morning tub; and had observed, among other things, that the brig’s canvas was not furled; it had simply been blown clear and clean out of the boltropes. When the accident befell her she had been under courses and single-reefed topsails, spanker, fore-topmast staysail, and jib, for there the boltropes still were, with small fluttering rags of canvas still adhering to them, here and there. There was no difficulty whatever in arriving at a correct conclusion as to what had happened,—the aspect of the ship told the story as plainly as her own crew could have related it. The thing had happened after nightfall—that part of the story was made clear by the litter that had been shot off the cabin table, and which showed that the skipper and one of the mates had been at supper at the time. The single-reefed topsails indicated that it had previously been blowing strong, and I took it that the night had settled down so dark and cloudy that the officer of the watch had failed to note the approach of the squall until too late. The topsail halliards had been let go fore and aft when the squall swooped down upon them, but before it was possible to do anything further the brig had been hove down upon her beam-ends, a panic had seized the crew, they had made a mad rush for the boats, under the conviction that the vessel was capsizing, and they had either been swamped, or had been driven out of sight to leeward, before the brig had righted again. There was no doubt that the squall had been of exceptional violence, for not only were all the sails blown away, but both topgallant-masts were gone at the caps—not only broken off but actually torn away, the rigging that held them having parted.
It would be strange indeed if a vessel, having passed through such an ordeal as this, should not show signs of having been more or less strained, and I was quite prepared to find that she had a considerable amount of water in her. And this anticipation was so far confirmed that, upon sounding the well, I found close upon three and a half feet of water in the hold. This was bad enough, still it was hardly as bad as I had expected; and now, the next thing to find out was whether she was still leaking, or whether what she contained had all drained into her during the time when she lay hove down on her beam-ends. This could be done by patiently waiting some few hours, and then sounding the well again. Or it could be done equally effectively by pumping the hooker dry, and then seeing whether any more water drained into her. It was vitally necessary to restore her to her normal condition of buoyancy as speedily as might be, in view of a possible recurrence of bad weather. But the same contingency rendered it almost, if not quite, as necessary to bend and set a sufficient amount of canvas to put the ship under control; and the first question to be settled was: Which should I first undertake? I considered the matter for a minute or two, and came to the conclusion that the pumping out of that three and a half feet of water would leave my hands in such a blistered and raw condition that they would be practically useless for such work as bending sails; so I determined to undertake the latter job first, especially as there was of course the chance that the weather might continue fine after the springing up of a breeze, in which event, if the brig were under canvas, she would be making headway during the operation of pumping her out.
I was under the impression that on the preceding night I had detected the presence of what might prove to be a sail-locker abaft the after bulkhead of the cabin, so I now descended with the object of further investigating. My surmise proved well founded, for when I opened the door in the bulkhead there lay a whole pile of sails before me, each sail neatly stopped, and many of them apparently quite new. I had come to the conclusion that I would bend the fore-topmast staysail first, and after a great deal of laborious work in turning over the various bundles of canvas I came to what I was searching for, but not until I had previously encountered new fore and main-topsails, which I managed, with considerable difficulty, to drag on deck.
The bending of the staysail was no very serious matter; it simply meant letting go the halliards, dragging upon the downhaul, cutting the boltrope away from the hanks, passing the new seizings, hoisting the sail foot by foot until I had got all the seizings finished, bending the sheets afresh, and there we were.
But to bend a topsail, single-handed, was a much more difficult job. I decided to bend the main-topsail first; and by the time that I had completed my task the day was done and it was growing so dark that I could scarcely see to finish off properly. Nevertheless I was very well content with my day’s work, for I now had canvas enough on the brig to place her under command whenever the breeze might choose to come.
Meanwhile Miss Onslow had been no less busy than myself, in another way. She had started by making herself complete mistress of the brig’s resources, looked at from a housekeeper’s point of view; and in course of the process had discovered—what I had already suspected, but had not found time to verify—that outside the cabin, and alongside the companion ladder, was another stateroom, that, judging from its appearance and contents, had belonged to the mate. This cabin she had overhauled, making an inventory of its contents—which she handed to me—and had then tidied it up and made it ready for my occupation. Moreover, she had taken possession of the galley, and had prepared a good, substantial, and appetising dinner in a style that, if not quite equal to that of a professional cook, betrayed at least an aptitude that was as creditable as it was opportune. She had also found time to do something—I had not the remotest idea what—to her dress that had gone a considerable way toward renovating its appearance and obliterating the disfigurement caused by the action of the sea water upon it; while in other ways she had spruced-up her appearance to an extent that excited my fervent but carefully-concealed admiration.
At sunset that night it was still stark calm, and the sky had a fine, clear, settled aspect that, combined with a slight disposition to rise on the part of the brig’s barometer, led me to anticipate that the calm was destined to endure for a few hours longer. For this I was devoutly thankful, for I had been toiling like a slave all day, fully exposed to the scorching rays of a cloudless sun, and I was fatigued to the verge of exhaustion; it was a great comfort, therefore, to feel that I should not be called upon to look after the ship all night, but might safely indulge in a few hours’ sleep. That I might do so with the greater confidence, I routed out a tarpaulin from below, and with it rigged up a tent on the wheel grating, as a shelter from the heavy dew; bringing up the bed from the mate’s bunk, and turning in on deck. This arrangement ensured that in the event of a breeze springing up during the night I should instantly become aware of it, and be ready to promptly take such measures as might appear necessary.