“So it would appear,” assented the baronet. “But candidly now, captain, is not this present voyage of ours rather an eventful one?”
“Undoubtedly it is,” replied I. “Singularly so, thus far. A man might follow the sea all his life without witnessing so many casualties as have come under our notice since we sailed. Yet such casualties are constantly occurring in some part of the world. The only remarkable thing about those of which we have become cognisant is that so many should have occurred in so short a time, and within an area so small as to have permitted of our being in the vicinity of each just when it happened. Even the dreadful occurrence that we witnessed to-night, though it is the first case of the kind that I ever heard of, may be after all nothing very unusual in kind, and may possibly explain the loss of many of the craft that disappear and leave no sign behind them. For instance, it is safe to say that the only human eyes that witnessed the destruction of the Northern Queen are on board this ship, and if we had not seen it the chances are a hundred to one that her fate would never have been known. Martin’s prospects of escape would certainly have been remarkably small; for although, in this fine weather, he might have remained afloat for some time, he might have been passed unnoticed by a ship within a very short distance. Then, after exposure in the water for a certain number of hours, his strength would rapidly fail him, and he would die miserably of starvation, if he did not lose his hold upon the buoy and sink, or be dragged out of it by some hungry shark.”
“Upon my word, you would be an uncommonly cheerful companion for a nervous man,” remarked Sir Edgar, half jestingly, half in earnest. “I declare I shall never in future be able to look at that man without recalling the grim picture you have sketched of him floating helplessly in his life-buoy. You sailors certainly ought to be exceptionally religious men, for it seems to me that not one of you—not one of any of those who go down to the sea in ships—can count with certainty upon his life from one minute to another. Just look around you now, for instance. How gentle and peaceful is the whole aspect of nature at this moment, and how absolutely safe we seem to be! It was just as peaceful—just as apparently safe—three hours ago; yet in the interim a noble ship and her whole crew save one has perished; and what has befallen her may befall us or any other ship that floats, or ever will float, quite as suddenly, quite as unexpectedly. I hope that what we have witnessed to-night will enable us to realise more fully and vividly than ever, how completely we are in the hands of God, and how absolutely dependent upon His mercy. Good night, captain!”
I returned the salutation; and, as the baronet slowly and thoughtfully descended the companion, I mechanically turned away and began to pace the deck, with my thoughts busy upon the solemn words I had just heard, and the occasion that had given rise to them. And, as I did so, albeit I am perhaps no worse than the average man, the carelessness and indifference of my own conduct in the past rose up in judgment against me and condemned me of the grossest ingratitude for countless past mercies; the most shameful disobedience; the most criminal neglect to render to my Creator that honour and glory which is His due. And I there and then registered a solemn vow that from that moment I would lead a new and a better life; a vow that, I grieve to say, was afterwards far too frequently forgotten.
On the following day, after breakfast, Mr Roberts informed me that Martin had asked to be put into a watch; and he wished to know whether I was willing that such an arrangement should be made. I, of course, had no objection whatever to the proposal, as I by no means believe in idle people in the forecastle. So I told Mr Roberts to arrange the matter, and at the same time to keep an eye on the man; it being my intention to regularly ship him, if he proved worth having and should be willing to sign articles; the second mate’s being one hand weaker than the larboard watch.
About a week after this, little Edgar Desmond came up to me and, slipping his hand into mine, as was his wont when he desired to have a chat with me, began, in the straightforward way usual with children—
“Captain, where do you think will be a good place for me to sail my boat, when she is finished?”
“Your boat?” said I. “I didn’t know that you are making one.”
“Oh no,” said the child; “I am not making one; it is that new man, Martin, who is making it for me. And he is making it so nicely; just like a real boat. Come and see it, will you?”
Willing to humour the child, I walked forward with him; and on reaching the forecastle found Martin busy about some ordinary job connected with the usual routine work of the ship. As we halted before him he touched his forehead with his forefinger, in the usual style of the forecastle hand, and paused in his work to hear what we had to say to him.