The tempest was not an “Elisian,” as certain gales from the northwest were designated in the Levant, but blew from the southeast, from which quarter it finally settled into a steady gale.
The immediate danger seemed to be past.
The remnants of the mainsail were gradually cleared away, and the Salapiæ scudded before the wind, under bare poles, with the exception of the closely reefed foresail, which somewhat steadied her. After the decks were cleared of rubbish, all hands were put to work to right the cargo, which was done with great difficulty. The [pg 255]hoarse roar of the gale continued unbroken. It came from a little to the east of south, which was in a direction to drive them directly toward their destination, and there was plenty of sea room which was much in their favor. For their escape the gods were thanked in various tongues, libations poured, and the commotion, which had been so noisy, was quieted.
But anon a cry came up from the lower hold that the Salapiæ was leaking. The first terrible strain of the great mainmast had opened some of the seams, and they were taking water. Once more there was despair upon the faces of the bravest-hearted sailors. The gods of all grades were again invoked, and vows renewed. But the master believed in works as well as petitions.
“Bring out the cables!” he cried. “She must be undergirded!”
With great labor a cable was slipped down over the bow, being held from each side, and passed under and back until it encircled the hull amidships, and then another, and both were strained and fastened as snugly as possible over the deck. It was a vain effort. If it prevented a further opening, it did not stop the leak. The pumps were put in motion with frequent relays.
Soon the eventful day came to an end, and the darkness of night closed around them. The bellowing wind held from the same quarter with no diminution, and the speed, even with little canvas spread, was rapid. If the leak gained upon the pumps, the only safety lay in making Tarsus, and therefore the small amount of sail was then increased as much as it would bear, and the Salapiæ swept on before the wind.
Amidst all the confusion of tongues and conflict of elements, Serenus remained calm and unmoved. Amabel was at first disturbed, but after some reassuring words from her husband, she remained quietly in the cabin, performing such little services for the overworked and panic-stricken sailors as were possible for the delicate hands of a woman. A part of the time Serenus was at her side, and at intervals he went out upon deck to speak words of encouragement to officers and men.
The master sent the second officer below to make reports concerning the progress of the leak. There was intense anxiety to learn whether the Salapiæ were settling, or if the pumps were equal to the inflow.
“Two cubita,” came up in hollow but distinct tones from below.