A storm at sea is bad enough in the daytime, but at night it is terrible; for then, the peril unseen is so magnified by the terror-stricken mind as to become far more appalling than a much greater danger seen face to face and realised:— the latter can be grappled with, but the former, by its very intangibility and “unreachableness,” daunts the bravest heart and paralyses the strongest arm!
Llewellyn, the steward, managed to procure a light, which he did only after much delay—the racket and uproar having apparently sent his little wits wool-gathering—the cuddy looked the very picture of desolation, almost leading to the belief that the sea had made a clean breach through the sides of the ship in one of its rude onslaughts dashing everything to pieces.
Fortunately, however, this was not the case, although the saloon skylight had been carried away, gratings and all, and a considerable amount of water had come down through the opening, which loomed now above the semi-lighted space like a large hole broken in the deck; but, by reason of the carrying away of the table and seats from their lashings and ring-bolt fastenings and now being washed in a jumbled heap to one side of the cuddy, the cabins to leeward were so completely barricaded that their occupants were prevented from issuing forth. It was from this quarter that the cries for help proceeded—the voice of Mrs Major Negus, it need hardly be mentioned, predominating, although the American passenger, who had a berth alongside that distinguished lady, also sang out pretty loudly.
“Hullo, steward!” called out Mr Meldrum on seeing the light, having already opened the door of his state-room, which had a sliding panel and was undamaged as far as he could notice. “Why, what’s the matter!”
“Only shipped a sea, sir,” answered Llewellyn rather gruffly, for he was annoyed at being roused from his sleep, “though from the row they’re a-making one would think we were all going to the bottom!”
“Much mischief done, eh?” asked Mr Meldrum, taking in at a glance the havoc in the cuddy—“I mean on deck,” he added.
“Can’t say, sir,” replied the other; “ain’t had time to look about here yet, much less to go up and see! It’s a bad berth that o’ steward to a lot of bawling females on a passenger ship; I’d liefer—”
But, his grumblings were stopped for the moment by the renewed loud screams of Mrs Major Negus—who was his pet aversion on board on account of her giving him more trouble than all the rest combined, while Master Maurice really was the plague of his life.
“Steward—stew-ard!” she cried, “Come here at once and get me out! I’m all smothered and drowned, and nobody will help me! Stew-ard! I’m dying—I’ll tell the captain with my last breath. Stew-ard!”
“Sure I’m coming, mum, as fast as I can,” sang out Llewellyn aloud, adding sotto voce for his own satisfaction, “Hang that Major Madam! I’d never have shipped in the Nancy Bell if I had a-knowed she was coming aboard! Bless you, mum, I’m coming—everything is all right and there isn’t no cause for alarm!”