When Mr Meldrum gained the deck, in company with the captain, he found the wind still blowing with terrific force and a dangerous sea on, although as the gale had not shifted during the last hour from the north-west, to which quarter it had finally veered, there was some hope that they had escaped from the worst of the cyclone and were now being hurried along its outside edge. In one of the last onslaughts of the wind, however, the mainyard truss had been carried away, and the yard swung so violently to and fro after snapping the braces like pack-thread that it seemed as if the main-mast would go; but, fortunately, in one of its mad gyrations, as it moved about like the arms of a semaphore, the yard-arm had caught in the standing rigging on the starboard side, where, through the gallant exertions of Frank Harness and the Norwegian sailor, who performed the task at the peril of their lives, it was firmly lashed and secured from doing further mischief. This operation eased the ship considerably, and certainly saved the masts.
The worst piece of news that the captain had to tell Mr Meldrum was with reference to the manner in which the ship was leaking.
“We had four feet water in her when the carpenter sounded the well at six bells,” said Captain Dinks; “and after rigging the pumps we reduced it considerably; but since then, she has made nearly two feet again—all clear and clean without any bilge in it—which shows she’s taking it in fresh and fast.”
“There must be a big leak somewhere,” said Mr Meldrum, “and the sooner we see about stopping it the better.”
“Yes,” said the captain, “we might keep it down certainly by an hour’s spell in each watch; but it tires out the men so. I think it is coming in somewhere astern; the rudder-post must have started some of the timbers when it got wrenched off.”
“Very probably,” said the other; “but then, the ship has had a good deal of straining the last day or two, besides from the storm in the Bay of Biscay.”
“Ah! she felt that,” replied Captain Dinks. “That’s what, no doubt, weakened the rudder and made it go so easily this morning; but I’ll call the carpenter.”
The port watch had gone below with Mr Adams, to have a little rest, for there was no need of all the crew being on deck, the ship riding out the gale to leeward of the floating anchor which providence had sent them in the shape of the broken foremast, and there being nothing to do; so, on a hail from the captain, Mr McCarthy passed the word forwards for Ben Boltrope, who soon made his appearance out of the fo’c’sle—scrambling aft as well as he could by holding on to every rope in his way, for the vessel rolled and pitched most uneasily, rendering upright walking along the deck an utter impossibility.
“Sarvent, sir,” said he, touching his hat to Mr Meldrum on coming up the poop ladder; “glad to see you on deck.”
“What about this leak, carpenter?” said Captain Dinks. “Please tell Mr Meldrum all you know.”