“That is a practical idea,” said I.
“Yes,” replied Pitferge, “there’s money to be gained or lost by that!”
In the meantime the “Great Eastern” was slowly but steadily continuing her way; the swell was frightful, but her straight stem cut the waves regularly, and shipped no more water. It was no longer a metal mountain making against a mountain of water, but as sedentary as a rock; the “Great Eastern” received the billows with perfect indifference. The rain fell in torrents, and we were obliged to take refuge under the eaves of the grand saloon; with the shower the violence of the wind and sea assuaged; the western sky grew clear, and the last black clouds vanished in the opposite horizon; at ten o’clock the hurricane sent us a farewell gust.
At noon an observation was able to be made and was as follows:—
| Lat. | 49° 50´, N. |
| Long. | 61° 57´, W. |
| Course, | 193 miles. |
This considerable diminution in the ship’s speed could only be attributed to the tempest, which during the night and morning had incessantly beaten against the ship, and a tempest so terrible that one of the passengers, almost an inhabitant of the Atlantic, which he had crossed forty-four times, declared he had never seen the like. The engineer even said that during the storm, when the “Great Eastern” was three days in the trough of the sea, the ship had never been attacked with such violence, and it must be repeated that even if this admirable steam-ship did go at an inferior speed, and rolled decidedly too much, she nevertheless presented a sure security against the fury of the sea, which she resisted like a block, owing to the perfect homogeneity[homogeneity] of her construction.
But let me also say, however powerful she might be, it was not right to expose her, without any reason whatever, to a baffling sea; for however strong, however imposing a ship may appear, it is not “disgraced” because it flies before the tempest. A commander ought always to remember that a man’s life is worth more than the mere satisfaction of his own pride. In any case, to be obstinate is blameable, and to be wilful is dangerous. A recent incident in which a dreadful catastrophe happened to a Transatlantic steamer shows us that a captain ought not to struggle blindly against the sea, even when he sees the boat of a rival company creeping ahead.
CHAPTER XXVI.
In the meantime the pumps were exhausting the lake which had been formed in the hold of the “Great Eastern,” like a lagoon in the middle of an island; powerfully and rapidly worked by steam they speedily restored to the Atlantic that which belonged to it. The rain had ceased and the wind freshened again, but the sky, swept by the tempest, was clear. I stayed several hours after dark walking on deck. Great floods of light poured from the half-opened hatchways of the saloons, and at the stern stretched a phosphorescent light as far as the eye could reach, streaked here and there by the luminous crests of the waves. The stars reflected in the lactescent water appeared and disappeared, as though peering through rapidly driving clouds. Night had spread her sombre covering far and near; forward roared the thunder of the wheels, whilst beneath me I heard the clanking of the rudder-chains.
Going back to the saloon door I was surprised to see there a compact crowd of spectators, and to hear vociferous applauses, for, in spite of the day’s disasters, the entertainment was taking place as usual. Not a thought of the wounded and, perhaps, dying sailor. The assembly seemed highly animated, and loud hurrahs hailed the appearance of a troop of minstrels on board the “Great Eastern.” The niggers—black, or blackened, according to their origin—were no others than sailors in disguise. They were dressed in cast-off trumpery, ornamented with sea-biscuits for buttons; the opera-glasses which they sported were composed of two bottles fastened together, and their jew’s-harps consisted of catgut stretched on cork. These merry-andrews were amusing enough upon the whole; they sang comic songs, and improvised a mixture of puns and cock-and-bull stories. The uproarious cheers with which their performances were greeted only made them increase their contortions and grimaces, until one of them, as nimble as a monkey, finished the performance by dancing the sailor’s hornpipe.