“Run ahead, Joey!” he cried. The dog, a weird little figure leaning forward at a ridiculous angle against the tearing wind, obeyed instantly. “Now, you,” he said to Elsie, “but wait until I pass you at the top.”
Though her skirts were troublesome, she managed the ascent. Then she was taken off her feet again, and hardly knew where she was until she found herself in the haven of Courtenay’s cabin. Joey was glad to be there, too. He shook himself noisily in his heavy coat.
“You won’t mind if I fasten the door on you?” and the captain so far forgot his anxiety as to smile.
“No, indeed,” and she smiled in response.
“Very well. I shall bring Miss Baring in about five minutes. You won’t stir till we come?”
“What? Face that gale without you?” She almost laughed at the idea. He bolted the door, and he ran into the chart-house to tap the barometer. It moved appreciably. It was rising! Ah, if only the wind moderated, he could save the Kansas yet! He glanced at the compass. Still the same course. Not a fraction of a point gained to the north. That was bad. The ship was already within the danger zone. Pray Heaven for a falling wind, or even a change to the southward! Still, it was in an altogether more cheerful mood that he regained the promenade deck and made his way towards the saloon.
He was in the very act of entering the doorway when a shudder ran through the ship, and she lifted slightly. Clinging to a rail, he waited, rigid as a statue. A second time the great steel hull shook, but much more violently. Then the Kansas ran her nose into a shoal, swung round broadside to the sea, lifted again, struck heavily, and listed to port.
Courtenay was on the starboard side. He heard a yell of dismay from the men attending to the boats. Screams came from the saloon. The sea leaped triumphantly over the rails and nearly smothered him with its dense spray. So this was the end? It had come all too soon. And what a place for the ship to be cast away! Twenty miles from the nearest land, in the midst of a sea where no boat could live. God help them all!
CHAPTER V.
THE KANSAS SUSTAINS A CHECK—
Once, in early days, when Courtenay was a middy on a destroyer, his ship ran ashore on the Manacles. After a bump or two, and a noise like the snapping of trees during a hurricane, the little vessel broke her back, and the after part, with the engines, fell away into deep water. Courtenay happened to be on the bridge; the forward half held intact, so he and the other survivors clambered ashore at low water.