When the Sea Gives Up Its Dead: A Thrilling Detective Story

by Mrs. George Corbett

“Three of the passengers, including myself, were lying in bunks, so sick and ill that we could do nothing whatever. I do not know whether I was worse than the others or not, but it is certain that I was too helpless to lift the eau-de-Cologne bottle that was lying by my side, although I longed for the use of some of its contents, thinking that it might, perhaps, help to remove the deadly faintness by which I was overpowered. After several hours of this misery the steward came to us for a minute, but did not render us any service. Asked by the stewardess what was thought of the chances of survival by those on deck, he replied that pretty nearly everybody on deck looked for the end every minute. Then we were left to our own reflections again.

“Now this was the time when a panic would have been the most likely to arise, since it was the moment when we practically lost all hope. But, strange as it may seem, the four women at the table sat as quietly as before, and two of them, who were sisters, calmly wondered how the news of their death would be received at home. The other two were crying quietly, and spoke very little. The three sick ones, beyond an occasional moan of misery, gave no outward token of having realised their apparently speedily approaching end, and the only thing that I now longed for was that the steamer, if she was going to sink, would be quick about it, so that my misery would be at an end.”

“And you were not drowned after all?” queried Annie, with a spice of mischief in her voice.

“No, we were not drowned after all—but, look there, how excited all those people seem to be.”

Mr. Cory and his daughter followed the direction of Mrs. Colbrook’s eyes, and saw that quite a crowd of people were gathering on the starboard bow, whence some object of interest ahead seemed to be engaging their attention. Our friends soon became members of the curious crowd, and were saddened by the spectacle pointed out to them. It was the battered and mastless hull of a derelict ship, floating on the now smooth waters, and presenting mute evidence of their whilom relentless fury. [A]

[ [A] It may be argued by seafarers that the Bay of Biscay is out of the track of derelicts. This supposition is, upon the whole, correct. But there are exceptions to every rule, and at the time of writing there is marked in charts a derelict off Lisbon.—The Author.

Glasses were hurriedly brought into use, and countless conjectures as to the name, nationality, and experiences of the wreck were hazarded. Not a sign of life was perceptible on its deck, and it was all too evident that the crew no longer found a home in it. As to their fate, who could say what it had been? Perhaps they had been saved by some passing vessel. Perhaps they had been swept into the seething and roaring waters, their last shrieks rendered inaudible by the war of the elements. Perhaps, imagining their battered ship to be sinking, they had succeeded in taking to the boats, and might be even now floating on this billowy waste, with the pangs of hunger and thirst gnawing at their vitals, and with “water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.” Perhaps—but why lose oneself in endless painful conjectures, since a solution of the questions that puzzle us is out of our power to arrive at?

To Mr. Cory and Annie the sight was especially painful, for it brought vividly to their minds poor Hilton’s fate, and they could not help picturing the last scene of his life as an awful one. This only strengthened their determination to avenge his untimely end, and the sad conjectures with which the fast approaching wreck was greeted were mingled with a feeling of bitterness at the misery and suffering which were permitted to run riot upon the earth.

“No,” said Annie, after a lengthened pause in the conversation, during which she seemed to have divined her father’s thoughts; “we mustn’t lose faith, after all. Please God, all will come right yet. Those scoundrels will be brought to book, and Harley will be proved innocent. Then we shall all be happy again.”

“Meanwhile, though, Harley is suffering untold misery; Mrs. Riddell seems to be fretting herself into her grave; Hilton has met with a violent end; and Providence seems to be doing its best to help the cause of villainy.”