Jackman, who was a great theorist, here propounded a reason for this.
“If vessels would only hold straight on their courses, you see,” he said, “the accident of collision would be exceedingly rare, for, although thousands of ships might pass near to each other, not one in ten thousand would meet; but when vessels come pretty near, their commanders sometimes become anxious, take fancies into their heads, as to each having forgotten the ‘rules of the road,’ and each attempting to correct the other—as we do sometimes in the streets—they bring about the very disaster they are trying to avoid.”
“Had we not better ring the bell, Captain?” cried Mabberly, in rising excitement.
“Oo ay, if you think so, sir. Ring, poy!”
The boy, who was getting alarmed, seized the tongue of the ship’s bell, and rang with all his might. Whether this had the effect to which Jackman had referred, we cannot tell, but next moment what appeared to be a mountain loomed out of the mist. The steam-whistle had been silent for some time, but as soon as the bell was heard it burst forth with increased fury. From the instant her form was dimly seen the fate of the yacht was sealed. There was a wild shouting on board the steamer, but there was no time for action.
“Starboard hard!” was the cry.
“Starboard it is!” was the immediate answer. But before the helm could act, the great rushing mass struck the Fairy amidships, and literally cut her in two!
The awful suddenness of a catastrophe, which those on board had just been arguing was all but impossible, seemed to have paralysed every one, for no one made the slightest effort to escape. Perhaps the appearance of the wall-like bow of the steamer, without rope or projection of any kind to lay hold of, or jump at, might have conveyed the swift perception that their case was hopeless. At all events, they all went under with the doomed yacht, and nothing was left in the wake of the leviathan but a track of foam on the mist-encumbered sea.
But they were not lost! One after another the wrecked party rose struggling to the surface, and all of them could swim except the boy.
Giles Jackman was the first who rose. Treading water and brushing the hair out of his eyes, he gazed wildly about. Barret came up close beside him, almost a moment later. He had barely taken breath, when the others rose at various distances. A cry not far from him caused him to turn. It was poor Robin Tips, struggling for life. A few powerful strokes carried Barret alongside. He got behind the boy, caught him under the armpits, and thus held him, at arm’s length, until he could quiet him.