“Well, well, Auger, keep up your spirits, man,” observed Mr Grummit, the boatswain, to his brother warrant officer; “the masts are standing, and in spite of the gale the spars are uninjured, and you may manage, after all, to copper up the old barkie to get her out of this.”
“Ah, that’s just like the way of the world, Grummit,” said Trunnion. “As long as your masts are standing, you don’t care how much harm happens to the hull under Auger’s charge; and while the hull was undamaged, Auger didn’t care for my guns; but just let’s see your masts going over the side, and we should have you singing out as loudly as any one—that we should, I know; and just you look out, they’ll be going before long.”
The indignant gunner turned away. It seemed very probable that his prognostications would prove true, for already in all directions the gallant ship cracked and groaned as the ice pressed in from every quarter on her stout timbers.
Paul met Devereux, and asked him what he thought was going to happen.
“One of two things, my dear Gerrard,” answered the young lieutenant; “we must either try to get on shore, or we must be ready to go down with the ship, should the wind drift her out of her present position. I know that you will be prepared for whatever we are called to encounter; but whatever occurs, keep near me. I shall not be happy if we are separated.”
As Paul was in Devereux’s watch, this he could easily promise to do. Hour after hour wore on. The cold increased. The weather gave no signs of mending. Death, in a form, though not the most terrible, yet calculated to produce intense suffering, stared them in the face. The men looked at each other, and asked what was next to happen. The captain and most of his officers, and the ambassador, were in consultation in the cabin. Many of the men believed that the ship herself could not much longer resist the violent pressure to which she was exposed, and expected every instant that her sides would be crushed together.
The calmest, as usual, was old Croxton, who had been actively going about his duty without making any demonstration.
“Lads, just listen to me,” he observed. “Some of you are proposing one thing, and some another; but let me advise you to go on steadily doing your duty, smartly obeying our officers, and leaving all the rest in the hands of Providence. It is the business of the officers to plan and command, and, depend on it, they’ll order us to do what they believe to be best.”
A few minutes afterwards the drum beat for divisions, and as soon as the men were mustered, the captain addressed them, and told them that, at the desire of the ambassador, it had been resolved to abandon the ship.
“At the same time, my lads, you will remember that while she holds together, you still belong to her,” he added. “While, for your own sakes, you will maintain that strict discipline which has done you so much credit ever since I have had the satisfaction of commanding you.”