Jack was right, with regard to the relative speed of the two vessels, at all events. As I kept my eye on the brig, I could not but acknowledge that we were slowly but surely increasing our distance from her. This put the captain in good humour.
“Ah! my young friend,” he said, tapping me on the shoulder, “you have escaped the sharks this time, I believe.” At night I turned in and went to sleep, for I had not yet recovered from my want of rest and unusual anxiety. The next morning, there, however, was the brig, right astern of us, though we had much increased our distance from her. When I appeared, the captain gave me no friendly look; and it was only towards the evening, when we had brought her topsails beneath the horizon, that his good humour was re-established. Another night passed, and the brig was out of sight. I thought it more than probable, however, that Captain Idle was still following, in the hopes of finding us becalmed, or in some other way falling in with us. I cannot stop to describe the scenes of gambling and fighting continually going on among the schooner’s lawless crew, though their outbreaks of fury were generally repressed, before arriving at extremities, by the energy of the little captain. We got on tolerably well with them. Jack danced his hornpipe, I sang, and the other two men made themselves generally useful. I, therefore, no longer had any great fears about our present safety.
A dreadful doom was, however, prepared for most on board. One night I was awoke by a terrific noise, and, rushing on deck, I found that one of those fierce hurricanes which occur at times in the tropics had just commenced. Amid a mass of spoondrift the schooner drove helplessly before it. The night was dark as pitch, except when vivid flashes of forked lightning darted from the clouds and shed a bright blue glare on our decks, exhibiting a scene of horror and confusion seldom surpassed. The seamen ran to and fro shrieking with terror, calling on their saints to help them, and vowing candles and other offerings at their shrines, the fiercest and most quarrelsome generally showing the most abject fear. The little captain, to do him justice, kept his presence of mind, and endeavoured to restore order, but he had lost all control over his crew. Jack found his way aft to where I was standing, and I was truly glad to have him near me.
“It’s to be hoped there’s no land under our lee, or it will fare ill with us,” said he. “But I’m not quite certain. Just now, when there was a bright flash of lightning, I thought I saw something very like it right ahead of us. We must be ready for the worst, I’m thinking, Mr D’Arcy.”
I felt this to be the case, and prayed earnestly to God to stretch forth His hand to save us. Scarcely a minute had elapsed after Jack had spoken, when the tempest, thundering down on the accursed slave ship more violently than before, the lightning flashing more vividly, a terrific shock was felt, which made her tremble as if about to part asunder; the tall masts bent like willow wands, and fell with a crash into the sea; and the voracious waves came curling up, foam-crested, astern, and sweeping everything before them. The howling of the fierce hurricane overpowered the agonised shrieks of the drowning crew, as they were carried overboard; while from the hold arose the heart-piercing cries of despair and terror of the helpless negroes who were confined there, deprived of even a chance of escape. Our two shipmates had found their way aft, to where Jack and I were holding on for our lives, sheltered partly by the raised poop. Still we drove on. We had evidently been forced over a reef, and we hoped that we might reach smooth water. The sea no longer broke over us.
“What say you, lads? Let’s try to give those poor fellows down there a chance for their lives,” cried Jack.
All agreed to the proposal. There were scarcely any Spaniards left to stop us; and had there been, I do not think they would have ventured to interfere. I had observed some axes hung up inside the cabin-door, and seizing them, we tore off the hatches, and leaped down among the terror-stricken wretches below. Sandy had bethought him of securing some lanterns, for in the dark we could do nothing. As soon as he had brought them, and we had got them lighted, Jack singing out, “Amigos!—amigos!—have no fear, my hearties!” we set to work with a right good will, and knocked the fetters off a considerable number of the unfortunate negroes. The operation was nearly completed, when we felt another terrific shock vibrate through the ship. Again and again she struck. We had just time to spring up the main-hatchway, followed by the howling terrified blacks, when the sides of the ship seemed to yawn asunder; a foaming wave rushed towards us, and at the same moment a vivid flash of lightning showed us the shore, not a hundred yards off.
“There’s hope yet,” I heard Jack exclaim.
There is, after that, a wild confusion in my mind of shrieks and groans; of foaming, tossing waters; of pieces of plank driven to and fro; of arms outstretched; of despairing countenances, some pale or livid, some of ebon hue, lighted up ever and anon by a flash of lightning. I was clinging, I found, to a small piece of timber torn from the wreck. Now I was driven near the sands; now carried out to sea; tossed about on the tops of the foaming waves, rolled over and over, and almost drowned with the spray. Still I held on convulsively, half conscious only of my awful position. It seemed rather like some dreadful dream than a palpable reality. How long I had been tossing about in this way, I knew not. Daylight had been stealing on even before the final catastrophe had occurred. At length I know that I felt myself carried near the sands, and while I was trying to secure a footing, some black figures rushed into the water and dragged me on shore. My preservers were, I discovered, some of the negroes who had escaped from the wreck. I was too much exhausted to stand; so they carried me up out of the reach of the waves, and laid me on the sands, while they returned once more to the edge of the water. Their object was evident. By the increasing light I saw several figures clinging to the rocks, against which I concluded the vessel had struck. Full twenty negroes were on the beach, which was strewed with bits of plank and spars, and coils of rope, and other portions of the wreck. Presently I saw four or five of them plunge into the water together, holding the end of a rope. They struck out bravely, and though more than once driven back, they still made way, till they reached the rock, up which they clambered. The people on the rock helped them out of the water. There were several negroes, a few of whom were women, and three white men. One of the white men held a black infant in his arms, and as the light increased, I recognised my friend Jack Stretcher. “Just like the gallant fellow!” thought I. At that dreadful moment, when most people would have been thinking only of their own preservation, he looked out for the most helpless being, that he might try and save it, even at the risk of his own life. I hope the mother of the infant has escaped to thank him; but, at all events, he will have his reward. The other two men were my shipmates. Of the slaver’s crew, not a man had escaped. After this I remember nothing; for, from exhaustion, consequent on the blows I had received in the water, I fainted. I had a dreamy notion of being lifted up and carried along some distance, and of the hot sun scorching me; and then of entering the cool shade of a house, and of hearing a voice which I fancied I recollected, and thought very sweet, say, “Why, papa, it’s that little officer again. Poor, poor fellow! how ill and wretched he looks!” I tried to open my eyes to look at the speaker, but had no strength left to lift even my eyelids. How long I had remained in a state of unconsciousness I could not tell, though I afterwards found it was some weeks. The next time I recollect opening my eyes, they rested on the features of Miss Alice Marlow, and by her side was a young man in a lieutenant’s uniform while at the foot of my couch stood Jack Stretcher. “Where am I? How’s all this?” I asked, in a faint voice.
“You are in Mr Marlow’s house, in the island of Barbadoes,” said the young officer. “As to the rest, it’s a long yarn, and we’ll spin it another time.”