The mizzen-royal, which had been sent down at nightfall, remained on deck, and the mate had lowered it on to their first raft. The framework having been formed, he once more sprang up on deck.
“You remain, Walter; I will be back in a moment,” he sang out.
Walter was very anxious while he was gone, for he had not forgotten what Mr Shobbrok had said about the magazine. He soon heard him crying out,—“Take hold of this, and see it does not capsize.” Looking up, he found that a basket was being lowered. He placed it on the most secure part of the raft. Directly afterwards Mr Shobbrok lowered down a hammer and a large bag of nails.
“I must see what more can be got,” he cried out. Directly afterwards he sprang over the side and descended rapidly on to the raft.
“Shove off, my boy, shove off! there’s not an instant to be lost!” he exclaimed; and he and Walter, seizing the oars, pulled away on their former raft, towing the one they had just formed after them. As it floated lightly, they managed to make fair way, though by this time the sea had somewhat increased, the wind having suddenly got up. They had not got more than two cables length from the ship when a loud roar announced that the magazine had exploded; the foremast and mainmast, which had hitherto stood, fell over the side, while the mizzen-mast shot up into the air. They narrowly escaped from some of the smaller pieces of the burnt fragments of the ship, which came down on the raft.
“There goes the Champion,” cried Mr Shobbrok. “It’s a sad ending; but sadder for those will it be who come to look for her, and find only a blackened wreck floating on the water.”
As he spoke, the stern of the ship lifted out of the water, while the burning bows dipping beneath the surface, she gradually descended into the depths of the ocean, and ere a minute was over, had disappeared from sight.
“We may be thankful that we got away in time,” sighed the old mate. “Well, well, I thought we should have got home safely in her; but it was God’s will. We must trust to Him, and not despair, whatever happens.”
“I try to do so,” said Walter; “but I wish I knew what had become of dear Alice and our father. If he has not yet visited the ship, it will well-nigh break his heart when he does come back, to find her gone. He will think we are all lost.”
“If he has not visited the ship, he will not be certain whether she has gone down,—though, to be sure, that would be almost as bad; for he will suppose that the scoundrel of a boatswain and the French prisoners have got possession of her and made off,—knowing to a certainty that we should never have left the spot till he had returned,” answered the mate.