The Three Admirals

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Day dawned, and the Cornish land appeared stretching along from north to south, and much nearer than had been supposed. Breakers were seen dashing over the dangerous rocks of the Manacles, close under their lee. Just then a heavy squall struck the yacht; over she heeled, and the water rushed half up her deck, pouring in through crevices which had hitherto not been discovered. To keep her away was impossible. By luffing up she ran the risk of getting into the wind. To shorten sail would have been equally hazardous. She must stand on at all risks. The yacht flew through the water, plunging into the seas like a being struggling for life. Falmouth Harbour appeared directly ahead, with Saint Anthony’s light-house on the east side of the entrance. In a short time the vessel would be safe. She shot by close to the buoy of the Manacles. Murray knew that it was placed some distance outside the rocks. He drew his breath when he saw it astern; still no one looking at him would have suspected the anxiety which had weighed on his heart.

By keeping the pumps going the water did not gain sufficiently to cause much alarm, but the Stella had already more in her hold than was pleasant, and her stores, at all events, were likely to suffer. Murray was infinitely relieved when he was able to let go the anchor, and the yacht rode safely in the beautiful harbour of Falmouth, among numerous other craft, of various rig and size. The vessel once at rest, the water was soon pumped out, and, breakfast over, Murray and Adair went on shore to obtain a carpenter capable of thoroughly repairing the damages the vessel had received, as also to ascertain whether she had received any injury below water. Meantime Ben was engaged in mending the mainsail.

The ladies did not feel disposed to go on shore. They were, fortunately, not fully aware of the danger in which the yacht had been placed, and had as much confidence in her as ever. The carpenter and his assistants set to work without delay, and, wonderful to relate, undertook to have all damages repaired by the following day. A doctor was also sent for to attend to poor Dick Stokes, who had remained senseless since he was taken below. After some treatment, however, he recovered sufficiently to speak and to give an account of what he recollected from the moment he saw the stranger gliding stem on towards the Stella’s beam.

“She seemed to be coming just as it were out of a fog, like a big ice mountain, and I thought it was all over with us,” he said. “I’d just time to put the helm down, hoping to scrape clear of her, when I heard a crash and saw her bowsprit come sweeping along over our deck, tearing away the luff of the mainsail and knocking the port quarter-boat to pieces. I thought I saw some one hanging on to her bobstay, and the next moment that or something else struck me on the head and shoulders, and I thought I was going overboard. It seemed as if I heard a cry, but whether it was my own shout or some one else’s is more than I can tell. You see, sir, it was so dark I could not make out anything more, so whether it was really a man I caught sight of or not I cannot tell. To my mind, where the schooner was struck, she bounded off from the ship, or we should have been sent to the bottom. That she was a sailing ship and not a steamer I am pretty certain, for I had time to see her canvas rising up above us.”

Dick’s statement, as far as the appearance of the ship was concerned, was corroborated by the rest of the crew, but so dark was it that only two had actually seen her before she was again clear of the schooner and running past astern. Dick’s statement slightly raised the hopes of Adair and his friends, that Lord Saint Maur might have escaped, but why, if he had got safely on board the ship, she did not heave to to allow the yacht to speak with her was surprising. The only supposition was that she was a foreigner, and that he could not make himself understood, or that the officer of the watch, supposing that the schooner had sunk, was afraid to heave to lest he might be made answerable for the catastrophe.

Such utter disregard for human life had before been exhibited on more than one occasion, and this might be another instance. However, conjectures were useless. If Saint Maur had been saved they would hear of him again. He would either get on board a homeward-bound vessel, or land at the first port at which the ship touched. The sad subject was discussed over and over again.

“I cannot believe that Lord Saint Maur is dead,” said Miss Julia Rogers, Jack’s eldest daughter—who had looked the picture of woe since the accident, although she had said nothing—when she heard Dick’s statement. “He was telling me of the numerous dangers he and Tom had been in, and how they had got out of them all, and I don’t see why he should not have escaped from this one. Dick Stokes thinks he saw a human being clinging on to the bowsprit rigging, and that must have been Lord Saint Maur, and he being a sailor could easily have climbed up and got on board. I have been picturing to myself his doing so, and how astonished the sailors must have been when they saw him, though it was very, very cruel of them not to heave to and wait for us to receive him back again.”

Stella smiled sadly at young Julia’s remark. Murray was not so sanguine as his friends. He suspected that Dick had been nodding at the helm, and that had he had his eyes open, he would at all events have given the alarm before the stranger had struck the yacht. The latter, it should have been said, was sailing on a course diagonal to the ship, or she would have been more severely damaged.

The bad weather being over, the Stella once more sailed for the Isle of Wight. Adair had written to Counsellor McMahon an account of the accident. He had posted the letter before Dick had come to his senses, and he then expressed no hopes that his nephew had escaped. As the winds were light, the Stella was three days getting up the Channel, and it was not till late at night that she brought up off Ryde. The party, therefore, did not go on shore until the following morning. His aunt and young cousins were deeply grieved at hearing of Desmond’s possible fate.

“It will be a sad blow for Tom and Archie when they hear of it,” observed Jack to Adair. “They have as great an affection for him as we three had for each other.”