“On deck! on deck!” they both shouted; but as they made for the companion-ladder, they were driven back by a tremendous rush of water: the lights were extinguished, and they were left in total darkness. Paul had scarcely recovered his senses, and neither he nor True Blue could find their way to the companion-ladder.
The water continued rushing furiously into the cabin, and one thing only was certain, that the schooner had upset. How the accident had happened, it was difficult to say; in all probability, too, she was sinking. The cabin was now more than three-quarters full of water, and the only places where they could escape being instantly drowned were in the berths on the starboard side. In vain they shouted to their friends on deck to come and help them out of the cabin. No one answered to their cries.
“They are all gone, I fear,” said Paul. “It’s the fate of many brave seamen; it will be more than likely our fate before many minutes are over. Still, godson, as I have always told you, it’s our duty to struggle for life to the last, like men; so climb up into these starboard berths. We shall be free of the water there for a little time longer.”
True Blue followed Paul’s advice; and there they clung, while the water rose higher and higher. It got up to their waists, then up to their armpits, and by degrees it almost covered their shoulders, though their heads were pressed against the starboard side of the vessel, which lay on her larboard beam-ends. Both were silent; they could not but expect that their last moments were come, and that the vessel must shortly go down.
Time passed on. The water did not further increase; but they felt almost suffocated, and, indeed, the only air they breathed found its way through the seams in the deck above their heads. There they hung, in total darkness: the roar and rush of waters above their heads; the air so close and oppressive that they could scarcely draw breath or find strength to hold themselves in the only position in which they could prolong their lives, while they had the saddest apprehensions for the fate of their companions, as they could scarcely hope, even should they succeed in regaining the deck, that they would find any of them alive.
Hour after hour passed away, when suddenly the vessel righted with a violent jerk, which sent them out of their berths into the centre cabin, where they found themselves swimming and floundering about, sometimes with their heads under water, sometimes above it, among boxes, and bales, and furniture, and articles of all sorts.
They were now fully aroused. True Blue exerted himself to help Paul, who, wounded as he had been, and now sore and bruised, was less able than usual to endure the hardships he was undergoing.
They were still in total darkness, and had to speak to let each other know where they were. True Blue had worked his way close to the companion hatch, and thought that Paul was following. He spoke, but there was no answer. His heart sank within him. He swam and waded back, feeling about in every direction with frantic eagerness.
“Paul Pringle—godfather—where are you?” he shouted.
Suddenly he felt an arm; it was Paul’s. He lifted him up, and, with a strength few could have exerted, dragged him under the companion hatch. The ladder had been unshipped; but True Blue having righted it, dragged Paul up a few steps, where, in a short time recovering his breath, and Paul regaining his consciousness, they together made an effort to reach the deck.