University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.
The Wrecker's Lugger.

Leaving the two inhabitants of the cavern hurrying
towards it in their little boat, after the light had been
kindled upon the summit of the Tower-Rock, we shall
now change the scene to the deck of the shallop, two
hours later. By this time the tempest had burst upon
the sea and islands in its strength, whitening the wild
surface of the waters as if snow were drifting over
them. The shallop was about twelve miles to the
south of the island and laying to, for the wind was too
high and the waves too terrific to run. The seas made
a breach over her as she lay, but being light she rode
them with buoyancy, though each moment threatened
to be engulfed.

At the helm stood Ingles. It was lashed, but nevertheless
he stood by it from habit, his grasp upon the
head of the carved tiller. It was a fearful sight. The
howl of the wind through the skies, and its terrific
roar, as it lifted the black waters and bore them upon
its wings, would have appalled one less accustomed to
such scenes. The wrecker stood grasping the helm
with one hand and holding to the bulwarks of his little
vessel with the other, and with a stern composure
waited the passage of the hurricane. His men were
forward clinging to the stays of the fore-mast, on which
was spread the close-reefed fore-sail, which kept them

to the wind. The only light thrown upon this fearful
scene was from the phosphorescent glare of the foaming
waves that heaved and tumbled and broke in shining
masses around them. Darkness was upon the face of
the deep, and the elements seemed rushing back into
original chaos.

The eye of the wrecker was often directed from the
care of his vessel to windward, as if looking earnestly
for some object. Then an expression of defiance would
pass across his features, which shone white and ghostlike
as they caught the baleful glare from the phosphorescent
sea; he would murmur some words indistinctly,
and then give his attention in-board to his vessel,
the momentary expression passing away and changing
to one of seaman-like anxiety for the shallop's safety.

`See to the fore-sheet, that it is well belayed!' he
suddenly cried, in a voice above the tempest. `The
sail labors hard, and if any thing gives way we do n't
see `The-Hole-in-the-Wall' again, any of us! The
storm has n't yet got all her pipes in her teeth!'

`All safe, sir,' answered one of the men in Spanish,
for the wrecker had used this tongue, though with a
slight accent, that indicated it was not native to him.
`Do you know where we are now, Capitan?'

`About three and a half or four leagues from the
Island. But since this storm came up I cannot tell
where we are, exactly. We must lay to till it blows
over us. The boat rides well, and has need to; for
this is a gale that a larger and better craft might go
down under.'

`Where do you think the schooner is by this time?'

`At the bottom of the channel, I hope!' answered the

wrecker, with emphasis. `They can't be so well acquainted
with these waters as I am, and yet we have
been nearly lost to-night till we hove her to. Rocks
and reefs around her, and not twenty feet under her
keel, she stands a fair chance of faring as I hope she
may!'

`It was a hard chase we have had, sir,' said the Spaniard,
who had taken Vique's office in the craft; `and if it
had not been for this gale we might have had warm work
of it. When it came on she was within three miles of
us.' And the man, as he finished speaking, came aft,
pulling himself along the decks by the aid of the
bulwarks; for the deck was as steep as a roof, and
each moment a cataract from a broken wave poured
over her from taffrail to bowsprit.

`There is no doubt we should have been overhauled,
Publo, but before they should have come alongside
they should have sunk the shallop with their shot!'
The words of the wrecker, as he spoke, were not more
expressive of determination than his countenance.

`Do you think they have any idea who we are,
Capitan?'

`They know very well. They have one on board
them, or else are sent by one who knows that I am in
the shallop. But let him heed himself. If I ride out
this storm safely, there may yet be power in my hands
for evil, as there has been.'

`What do you mean, Capitan?' asked the Spaniard,
wonderingly.

`It matters not what I mean! attend to the shallop.
Look out up the rigging for the light! With this tide
and wind we must be drifting fast.'

The man threw himself into the rigging, and, clinging
to it with his hands and feet, had ascended but a little
way before a wave caught him upon its crest, and
wresting him from his grasp bore him, shrieking with
despair, high over the vessel's deck, and whelming him
far to leeward in the wild vortex of the mad seas.
The wrecker gave utterance to a fearful curse, as he
saw the man borne away beyond hope of rescue. The
next wave tore the fore-sail from its booms and hoops,
and swept the deck, pouring over the vessel in a deep
cascade, a roaring waterfall of many feet, and for a
moment only the masts and the head of the skipper
and one of his men was above the surface. The shallop,
however, after a desperate struggle, threw off the
vast weight of water, and rose buoyant above the
surge, only to encounter another equally gigantic.

`She can't stand this, crank as she is,' said Ingles,
seriously, as he shook the salt spray from his face and
gray locks. `I have but a single man left; for this
last sea has taken that lubberly Pedro!'

`What shall we do, Capitan?' cried the sole remaining
man, creeping aft and clinging with fear to the tiller.'

`Die, if we must!' he answered, with savage gloom.
`But thou mayst follow after thy companions, and
perish; but I shall not die! O, no! I have too much
unfinished work yet in the world. It is not to be my
fate to die now! By and by, but not now!'

`We are sure to be lost, Capitan!'

`No, Juan, no! I fear not. If thou wouldst live,
cling closely, and bind thy body to the main-mast.'

`No, no! if the shallop should founder!'

`Then take what care you can of yourself.'

`Where are we now?'

`Ask the wind or the waves! I know not. Dost
thou not know that the waves have long since put out
the binnacle light, and my compass is no better than a
piece of white paper? I know not south from north,
save that I guess it from the course of the wind. But
I am content,' he added, with an exulting laugh; `I
am content, Juan, so that the infernal schooner has
the same!'

`And do you think she fares as bad as we have?'

`She will be at the bottom before dawn to-morrow,
if this gale blows on in this way.'

`And so shall we, Jesu Maria!'

`No; keep thy tears and prayers! I tell thee I shall
not die!'

`Then I will cling to thee, Capitan;' cried the man,
terrified by the fate of his shipmates, and the roar of
the tempest, which seemed each instant to increase in
fury; and, as if catching a sort of hope from the reckless
words of the wrecker, he embraced his knee, and
clung to him with the energy of a man who would
strive to resist fate.

`Ah, poor Juan, you will die, too, in spite of your
fears and clinging grasp,' he said, smiling at the man's
terror. `We are now driving, God knows where!
before the tornado; for now our fore-sail is blown out
of its hoops we have nothing to steady her by, and
must let her drive! When the gale first struck us we
were then running in the windward gap, to creep to
windward of the schooner, for I knew she would
hardly risk following us in, without a pilot, which she
can't have on board, I think. We were about five
leagues from Abaco then, and running N. N. E. We

ran about a league in the gale before we lay to, and
we have been laying to more than an hour and a half.'

`And all this time we have been drifting!'

`Yes; both with wind and tide. It is my opinion
we are not many miles off from the Island!'

`O, Señor, that we were there! There is a high
wave rolling along astern after us! It will destroy us!'

`Hist thy noise, hombre! 'T is worse than the wail
of the storm. Do you not see how the shallop rises
upon it, as it stoops under the stern and lifts her up as
you would lift an infant, and tosses her onward!'

`We shall soon drive on the rocks, and then there
will be no escape!'

`I can do nothing! The hurricane holds us in its fist,
and we must await our destiny. Didst thou feel, Juan,
the joy I feel, to know that the schooner is in peril as
well as we, and that perchance there is one on board
of her who will perish with her, if she perish, as
surely she will this night, unless that boy carries a
charmed life, as I think he must, for many is the
death,' added Ingles, muttering to himself, `that I
have laid in his path, and yet he lives.'

`Who is it, Capitan, you speak of?'

`Get to thy feet, man, and look this way with me!'
cried the wrecker, suddenly. `What is it thou seest?
Is it not a vessel, almost within call?'

`It is a spectre ship, Señor! The Holy Mother save
us now, for our death is sure.'

`Fool! 't is the glare of the sea that throws this
strange light upon her! It is a vessel, and it is the
schooner! But she is to leeward. It must be another
vessel!'

`I see her, but I cannot see how many masts she has.
The schooner should be to windward.'

`My eyes are not blind! Dark as it is, I see plainly
she is a schooner. She may have carried sail longer
than we did and so over-run us. She is now laying
to, and as dead ahead as she can lie, and not a cable's
length off!'

`We shall go into her, Capitan!'

`No! your knife, quick, to cut the lashings of the
tiller, for I can steer her clear, if the devil help me!'

A schooner was now seen but a little distance ahead,
lying to under a close-reefed fore-sail and jib. Although
the skies and sea around the low horizon
were pitchy black, yet the outlines of near objects were
visible by the light of the breaking waves, as we have
before observed; a light peculiar to the sea in low
latitudes, of a most extraordinary nature, and of which
no description will convey any adequate idea. It
must be seen. Instead of light it is the ghost of it!
It was by its unearthly glare that the schooner was
apparent to their vision.

The shallop, driven before the wind, upon the top of
the waves, without an inch of canvass, was bearing
down directly upon the schooner's beam. The wrecker
had cut the lashings of the hitherto neglected helm,
and taken it in his grasp. With an eye fixed upon the
schooner, he coolly undertook to save his vessel from
instant destruction. If he could have sunk the schooner
at the same time with his own craft, he would doubtless
have let her run aboard, head on, as she was driving;
but the weight of the shallop was not sufficient to
insure certain destruction, and less than that he was
not the man likely to attempt.

The shallop was now seen on board the schooner,
and instantly the voices of alarm and warning reached
the wrecker's ears, as he stood in the stern of his little
vessel, guiding her with all his skill and strength, aided
in the latter by Juan. He smiled, as he heard the
confusion.

`Now starboard a little, Juan.'

`Starboard, señor!'

`Steady, Juan!'

`Steady!'

`Starboard hard!' he shouted, in a voice that rung
on the winds; and they threw themselves bodily upon
the tiller to press it hard up to the windward.

`Starboard for your life!' called out Forrestal, from
the deck of the schooner through his trumpet, and
echoing his cry were heard a score of voices throughout
the vessel.

The next moment the shallop shot by upon a huge
wave directly under the bows of the schooner, the
bowsprit of the latter catching each of her masts, one
after the other, and sweeping them from her deck as
she flew by, scarce checking her in her fearful speed.

At the same moment, Ingles, swept off by the masts,
found himself in the sea, clinging to the davit of his
vessel with one hand, his other arm hanging broken at
his side. With a vast effort, he raised himself to his
deck, the dismasted vessel still driving on like an arrow
upon the waves and winds. On looking around he
found himself alone. Poor Juan had perished. He
smiled with a feeling of stern, almost savage exultation,
as he realized that he was the only one who had
survived the tempest and the wreck; and he felt as if
he could believe in the truth of his own recklessly

uttered words, that, as yet, his destiny on earth was not
sealed!

Behind him was the schooner, fading spectre-like, in
the mists of the night, and on the storm was borne
to his ears loud words in fierce denunciations, that he
answered with a loud laugh, that mingled strangely
with the shrieking of the gale.

The shallop had hove in sight, borne down upon,
and plunged under the schooner's bows all so in a
moment, that Forrestal saw her flying dismasted to
leeward, with her commander standing alone upon her
deck, before he could realize the whole that passed.
He had run forward, after echoing the wrecker's own
order to put his helm hard up, but only to see him dash
by, leaving ruin behind; for the bowsprit, which had
swept the lugger's mast by the board, broke off short
at the foot, and fell into the sea amid the ruin it had
caused. The schooner lost her power with the loss of
the jib, to lay to so well, and began instantly to roll
and pitch as if she would pitch her long slender masts
out of her, for they bent with the elasticity of steel rods
at every plunge of her bows under.

Forrestal stood a moment upon the windlass, supporting
himself by his hand on the bitt, looking after
the shallop, which was not in sight to his eyes a minute
and a half after she had gone past. Suddenly, he
felt a hand upon his arm.

`Well, Harry!'

`It was the shallop! I saw him! for I had hold of
the foot of the jib when she went by. I saw him! You
will not let him escape!' were the earnest words of
Carneil, amid the confused and angry cries of the men.

`Yes, it was some wreckers, Harry; but it may not
have been the chase. It was too dark to distinguish
any one.'

`No, no! not to distinguish him! Besides, I heard
his voice! Listen! I hear it now!'

`It is the laugh of a demon! I will have him, Harry,
if it be our man, as I suspected when I saw him
coming down, though I expected he would have been
ahead.'

`Shall I give the order to make sail?'

`Yes, Harry, for we cant well lay to without our jib.
Let her drive! He has no canvass, and we will not be
long behind him. I know pretty well where we are,
and that the channel is free ahead. All hands to unloose
the main-sail and set her close-reefed, and ease
off the fore brace. We must let the schooner take it
wing and wing and drive!'

The orders were obeyed with alacrity; for the shallop
had for the last two days given the schooner a great
deal of trouble, by dodging and running among keys,
and taking advantage of other means of escaping,
rendered efficient by the perfect knowledge Ingles had
of the Bahama Banks, over which the chase had been
followed. The crew were, therefore, glad of any
chance of getting him into their power.

The schooner now went bowling along over the
huge white-capped waves with appalling velocity; and
as she was hurled onward from sea to sea, she rolled
in every shell of the billows, so that her top-sail yard
dipped at every swing of her masts to this side and
that, and the sea was almost constantly waist deep in-board.

`If she goes bodily under at every swoop, Harry, I
promise you I will stand on so long as a spar holds,
or she can swim!'

`Thank you, Mr. Forrestal,' answered Harry, who
stood by his side on the quarter-deck, both keeping
their feet by holding to the binnacle, — for no man
could stand upon deck unsustained. The bows were
under water constantly, and the men had all been called
aft as far as the capstan, for the forecastle was
swimming. `Thanks, for your kindness, good Forrestal,'
continued Harry, insensible of the great danger
around him, in his anxiety to capture the shallop;
and Forrestal, for love of him, and almost as deeply
interested as himself in getting the man into his power,
looking upon the storm only in the light of a
more welcome means of putting the wrecker into his
hands.

`He cant be far ahead now, Harry! We must go
twice as fast as he does, scudding with our sails, and
he without a spar. The only fear I have is, that he
may go to the bottom!'

`Oh, no, I hope not! If he is lost to-night, all is
lost! Heaven preserve him!'

`Amen! this is praying in earnest for our enemies,
Harry! Keep him from drowning, that he may be
hanged, is my prayer! Keep a sharp look there about
the gangways. We can see ahead without being on
the bows, now we have no bowsprit, Harry. See! it
is breaking in this direction! It is to the northwest. It
blows yet as hard as ever, but we shall have an end of
this before midnight. What do you see?'

`I thought I saw the shallop, but it was only a black
wave lifting itself ahead.'

`The billows are growing longer and higher, and
that is a sign we are shoaling our water. Heave the
lead!' he shouted. `You need not go forward with it
into the fore-chains, or you will be washed overboard!
besides, you cant stand it. Heave at the gangway,
with plenty of slack!'

`Seven fathom!' answered the man, in a quick tone
of surprise and alarm.

`Sound again!'

`Six fathom!'

At this moment, a ground-swell billow, twenty feet
in height, and of inky blackness, with an edge of bluish
light, came majestically swelling after them. Seeing
its approach, Forrestal called out,

`Harry, hold on to me! Every man throw himself
flat upon the deck!'

The mountainous wave, with a velocity that outstripped
that of the winged vessel, hung an instant
above the stern, like a beetling cliff, and then tumbled
with a sliding motion in upon the quarter-deck, and
rolled roaring towards the bows. A second and then
a third followed it, and the vessel, for full a minute,
lay dead under the burden; but rolling, she emptied
her decks of most of it and recovered herself from the
shock, and went driving onward again, as before. Forrestal
sprung to his feet, and Harry with him, to behold
a scene of ruin. The binnacle, with their only compass,
and the man at the wheel, had been swept overboard,
and a dozen of his crew, out of fifty men, were

struggling in the surges far astern. The companion-way,
the caboose, and every thing not a part of the
firm hull, had been swept over, and three of the guns
had broke from their lashings and were driving from
one side of the deck to the other, at every roll of the
vessel. Forrestal had hardly time to contemplate the
wreck, or lament the poor fellows lost, ere Harry, who
had but one thought and one object for his eyes, cried
out, in thrilling tones,

`The lugger! the lugger, Forrestal!'

`Where?' he cried with animation, forgetting all
else.

`Dead ahead!'

`I see, and I will ride right over her and sink her!'

`No! He must be saved!' cried Harry.

`True! Then I will lay along and leap on board!
How is the lead?' he asked, anxiously, `for we may
be ashore in three minutes!'

`Eight and a half!'

`We are safe awhile, then!' he answered with energy.
`I will take the helm now myself, for your man
shall be ours, Harry!'