The days passed more rapidly than Mabel had any idea they would, and a delightful time they had, too. Reading, card playing, and an occasional old-fashioned candy making enlivened the time. They really did not heed the passage of time as the vessel, day after day, brought them farther into that realm of delight—the tropics. All day long they lie lazily on deck under an awning that had been put up to protect them from the fervid rays of the glorious king of day, and drink in the fresh sea air so warm, yet so refreshing, so delicious.
The party had become so imbued with truly tropical indolence, that now, even reading was abandoned by them. They were having a desultory conversation one afternoon when it occurred to them that a pleasant diversion would be to relate any strange events that had ever happened to any of them, and then weave the whole into one romance, drawing on their imaginations, of course, to make the final story more thrilling.
“Now,” cried Mabel, “Mr. Thornton, as you were the one to propose the scheme, you must be the first to tell of the events in your life that are worthy to be written in our crazy-patch story, which, I am sure, will astonish the whole world when we allow it to read our wonderful productions.”
“All right, Miss Miller; but as you are the one to propose giving our story the honor of being written I move that you be the one to write down all the events that have, in the past, happened to our party,” Mr. Thornton answered with a laugh, as Mabel made a wry face at being picked out as the one to do the only physical labor connected with the plan.
“Wait until I run down and get a blank book which I have in my cabin, and we shall be under full sail,” saying which Mr. Thornton disappeared down the companion way, returning with blank book and pencil. “Now, Miss Mabel, to work.”
“But,” said she, “how can I write anything until you have told me what to write.”
“By Jove, I forgot you were waiting for me to begin. Let me see, to begin with I was born at a very early age, and——”
“Now stop, Mr. Thornton, we won’t allow any such old joke as that to go with our romance,” cried Etta.
“Very well, then; I was born at Brighton, England. Now, really, girls, I don’t see where I’m going to find the romance or strange events in my life. I’m in despair.”
“That isn’t fair, Mr. Thornton,” said Mabel, “you’ve got to go on now. I warrant you have a romance you don’t want us to know anything about.”
“Well, here goes then. I was born at Brighton, England, and lived there the first fifteen years of my life. When I was about a year old my father, who was a sea captain, left home in his ship for the very port which we are bound for, but which he never reached, as his vessel was lost with all on board and was never heard from. I lived with my widowed mother until I was fifteen, at which time she died, leaving me alone in the world, as I had no brother or sister and but one relative, an uncle, who, at about the time I was born, had gone to Australia, where he had large interests in some of the gold mines in that region. After my uncle learned of my mother’s death he sent me to school and college, in the meantime putting a liberal amount of money at my disposal, and when I left college I had a letter from him saying that he now wished me to come out to Australia and live with him, to take an interest in his large business; in fact to occupy the place of a son to him, as he was childless. Now you would think of course I did as he wished, but I did not, and why? All because a pretty little girl, with rosy cheeks and roguish, laughing eyes, had too strong an attraction for me; but I should have known that those laughing eyes could have looked as lovingly at other admirers as myself. But I trusted my little darling, even when with her arms around my neck she told me that ‘papa must not know of our engagement just yet.’ What difference did it make to me so long as I knew she loved me, even if she did dance half the night and idle away half the day with that young idiot Grayson, whose father is worth his millions. I knew that she loved me, but one day I awoke from my dream. What was this I held in my hand—a card to a wedding? Was I going mad or had my eyes played me false? No, my God, no; it was there printed on the card I held in my hand—‘HELEN JESSUP TO HERBERT GRAYSON.’ Yes, it was my darling’s name. I dropped my head on my hands and gave way to my agony. But finally recovering myself I resolved to go to Helen and ask her what it meant; so dashing out of the house I was soon in a cab going rapidly toward her father’s house. I hardly gave the cab time to stop before I sprang out and rushed up the steps and rang at the door. I asked for Helen. The servant hesitated a moment and then said, ‘Miss Jessup is at home, but I do not know whether she will see anyone or not. I will ask, if you will step into the parlor, sir.’ I went in, my head in a whirl. I was hardly seated when Helen rushed in—a vision of loveliness in white—and actually threw herself in my arms, exclaiming, ‘You darling Allen; I know what you are going to say, but don’t say it, dearest, for my heart is broken, too.’
“‘What do you mean,’ I cried, ‘your heart broken? Who has broken it, may I ask?’
“‘Allen dear, don’t look at me that way; I cannot endure it. You look as if you blamed me for what has happened.’
“‘And who, pray, is to blame?’ I found breath to ask. At which she melted into tears and cried, ‘You don’t love me any more.’
“I was almost dumb with astonishment. ‘You don’t expect me to love you when you are going to marry another man, do you,?’ I gasped.
“‘Don’t you see how it is; I love you and always shall love you. Really, I could not marry you after papa found that your income from your mother’s estate was only four hundred pounds a year. Now, dearest, you know I could not dress decently on that. No, I had to marry Herbert, but I do not love him and never shall.’
“‘Why, Helen,’ I cried, ‘why did you not say it was money, not love, that you wanted, and I could have told you I have an allowance of five thousand pounds a year from my uncle, who is one of the wealthiest men in Australia.’
“‘Why didn’t you tell me that before; it would have made all the difference in the world. I don’t see what I can do now, unless I get up an awful quarrel with Herbert, and I will do that if I can.’
“I was shocked beyond all expression. This grasping, money-loving woman, who did not hesitate to say that she loved one man, when she was on the eve of marrying another. Could it be my Helen, whom I had thought the soul of innocence and goodness, all girlish love and yielding tenderness?
“I turned from her with a feeling that was almost loathing. I could not answer one word, but took my hat and left her presence forever.
“The next day found me with a ticket for New York in my pocket, and a determination to spend the rest of my life with my uncle, and, in a new country begin a new life. Such, young ladies, is my story so far; what will happen hereafter is a sealed book, as yet. Now, Miss Etta, give us your story next.”
Scarcely had Allen Thornton uttered these words, when they were suddenly aroused by the sharp ringing of the ship’s bell, and, at the same moment Mrs. Gray appeared on the deck, her face white and her whole manner one of alarm. The young people sprang to their feet and ran toward her, crying out “what is it,”? “what has happened”?, “what is the matter,?” all talking at once in breathless excitement, presenting a strange contrast to the picture they had formed a moment before, of perfect comfort and contentment.
Mrs. Gray did not speak, but dropped into a chair as if utterly helpless.
“What is it,” again cried Etta.
Mrs. Gray raised her head and uttered that one word, so terrible to hear at sea: “Fire!!”
“O, mamma, is the ship on fire?”
By this time Mrs. Gray had recovered her composure, and, answered, “yes, on fire. Do what you can quickly to save what valuables you have. Your father says there is considerable powder in the vessel, and, that we shall probably have to take to the boats to save our lives.”
Indeed, already while they had been speaking, the men had been busy supplying the life boats with barrels of sea biscuit, and salt beef, and casks of fresh water and other necessities; and the scene which had so lately been one of placid enjoyment, had, in a moment been turned into the wildest confusion. Sailors running here and there, officers shouting out orders, and above it all, the smoke arising in dense clouds. The life boats were soon ready for their precious human freight. Into one boat Mrs. Gray, Allen Thornton, the three girls, the captain and four sailors went, the rest of the crew taking another boat. The men set the sails on the captain’s boat, and, as there was a brisk breeze blowing, together with the fact that the men bent manfully to the oars, they were soon a safe distance from the burning ship, and looking back could see the flames bursting out all over her.
All at once there was a frightful noise, and as they looked, they saw the vessel torn asunder, portions of her being thrown high in the air. It was as if she had lifted herself out of her watery bed in one wild leap of joy, at no longer being under the control of human hands, but left to the mad caprice, of the wild elements—fire and water. As a portion of the smoke cleared away the now shipwrecked watchers could see that she has been completely shattered by the terrible explosion, and, that what had been so lately a noble vessel, breasting the waves with majestic calm, was now gone from the face of the waters; no more should she sail away with her sails bellying in the breeze, her flag and pennon floating gaily at her mastheads; no more should loving eyes gaze out over the harbor bar with longing anxiety for her coming, bringing loved ones home. No, she had gone, gone forever.
The day passed slowly enough to our friends. All through the afternoon they kept in sight of the other boat load of fellow sufferers. As the day advanced, the breeze, which had been blowing all day, was a strong gale by the time night had fallen, with that suddenness, which seems, in a moment, to envelop the sea and earth as with a dark shroud dropped by mysterious hand from heaven.
There is in the tropics no gentle approach of night, no soft shades of twilight, that time when all heaven and earth is hushed in dreamy, restful quiet; that time between the busy, gay and garish day and the dark, gruesome night. The darkness seemed to increase the uneasiness of all on board the little craft as they were afraid the high winds might drive them against some of the large pieces of wreckage which, before nightfall they had seen not far from them; and if such an accident happened to them there would be little chance of their escaping a most horrible death. But their fears from that source were fortunately not realized.
At last morning dawned, but bringing no abatement of the storm; in fact, the southerly gale had increased to almost a hurricane in violence.
All day long the wind and sea raged, the seas breaking over the frail craft time and again. Not a mouthful of food was taken by any of the wretched party, as they did not dare to relax their hold on the boat to which they clung in the agony of despair. After hours of this horrible battling with the sea, Mrs. Gray feebly called out, “I can keep my hold no longer. My strength is almost gone. Good-bye my loved ones.”
Captain Gray made an effort to reach her but he had been thrown from his feet to the bottom of the boat a moment before, and his leg was now held by a cask that had fallen on him, and before any one could reach Mrs. Gray, another sea had swept the unfortunate boat, and, tearing her from her feeble hold had carried her far beyond the reach of assistance. The storm continued but a short time longer to vent its fury on the ill-fated occupants of the life-boat, and shortly after Mrs. Gray was swept away it passed on to the north in search of new victims; but left behind it a long angry swell, the vast bosom of the deep, heaving and swelling.
The grey and sullen skies, from which the rain now came in a soft shower, like a child denied some wished for toy, who cries and stamps its foot in rage, then finally sobs itself to sleep. All through the night the swells continued, but by morning had almost disappeared and the sun shown from a clear sky, with a genial warmth.
By noon, the clothes of the drenched party were dry and they had set to work to find what was left to them, after the storm, of their supply of provisions. They found the barrel of beef all right, the sea biscuit a little water-soaked, and set to work spreading the biscuit in the sun to dry. The barrels had all been firmly lashed to the boat so they had stood the stress of the storm with but little damage, but, to their horror, they found when they came to examine the water cask that was also lashed to the boat, that during the storm its side had been stove in, letting almost all the water escape, so that now there remained but a few pints of the precious liquid in the bottom of the cask. It was realized by all that the danger they now had most to fear was lack of water. After having eaten heartily of the sea biscuit and beef, that to satisfy their immediate thirst, would take all the water remaining, but they contented themselves with a mere sip, just enough to moisten their parched lips.
Carrie Gray, who had always been a delicate girl, was completely prostrated by the terror and hardships which she had undergone the past few days, and the loss of her mother preyed upon her mind so constantly, that by the evening of the third day she was raging with fever, and her father and sister denied themselves of their share of water, only dampening their lips and tongues with a few drops, so that Carrie might have all to relieve her sufferings as much as possible.