LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VI, Issue 665, 7 August 1876, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE ONE AND THE OTHER. f Concluded .) ‘No,’ he answered. Then he paused awhile, keeping her idle with the expression of thought in his eyes. ‘ Will you allow me to make a suggestion ? I think if you stood on a chair, and rested your left elbow on the bulwark, you would be able to take a steadier aim.’ ‘ But the recoil would overbalance me, and I should fall.’ ‘ There is no fear. Besides, I’ll stand behind and save you.’ ‘ You !’ with a half-pitying laugh. ‘ I should carry you to the deck with me as I fell. Let him ’—glancing at the other pas senger —‘ stand behind, if it is better I should fire as you say.’ ‘ Very well. Allow me to lower the hammer until all is ready.’ He did so, and sought a chair. As he went he set his teeth and drove his finger-nails into the flesh of his hands.

Should he let her fire that gun ? She had laughed at him ; she had scorned him ; she had said, ‘ Let him stand behind—l should carry you to the deck.’ She had looked pityingly at his mean shoulders when she alluded to the recoil. His scheme had fallen through. That man would not fire that gun. Should he let the woman ? He could not make up his mind. She had never done anything to win his (forbearance. All the contrary. Should he let her ? He could not make up his mind. He found a chair and brought it. He set it close beside the port bulwark, on a line with the after end of the cabin skylight. He mounted it, to sec that it was firm; then, getting down, he said: ‘ May I assist you ?’ She gave her hand. When she was safely standing, he said: ‘ Will you allow me to show you how to hold the gun so that you may secure the greatest steadiness and the least recoil ?’ He obtained . permission. The others looked on, pleased to see the improvement in his manners. He had never shown so much interest in anything else. He stood on his right foot and kept the other against the back of the chair to steady himself. He placed the elbow of her left arm on the bulwark, and made her lean so that all the upper portion of her figure hung over the water. The position was extremely awkward, but he insisted. Those on deck wondered at the great interest he was displaying, and still more at the strange attitude he recommended.

When all seemed ready, he took the gun and raised the hammer. His final instructions were, ‘ Don’t close your left hand until I tell you. I’ll place the barrel in it, aud, when I tell you, raise your right hand to the breach. All this gives steadiness, like saluting in fencing.’ He laid the barrel on the open palm of her loft hand, and drew the butt to her shoulder. At that moment the chair upon which they both stood trembled and swayed slightly. He had overstrained himself, and in the endeavour to recover he loosed his hold of the gun, aud with a swift jerk it shot down the side of the vessel and disappeared. ‘ How awkward ! ’ cried the woman. He leaped to the deck, and stood in front of the captain. ‘ I let your gun fall overboard. It was stupid of me, but I’ll pay you its value.’ ‘lt was’nt worth much. It had done its work.’ ‘lt might have done more,’ he muttered as he walked forward and disappeared down the companion. * * * * * * The ship had sailed frem the spring of southern sea, through the trophical summer, into the autumn of northern seas. If the day were bright and clear, it would have been almost possible to see the headlands shielding the port of her destination. But the clouds were low and ragged, and the air was thick with tangled mist-wreaths, and grey with shattered spray, and dense with flying rain. A narrow, shallow vault of hideous yellow-grey raged over her ; below, the yellow-green waters rolled in frantic terror, and leaped upon her. and clung to her, as though they sought security from the winds upon her deck. Her torn sails quivered in the wind, her bellying cordage trembled and shrieked. Her fore-mast and main-mast lay over the side, a sodden waste of sullen danger. Her mizen-mast still held, but the sails were shattered and the rigging distraught. She was fair before the wind. She was dying in the arms of the blasts. Her cargo had shifted, and the water was rising ; and this almost in sight of laud ! Her>o, under the dills of England, in sight of the windows of their homes, those in that ship debated which was the least desperate chance—to stay, or to launch the only boat remaining. It was idle waste to work the pumps. All stood aft, aud at length the captain gave orders, aud the after starboard boat—the only one remaining, was got ready. It was a large boat, and would carry all. The shore was not more than ten miles oil’, fair down in the wind, and there were two good chances —they might either reach the mouth of the port, or drift into the little bay. The ship could not float another hour, perhaps not half that time. This was the captain’s reasoning.

All was quickly made ready. The vessel was brought with her port side to the sea, so that the boat might be launched in the shelter. First they got the captain’s wife in, then the passengers. As the crew were taking their seats the dark passenger said to his companion, when only one or two men remained on board the ship: ‘ Have you any brandy ?’ ‘No, I don’t want any.’ ‘ But the woman. If I had any I should bring it. ’ * There is some in the boat.’ ‘No knowing how long we may be here. The men may lay hands on the brandy. If I had any I’d bring it.’ ‘There’s some in my room; but hardly any time to fetch it. ’ ‘Plenty. You run. I’ll see you are not left behind,’ ‘ Very good.’ ‘ Where are you going, sir ?’ roared the captain angrily, as he saw the tall form clamber up the mizen-chains. ‘ He’s forgotten his purse, answered the dark passenger. When the man disappeared over the side, the other shifted his position in the boat. She was made fast to the vessel, not by the davit ropes, but by a long painter. It was dangerous to lie under the davits, lest she should touch the ship’s side and be staved. ‘ I’ll hold the line,’ said the passenger to the man who had it rove, under the foremost thwarts. ‘ Better let me, sir; you’re not used to ropes.’ ‘ Oh, let me; I promised him.’ The sailor relinquished his hold; the boat gave a wild plunge backward, and the line iIcAV over the gunwale with a loud flap as the form of the tall man rose above the bulwark of the ship, A cry of horror went up from all those in the boat. For an instant the man on the ship did not appear to comprehend. He beckoned them to return. Then suddenly he conceived his real position, threw up his hands wildly towards heaven, and, clasping his arms around a mizen shroud, sat down on the bulwark, and so remained aslong as those in the boat could see the ship. So he sat without motion, stunned and frozen by the thought that he, of all others, should be lost within sight of his own home, almost within the circle of his wife’s arms. The ship still floated. He did not pause to look round. He did not care to wonder why she had not sunk. His fate was sealed; he awaited it without struggle. It was growing dusk, and still he sat and hung on by that shroud. Suddenly the ship seemed to spring feverishly from the water. He started in surprise; looked round; rose to his feet, and holding the shroud still, shaded his eyes and looked around. A small land-locked bay, into which the sea roared and bellowed. In front of him a low beach. Upon the beach a heavy surf; and above that beach, in that dim glen, now muffled in mist, his home—his wife. And he ‘No, no I No, no! Where is the flask? Now for a lifebuoy. Good I ... A heavy bump that time. . . . Eocky bottom. She’ll be in pieces in half an hour. Ha ! she’s dipping her nose, is she ? That Avou’t do. She’ll dip more in a minute, or less. . . . Not more than a hundred and fifty yards to shore, and no rocks, and a lifebuoy, and the heaven-sent brandy, and her ! —and her!—and her! . , . Ah! she’s dipping her nose again, is she ? That won’t do, ’Twon’t do to wait until she shows her keel in the air. Now for it! Oh, God ! * * * * * * ‘ A stiff fight, but it’s over! What’s that ? Ugh ! Poor fellow ! Only he told me to get the brandy, I’d never have fetched here. Poor fellow! I’ll pull his body up a bit, and bury him to-morrow. He shall have a tablet saying he saved my life. Stay! Here are people about. I wonder is there any one who knows me ? I’ll see this little crowd—some one there may know of my wife. . . . Does any one here know me ? ’ All fell back from one woman, who, seated on a beam, gazed with fixed, stony eyes at the name of the ship on a piece of wood. ‘ Does any one here know mo V She tottered to her feet. He went to her. ‘Do you know me V he murmured, as he caught her in arms from which some tresses of seaweed still hung. ‘ Ah !’ ‘ What ails my wife ?’ ‘ Come away 1 Como away I Hold me ! The sea is not coming back for you V ‘ J\ o never. ’ ‘ Come away! Come home ! You will take me far into the heart of England tomorrow V ‘ Yes, if you wish it.’ * Away from the sea * Away from the sea. ’ Then you must be he, and alive; fox' nothing could take me from the 'sea while my husband was away. I thought you were drowned, when I saw the name. But see ; your face is cut!’ And then a spasm shook her, and the ice around her heart was thawed ; and she clung to him, and murmured in his embrace, and wound her arms round him to inarticulate breathings of joy.