CHAPTER XVII.

Waikato Times, Volume I, Issue 179, 1 July 1873, Page 2

CHAPTER XVII.

The sky it seems- would pour down stinking pitch, „ Bat that the sea mounting to the welkin's cheek, .' Dashes the fire out: Ov board the Arthur's Bride — she has battled out the night bravely with- the storm, arid now a pale and sickly dawn is creeping into tho cadb — young Gerard Robertson lies helplessly in his berth. Tho feeble rays of light that penetrate through the tracks and crevices of the storm-shutters and of the door, did not give him much comfort. The storm still continues, the rushing of the wind, the thundering orash. of the waters. The cabin is all afloat ; and at each roll of the ship the water dashes across from side to side, churning and spluttering among the scanty fittings. Seizing the occasion of a moment of lull, Gerard rises from the berth and essays to reach the door, which anon seems an opening to the sky, anon a trap leading to tho storehouses of the deep. The door is fastened : it opens inwards, and there is nothing to give him a purchase. In vain he pulls at the handle, in vain he kicks at the panels ; the handle comes off in his. hands : his kicks, his shouts, are all unheeded. It is horrible to bo shut in here, perhaps to be drowned without a struggle* to perish miserably in the dark. Hark! above the voice of the wind, the tumult of,jthe waves, he hears a. dull reverberating sound, a heavy booming — the thunder of surf on a rock-bound shore ! He kuew enough of geography to be aware that if they had run to sea in the night, and the wind had shifted a few points, their situation would be one of extreme danger. The long promontory of Lhyn, stretching out towards the Irish coast, fcrmed one of tbf horns of a bay which was almost sure to be fatal to a ship once entrapped in its embraces. No skill, nq seamanship, could weathrr that fetal point, if the wind were blowing strong ashore. In tnoh a howling storm as this, escape would b« impossible. As long as he heard the tramp of men overhead, the hoarse cries of the officers of the ship, he had some sense of human companionship, felt not altogether lost and desperate*. But when the sounds ceaied altogether — when the motion of the vessel became easier — when he heard in a momentary lull the splash and beat of oars — when he realised that he had been abandoned to meet his fate alone, he became almost frenzied with fury, and brat and hammered at the cabin door, tearing and clawing, at it with impotent rage. All of a sudden the door was opened, and an old weatherbeaten sailor stood before him ; he made a gesture of astonishment, and then beckoning Gerard to follow, led him quickly to the main-deck. The ship was flying rapidly before the wind, her helm firmly lashed ; half a mile on her lee-bow ran- a dark line of rock-bound coast, visible every now and then in the driving mist. The rising curl of a wave disolosed some hundred yards away, a boat making for the shore. ' Dim useyah !' shouted the seaman, pointing to the boat. c Stick to ship— much better, yes. Now come- > ship strike directly. 1 As he spoke, with a dull grating sound, quivering in every timber, the ship touched the ground beneath her. Gerard and the seaman were thrown violently forward, whilst a great sheet of sparkling water, hanging over them fop a moment* burst upon them with tremendous force. The old man clutched Gerard firmly with one hand ; with the other, he clung desperately to the rigging. The great wave passed over them, driving every sensation out of their bewildered frames as it wrapped them up in its .biting, waters and blinding foam ; but it passed at last ;' once more they saw the sky above their heads ; the top-mast» had all gone by the board., snapped clean off by the shock. The stump of the- main-mast still stood firm beside- them, and up the rigging they crawled, Gerard assisted by the sailor, and reached the- cross-trees. Here, as long as the mast stood, they were somewhat out of the reach of the surf, and the , seaman producing a cord, lashed himself and his companion securely to the rigging. Every now and then, a great curling wave .would strike- savagely out at them, covering them with a watery shroud. Every moment, as the vessel groaned and shifted under the impact of the furious sea, they expected the ship would break up, and their refuge bo engulfed in the surf The floating.wreck and lumber,, however, banging about the abip, formed •» ;kind of breakwater against the extreme force of the- waves; she held together bravely. Her poop-Seek was carried away first, and the sea wai strewn for a moment with planks- and sails and all the fittings of the cabins ; still the main-deck held out firmlj for a while. But the x insidious, never-tiring sea found out •» weak- place at last ; plank after plank was washed away, and then the waves, in one grand assault of all their forces, stormed their way into Jbhe^rfach,, and,* with a mighty crash, the strong^deck broke up into shattered, splintered fragments. The mast shook to and fro, but still it .stood: ; firmly stepped into the keel, it would stand to the very last j but how 1 soon that very lose would be r The old seamat folded his bands, closed bi» eyes-in prayer ; when he looked wp again, he cried witb a loud voice :' •■ Praised be God, the tide has turned !' . • - • As though at some signal of recall", the sullen waves now began t& retreat • the 1 highest of these could not reach them now. The sun broke out, feebly at first, and coldly through wracks and driving mists, but by-and-by, with cheering grateful warmth. ;> and' presently, the boiling, bubbling sun ebbed right away, and the yellow sands shone forth, wel and gleaming. (jarts came down' to the margin of thi waters 5 and when the wreck was seen by their drivers, thej set up * shout, and presently the beach was crowded witl men and women, picking up all they could lay their handi on. Like so many ants* they seemed to the men clinging te the* mast.'