"well, parsenger, we're likely to get in to port before long, if we only have a breeze of wind," said harvey barth, the cook and steward of the brig waldo, in a peculiar, drawling tone, by which any one who knew the speaker might have recognized him without the use of his eyes.
the steward was a tall, lank, lantern-jawed man, whose cheek-bones were almost as prominent as his long nose. his face was pale, in spite of the bronze which a west india sun had imparted to it, and his hair was long and straight. he had a very thin beard of jet[pg 12] black, which contrasted strongly with the pallor of his face. his voice was hollow, and sounded doubly so from the drawl with which he uttered his sentences, and every remark he made was preceded by a single long-drawn hacking cough, which might have been caused by the force of habit or the incipient workings of disease. he was seated in the galley, abaft the foremast of the brig, and when the passenger showed himself at the door of the galley, he had been engaged in writing in a square record-book, which he closed the instant the visitor darkened the aperture of his den.
the passenger—the only one on board of the waldo—was a short, thick-set man of about forty, whose name was entered on the brig's papers as jacob wallbridge, and his trunk bore the initials corresponding to this name. in his hand he had a pipe, filled full of tobacco, and it was evident that he had called at the galley only to light it, though the steward proceeded to infold his book in an ample piece of oil-cloth which lay upon the seat at his side. it was clear that he did not wish the passenger to know what he was doing, or, at least, what he had written,[pg 13] for he was really quite nervous, as he securely tied the book, and then locked it up in a box under the seat. though harvey barth did not confess it then, it was, nevertheless, a fact that he had been writing in his book about the passenger who darkened his door, though what he wrote was not seen by any human eye until many months after the pen had done its office.
"i thought this morning we should get in to-night," replied the passenger, as he stepped inside of the caboose. "may i borrow a coal of fire from the stove, doctor?"
"certain, if you can get one; but the fire is about out. you will find some matches in the tin box on your right," added the steward.
"i like to light my pipe in the old-fashioned way when i can. i don't mean to begin to suck in brimstone just yet," continued wallbridge, as he succeeded in finding a coal, and soon had his pipe in working order. "what were you doing with that book, doctor? do you keep a log of the voyage?"
"well, ya-as," drawled the steward. "i keep a log of this voyage, and a log of the voyage of life. i've kept a diary ever since i taught[pg 14] school; and that's seven years ago, come winter."
"it must be worth reading. i should like to look it over, if we have to stay out here another day. i suppose you have seen a good deal of the world, if you have been to sea many years."
"no; i haven't seen much of the world. i never went but one voyage before this, and that was in a coaster, from new york to bangor. the diary is only for my own reading, and i wouldn't let anybody look at it for all the world," answered harvey barth, with an even more painful cough than usual.
"then you are not a great traveller," added wallbridge, puffing away at his pipe, as he watched the sun sinking to his rest beyond the western waves.
"bless you! no. i was brought up on a farm in york state. i used to keep school winters till the folks in our town began to think they must have a more dandified chap than i am."
"where did you learn to cook, if you were a schoolmaster?"
"well you see i was an only son, and my mother died when i was but sixteen. father[pg 15] and i kept house together till he died, and i used to do about all the cooking. i had an idea then that i could do it pretty well, too," replied harvey, with a sickly smile. "the old man got to drinking rather too much, and lost all he had and all i had, too. my health wasn't very good; i had a bad cough and night sweats. i was an orphan at twenty-four, and i thought i'd go to new york city, and take a little voyage on the salt water. i had about a hundred dollars i earned after the old man died; but a fellow in the city got it all away from me;" and harvey hung his head, as though this was not a pleasant experience to remember.
"ah! how was that?" asked wallbridge.
"the fellow offered to show me round town, and, as i was kind of lonesome, i went with him. we called at a place to pay a bill he owed. he had a check for three hundred dollars; but the man he owed couldn't give him the change, so i lent him my hundred dollars, and took the check till he paid me. then my kind friend went into another room; and that's the last i ever saw of him. i couldn't find him, but i did find that the check was good for nothing. i hadn't a[pg 16] dollar left. at one of the piers i came across a schooner that wanted a cook, and i shipped right off. then the cap'n's nephew wanted to cook for him, after we got to bangor, and i was out of a job. i worked in an eating-house for a while, cooking; but my health was so bad i wanted to go to a warm climate; so i shipped in this brig for the west indies. it was warm enough there, but i didn't get any better. i don't think i'm as stout as i was when i left bangor. i shall not hold out much longer."
"o, yes, you will. you may live to be a hundred years old yet," added wallbridge, rather lightly.
"no; my end isn't a great way off," added the steward, with a sigh, as the passenger, evidently not pleased with the turn the conversation had taken, walked away from the galley.
any one who looked at harvey barth would have found no difficulty in accepting his gloomy prediction; and yet he was, as events occurred, farther from his end than his companions in the brig. the steward sat before his stove, gazing at the planks of the deck under his feet. he was deeply impressed by the words he had[pg 17] uttered if the passenger was not. he had improved the opportunity, while the weather was calm to write up his diary, and perhaps the thoughts he had expressed on its pages had started a train of gloomy reflections. the future seemed to have nothing inviting to him, and his attention was fixed upon an open grave at no great distance before him in the pathway of his life. beyond that he had hardly taught himself to look; if he had he would, doubtless, have been less sad and gloomy.
his work for the day had all been done; supper in the cabin had been served, and the beef and hard bread had been given to the crew two hours before. it was a day in august, and the sun had lingered long above the horizon. harvey had finished writing in his diary when the passenger interrupted him; but, apparently to change the current of his thoughts, he took the book from the box, and began to read what he had written.
"i don't know what his name is, but i don't believe it's wallbridge," said he, to himself, as the last page recalled the reflections which had caused him to make some of the entries in the[pg 18] book. "that wasn't the name i found on the paper in his state-room, though the initials were the same. i don't see what he changed his name for; but that's none of my business. i only hope he hasn't been doing anything wrong."
"my pipe's gone out," said wallbridge, presenting himself at the door of the galley again. "i want another coal of fire."
the steward carefully secured his book again, and returned it to the box, while the passenger was lighting his pipe.
"rather a still time just now," said the steward, alluding to the weather, as wallbridge puffed away at his pipe.
"dead calm," replied the passenger.
"we shall not get in to-morrow at this rate."
"captain 'siah says we shall have more wind than we want before morning," added the smoker. "he wishes the brig was twenty miles farther out to sea, for his barometer has gone down as though the bottom had dropped out of it."
"it looks like one of those west india showers," added the steward, as he glanced out at one of the doors of the galley.[pg 19]
the calm and silence which had pervaded the deck of the waldo seemed to be broken. captain 'siah had given his orders to the mate, who was now shouting lustily to the crew, though there was not a breath of air stirring, and the brig lay motionless upon the still waters. the vessel was a considerable distance within the range of islands which separate penobscot bay from the broad ocean. the water was nearly as smooth as a mill-pond, and harvey had found no more difficulty in writing in his diary than if the waldo had been anchored in the harbor of rockland, whither she was bound, though she had made the land some distance to the eastward of owl's head.
harvey bath walked out upon the deck, after putting on an overcoat to protect him from the chill air of the evening, for he felt that his life depended upon his precaution. in the south-west the clouds were dense and black, indicating the approach of a heavy shower. in the east, just as dense and black, was another mass of clouds; and the two showers seemed to be working up towards the zenith.
"cast off the fore tack!" shouted the mate. "let go the fore sheet!"[pg 20]
when this last order was given, it was the duty of the cook to execute it; and, ordinarily, this is about the only seaman's duty which the "doctor" is called upon to perform. harvey promptly cast off the sheet, and the hands at the clew-garnets hauled up the foresail. the flying-gib and top-gallant sails had already been furled, and the canvas on the brig was soon reduced to the fore-topsail, fore-topmast staysail, and spanker; and these sails hung like wet rags, the vessel drifting with the tide, which now set up the bay.
the dense black clouds slowly approached the zenith, and it was dark before there appeared to be any commotion of the elements. as the gloom of the evening increased, the lightning became more vivid, the zigzag chains of electric fluid darting angrily from the inky masses of cloud which obscured the sky. the heavy thunder sounded nearer and more overhead, indicating the nearer approach of the two showers. scarcely did the flashing lightning—almost instantly followed by the cannon-like crash of the thunder—blaze and peal on one side of the brig, before the flaming bolt and the startling[pg 21] roar were taken up on the other side, as though the two tempests on either hand were vying with each other for the mastery of the air.
captain josiah barnwood, familiarly called, even by the crew, who were his friends and neighbors, captain 'siah, nervously walked his quarter-deck, after he had taken every precaution which a careful sailor could take; for, even if his practised eye had not taught him that there was wind in the clouds in the south-west, the barometer had earnestly admonished him of violent disturbances in the atmosphere. he had done everything he could for the safety of the brig, but he blamed himself—though without reason, for the change of weather had been sudden and unexpected—for coming into the bay when it was so near night. the brig was surrounded on nearly every side by rocky islands and numerous reefs, with the chances that thick weather would hide the friendly lights from his view. but it was a summer day, and, until late in the afternoon, when there was no wind to help him, no change could have been anticipated.
captain 'siah was nervous, though he was as[pg 22] familiar with the bay as he was with the apartments in his own house. he knew every island and head land, every rock and shoal, and the situation of every light-house; but the barometer had warned him of nothing less than a hurricane. the waldo was an old vessel, and barely sea-worthy, even for a summer voyage, to the region of hurricanes. he had, therefore, many misgivings, as he paced the quarter-deck, watching the angry bolts of lightning, and listening to the deafening roar of the thunder. occasionally he halted at the taffrail, and gazed into the thick darkness of the south-west, from which his experience taught him the tempest would come. then, at the foot of the mainmast he halted again, to listen for any sound that might come over the waters from the eastward; but his glances in this direction were brief and hurried, for he expected the storm from the opposite quarter.
again he paused at the taffrail, by the side of the man who stood idle at the wheel, for the brig had not motion enough to give her steerage-way. this time captain 'siah listened longer than usual. from far away to seaward, between[pg 23] the peals of thunder, came a confused, roaring sound. at the same time a slight puff of air swelled the sails of the brig, and the helmsman threw over the wheel to meet her, as the vessel began to move through the still waters.
"haul down the fore-topmast staysail!" shouted captain 'siah, at the top of his lungs, a sudden energy seeming to take possession of his nervous frame.
"ay, ay, sir," returned the mate; and almost at the same instant the captain heard the hanks rattling down the stay.
"it's coming down upon us like a tornado," said captain 'siah to the passenger who was smoking his pipe on the quarter-deck.
"can i do anything, captain 'siah?" asked wallbridge, who had been aroused from his lethargy by the energy of the captain.
"yes; let go the peak-halyards of the spanker!" answered the captain, sharply, as he sprang to the throat-halyards himself.
the sail came down, and the passenger, who had evidently been to sea before, proceeded to gather up and secure the fluttering canvas, for the breeze was rapidly freshening.[pg 24]
"furl the fore-topsail," cried the captain, with a kind of desperation, which indicated his sense of the peril of the brig.
"ay, ay, sir," shouted the ready mate, who, in anticipation of the order, had manned the halyards, and stationed hands at the sheets and clewlines. "let go the sheets! clew up—lively! settle away the halyards! ready at the bunt-lines—sharp work, boys! aloft, and furl the topsail!"
"set the main-staysail!" shouted the captain.
captain 'siah was an old-fashioned shipmaster, and the waldo was an old-fashioned vessel. everything on board was done promptly and skillfully in the old-fashioned way. the captain knew just where he was as long as he could see any of the objects around him, whether lights or the dark outlines of the rocky islands. his principal fear was, if the brig withstood the shock of the tempest, that she would drift upon some dangerous rocks, which were hidden by the waves after half-tide. they were situated off a large island, whose high, precipitous shores he could just discern, when the lightning illuminated the scene around him. this island and[pg 25] these perilous rocks were dead to leeward of the waldo, and hardly a mile distant. with the aid of the staysail captain 'siah hoped—and only hoped—that he should be able to work his vessel out of the range of these dangers. but before the staysail could be set, and before the fore-topsail could be furled, a violent squall struck the brig. the fore-topsail was blown out of the hands of the four seamen who had gone aloft to secure it. so great was the fury of the tempest that in an instant the well-worn sail was torn into ribbons, and great pieces of it were blown away, like little white clouds played upon by the lightning. worse than this, two of the men on the topsail-yard were wrenched from their hold on the spar, and hurled into the darkness beneath them, one falling into foaming waters, and the other striking senseless upon the deck.
vainly, for a time, the mate, with four men to help him, struggled to set the staysail, upon which depended the safety of the brig from the savage rocks to leeward of her. at last they succeeded stimulated by the hoarse shouts of captain 'siah on the quarter-deck, though not[pg 26] till one of the four men had been struck insensible on the deck by the fierce blows of the sheet-block. the sail was hauled out finally by the exertions of the mate. the helmsman met her at the wheel, and the waldo heeled over till the water poured in over her lee bulwarks. at this moment, the staysail, too flimsy from age to stand the strain upon it, was blown out of the bolt-ropes, with an explosion like a cannon, and went off like a misty cloud into the darkness. the hour of doom seemed to have overtaken the waldo; but in spite of the misfortunes that overwhelmed her, captain 'siah did not abandon hope, or relax his exertions to save the vessel.
"set the fore-topmast staysail!" hoarsely yelled the captain. "send four hands aft to set the spanker!"
captain 'siah did not know, when he gave this order, that three of his nine hands had been disabled, and the mate sent only three men aft, one of whom told the captain of the accident. but the passenger was as zealous and willing as even the mate. in order to save his canvas, the captain ordered the spanker to be[pg 27] balance-reefed. the stops were taken off, and the master assisted in the work with his own hands.
"jam your helm hard down!" he cried to the man at the wheel. "if we can get her head up to the wind, we may be able to set these sails."
all hands worked with desperate energy, and it required all their strength to prevent the canvas from being blown out of their hands. the savage wind upon her bare hull and spars had given the brig steerage-way, and when the man at the helm threw the wheel over, the head of the vessel began to come up to the wind. captain 'siah was hopeful, and he encouraged the men at the spanker to renewed exertions. he saw that the mate had partially succeeded in setting the head sail, and the chances were certainly much better than they had been a moment before. perhaps, if no greater calamity than that which came on the wings of the stormy wind had befallen the brig and her crew, she might possibly have been saved.
the shower from the south-west and that from the east, had apparently come together[pg 28] above the devoted vessel. the lightning was more frequent and vivid, the thunder followed each flash almost instantaneously; and captain 'siah realized that the clouds were but a short distance above the brig. but he heeded not the booming thunder or the glaring lightning, only as the latter enabled him to see the work upon which the mate and himself were engaged. the captain, aided by the passenger, was lashing the throat of the gaff down to its place, when a heavy bolt of lightning, accompanied at the same instant by a terrific peel of thunder, struck the main-royal mast-head, and leaped down the mast in a lurid current of fire. at the throat of the main-boom it was divided, part of it following the mast down into the cabin and hold, and the rest darting off on the spar, where the captain, the passenger, and three men were at work on the spanker. every one of them was struck down, and lay senseless on the deck. even the man at the wheel shared their fate, though no one could know who were killed and who were simply stunned by the shock. the lightning capriciously leaped from the boom to the metal work of the wheel,[pg 29] shattering the whole into a thousand pieces, and splintering the rudder-head as though it had been so much glass.
the rudder was disabled, the fore-topmast staysail was rent into ribbons, and the brig fell off into the trough of the sea, where she rolled helplessly at the mercy of the tempest.
