A Dream of the North Sea | Page 6

below, only craving to be left alone even
by the stewardess; but the hideous fascination of the storm drew
Marion Dearsley again and again, and she sheltered herself under the
hatch, and looked with awe at the mad turmoil which could be seen
astern. Here and there, far up on the rushing sides of the foaming
mountains, stray smacks hung like specks; the schooner shipped very
little water now, and Ferrier kept the deck with some difficulty. Events
succeeded each other with the terrifying suddenness of shocking
dreams, and when the skipper said, "Thank God for a good vessel under
us, sir; many a good man has gone to meet his Maker this night,"
Ferrier had quite a new sensation, which I might almost say approached
terror, were I not writing about an absolutely courageous fellow.
Still the series of moving accidents went on. A smack hove up under
the stern of the schooner, and our skipper said gravely, "That Brixham
man's mad to try sailing that vessel. If one puff comes any harder than
the last, he'll be hove down." Then the skipper turned to look forward,
and Ferrier followed him. A low, strangled moan made them both start
and look down the companion. Marion Dearsley, pointing with
convulsively rigid arm, exclaimed, "The vessel--oh, the poor men!"
That smack was hove down, and her mainsail was held by the weight of
water.
"I expect we must carry away something, but I'm going down to him.

Jump to the wheel, sir, and cast that lashing. When I wave, shove it
hard a-starboard. That way, sir. The men and I must manage forrad.
You must go below at once, Miss. Jim, shove those bolts in."
There was a shock, and Ferrier thought the mainsheet had parted; then
three strongish seas hit the schooner until she shuddered and rolled
under the immense burden. It was a fearful risk, but the vessel freed
herself and drove to the smack. One man was hanging on over the
starboard side which was hove up; the schooner swept on in cruel
danger, and the skipper might well look stern and white. "We sha'n't
save it," he growled. Then Ferrier groaned, "Oh, God," for the keel of
the smack at last heaved up, and she went down, down, slowly down,
while her copper showed less and less, till the last fatal sea completed
the work of wrath and ruin.
Ferrier felt that sensation of sickness which I have so often seen shown
by strong men. The skipper said: "We'll heave her to again. You'd
better get below. Your pluck's all right, but an unlucky one might catch
you, and you ain't got the knack of watching for an extra drop o' water
same as us."
Lewis Ferrier went below and found all his friends looking anxious.
Indeed, the clamour was deafening, and the bravest man or woman had
good reason for feeling serious. Marion Dearsley looked at Ferrier with
parted lips, and he could see that she was unable to speak; but her eyes
made the dread inquiry which he expected. He bowed his head, and the
girl covered her face with a tearing sob: "Oh, the fatherless! O Lord,
holy and true, how long? Bless the fatherless!" The poor prostrate
ladies in the further cabin added their moanings to that dreadful wail,
and you may guess that no very cheerful company were gathered in that
dim saloon. Of course they would have been swamped had not the
skylights been covered in, and the low light was oppressive. At six in
the morning the skipper came with a grin and beckoned Mr. Blair into
the crew's cabin.
"I pretended to laugh, sir," said he, "but it's not quite laughing now. The
fog's coming over, and we're just going into cloud after cloud of it.
Don't let either of the ladies peep up again on any account. I'm afeared

o' nothing but collision, but it's regular blind man's holiday when one o'
them comes down."
"I'll see my sister right, Freeman, and I'll come and try if I can have a
peep from your ladder." Then Blair saw a thing which always seems
more impressive than anything else that can be witnessed at sea--except,
perhaps, a snowstorm. A mysterious portent came rolling onward; afar
off it looked like a pale grey wall of inconceivable height, but as it
drew nearer, the wall resolved itself into a wild array of columns, and
eddies, and whirlpools, and great full-bosomed clouds, that rolled and
swam and rose and fell with maddening complexity. Then came a
breath of deadly chillness, and then a horror of great darkness--a
darkness that could be felt. The skipper himself took to the fore rigging,
and placed one of the watch handy to the wheel; finally he called all