Fire Island | Page 4

lantern or two swung to and fro as the vessel rose and fell on the unquiet sea.
"What do you make of it, Smith?" cried the mate to one of the watch.
"Can't make nothing on it at all, sir," said the man, taking off his cap and scratching his head, while his face, like those of his companions' had a peculiar scared aspect. "'Tar'nt like a thunderstorm, cause there ar'n't a drop o' lightning."
"Bit, matey," said one of the man's comrades.
"Get out," growled the first man, "how can it be a bit, Billy Wriggs, when yer can't touch it? I said a drop and I mean it."
"Don't argue," said the mate, sharply. "Do you mean to say, all of you, that you saw no flash?"
"Not a sign o' none, sir," said the first man. "There?"
Another fearful detonation came with startling violence to their ears, and as they stood upon the deck the report seemed to jar them all in a dull, heavy way.
"Warn't no flash o' lightning there, sir."
"No, I saw no flash," said Oliver Lane, uneasily.
"No, there aren't been none, sir. Lightning allus flickers and blinks like, 'fore you hear any thunder at all."
"These dense black clouds might hide the flashes," said Lane.
"No," said Panton. "I should say that a flash of lightning would pass through any cloud. I don't think it's thunder."
"What, then, a naval action going on?"
"No war," said the mate, "it must be thunder."
Another detonation, louder than any they had heard before, made the ship literally quiver, and the men pressed together and turned their startled faces towards the mate as if for help and protection.
"World's coming to a hend," muttered one of the men.
"If I was skipper here," said another, "I'd just 'bout ship and run for it."
"Where to?" said Wriggs.
"Can't run your ship out o' the world, matey," grumbled the first sailor who had spoken, while the mate and the cabin passengers stood gazing in the direction from which the detonations seemed to come, and tried to pierce the dense blackness ahead. "Sims to me as there's something wrong in the works somewhere. I never see anything like this afore."
"Nor you can't see nothing like it behind, matey," said Wriggs. "It's like playing at Blind Man's Buff shut up in a water tank."
Another awful roar, ten times as deafening as that of the loudest peal of thunder, now struck them heavily--short, quick--sudden, but there was no echoing reverberation or rolling sound as with thunder, and now convinced that it could not be the effects of a thunderstorm, the mate turned to his companion, and said,--
"It's a big volcano hard at it somewhere, gentlemen, and these are not rain clouds shutting us in, but smoke."
"But what volcano can it be?" said Lane, as a peculiar nervous tremor attacked him.
"You tell me whereabouts we are, and I'll tell you what burning mountain that is. If you can't tell me, I can't tell you. Wait till the clouds open, and I'll get an observation. First thing, though, is to make sail and get away."
He knew the folly of his remark as he spoke, for the wind had completely dropped now, and it was noted as strange that no rush of air came after each explosion. There was the heavy concussion and then a terrible stillness, the air being perfectly motionless, and this appearing the more strange after the frightful tornado through which they had passed. Silence absolute, and a darkness as thick as that of the great plague of Egypt--a darkness that could be felt. And now, making no headway whatever, the vessel rolled heavily in the tossing waves, which boiled round them as it were, as if there were some violent disturbance going on far beneath the keel.
"I never see nought like this," whispered the first sailor Smith, as if he were afraid of his words being heard. "Ship's going it like a dumpling in a pot."
"And I never felt anything like it, gentlemen," said the mate in a low awe-stricken tone. "But we mustn't show any white feathers, eh, Mr Lane? Ah, Mr Drew, come to give us your opinion?"
This to the gentleman they had left in the cabin.
"I have come to bring terrible news, Mr Rimmer," said the fresh-comer, gravely. "A few minutes after you had left the cabin, Captain White rose suddenly upon his elbow. `Fetch Mr Rimmer,' he said; `no: don't leave me. He can do no good. It's all getting dark. Tell Mr Rimmer to do his best but I know he will. Stay with me to the last, Mr Drew.' I should have run and called for help, but it was all too plain, Mr Rimmer. He was dying, and directly after he sank back on his pillow, gave me one sad look as if to say good-bye, and all was