Saved by the Lifeboat | Page 9

something, bound for China. We have been boarded by pirates: we have been all locked into the cabin, with the assurance that we shall be made to walk the plank in half an hour. Our last act is to put this in a bottle and drop it overboard. Farewell, for this world, my beloved wife and son.'
"`DANIEL BOYNS, Captain.'"
This letter was forwarded to the owner, and by him was sent to poor Mrs Boyns.
Alas! how many sailors' wives, in our sea-girt isle, have received similar "messages from the sea," and lived under the dark cloud of never-ending suspense--hoping against hope that the dear lost ones might yet return!
CHAPTER THREE.
SHOWS WHAT SOME MEN WILL DO AND DARE FOR MONEY, AND WHAT SOMETIMES COMES OF IT.
We must now beg the reader's permission to allow a few more years to elapse. Eight have come and gone since the dark day when poor Mrs Boyns received that message from the sea, which cast a permanent cloud over her life. Annie Webster has become a beautiful woman, and Harry Boyns a bronzed stalwart man.
But things have changed with time. These two seldom meet now, in consequence of the frequent absence of the latter on long voyages, and when they do meet, there is not the free, frank intercourse that there used to be. In fact, Mr Webster had long ago begun to suspect that his daughter's regard for the handsome young sailor was of a nature that bade fair to interfere with his purposed mercantile transactions in reference to her, so he wisely sent him off on voyages of considerable length, hoping that he might chance to meet with the same fate as his father, and wound up by placing him in command of one of his largest and most unseaworthy East Indiamen, in the full expectation that both captain and vessel would go to the bottom together, and thus enable him, at one stroke, to make a good round sum out of the insurance offices, and get rid of a troublesome servant!
Gloating over these and kindred subjects, Mr Webster sat one morning in his office mending a pen, and smiling in a sardonic fashion to the portrait of his deceased wife's father, when a tap came to the door, and Harry Boyns entered.
"I have come, sir," he said, "to tell you that the repairs done to the Swordfish are not by any means sufficient. There are at least--"
"Please do not waste time, Captain Boyns, by entering upon details," said Mr Webster, interrupting him with a bland smile: "I am really quite ignorant of the technicalities of shipbuilding. If you will state the matter to Mr Cooper, whom I employ expressly for--"
"But, sir," interrupted Harry, with some warmth, "I have spoken to Mr Cooper, and he says the repairs are quite sufficient."
"Well, then, I suppose they are so."
"I assure you, sir," rejoined Harry, "they are not; and as the lives of passengers as well as men depend upon the vessel being in a seaworthy condition, I do trust that you will have her examined by some one more competent to judge than Mr Cooper."
"I have no doubt of Mr Cooper's competence," returned Mr Webster; "but I will order a further examination, as you seem so anxious about it. Meanwhile I hope that the ship is being got ready for sea as quickly as possible."
"There shall be no delay on my part, sir," said Harry, rising; "the ship has been removed from the Birkenhead Docks, in which you are aware she has lain for the last eight months, and is now lying in the Brunswick Dock, taking in cargo. But I think it a very serious matter, which demands looking into, the fact that she had no sooner grounded in the dock, than she sprang a leak which instantly let twenty-eight inches of water into her, and twice, subsequently, as much as forty inches have been sounded. Yet no repairs worthy of the name have been made. All that has been done is the pumping of her out daily by the stevedore's men when their stowing work is finished."
"Has the agent for the underwriters visited her?" inquired Mr Webster.
"He has, sir, but he seems to be of opinion that his responsibility is at an end because a surveyor from the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board had previously visited her, and directed that she should not be loaded deeper than twenty-one feet--chalking on the side amidships the six feet six inches clear beneath which she is not to be allowed to sink."
"Well, well," said Mr Webster, somewhat impatiently, "I will have the matter looked into. Good morning, Captain Boyns."
The captain bowed and left the office, and Mr Webster leant back in his chair, clasped his hands, twirled his thumbs, and smiled grimly at the old gentleman over