Story of Chester Lawrence | Page 4

storm at sea. The world
about the ship is in wild commotion. The sky seems to have dropped
into the sea, and now joins the roaring waves as they rush along. The
blackness of the night is impenetrable, save as the lights from the ship
gleam for an instant into the moving mass of water. Now and then a
wave, rearing its crested head higher than the rest, breaks in spray upon
the deck. The wind seems eager to hurl every movable object from the
vessel, but as everything is fast, it must be content to shriek in the
rigging and to sweep out into the darkness, and lend its madness to the
sea and sky.

But let us leave this awe-inspiring uproar and go down into the saloon.
Here we come into another world, a world of light and peace and
contentment. The drawn curtains exclude the sight of the angry
elements without, and save for the gentle rocking of the ship and the
occasional splashing of water against its sides, we can easily imagine
that we are a thousand miles from the sea. Passengers sit at the long
tables, reading or chatting. Other groups are playing cards or chess. In
the cushioned corners, young men and maidens are exchanging banter
with words and glances. A young lady is playing the piano, and over all
this scene of life, and light, and gaiety, the electric lamps gleam in
steady splendor.
Elder Malby soon retired. Chester remained in the saloon for a time,
studying the various aspects of life about him; then he made a
good-night visit to the deck. He looked into the men's smoking room,
where a few yet sat with pipes and beer, playing cards. Among them
were two men, fat-cheeked, smoothly shaven, who were dressed in
priestly garb. There was an expressive American in the company, an
Englishman and a quiet German. Before the American could carry into
effect his intention of asking Chester to join them, the latter had passed
by and out beyond the stench of the tobacco smoke.
"This air, washed clean by a thousand miles of scouring waves, is good
enough for me," thought he.
The wind was not blowing so hard. The sky was nearly clear of clouds.
The moon hung full and bright above the heaving horizon. Here was
another aspect of the wonderful sea, and Chester lingered to get its full
beauty. The steamer rolled heavily between the big waves. The young
man leaned on the railing, and watched the ship's deck dip nearly to the
water, then heave back until the iron sides were exposed nearly to the
keel.
Chester was about to turn in for the night when he heard a commotion,
apparently among the third class passengers. He walked along to where
he could look down on the forward main deck. A number of people
were running about shouting excitedly. Chester ran down the steps to
get a nearer view.

"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I don't know. Someone overboard, I think."
People were crowding to the rail at the extreme forward end of the ship.
Someone with authority was trying to push them back, using the
old-fashioned ship-board language to aid him. Chester drew near
enough not to be in the way, but so that he could observe what was
going on. By leaning well over the rail, he could see what appeared to
be two persons clinging to the anchor, which hung on the ship's side,
about half-way down to the water. One was a dark figure, the other
appeared in the moonlight to be a woman dressed in white. Other
ships-men now rushed up.
"Clear way here! Where's the rope? Hang on, my man; we'll soon get
you"--this down the side of the ship. There came some words in reply,
but Chester did not hear them. A rope was lowered. "Slip the loop
around the lady," was the order from above. The man on the anchor
tried to obey. He moved as if cautiously and slowly. "Hurry, my man!"
But there was no haste. Limbs and fingers made stiff by long exposure
and cramped position, clinging desperately to prevent himself and his
burden from falling into the sea, were not now likely to be nimble; but
in a few minutes, which, however, seemed a long time, some words
were spoken by the man on the anchor, the command to haul in was
given, and slowly the nearly-unconscious form of a young woman was
drawn up to safety.
"Now, my man, your next," shouted the officer. The rope soon dangled
down again, the man reached out a hand for it. The ship cut into a big
wave, whose crest touched the man below. He grasped wildly for the
rope, missed it, and fell with a cry