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Show I DICK RODNEY; If S Or. The Adventures of J ; An Eton Boy... S m ) BY JAMES GRANT. there were not less "thaThT 1 In sight of the vessel which picked" UPtT r 9 i- CHAPTER IV. :-' I-" The Eugenie. ': After being conveyed on board v brandy punch was readily administer! to me; all my wet clothes were tak off, and I was put into a snug i)er.? the cozy warmth of which, togeth with the effect of the steaming punch!' "a stiff nor'wester," as I heard it called and the toil and misery, mental and bodily, I had undergone, all conduced to give me a long and almost dreamless dream-less slumber. Thus the noon of the next day was far advanced before I awoke to the realities of life and a consideration of the awkward predicament predica-ment In which I was placed. I had been picked up by the Eugenie a new brig of 250 tons register, "coppered "cop-pered to the bends, and standing A-l at Lloyds," as I was Informed by Samuel Sam-uel Weston, her master. He added that she had a crew of twelve hands men and boys, exclusive of Marc Hls-lop, Hls-lop, the mate, and Tattooed Tom, his assistant, and that the brig had the reputation of being one of the best sailing out of London. The morning was fine and warm; the skylight was open, and a pleasant current cur-rent of air passed through the clean wainscoted cabin. A spotless white cloth was on the table, across which there were lashed certain bars of wood technically termed a fiddle, to keep the plates and glasses from falling to leeward; and on looking from my curtained cur-tained berth (for I was not permitted to rise) I saw the captain and mate at lunch over brandy and water, biscuits and cheese; and busy the while with charts and compasses, as they were comparing their nautical notes and observations. ob-servations. The brig seemed to be running steadily stead-ily through the water upon the starboard star-board tack, and I could hear the gurgle of the sea under her counter, as it bubbled bub-bled away in the wake astern In fact, the sound seemed to be just a foot above my ear, realizing the terrible idea that there was "only a plank between be-tween me and eternity." Capt. Samuel Weston was a well-made well-made man of middle hight, and somewhere some-where about forty years of age. He was rather grave than jovial in manner, man-ner, but pleasant, kind and gentlemanly. gentleman-ly. There was nothing about him that particularly indicated the seaman, and he never used startling adjectives, or, according to the proverbial idea, Interlarded Inter-larded his conversation with obscure nautical phraseology. He wore a short pea-coat with brass buttons, and a straw hat. A handsome gold ring secured his necktie, and the fag-end of a cheroot was between his teeth. He was exactly portrayed thus in his colored calotype, which was framed and screwed into the bulkhead Close by it was another of a lady with a little boy, standing at the base o a column, which of course had a crimson curtain festooned behind it; and they, I had no doubt, were his wife and child. So Capt. Weston or, as he preferred to call himself, Sam Weston was more domestic in his tastes than those who usually live by salt water are supposed sup-posed to be. Neither was there anything particularly partic-ularly nautical in the appearance of the mate, who was a smart and athletic young fellow, about five-and-twenty years of age, with somewhat of a Glasgow Glas-gow accent, keen gray eyes and sandy-colored sandy-colored hair; and he it was (though I was not aware of it then, or for long after) who boldly plunged into the stormy sea, and swam to the foundering founder-ing schooner, and finding that I could neither understand nor obey instructions, instruc-tions, had made a line fast to my waist, and thus conveyed me safely into the boat; so to this young Scotchman I owed my life and a debt of gratitude (To be continued.) CHAPTER II.--(Continued.) Now I began to be assailed by that Illness, which terror and anxiety had hitherto but partially repressed a violent vio-lent seasickness in all its horror. Afraid of being washed from the deck, over which the waves were breaking now, once more I crept In wretchedness below. Before descending, I cast a despairing despair-ing glance at the loosening sail which still caught the wind; it was a source of increasing clanger which I dared not attempt to remedy, even had I strength to have done so, for the wet deck was now sloping like the roof of a house, and I would assuredly have fallen Into the sea to leeward. After several feeble efforts, I succeeded in partially closing the companion hatch, for warmth and security, and, descending, threw myself on the cabin floor, sick and despairing. The lurching of the vessel, the closeness close-ness of the atmosphere, and general ouor of the cabin, overpowered me at last; I became fearfully ill, and from being so, lapsed Into unconsciousness, after enduring all the wretchedness Induced In-duced by that ailment of the ocean. For the top of my head seemed about to fly off, its sides to be crushed in; there was a singing in my ears, an ache in my eyeballs; and tlien came that awful sinking of the pulses, of the body, of the soul itself which thousands thou-sands have endured in cases of aggravated aggra-vated sea-sickness, but none has been able to depict. In short, after a paroxysm of illness and tears, I became totally unconscious of the peril and horror of my situation, and found a refuge in sleep. CHAPTER III. Useless Regrets. I must have lain long thus. On recovering, re-covering, I rose more stiff and more benumbed than ever, and with feeble steps ascended the companion ladder, and then a cry of despair escaped me. The sky was clear and sunny, but whether with the light of a rising or a setting sun, I could not at first determine, deter-mine, morning and evening on the ocean being so much alike to an un-practiced un-practiced eye. Not a vestige of land was visible! Sea and sky were around me; not a sail was in sight4 and nothing living was near, save a few petrels tripping over the water, alongside of the fatal schooner. Had I slept all night, and was this the dawn of a new day? Had I slept all day, and was this the approach of another night? I devoutly hoped not, as I most dreaded night upon the ocean; but the gradual sinking of the sun, and the increasing redness of the sky, ere long informed me that the time was evening. I now knew the west, and turned my haggard eyes to the south, for there the land and my home lay; but still the envious wind, though lighter now, seemed to blow from that quarter. Oh! how deeply and earnestly, by thoughts unuttered, I prayed in my heart that it would change and blow toward the shore any shore or any part of the coast of England, and bring me so near that I might have a chance of escape of life and preservation, preserva-tion, by swimming by putting to the test that skill and those powers of activity ac-tivity I had acquired at Eton, in tlie waters of the Thames. The sea was comparatively smooth, but still the empty schooner rolled and lurched fearfully; the more so that the fore and aft foresail was hanging so loosely in the brails. A hundred years seemed to have elapsed since I had heard the dear voices and seen the loved faces of those I had left at home of my father, my mother, of Dot and of Sybil; while the events of my early schoolboy days seemed to have occurred but yesterday. All time was chaos and confusion! In my sorrow and despair I never thought, unless with anger, of Jan van Zeervogel, the poor Dutch skipper, whose interests were so much involved with the loss or safety of his little schooner, with which the flood tide had made so free. I thought only of my own danger, and my mother's sorrow for the mystery that would overhang my fate. Now hunger assailed me, creating a new terror lest I should perish by want of food; and all I had read or heard of wrecks, rafts and castaways crowded on my memory to aggravate the real perils which surrounded me. Once more I sought the cabin, and on finding an ax broke open what appeared ap-peared to be a press or locker. Therein There-in were several cups, bottles and drinking drink-ing glasses, placed in perforated shelves; but nothing eatable save a single sin-gle hard and moldy biscuit, which the rats abandoned on my approach, and nothing drinkable save the remains of the brandy in which the peaches had been preserved and I viewed the jar with horror, as the primary cause of all my sufferings and dangers I say the remains, for it had fallen from the table ta-ble and been broken to pieces; so nothing noth-ing remained of its contents, except about a gill in a fragment, and the peaches which lay In the lee or lower side of the cabin. What would I not have given for a single drop of pure cold water, to alleviate alle-viate that choking thirst which is ever the sequel to sickness, excitement and sorrow! But there was not a drop on board, as the scuttle-butt had broken Its lashings In one of the lurches of the schooner and fallen overboard to leeward. lee-ward. So I soaked the moldy biscuit in the brandy, ate it, and went on deck, in time to see the sun set at the watery horizon, from whence it cast a long and tremulous line of yellow splendor along the dancing waves, to where the schooner floated in her loneliness. Night followed, and one by one the stars appeared In the mighty blue dome overhead; there was no moon as yet, and I thought of hoisting a light at the mainmast head, but where were a lantern lan-tern and matches to be found? I thought also of lifting the fore-hatch fore-hatch to explore the forepart of the schooner, but I felt too feeble and sick at heart, and now with the coming of the shadow of night a ghost story of the Dutch skipper recurred to me. Thirst was now becoming an agony, and I inhaled the dewy atmosphere In vain, for its property was saline, and seemed to make my sufferings greater; but happily it induced a drowsiness. I crept below, and seeking the bed in the captain's berth, drew the clothes over me and strove to sleep and so weary was I that sleep came. How long I slept I do not know, but I was suddenly roused by a violent lurch of the schooner. On reaching the deck, I found that a gale had again come on, and that the sea was whitened with foam, amid which the seabirds were blown wildly hither and thither; that the moon was now on the wane, and shed a cold, weird light between the black masses of flying scud, upon the tumbling billows bil-lows and the empty schooner, which yet floated buoyantly enough. But she now careened fearfully to port. I foresaw fore-saw that unless the masts were cut away a capsize was inevitable, for the wild wind howled over the waste of seething water, and the schooner groaned and trembled as wave after wave thundered on her empty and resounding re-sounding hull. Notwithstanding my weakness, I endeavored en-deavored to tighten the brailing of the fore and aft foresail; but how vain was the attempt! The moment I removed re-moved the rope from the belaying pin it was torn from my hand; the whole sail fell heavily loose, and swelled out upon the wind. It flapped with a sound like thunder in the blast, and in a moment the deck seemed to pass from under my feet, and I was struggling strug-gling alone in the midnight sea. To the horror of being drowned was now added that of being devoured by the fishes. A cry to heaven escaped me, as I rose panting and almost breathless and struck out to prolong existence. The sea repelled and buoyed me up, for it is by no means so easy to sink as many persons imagine. The schooner was lying now completely com-pletely on her beam ends to port; her masts and half her deck were in the water. It had filled the body of the loosened sail, and served to keep her steady, but still the waves washed wildly over the hull. I knew she must soon fill and go down; yet so strong is the instinct of self-preservation that I soon reached the foremast, climbed into the now horizontal rigging, and seated myself on the row of dead eyes, through which the shrouds are rove, clutching them with wild tenacity, while drenched, cold, and despairing. The spray flew over me, thick as rain, but bitter, heavy and blinding. How long I could have survived I know not; but I felt as one in a dreadful dread-ful dream and acted with the decision and firmness with which we often seem to acquaint ourselves amid the most fantastic situations created by the fancy in sleep. Suddenly, amid the stupor that was coming over me, I heard a voice and saw a large brig looming between me and the pale, waning moon. She was close by, with her courses, topsails, jib and fore-and-aft mainsail set, but with her foreyard laid to the wind as she lay to. Then I heard the rattle of the blocks and tackle, as a boat descended from the stern davits with a splash into the sea. "Cheerily, now, my lads, give way!" cried the voice I had heard before; "pull to windward round this craft, and overhaul her." "There's a man in the fore-rigging! " cried another. "Then stand by in the bow with the boat-hook." I strove to speak, to shout; but my voice was gone. "Spring into the sea," cried a voice; "do you hear me, you sir you in the fore-rigging there? Jump in; we cannot can-not sheer alongside a craft that pitches about like a cork in such a sea as this." "Don't fear, my lad," cried others; we'll pick you up." But I was powerless, blinded by spray; and though unable to respond, clutched the rattling with fatuous energy. en-ergy. Then strong hands were laid upon me, and I felt myself dragged into the boat. "Shove off shove off-give way! this craft will sink In a minute," cried some one; "give way for the brig!" and just as they turned the head of the boat toward to-ward their vessel, the Dutch schooner appeared to right herself; there was a crash as her deck burst up, and then a sob seemed to mingle with the air that was expelled from her hold as she filled and went down like a stone Though I had been so long unseen, , I afterward learned that ut this time |