The Ghost Ship Part 15

"Then she really is there all right, my lad. Keep your eye on her."

The funnels had been emitting smoke for some time without our having paid much attention to the fact, the fires of the fore-boilers having been kept in and banked ever since our breakdown, in order to work the pumps and capstan gear when required; but now steam, I noticed, came out as well as smoke, and I could hear it plainly roaring up the waste pipe, besides making a fearful row.

Presently another sound greeted my ears and made me jump.

It was that of the electric bell in the wheel-house, giving warning that those below in the emporium wished to make some communication.

Mr Stokes went to the voice-tube that led down thither from the bridge.

"What's the matter?" he roared into the mouthpiece so loud that I heard every word he uttered, although a-top of the mast. "Anything wrong?"

I couldn't of course catch the reply that came up the pipe; and it certainly was not a satisfactory one, for Mr Stokes turned round at once to the skipper, who immediately stopped his quarter-deck walk to hear what the chief had to say.

"They've corrected the propeller, sir," he exclaimed with a chuckle that made his fat form shake all over; "and Stoddart says he's only waiting for your signal to close the stop valves and let the steam into the cylinder."

"By George, he shan't wait a minute longer!" cried Captain Applegarth, moving the engine-room telegraph. "Go ahead, my hearties, as soon as you please! Hullo, there, forrad, I want a hand here at the wheel. I suppose the steam steering gear is all right again now?"

"Oh, yes, sir," replied Mr Stokes to this. "Grummet fixed that up on Sunday afternoon, he told me. I am sure it was done. I remember he was doing it when that man-of-war came alongside and spoke you."

"Strange I didn't see him at the job; he must have been pretty smart over it!" replied the skipper. "But I'm very glad it is done, though."

In answer to the skipper's signal a sudden blast of steam rushed up the funnel abaft the wheel-house, and I could feel the s.h.i.+p tremble as the shaft began to revolve and the propeller blades splashed the water astern with the familiar "thump-thump, thump-thump."

All hands joined in a hearty cheer, to which Masters and I in the top lent what aid our lungs could give.

"Steady amids.h.i.+p, there," sang out the skipper as the old barquey forged ahead once more. "Steady, my man."

"Aye, aye, sir," answered the foremost hand, Parrell, who had come from the fo'c's'le to take the first "trick" at the steering wheel on the bridge. "Steady it is."

"How does the boat bear now, Haldane?"

"Two points off our starboard bow, sir," I replied to this hail of the skipper. "She's about three miles off, I think, sir."

"All right," he shouted back to me. "Port your helm, there!"

"Aye, aye, sir," repeated Parrell. "Port, sir, it is."

"We're rising her fast now, sir," I called out after a short interval.

"There's a man in the boat; yes, a man, sir. I can see him quite plainly now, and I'm sure I'm not mistaken!"

"Are you quite sure, my lad?"

"Quite sure, sir. And he's alive, too, I'm certain. Yes, sir; he moved then distinctly. I could see him plainly. Why, the boat is so near now that you ought to see it from the deck."

"And so I can, by Jingo, Haldane!" replied the captain, peering out ahead himself with a telescope from the end of the bridge. "I fancy I can see a second figure, and it looks like another man, too, lying down in the bows of the boat, as well as the figure at the stern, who seems to me to be holding up an oar or something!"

"Yes, there is, sir," I called out, stopping on my way down the rigging to have another look. After a pause I exclaimed, "I can see both of them, and with my naked eye. I can see them now!"

"Well, then, you'd better come down from aloft. Tell your friend, the boatswain, to come down as well. He'll be wanted at the fo'c's'le when we presently come up to the boat, as I trust we shall!"

"Lucky Masters saw the boat, sir," said I when I reached the deck and up to the skipper's side again. "But even more fortunate it is for the poor fellows that our engines are working again, sir, for otherwise we could not have been able to get up to the boat and save them."

"It isn't luck, my boy," observed Mr Stokes, whom the death of poor Jackson and his own narrow escape from a like fate had led to think of other matters besides those connected with his mundane profession.

"It's Providence!"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

AN APPEAL FOR AID.

"Aye, that's the better way of looking at it," chimed in the skipper, raising his arm at the same time from his station at the end of the bridge, where he was conning the s.h.i.+p. He then called out sharply, to enforce the signal.

"Luff up, you lubber, luff!"

"Luff it is, sir," rejoined the helmsman, rapidly turning round the spokes of the little steam steering wheel. "It's hard over now, sir."

"Steady there," next sang out the captain. "Steady, my man!"

"Aye, aye, sir," repeated the parrot-like Tom Parrell, bringing the helm amids.h.i.+ps again. "Steady it is!"

"By George, we're nearing the boat fast!" cried the skipper after another short pause, during which we had been going ahead full speed, with a quick "thump-thump, thump-thump" of the propeller and the water foaming past our bows. "Starboard, Parrell! Starboard a bit now!"

"Aye, aye, sir," came again the helmsman's answering cry from the wheel- house. "Starboard it is, sir!"

"Keep her so. A trifle more off. Steady!"

"Steady it is, sir!"

"Now down with it, Parrell!" sang out the skipper, bringing his hand instanter on the handle of the engine-room gong, which he sounded twice, directing those in charge below to reduce speed, while he hailed old Masters on the fo'c's'le. "Hi, bo'sun! Look-out there forrad with your rope's end to heave to the poor fellows! We're just coming alongside the boat."

"Aye, aye, sir!" replied Masters promptly, keeping one eye on the skipper on the bridge and the other directed to the little craft we were approaching, and now close to our port bow. "We're all ready forrad, sir. Mind you don't run her down, sir. She's nearly under our forefoot."

"All right, bo'sun," returned the skipper. "Port, Parrell!"

"Port it is, sir," repeated Tom Parrell. "Two points off."

"Steady, man, steady," continued the skipper, holding his hand up again.

"Boat ahoy! Stand by. We're going to throw you a rope!"

At the same instant Captain Applegarth sounded the engine-room gong again, bringing the _Star of the North_ to a dead stop as we steamed up to the boat slanting-wise, the steamer having just sufficient way on her when the screw shaft ceased revolving, to glide gently up to the very spot where the little floating waif was gently bobbing up and down on the wave right ahead of us, and barely half a dozen yards away, drifting, at the will of the wind, without any guidance from its occupants, who seemingly were unaware of our approach.

"Boat ahoy!" shouted the skipper once more, raising his voice to a louder key. "Look-out, there!"

The men in the bows of the boat still remained in the same att.i.tude, as if unconscious or dead; but the other in the stern-sheets appeared to hear the skipper's hail, for he half-turned his head and uttered a feeble sort of noise and made a feeble motion with one of his hands.

"Now's your time, bo'sun!" cried Captain Applegarth. "Heave that line, sharp!"