CHAPTER XIV.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 8375, 22 July 1905, Page 1

CHAPTER XIV.

THE WAY THEY HAVE I3ST THE XAVT.

"Some people are never satisfied," fetid Pyn®, whilst he helped the oooks py smashing a. ham bone with, a hajniner.

The bone had been picked clean of meat e/ad marrow on the first day after the wreck, but it occurred to Enid that if it were broken up and • boiled she knight procure some sort of nourishment far the two children, who were fast running down in condition. " What ie the matter now?" inquirjßd Constance, whose attentive eyes were "hovering, between tixe cooking Stove and. a distilling kettle. All the flour and bisouite, witih the exception of two tins reserved for extremities, had been used. Sh-e was striving to ©onooofc cakes of ohoool-ate ous of cocoa, an article more plentiful than any otter food of its kind in ptock, but water could not be spared, and eating dry powder was difficult to parched palates. "There ere two tug-boats, a trawler and a Trinity service-boat not half a mile away," said Pyne, " and the cliffs at Land's End are peppered with people." " Surely that is satisfactory. Dad bold me that the Falcon signalled this paorning he was to expect a special feffort to be mad©= at half tide on the flow, and not on. the ebb, as was arranged yesterday. ''Yes, that is all right, so far as it goes," Pyne leaded forward witih the air of one about io impart information, ©f great value. * l But the extraordinary thing ia fhat whilst ev#ry man on board those vemsels is thinking _ like steam how best Ho get into the lighthouse, we are in-ofe* desperately anxious to get out of it. So, you sea, as I said before, some people " "Oh, dashl" cried Enid, "I've gone «nd burnt my finder all through listening to your nonsense." "Are there . really many people on ftfce cliffs?" demanded Constance. Pyne pounded the bone viciously. ; " I go out of jny way to inform you y>f a number of interesting and strictly accurate facts," he protested, "and ore of you burfts her fingers and the other doubts my word. Yet, if I called your sceptioism unfeeling, Miss Enid ■would be angry /" " I don't kno\K why kettle lids are bo (cantankerous," said Euid. " They jseem to get hot. long before the water floes." "The hot/teat part of any boil is on top," said Pynet ' Enid smiled Sorgiveness. "I believe yctu would be cheerful if you were goingj to be electrocuted," (She said pensively. "Yet, goodness knows, it is haajd to keep one's spirits np this morninja. The sea is as bad »-s Aver. What wilß become of us if we get no relief to-day I" . "Mr Pyne." Jlnterrupted Constance anddenly, "do }7ou think that any of the men can hate gained access to the Btorerooni during; the night?" " I oan'"t . say for sure," he replied. ''What has put that into your mind?" "The purser and I examined all that Mi as left this morning, and we both agreed that sotfae of the things bad disappeared. M is very strange." - Pyne was not wholly prepared for this mine being, sprung on him. So he essayed to gain time. "It doesn't .appeal to me in that light. There iwas a miscalculation about the wate} 1 . Why not about the food?" i

"Because my father went through tell the stores personally, and portioned them out. iSome flour and tinned meat have gon& ; I am quite sure of it. &."he question is», who can have taken them? The flour, at least, must have attracted attention if anybody tried to eat it.'*

"Did you saj|,r all that to the purfcer?" he asked, suspending "his labourß and looking at her steadily. " No. We ciQ'Uld not remember exttotly what prcj portion of the various articles there dught to be left."

"Then, take my advice, Miss ConRtanee, and kqsp on forgetting," he paid. A quick fludh oame into her pale bheeks

"You are- riot 'saying that without good cause?" .she murmured. " I have tlie best of reasons. If the ' least hint of such a thing goes round among the men there will be motions." Constance werot to the door and closed It,

"Enid," «&ej said, "I believe father fend Mr Pyne have got some dreadful Man in their minds which they dare tot tell us abput."

But the American was not to be cornered in such fashion. He opened the door again aiad went out, pausing on the threshold 1;o say :

"I wouldn'l; venture to guess what xnight be troubling Mr Brand, but you pan take it from me that what he says, goes. Talk aJbout grasping a nettle firmly, I believe your father would grab a scorpaan by the tail if he felt that way." And with Shis cryptio utterance he quitted them, intending to warn Brand at the first dpportunity that the time •was at hand when he must harden his heart and take the decisive step of cutting off communication between the Service room .and th« remainder of the building. , „ _, „ This could I>© done easily. The flanges of the uppermost iron staircase were screwed to tiie floor above and below. A few minuties' labour would re J?J? ve the screws 1 ; Jiie steps could be lifted bodily into the service-room and there utilised to se*vl the well. . " What a howling menagerie will break loose here when they find out, thought Pyn«-. " It's a hard thing to say, but w,a ought to have the door open. Quits a stack of folks will need to bo pitched outside. _ A comforting reflection truly, yet m face bore no token thereof as he Wned the lighthouse-keeper and seveSfS thl Olinook's officers and men ° n The e wlnd e 2^ Bhifted another couple of ponS to bne north, and the .sea, a P a?fc 01 from tho was runmng^m a heaw unbroken swell. Inat was tne •hfp'sboft, properly, managed could live in perfect' safety- in the open But the ifdjn-toothed reef, with its tortuous channels and bating cm> r«nts changing with every stage or tue tfdtsurrSund^ the pillar an ap naSntlv impassible barrier, whilst the ShoJse^tself offered as frowning a ; W> &als wera beias be.

tween the gallery and the Trinity tender. Brand seemed to be very emphatic in his answers to the communications made to him by Stanhope. "No, no," he muttered aloud, whilst the anxious man near him wondered why he was so impatient. "It is utterly impossible," he said again. "No boat can do it — someone should stop him — it means certain loss of life." "

At last, becoming aware that his companions could not understand what was going on, he turned to them with passionate explanation. " That brave fellow Stanhope says that, with two others at the oars, he intends to row near enough to the rock at half-flood to endeavour to spring on to the ladder. I cannot persuade him that no man has ever yet succeeded in such a mad project. Look below, and see how each wave climbs around eighteen or twenty feet of the base. The thing is wildly impracticable. He will be swept off and smashed to pieces before our eyes, even if the- boat escapes." " If the boat can come near enough for that purpose, couldn't we heave a line aboard of her?" asked one of the ship's officers. "We can try. I shall signal them to that effect. Anything is better than to sanction au attempt which is foredoomed to failure, and must result in the death of the man who tries it." Thereupon more energetic flag-waving took place. Finally Brand desisted in sheer exasperation. "I cannot convince him," he cried. "He has made up his mind. May the Lord preserve him from a peril which I consider to be a mortal one." "Has he put forward any theory?" asked Pyne. "He was doing a lot of talking." „ ■ . " Yes," explained Brand. '" He believes that a strong boat, rowed to the verge of the broken water, might watch her opportunity and dart in close to the ladder on the backwash of a big wave, allowing its successor to lift her high enough for an active man to jump on to the rungs. The rowers must pull for their lives tho instant, the wave breaks and leave him clinging ; to the ladder as best he can. There is more chanoq of success in that way, he thinks, than in trying to make fast a line thrown by us, even if it fell over the boat. ' It is all a question of time, he argues, and I have failed to convince him that not only he but his companions will be lost."

"Is there no chance?" inquired the second officer.

" Look below," repeated Brand hopelessly; and, indeed, when they obeyed him, craning their necks over the rail to examine "the seething cauldron from which the granite tower tapered up to them, no man could say that the lighthouse keeper deplored Stanhope's decision without good reason. They understood matters a little better, perhaps, when, one by one, they reentered the lantern, the Falcon having flitted away to make Her final preparations. Brand asked them not to make known the nature of the pending undertaking. "I? I thought it would do any good to the suffering people, I would gladly see them enlivened by the news," he said. "I confess, however, I expect nothing but disastrous failure — and— gentlemen — Lieutenant Stanhope is practically - engaged .. to ba mara-ied -to one of my daughters'.'' - "What was to be said? They quitted him in the silence that was the dominant note of their lives just then. Pyne alone remained. He wondered why one man should be called on to endure so much.

Though each of those present on the gallery was loyal to Brand's sorrowful request, it was impossible to prevent others from seeing that something of exceptional interest was in progress afloat and on the rock.

Brand did not know that the officials of the Trinity House had only agreed to help Stanhope's hazardous project under compulsion. The sailor informed them that he was determined .to carry oiifc his ficheine., with or without their assistance. So, when the Falcon, the tender, and a strong tug hired by Mr Traill, rounded the distant Carn'du headland at eleven o'clock, the lighthouse, keeper felt that further protest was unavailing. It behoved him to take all possible measures to help the men who were about to dare so much to help him.

In the first place, he caused a rope to be, strung from the gallery to the doorway. If any doubt were entertained as to the grave risk attending Stanhope's enterprise, it was promptly dispelled by the extreme difficulty met with in accomplishing this comparatively simple task. Even a heavy piece ot wood, slung to the end of. the ninety odd feet of cord necessary, did not prevent the wind from lashing the weighted end in furious plunges seaward. At lapt, a sailor caught the swinging block with a boathook. The man would have been carried away by a climbing wave had not his mates perceived his danger and held him. Then two life-buoys were attached to other ropes, in case there might he some slight chance of using them. The tackle which the unfortunate captain of the Chinook had cast adrift was utilised to construct safety lines in the entrance way. Loops were fastened to them, in which six of the strongest men available were 6ecured against the chance of being swepb through the door to instant death.

Meanwhile, the three vessels had steamed close to the mooring-buoy, which, it will be remembered, lay in full view of the kitchen window. Constance gave them a casual glance. Being versed in the ways of the sea, she instantly discovered that some unusual event was astir.

She called her sister's attention to the manceuvres of the steamers; one, the Trinity tender, lay broadside on to the incoming tide.

" They are lowering a boat, I do de-: dare, 33 she announced, after they had watched the proceedings for a little while with growing curiosity. At the distance, nearly six hundred yards, it was difficult to discern . exactly what was taking place. " No boat can live if it comes near the rock/ 1 cried Enid. And then a wild thought brought her heart to her mouth. "Ob, Connie," she cried, in a sudden access of terror, "I feel sure that jack is doing something desperate to cave us. Dad knows. They all know, but they would not tell us. That is why Mr Pyne has not been near us for hours. 3 ' " "It caimct be. No one would permit it. Father would never give his sanction. Enid, my dear one, why do you say suoh things. You frighten But Constance's lips were bloodless and her eyes dilated with fear which she, too, would fain . They were perched co high above too sea that the dancing hillocks of green water could not wholly obscure the stoutly-built craft which bobbed into startling prominence round the stern of the tender. , „, ■ "It is, it is 1" shrieked Enid. "Look, Connie! There is Jack kneeling in the bows. Oh, dear, oh dear ! Is he ■madf Wiy don't they stop. tomP 2

cannot bear to look. Connie, toll me — shall I sco him drowned before my

eyes? The girl was distraught-, and her sister was in little bett-er plight. Fascinated, speechless, clinging to each other like panic-stricken children, they followed tho leaping boat with the glassy stare of those who gaze, open-eyed, at remorseless death. They scarce understood what was •toward

As the boat, a strong craft, yet such a mere speck of staunch life in the tumbling seas, was steadily impelled nearer, they jar,- the tug lurch ahead of the other vessels until a lino .was thrown and caught by Stanhope, who instantly fastened it round his waist. The rowers wore cork jackets, but he was quite unprotected. Bare-headed, with his well-knit limbs shielded only by a jersey, loose-fitting trousers, and canvas shoes— he bad declined to hamper his freedom of movement with the cumbrous equipment so essential for anyone who might be cast adrift in that dreadful sea.

The girls, even in their dumb agon.y, were dully conscious of a scurry up and down the stairs. What did it matter? They paid heed to naught save the advancing boat, now deep in the trough of a "Rave, now perched precariously on a lofty crest. Whoever the rowers were, they trusted wholly to the instructions given by the gallant youth who peered so boldly into the wilderness'ahead. The flying foam and hightossed spray gave the lighthouse the semblance of alternately lifting and lowering its huge framo amidst the furious torrents that encircled it. Nerves of steel, strong hearts and true wero needed by those who would voluntarily enter that watery inferno.

Yet the men at the oars did not falter nor turn their heads. They pulled evenly and well, with the, short, deepsunken stroke of the fisherman, and Stanhope, now that they were almost iv the vortex where the waves lost their regularity, produced a paddle wherewith to twist the boat's head to meet each turn and swirl.

Stealthily the powerful tug-boat crept in the wake of the smaller craft, until it became clear to the girls' strained vision that watchful helpers, lashed in the vessel's bc-ws, were manipulating another rope as a drag, thus helping the sailor's efforts to prevent his frail argosy from being swamped by a breaking sea.

Then a miraclo did happen, a. miracle of science. When the boat was yet two hundred yards away, Brand, looking out from the gallery in stony despair, suddenly behaved as one possessed of a fiend.

"Follow me!" he roared. "Come, every man !"

He rushed into the lantern. As if he wanted wings rather than- limbs, he 3wung himself by. his hands to the floor of the service-room.

Galvanized into activity, those who wero with him ' on the ledge raced after him. They knew not what had happened. Their, leader had spoken, and they obeyed.

Down, down, they pelted, taking the stair 3 with breakneck speed, until -they reached the oil-room, with its thousands of gallons stored in great tanks. Big empty tins stood there, awaiting the next visit of the tender, and Brand wrenched the cover off the nearest cistern. He scooped up a tinful of the oil.

" Bring all you can carry," he shouted, and was off again with an energy that was wonderful in a man who had endured the privations and hardships of co many hours.

They understood. Why had none of them thought of it earlier ? In its cold granite depths the lighthouse carried that which had the power to subdue the roaring fury of the reef . The first man to reach the gallery after Brand was Pyne, who chanced to be nearest to him when the hubbub arose. He found the other man flinging handfuls of oil as fair to windward as the thick fluid would travel.

"Quick l" gasped Brand. "Don't pour it out. It must be scattered. "■

So the ©olza fell in little patches of smooth tranquility into the white void beneath, and, before Stanhope had piloted his boat half the remaining distance, the wave-currents surging about the rock ceased to toss their yellow manes so high and the high-pitched masses of foam vanished completely. The seamen stationed in the entrance were astonished by the rapidity of the change. In less than a minute they found they were no longer blinded by the spindrift cast by each upward rush right into the interior of the lighthouse. The two nearest to the door looked out in wonderment. What devilment was the reef hatching now, that its claws should relax their clutch on the pillar and its icy 6pray be withheld?

Each wave, as it struck to westward of the column, divided itself into two roaring streams whioh met exactly where the iron rungs ran down the wall. There was a mighty clash of the opposing forces, and a further upward rearing of shattered torrents before the re-united mass fell away to give place to its successor

Full twenty feet of the granite laj'ei^a were thus submerged and exposed -whenever a big comber travelled sheer over the reef.

But thse straightforward attacks were spasmodic. Often the eddies created by the rocks came tumbling pell-mell from the north. Sometimes they would combine with the incoming tide, and then the water seemed to cling tenaciously to the side of the lighthouse until it rose to a great height, swamping the entrance, and <koppiug back with a tremendous crash There were times "when the northerly ally disdained to merge with its rival. Then it leaped in ; to the hollow created by the receding Avave, and all about the lighthouse warred a level whirlpool. Stanhope's plan was to rush. the boat in when one of these comparatively less dangerous opportunities offered. He would spring for the ladder, run up if possible, but, if caught by a "vaulting breaker, lock himself with hands and feet in the iron rungs and endeavour to withstand the stifling embrace of the oncoming eea. . He was suro he could hold out against that furious onslaught,, once at .lea?t> He was an expert swimmer and direr, and he believed that by clinging limpet-like to the face of the rock, h© had the requisite strength of lungs and sinews to resist one if not more of those watery avalanches. .

The rope around his waist was held from the tug. The instant be made his leap, the man 'with him wero to back 'water, th© crew at the drag to haul for all they were worth, and consequently pull the boat clear of, the next wave ere it broke. That is why he &c* lected a handy craft in place of the lifeboat, offered to him as soon as his resolve was whjjepered ashore. It was <tti rapidity, iqutoJE judgment, the trtili-

sation of seconds, that ho depended. The. unwieldy bulk of the lifeboat not only detracted from those all-important considerations, but made it more than probable that she would be capaia^d or touch the reef.

For the same reason ho timed lik approach on tht> rising tide. Ho could venture nearer to the lighthouse itself, and tho boat could be rowed and draggod more speedily into safety. With him, too, were men who knew every inch of the Gulf Rock. He knew he could trust them to the end.

Although lie had mapped ont his/programme to th& last detail, Brands inspiration in using the* oil created a fresh and utterly unforeseen set of conditions.

Mountainous ridges still danced fantastically up and down the smooth granite slopes, but they no longer broke, and it is broken water, not tumultuously heavy seas, tliafc an open boat must fear.

With the intuition of a born sailor, ready to saiae any advantage given by human energy or angry ocean, Stanhope decided, in the very jaws of the opportunity, to abandon his original design totally and shout to the men ho saw standing in the entrance to heavo him a ropo. He would have preferred the danger of a jump. He almost longed to endure tho fierce struggle which must ensue before lie reached those waiting hands. He thought he would have his rev/ard in the tenso joy of the fight, in bringing salvation to Enid ami those with her, in seeing her sweet face again after those days and nights of vigil. But the* paramount need. was to succeed. The extraordinary, and, to him, quite inexplicable, change in conditions which he had studied during tortured hours passed on the bridge of the Falcon or the Trinity tender, made it possible to remain longer in the vicinity of the rook than he had dared to Hope. Therefore ho knew it was advisable to adopt the certain means of communication of the thrown rope in preference to the uncertainty of his own power to reach and climb the la-dder.

Flinging out liis right arm, he motioned to the men in the lighthouse f o be ready to heave a coil. The wind was the chief trouble now, but he must chance that.

" 'Vast pulling," he yelled over his shoulder as a monstrous wave pranoed over the reef and enveloped tho column.

" Ay, ay," eang out his crew. Up went the boat on the crest, and a fearsome cavern spread before his eyes, revealing the seaweed that clung to the lowest tier of masonry. In the same instant he caught a fleeting glimpse of a lofty billow rearing back from the rocks on the north. Down sank the boat until the door of the lighthouse seemed to be an awful distance away. She rose again, and Stanhope stood upright, his knees wedged against the wooden ribs. One piercing glance in front and another to the right showed that the antagonism of the two volumes of water gave the expected lull. "Pull I"

The boat shot onward. Once, twice, three times, the oars dipped with precision. These rowers, who went with their backs turned to what might' be instant death, were brave and staunch as h& who looked it unflinchingly in the face. " Heave !" roared Stanhope to the white-visagcd second officer standing in the doorway far above him. The rope whirred through the air, the boat rose still higher to meet it, and the coil struck Stanhope in the face, lashing him savagely in the final spite of the baffled gale which puny man had conquered. Never was blow taken with such Christian charity. "Back*!" he cried, and the oarsmen, not knowing what had happened, bent against the tough blades. The tug's sailors at the drag, though the engines, grinding at half-speed, were keeping them grandly against the race not more than a hundred and fifty yards in the rear, failed for an instant to understand what was going on. But their captain had seen the case and read its significance. " Haul away I" he bellowed in a voice of thunder, and, to" cheer them on, added other words which showed that he was no landsman. Stanhope deftly knotted the lighthouse lino to the loop taken off his waist. He cast the joined cords over-

board. , , "Thank God!" ho said, and he looked up at the great pillar already growing less in the distance. Now, from the kitchen, owing to its height above sea level and the thickness of the wall pierced by the window, as soon as the boat came within fifty yards cr so of the lighthouse the girls could see it no longer. When it dropped out of sight for the last time, Constance could not enduro the strain. Though her dry tonguo clicked in her mouth she forced a despairing cry. "Enid," she screamed, "lean out through tho window. It is. your place. _ : "I cannot. Indeed, I cannot. He will be killed. Oh, savo him, kind Providence, and take my life in his stead!" ■ , , . , .. . Constance lifted the frenzied girl in her strong arms. This was no moment 'for puling fear. "If I loved a man," she cried, and ho were about to die ' for my _sake, I should count it a glory to see him die. The brave words gave Enid some measure of comprehension. Yes, that was it She would watch her lover whilst he faced death, even though her heart stepped beating when the end came. Helped by her sister, she opened the window and thrust her head out. To her half-dazed brain came the consciousness + hat the sea had lost its venom. She saw the boat come .on, pause, leap forward, the rope thrown, and the knot As the boat retreated she caught Stanhope's joyous glance. He saw her and waved his hand, foometlung he said caused the two rowers, for the first time to give one quick glance backward, for they were now scudding rapidly away from the danger zone. She knew them; she managed to send a frantic recognition of all three. Then in an almost overpowering reaction 'she drew back from the window and tears of divine relief streamed from her eyes". *_■•■,,,■, , "Constance," she sobbed,. "he has saved us- Look out. You will see him. Yet, all- tremulous and breathless, she brushed away the. tears and strove to distinguish the boat once- more. It appeared a vagus blot in the mist that enshrouded her. "Connie," she said again, "tell me that all is well." _ ; "Yes dear. Indeed, indeed^ he is safe." , ■■.■■■ • ' "And do you know who came with him? I saw their faces— Ben Pollard i-.nd Jim Spenoe— in the Daisy. Yee, it is true. And Jack planned it with them. They have escaped _: and we, too, will be rescued. It is God s own doing; I could thank him on my knees for the rest of nrylife." .