SCENE 2.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1634, 23 December 1882, Page 2 (Supplement)

SCENE 2.

The Bkipper had prophesied truly. The feale, gradually died out. By dusk the ship now close hauled, was laid to her course, anc running four knots to a steady north-weal breeze. Equally satisfactory was the evidenl exhaustion of the fire. The flames had ceased to belch forth, and naught but masses of smoke, carrying with it the sickening odoi of burnt oil, now passed from the fore hold. The skipper had the donkey engine at work, and poured water upon the fire without intermission. The ship, of course, was under light sail. The only hands available, to go aloft, consisted of Mat, Mr Folingsby, and Hannibal, the cook. As for the doctor, as he said, he would sooner roast or drown than venture up " them ladders, bedad." He served, however, to stand by the running gear on deck, while the skipper took the wheel. , That night few slept. A feeling of reaction served to banish all thought of repose. Not a soul there, but now acknowledged that, but a few hours back, there was absolutely no j promise of rescue. But now, that promise — j tangible and eloquent — had come to them ; j and the awe and humility which seize upon | those who have miraculously escaped from ! some graat jieril, animated each man and i woman's thought. Even Hannibal was unusually silent and meditative. " Guess it was a very close shave, sah, dats a fac," he said to Matthew Osgood. " Tell de truf sah, nebber spected to get clar ob dat trouble. Whew ! de planks forard, sah, is burnt right frew. Beckon we is in luck to hey iron stead of wood under us. Yah ! Yah !" And so they were. The iron plates had resisted the fire successfully, albeit they must have been subjected to a terrible test. And as the skipper had predicted, the conflagra- | tion burnt itself out. The cargo amidships consisted of machinery, bar iron, and railway plant. Little of an inflammable character was stowed theie. The devastation was, therefore, almost entirely confined to the forehold. Chiistmas day broke bright and cheery. The ship, although necessarily under short sail, bowled along merrily. The sky was [ cloudless. The breeze just ruffled the ocean. i It was a morning of hope and promise — as ! Helen Vigors said to Matthew Osgood. The j young man smiled sadly. " A bright augiuy for you, I hope, Miss Vigors," said he. " And why not for all of us" cried the , young ghl earnestly. " Surely we, com- ■ panions in a great peril, may well look upon our escape as providential. Hope, and a \ certain surety of future happiness, have sue- j ceeded upon despair." j She spoke eagerly, as one who had long : controlled emotion, and now, for the first time, gave it utterance and expression. Her ! cheeks were. flushed, and tears stood in her i eyes ; her sweet lips trembled. The young man sighed, and was silent. " It is such events as this," she presently j went on " which mould our lives. A few ; hours ago I was a timid, nerveless dreamer — a mere child. The strain and tension which I have gone through have aged me with exj>eiience. lam a woman." " A dainty one," laughed Mat. " Tush !" she said irritably. " A trace to compliments, master Matthew. Leave them to Mr. Polmgsby." j " Aye, aye," sighed Mat bitterly. He did not mark her quick and searching glance, and the sad light which came into her eyes, and found expression in the faintness of the smile aiound lier lips. " He is a brave man, I think," mused the giil aloud. " How cool and ready he was." j Mat did not answer. ! " And I like brave men. Do not you ?" she i asked, turning to Matthew, and putting the question direct. j , " All true men are brave," he answered suli lejnly." It is only fools and knaves who are debased by cowardice." ) " Perhaps so," she answered, " and yet many bad men lfave been heroes." j " Why not V" was the reply, — " the mere animal bravery which dares peril and beatfs it down, is no moral attribute. It is a gift jof neives and health. But that courage I which can bear and suffer, and be silent, is, j to my thought, true heroism." ; She looked at him with some surprise, i " Now, I wonder, master, Mat," said she, ! " what induced such a thought as that, altogether foreign to the event and its results, that prompted wine." " I do not know," he answered briskly. | " Nor does it mattei, Miss Helen. We sailors have strange fancies sometimes — bred and j nourished by the solitary hours we spend in i self-communion. But come — there is the bioakfast bell. I must relieve my uncle." With tins, he raised his cap, and walking aft, took thu wheel. She looked after him ; i I then tinned and descended into the cabin. 1 lier face was grave, and a troubled look lested in her eyes. " Keep her well to the wind, Mat," said the skipper. " I'll get Foling&by and the doctor to give me a hand to brace up the yards "—" — and the worthy gentleman called his crew on deck, and proceeded to haul on to the lee i braces. Then they went into the cabin for j bieakliibt, leaving Mat alone on deck — save foi the ship's dog, a noble Newfoundland, with one of those grave and contemplative faces which may so often be observed as belonging to animals of this race. That day Hannibal kept his word, and served up what was, under the circumstances, a light royal banquet. Imprimis, a pair of fowls. Item, a piece of pork. Item, some bouilli soup. Item, tinned peas, and asparagus. Item, a plum pudding with brandy sauce. Finally a prime dessert, two bottles of Madeira and a bottle of port for the ladies. " Well now," cried the doctor, as he surreptitiously loosened a button or two, " this is not so bad for shipwrecked people. I feel as comfortable, so I do, as I might at my greatgrandfather's booard; the more betoken, a pipe of clart was always on tap in the hall, and the divil a man left the table till he fell under it." The laugh with which the little doctor's quaint remarks were received was interrupted by a shout from Mat, who was at the wheel. " Sail ho I" cried he. All rushed on deok. " Where away, Mat?" asked the skipper. " There uncle, close on the weather bow. Didn't see her until the mist lifted." There, sure enough, was a fine, full-rigged ship, running right across the bows of the Hesperus. In an instant Captain Osgood had hoisted the Stars and Stripes, upside down, and filed a shot gun. The signal was seen and heard, and the stranger hauled her wind, and boie down on the port tack upon the Hesperus. She ran close enough to enable Captain Osgood to communicate their disaster ; and, backing her yards, lay to while a boat was despatched to the Hesperus. The captain of the stranger himself came on board. He was a little, round bellied, red faced, blue eyed man, in whose visage jollity and kindliness gleamed forth, a beacon to guide strangers to a perception of his disposition. He heard the story with concern. He, too, was bound for Melbourne. After he and Captain Osgood had concluded a talk, he proposed tb.at he should take on the passengers. " I can let you have- four or five hands," said he, " to help you- to work your ship. With this breeze you'd best run for Hobart Town. It will carry you there, I, should think, in three days." , The skipper promptly accepted this proposal. Going to the cabin, he informed the ladies, who at once set about to leave the Hesperus. Their preparations did not cost them much ' labor. Mrs. Vigors and her daughter merely carried with them the luggage they had in their cabin. Indeed, a? for the rest, it was a question as to whether it had escaped the fire. As for the doctor and Mr. Folingsby, they were old travellers, and so were ready for, the change at a moment's notice. At last all were ready. Mrs. Vigors, tremblingly eager to leave the ship, could not control herself sufficiently lo bid the skipper farewell. As f6r Matthew, she did not heed

jsFoii&gsj^yf^^^-ipH'e-youJig . man's jKan dit?>, 7; t •■'"^joodf-oyei'^said he. v'^We'-s^all '^et? again. - Keep this in memory,, of the 'regard I .have for you,"' and he slipped a signet ring upon the ydung man's finger. Then he turned to assist Helen Vigors to the boat. But she eluded his attention, and passed by to Matthew. " Good bye for the present," said she, in low and trembling tones. "We Shall meet again." " I think not," he answered, huskily. " And pardon me, if I add that I hope not." ' She looked at him in surprise. 41 Why?" she asked— and then, anticipating his answer, blushed hot red. She could have turned away. Bat he seized her hand. They stood apart and unobserved, save by Folingsby, who 1 , with a smile, noted and understood the position. " Helen," said poor Mat, "I must speak now. It is the last time we shall meet. But, in your happy future, think of me sometimes ; who, fool and madman as I am, dared to love i you. This is why I hope we now part for I ever. I love you"— and here he wrung herjhand, and then, in a paroxysm of passion, threw it aside. The girl stood motionless, and pale and breathless. Then, once more, she gave him hei hand. "Good-bye," she whispered. "May God for ever, dearest Mat, watch over and protect you." With this she left him and walked proudly to Mr. Folingsby, and stood by his side. She met his smile and meaning look undauntedly. He was too much a gentleman to venture upon banter. He took her hand. " Dear Helen, said he, " I know right well how you have been tried. He is a fine fellow." " A<3 you are a gentleman, sir," was her reply, " I command you to be silent." j Meanwhile, another little comedy, the author of which was also Dan Cupid, was being enacted behind the cuddy door. The actors were Hannibal, the cook, and Carlotta, the West Indian Mullato lady's maid. " By Golly, my heart am broke up, Missey Carlotta!" cried the negro earnestly. "Oh! you go away now!" said the lady, in whose eyes, however, the tender tears now glistened. " All de men tell dam lie 3. You no lub me. Say de same to any oder lady." " I ope I nebber make dough nuts again, Missey, ef I doan't lub you better nor de hull worl — dar 1 Oh, Missy, good-bye. Guess you might gib dis poor chile one litty kiss." 1

Whether MihS CarlotUS lioart was softened by this appeal, or that Hannibal, overcome by his grief and passion, took an affirmation for granted, I know not. Certain it is, however, that the two embraced and bade each other farewell, with as much fervour and tenderness as any that might have been felt and exhibited by more refined lovers. Carlotta was the last to leave the ship. Her big brown eyes were fixed upon her dusky lover. The tears rolled down her cheeks; her full lips quivered — the while poor Hannibal, the picture of grotesque misery, sat upon the ship's rail and blubbered like a schoolboy. But no one laughed at them. There was sadness in all hearts save, perhaps, in that muscular and fibrous organ which Mrs. Vigors claimed as heart. She, good lady, openly proclaimed her delight at leaving that horrible ship, and farther stated that in her belief and conscience, she considered that captain and owners should be held responsible for the disasters which had overtaken the Hesperus, and the still more important influence upon her nerves and mental health. While the John Adams was in sight, Matthew O3good, perched aloft, 'watched her through a glass. Was it comfort to him to know that Helen Vigors sat upon the deck of the strange vessel, returning his yearning gaze ? Was it comfort to Hannibal to know that so long as the flourish of a tablecloth could be discerned from the rigging of the Hesperus, a correspondent flutter from the fair hands of Carlotta acknowledged the salute? I think so. Four men volunteered from the John Adams to work the Hesperus into pirt. A fair wind and easy weather favoured this task, and five days after parting with her passengers, the gutted hull of the good- ship anchored off Battery Point in the Derwent.