THE DIVER.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 36, 5 September 1891, Page 336

THE DIVER.

f, O, Bob, I won’t send you down to that wrecked steamer. I’ll let you relieve Harris on the seawall and he can go to the steamer.’ * But do you think that is using me just right, Mr Tompkins?’ asked the young diver. ‘l’ve r always had reason to suppose that I have done your deep water work satisfactorily, and I feel as if this job by right belongs to me.’ ‘ Yes, Bob, you have always done well. I consider you as good a man as ever made a dip. But I’d rather you wouldn’t tackle this wreck.’ * I know your reasons,’ replied Bob, with his eyes keenly fixer! upon his employer’s face. ‘My tender has told you that Jennie was coming on board this steamer, and you fear I will find her body among the dead. Is it not so sir.’ ‘ Well, to tell you the truth, it is something like that,’ answered Mr Tompkins with hesitation. ‘Then you need have no apprehensions, as I do not expect my wife for two weeks yet.’

‘ Ah, that makes some difference,’ said the chief ‘So you can get your gear together as quick as you’ve a mind to, for the towboat and lighter are at the end of the wharf waiting to start.’ Never before had Robert Emerson seemed so light hearted in preparing his * dress ’ and apparatus as he did that morning, and all through the trip down the harbour, and along the coast to the scene of the wreck, he was the liveliest one of the whole party. There was another diver present besides himself, who was to assist in bringing the bodies of the passengers and the valuables of the steamer’s cargo to the sui face. Scarcely had the scow been moored over the sunken craft when Bob was in his ‘ armour ’ and standing on the iron ladder over the side, waiting for his assistant to secure the hideous copper helmet in place. ‘ Now, Rob, look out for yourself,’ cautioned the attendant, just before screwing on the ‘ face piece.’ ‘ Oh, have no fears for me, I’ll be all right. Good bye,’ and with this farewell the young diver was shut into his armour. Then, hearing the pat on his metal head-covering, Robert Emerson relinquished his hold, and sank beneath the dark, cold waters of the Atlantic. Down, down he went until the tender, who was looking after the hose and life line, * felt' that the diver had reached the deck of the steamer. Then after a few moments the rubber hose was shaken. * More air !’ called the attendant, ‘ Rob wants more air ;’ and the two men at the pump began to turn the cranks more vigorously. *Ah, he’s going down below decks,’remarked the assistant, as he allowed the rope and tube to slip through his hands.

A long pause ensued during which no signal came to the surface. Then the tender, his face assuming a look of apprehension, turned to Mr Tompkins, who was standing near. ‘ What do you think, sir? I haven’t felt Bob for some time.’ ‘ Ask him if he’s all right.’ said the employer. The trembling signal went down into the depths, but no answer came back. • Haul up on the lifeline,’ quickly called Mr Tompkins. ‘ He may be jammed.’ ‘ Truly he is, sir, for I cannot start either hose or rope an inch,* replied the anxious attendant, pulling with all his might. ‘ Quicks! Bear a hand there, Pete. Bs ready to make a dip. Bob is in trouble,’ called the employer to the other diver. * I’m dressed. On with the head-piece and give me plenty of air.’ In less than thirty seconds Pete was on his way to the bottom. As he descended Pete followed the line and hose of his comrade. They led him to the deck of the steamer and thence down through the saloon to the open door of a state room. He entered, and was struck aghast at the spectacle which he saw before him. There was his companion kneeling upon the floor, his arms stretched over the form of a lovely woman, while the barred face-piece of his helmet was pressed close to the pallid, upturned cheek of the dead. The flowing tresses of the drowned, washing in the cruel waters, had twined about the metallic collar of the diver, ns though they, possessed of life, essayed to return the embrace of the one whom their owner had so fondly loved. ‘lt is Bob’s wife !’ gasped Pete within his armour. ‘He

must be taken out from here or be will die from grief where he kneels.’ The courageous fellow stepped to the side of his comrade and touched him on the arm, but recoiled horrified to find that both hose lines had been severed by the sharp knife which had been carried at the belt of the diver, while the ends were made fast to the door-knob of the state room. Pete was quick to act, however. Casting adrift the rope, he fastened it about the body of Robert, dragged it out of the apartment, and gave the signal to ‘haul up,’ while he gently guided the inanimate form out through the saloon and to the deck. Then he returned for the remains of the drowned wife, which he tenderly lifted in his arms, and on his own line gave the ‘ shake ’ to be drawn to the surface. As his head appeared above the water eager hands were extended to relieve the diver of his burden. Tenderly and with a woman’s touch the sturdy mariners lifted the form of Jennie, whom most of them had known in life, and laid it upon the once strong arm of her husband, and then over both, united in death, was lightly placed an ensign to shield the piteous sight from the gaze of the crew. * Mr Tompkins,’whispered the tender of the dead diver, just before the wharf was reached, • Rob knew that his wife was among the drowned, and it was to find her body and die by her side that he begged you to Jet hitn go down. Oh, if you bad listened to me. If you had only listened to me