Part 7 (1/2)

”Yes, boy: my son. When did he come on board?”

”Dunno, sir. Didn't you bring him?”

”I? Absurd! That will do.”

The man left the cabin, and seeing how ill the boy was, Captain Trevor lifted him up and laid him on a cus.h.i.+oned locker.

”How came you here, sir? What monkey's trick is this?” cried the Captain angrily.

”You--you did no--bid me good-bye,” said the boy feebly, with his eyes half-closed. ”I came because--you were angry with me--say good-bye.”

”Tut--tut--tut--tut!” said the Captain.

”Please forgive me, father. I haven't eaten anything--I--I feel so sick.”

”My poor boy!” muttered the Captain, as he grasped the meaning of it all, and his eyes turned a little dim. ”There, there, Bob, it was all a mistake. I was not angry with you. Come, come, hold up,” he cried, with a smile which made the boy cling to his hand. ”You a Skipper, and can't stand a sea like this? But do you know where you are?”

The boy could not trust himself to speak, but he nodded and pointed down to the cabin floor.

”Here,” said the Captain, looking puzzled. ”Yes, you are here sir. Do you know what a muddle you've made?”

Poor Bob groaned, and his father scratched his head.

”No help for it,” muttered the Captain. ”Must put in at Mount's Bay.

Tut--tut--tut--tut!”

The faintly heard sound of the gong made him look up sharply. The vibration ceased, for the propeller had ceased to revolve.

A glance through the cabin window explained why. The ”Flash” had glided into a dense bank of dry fog, and the Captain could not see a yard beyond the panes of gla.s.s.

The next minute the cabin was filled with the dismal roaring of the fog-horn, to warn other vessels of their presence there, and, before a minute had elapsed, the Captain uttered a sharp e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, and sprang to the cabin door, for a fresh roar sounded close at hand, telling that another s.h.i.+p was somewhere near. He rushed on deck, to hear a cry of horror raised by the watch, and the sharp tinging of the gong, for the engines to be turned astern.

_Too late!_ For at the same moment, the huge prow of a great Atlantic liner appeared out of the fog, close at hand; there was a fearful crash, and Captain Trevor was thrown heavily down, as the ”Flash” was struck amids.h.i.+ps, and heeled over, as if the huge vessel that had struck her, were about to ride right over her, and send her to the bottom. But instead she sc.r.a.ped along her side, swept away two boats, and disappeared directly in the mist, with the dismal sound of the fog-horn dying away.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”_There was a fearful crash, as the 'Flash' was struck amids.h.i.+ps._”]

There was no confusion on board the ”Flash”; every officer and man sprang to quarters, and after a few brief orders, all stood breathless, waiting for the report of the damage.

It was not long in coming. There was a terrible gap in the gun-boat's side, and Captain Trevor knew that, do all he might, she could only be kept afloat for an hour or so, before she sank.

For a few minutes the poor young Skipper was forgotten, in the stern duties before Captain Trevor, with so many lives depending upon him; then the father's heart spoke to him reproachfully, and he called for his c.o.xswain.

Tom Jeffs towered up big out of the fog directly, saluting.

”Jeffs,” said the Captain calmly, ”get two life-belts. My little son is in the cabin. Whatever happens, stand by him. I trust him to you.”

”Jack Robinson” opened his mouth, and stood as if turned to stone.

”You hear! Quick!” cried the Captain.

”Ay, ay, sir!” roared the man, and his voice was like a dismal groan.