The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
all white."
"It is the worst sign of bad weather," said Ingestrie. "The commotion
has begun below the surface in some mysterious way, and that white foam
which you see each moment rapidly increasing is cast up; but soon the
whole surface will begin to heave, and then you will find out what a
storm is."
"We may hear it," said the colonel; "but if this darkness continues, I
doubt very much if we shall be able to bring any other of our senses
into requisition upon the occasion."
"Hush!" said Tobias, "what is that?"
He held up his hand as he spoke, and as they were then all profoundly
still, a strange, low, wailing sound came over the water.
"What can it be?" said Johanna.
"Only the gale," smiled Ingestrie. "It's coming, now. That's the sigh of
the wind over the water. You will soon hear it, I can tell you. Now,
only notice how still everything is. There, look how that bird flies in
a terrified manner close to the ground. It knows that the gale is
coming. The sound you heard with intense listening, you will be able now
to hear without listening at all. It will force itself upon your notice.
Hilloa! There it comes! Look at the sea!"
A few miles out from the shore the sea seemed to rise like a wall of
water, tipped with a ridge of foam, and then down it came with such a
splash and a roar, that it was plainly heard on the shore, and then, in
a moment or two, the impulse so given communicated itself to the whole
of the sea, and it was fearfully agitated. With a roar and a shriek, the
gale swept on, and from that moment conversation was almost out of the
question.
The ladies of the party were glad to get into the house again, and in a
little time the colonel and Ingestrie found it anything but comfortable
to remain in the balcony; and as the night had fairly set in, they
likewise retreated.
The gale lasted the whole of the evening, and when our friends retired
to rest it seemed to be rather increasing than otherwise. It was still
dark when Ingestrie was awakened from his sleep by a knocking at the
door of his room.
"Hilloa!" he said; "who's there?"
"It is I," said Colonel Jeffrey. "Will you get up, Mr. Ingestrie? It is
nearly morning, and they say a ship is going down about a couple of
miles off the coast."
"I'm coming!" cried Ingestrie, as he sprang out of bed and dressed
himself with amazing rapidity. "If it does go down, it will not be the
only one that finds the bottom of the Channel to-night."
When he reached the lower part of the house, he found the colonel and
Ben waiting for him.
"This has been an awful night," said the colonel.
"Well, I don't know," said Ingestrie; "for I have been fast asleep."
"Asleep!" cried Ben; "I couldn't get a wink of sleep but once, and then
I dreamt I was a mermaid. Why, what with the howling of the wind, which
is a great deal worse than our lioness when she wants her knuckle of
beef, and the washing of the water, I couldn't rest at all."
"The voice of the wind," said Ingestrie, "always has the effect of
sending me fast asleep. But you said something of a ship in distress,
did you not?"
"Yes. They say that in the offing there is a large ship, and that she is
evidently water-logged, and must go down, unless she drives ashore."
"The deuce she must! Let us run down to the beach at once, and see what
we can do."
With this, they all three left the house, and made the best of their way
to the beach along the execrable shingle of the Brighton coast. It was
far from being an easy task to proceed, for the wind was terrific, and
now and then, when they did reach the beach, there came a sea washing
in, that drenched them with spray.
A crowd of people had collected upon the coast; some were holding up
lanterns on the end of poles, and many were prepared with ropes to cast
to the aid of any of the crew of the vessel that might swim to the
shore.
"There she is," said Ingestrie; "I see her! It's a small craft, and she
is a wreck already."
"She must go down, then?" said the colonel.
"I don't know. She is drifting in shore, but evidently quite
unmanageable. She is a sheer hulk. If they had the least control over
her, they could run her in in ten minutes on to the beach; but she is
going about like a log."
"Then, she may go down in deep water yet?"
"In truth, she may."
"Here are plenty of boats?"
"Boats? My dear friend, there never was a boat yet that could live in
such a sea as this. It is out of the question. You find no one makes the
attempt, and I am quite sure that among the hardy fishermen of this
place, there are many would do so if it were at all practicable; but it
is most certain that death in the surf would be the result."
"I fear it would, indeed."
"There she goes!" cried a voice.
"Eh?" said Ben, turning round and round, "I don't see anybody in the
female line."
"The ship!" cried Ingestrie. "They mean the ship. But she is not gone
yet. There she is, still. Do you see her, colonel, like a tub upon the
water? There, right away, by yon light-coloured cloud."
"I do--I do!"
The ship had not gone down. She had only settled for a moment or two in
the trough of the sea; and it was now quite evident that the wreck was
rapidly drifting towards the shore, so that there was an expectation
that it might strike in shallow water, and so give the crew a chance of
escape from death.
CHAPTER CLXX.
MARK INGESTRIE RESCUES A SHIPWRECKED MAN.
The scene now upon the beach at Brighton was one of the most exciting
that can well be imagined. No one who has not stood upon a beach under
such circumstances, and seen a brave ship battling with the waters, can
have any real idea of it.
Language is too weak to paint the feelings of such a conjunction of
circumstances. It is so hopeless a thing to stand upon the shore, and
listen to the wind roaring in its fury, and to see the waves dashing in
mad gyrations hither and thither, while a few frail and creaking timbers
only keep some poor mortals from sinking into the sea, which, like a
seething cauldron, seems ready to devour them, that it is enough to
unman the stoutest heart.
No wonder that persons with kindly sympathies and gentle feelings
towards human nature, such as Colonel Jeffrey and Mark Ingestrie
undoubtedly had, should suffer acutely to see others so suffer.
If there had been any likelihood of a boat reaching the ill-fated ship,
Ingestrie would have been the first to propose such a measure, and the
first, with hand and heart, to carry it out; but there was no such
likelihood. Our friend had seen too much of service afloat, and was by
far too good a sailor to suppose for an instant that any boat could live
for a cable's length from the shore in such a sea as that!
"Is it quite impossible to aid them?" said the colonel.
"Quite," said Ingestrie, "unless they strike close in shore. Then,
something may, perhaps, be done."
"Ay, sir," said a weather-beaten boatman who stood close to Ingestrie,
"you are right there. If they only drift a little further in, and are
still afloat, when the keel touches ground they may get ashore some of
them."
"No boat," said the colonel, "could reach her?"
"Boat, sir! My little bit of a craft will do now and then things that
one ought not to expect, from anything in the shape of a boat; but that
surf would toss it up like a piece of cork, and it would only be making
bad worse to draw a few brave fellows from land here, because others are
going down at sea."
"You are right," said Ingestrie. "Do you happen to know the craft out
yonder?"
"No, sir. She is so swept clear, that it would be hard to know her if
she were one's own; but I don't think she belongs to this port at all."
"The gale is going down a bit."
"It is, sir. Don't you see it's coming in puffs like--It won't last much
longer."
"Gone!" cried a hundred voices at once.
"No--no!" cried Ingestrie. "Don't say that."
A wild shriek came across the surface of the water, and the ship that
had been doing battle with the winds and the waves, disappeared.
"Oh, this is, indeed, terrible," said Colonel Jeffrey. "It is too
horrible!"
"It is, indeed!" cried Ingestrie. "There is but one chance now of doing
any good, and that is in case any poor fellow should get washed on shore
through the surf with a few sparks of life in him. Hilloa, my men! Get
out your tackle, and let us look out for the survivors. Some one may try
to fight for it yet."
The sailors and boatmen upon the beach were charmed with the idea that
they might be able to do some good in this way; and as they soon found
that Ingestrie knew perfectly well what he was about, they listened to
his orders, in the course they should take, and obeyed them with
alacrity and skill.
He had some of the long line connected with the fishing-nets, and to
which corks were attached, cast out into the sea by the aid of little
kedge anchors, so that the waves did not bring them back again, and as
the other ends of the lines were held firmly on the shore, any one might
be struggling for life amid the surf, would have had a good chance of
preservation by laying hold of one of those lines.
"We may do some good," said Ingestrie, as he tied one end of one of the
ropes round his waist.
"What are you about?" said the colonel.
"Oh, nothing. Do not fancy I am going to throw myself into the waves.
But if I should chance to see any poor soul struggling for life, it
would take something to prevent me from going after him."
"But think of yourself."
"Oh, I cannot come to any sort of harm, you know. They will easily be
able to haul me on shore, you perceive, by the other end of the rope,
and I have been rather used to fighting my way through the waves."
"Heaven speed you, if the occasion for your doing so again should arise,
my gallant friend. Far be it from me to dissuade you against such an
attempt; and I am sure that even she who loves you best of all, would be
the first to encourage you."
"Of course she would."
"All lost, sir," said a sailor.
"No, don't say that!" cried Ingestrie. "Where is that night glass that
some one had here a little while ago?"
"Here, sir."
Ingestrie placed the telescope to his eye, and looked fixedly in the
direction of the wreck. He then handed it to the sailor, and said--
"Who has a good hold of the end of this rope that is about me?"
"All's right, sir. There will be no lack of hands with that. But you
don't mean to go through the surf, sir?"
"I see a human being struggling with the foam, and from his actions he
is no swimmer. I cannot stand here and see him die, while there is a
chance of saving him. Hark you! Don't wait for me to sing out, but use
your own eyes, and begin to pull in the moment you see me close with
him. The dawn is coming rapidly, and you will see better each moment.
Now, I'm off."
"For the love of Heaven be careful!" cried the colonel.
Ingestrie smiled, and then dashed into the roaring, bubbling surf of the
sea, with the rope round his waist.
A loud cheer burst from the throats of all present, as the heroic action
was witnessed. If anything had been wanting, which it was not, to urge
the gallant Mark Ingestrie on his brave and noble adventure, that cheer
would have done it; but amid the roar and din of the water about his
ears, it is doubtful if he could have heard it at all, or any noise of
ten times the intensity.
The figure in the sea, that had attracted the attention of Ingestrie,
was now plainly perceived by the colonel, and by all who were upon the
beach. To the practised eyes of the sailors then present, it was evident
that the body must be lashed to some very buoyant substance, which