Chapter XIV: Struck Down

But still the days went on and no wind came--the one thing which, even now, after they had been becalmed for nearly a week, might have saved the ship from any fearful calamity that was at last, almost without a doubt, in store for her. For, according to their reckonings, taken regularly both by aid of the brilliant sun which still poured down its vertical rays upon them, and also by the use of a cherub log which they possessed, as well as the ordinary ones, the current had drifted them some three hundred miles north, so that they had consequently the northern coast of Madagascar on their port bow, as well as the Aldabra Islands, and with Galega, Providence and Farquhar Islands almost directly ahead of them.

Only--the wind would not come, and the ship lay upon the water as motionless, except for the current, as though she had been fixed upon the solid and firm-set earth. And, meanwhile, the blindness which had seized upon one man after another was still continuing its progress, and more than half--indeed, three-parts--of the complement of the _Emperor of the Moon_ were now sightless. Of seventeen sailors, eleven were down with this terrible, paralysing affliction, as well as one officer, Mr. Fagg; so that, if now the long-hoped-for breeze should spring up, there were scarcely enough men in the whole vessel to set the sails, even including Pooley--who certainly could not go aloft with safety!--and Charke and Gilbert; while, presuming all of them could do so and the wind should freshen much, they would undoubtedly be far from able to take them in again. And then the result must be swift--undoubted--deadly. The ship would rush to her destruction, would be beyond all control; she would either go over under the force of the elements, or be dashed to pieces on some solitary coral island which she might encounter in her mad, ungovernable flight. Consequently, there remained but one chance, and one only, for her, that chance being to forgo the advantage of the wind when it came at last, and to let her drift under bare poles until they were seen, and perhaps rescued, by a passing vessel. But, again there arose the fear in all hearts, as already it had done before--namely, would any other ship which might encounter them be willing to take on board men in such a plight as they were, and suffering from a disease that none could venture to doubt must be contagious?

Meantime, the life in the vessel itself was, possibly, the strangest form of existence which has prevailed for many a long sea-voyage. For she was subject to no stress whatever of weather, the elements were all in favour of her safety, if not her progress; she was comfortable and easy and well found with everything of the best--since, in the _Emperor of the Moon_, there was neither rotten pork nor weevily biscuits for old shellbacks to grumble and curse at and mutiny over, as those who wish to make the sailor dissatisfied with his lot are too often fond of representing to be the case--every one was well housed and well provided with good, wholesome food. Yet, all the same, she was a stricken ship--stricken, in truth, by the visitation of God; smitten by the hand of God with a curse which none could understand or explain. Fortunately, however--if the word Fortune may be used in connection with those now in her!--this curse seemed to have stopped at the blindness--though God knows that was bad enough! Death did not seem to be following after it, nor madness, nor delirium, as had been the case with the others--certainly as death had been. Those who were down lay in their berths, blind, it is true; but otherwise there was nothing else the matter with them; and, since they were ministered to by those who, up to now, had themselves escaped the visitation, they did not suffer in any other way.

Bella and Mrs. Pooley were at this time more or less in charge of the provisions, the latter dealing out the men's rations under the orders of her husband, while Bella, arrayed in a long white apron which gave her a charmingly strange appearance in the eyes of all who beheld her, attended to the meals of those who used the saloon, took her place in the cook's galley--the unfortunate man being one who was down with the scourge--and saw to all preparations necessary for their now hastily devised and uncomfortable meals.

'She's a good 'un,' the six remaining healthy men muttered to themselves, as they saw her busying herself about the ship, making soup and broth for them as well as for the after-cabin, and working indefatigably from morning to night on behalf of all on board, 'a real good 'un. And this here Navy lieutenant what's to marry her is a lord, ain't he, Bill?'

'He ain't a lord yet, but he's a-going to be. Ah, well; if we ever all gets safe into port, her ladyship will know summat about what her servants ought to be like. Her cooks won't get to windward of her in a hurry, I'll go bail!'

'If we ever get safely into port!' That was the sentiment which pervaded all minds on board the _Emperor of the Moon_ at that time. 'If they ever got safely into port!' For all on board began now to doubt whether they would do so. The eighth day of their being becalmed had come, even as those forecastle hands discussed the girl's goodness--with also, in whispers, many an admiring remark on her beauty and generally trim-built appearance--the eighth day had come and, suddenly, just as the forenoon watch was over, two more men suddenly called out together that they were 'struck'--were blind! Two more, leaving now only four sailors and three officers--counting Gilbert in place of Fagg--and two helpless women!

'Well,' said the chief mate, coming up to where Gilbert and Bella were discussing gravely this new affliction, while close by them the usual business was going on of getting the two fresh cases into their berths in the forecastle--which was now a lazaretto--'well, this ends it. The wind may blow as much as it likes now, we shall never be able to make sail. We must drift about till we are picked up or----' Then, seeing the look of terror on Bella's face, he refrained from finishing his sentence, saying instead: 'If we had as many hands to do one man's work as you have in Her Majesty's service, Lieutenant Bampfyld, we should still be all right.'

'I don't know,' Gilbert replied coldly, and in a manner which, quite unknown to himself, he had been gradually adopting of late towards his unsuspected, would-be rival. 'I don't know. We may have a dozen hands to do one man's work in our service, as you seem to suggest, and as is often supposed, yet, all the same, I'd back four of our men and two young officers to get a lot of sail on a ship of this size, anyhow!'

'They might. Yet, clever as they are, you wouldn't like to back them for much to furl those sails again if the breeze freshened into a strong wind, would you?'

'I think so,' said Gilbert, still more coldly. 'At any rate, I'd back them to have a rare good try.'

'Try!' exclaimed Charke. 'Try! Oh, we can all try! As far as that goes, I'd have all the blind ones out to put their weight on the braces while the rest went aloft, if the wind would only come; they could do that without seeing. And we could try getting the sails off again if it blew too hard--but I doubt our doing it. Any one can try.' After which he walked forward to make inquiries about the two fresh cases of blindness.

'I don't like that man, Bella,' Gilbert said when the other was out of hearing, 'although he's a smart officer and a gentleman. And I don't think he likes me.'

For a moment she stood there saying nothing, and with her eyes cast down on the soft pitch of the seams, which was greasy and seething under the fierce sun. Then she looked up at her lover and said: 'No more do I much now, Bertie. In fact, I almost fear him.'

'I wonder if he was ever in love with you?' Bampfyld said, while remembering, as she spoke, how once, in those delicious days when they had first acknowledged their own love for one another, she had jokingly told him that he was not the first sailor who had tried to woo her. And he recalled, too, the fact that Charke had been introduced to her mother's house by her uncle, and had been more or less of a frequent visitor there. 'Was he, Bella?' he continued. 'Was he the sailor you once told me of who wanted your love?'

'Yes,' she said, gazing up at him with her clear, truthful eyes. 'He was. He told me so long after I met you. And I believe now--I have thought so for some time--that he would never have applied for the position he holds in this ship if uncle hadn't told him that I was coming in it. He was far too ambitious for such a post when I first knew him, and aspired to be captain in one of the great liners, and eventually to be an owner.'

'I'm glad you've told me, darling. Especially as it quite explains his not liking me over much. Poor chap! I can understand that he should not do so in the circumstances,' he added, while gazing down on his sweetheart with such a glowing look of love as to cause her to forget all their unfortunate surroundings and revel only in her delight at being so much beloved by him.

'Yet,' Gilbert continued, 'I can't understand his wanting to come into this ship, even though it would give him three or four months more of your society. Such a thing as that would have been maddening to ordinary men--I know it would have been to me! If you had rejected me--I--I--well, there! I can't say what I should have done; but, at any rate, I couldn't have borne the torture of being in your presence--especially if you were on your way to marry another fellow.'

'He is a strange man,' Bella said, 'and although I never loved him, I cannot help admiring his force of character. His father, a selfish old man, treated him badly and baulked him of going into your service, yet he managed to be a sailor in another way, and to enforce respect from every one. And he is a cultivated man and wonderfully well read. Still, I don't altogether like his force of character, or rather, the direction it takes. He told me, on that day at Portsmouth, that he never faltered in his purpose, and that, when once he had made up his mind to do a thing or get a thing, he did it, or got it, somehow. I believe, too, that he meant it as a kind of defiance to me.'

'Did he, though!' exclaimed Gilbert, as now they sat beneath the awning, at which they had arrived while talking. 'Did he! Well, he won't get you, anyway, will he? Not while I'm alive, anyhow. If, however, I were to die----'

But this remark was promptly hushed by Bella, who would not allow her lover to even finish it, and, as his watch commenced at six o'clock, he now went below to get an hour or so's rest before that time arrived, while she still sat on beneath the awning, thinking dreamily of him alone and of their future--if any lay before them, which now seemed doubtful, or, at least, very uncertain. Then, suddenly, as thus she mused, there happened a thing which startled and amazed her so that she sprang out of her Singapore chair and gazed aft, away down towards the south. A thing which even she, a landswoman, a girl originally unacquainted with anything connected with seafaring matters, had, by now, come to recognise and understand as vital to all on board that ship. She had felt the back of the straw hat she wore lifted by a slight warm ripple of air, while, at the same moment, some of the pages of a book she had left lying on the table were suddenly turned over swiftly and with a loud rustle.

'It is the breeze,' she muttered, 'the breeze! The wind at last!'

The others on deck had perceived it as quickly as she. At once, those who were about had sprung into action and thrown off the listlessness which had pervaded all in the ship since they had been becalmed. In an instant all was bustle and confusion; the four remaining men who could see rushing about eagerly. The master came out from where he had been talking to some of the sufferers, while Charke, running along the waist, called out: 'Miss Waldron! Miss Waldron! Where is the lieutenant? We want his services now, at once. Perhaps he, too, can do as much as any of his own men could if we look alive.'

'I will fetch him directly,' Bella cried, full of excitement, and, swiftly, she ran down the companion to the saloon on her way to hammer on Gilbert's cabin-door and awaken him. But, as she reached the place she stopped, petrified almost and filled with a vague alarm at she scarcely knew what, while, at the same time, she smothered a shriek which rose to her lips, and exclaimed in its place: 'Bertie! Bertie! What is the matter?'

For she saw him standing by the saloon-table gazing at her, smiling even as he heard her loved voice, yet holding on to the edge with one hand while, with the other, he felt, as it seemed, cautiously before him. And again she cried: 'Bertie, what is it? What does it mean?'

Then she heard his voice saying: 'It means, darling, that I too am struck down. That I too am blind.'