Across India; Or, Live Boys in the Far East by Oliver Optic (snow like ashes txt) 📖

fixed his gaze on the chart, to find the localities mentioned.

"Ras Sajer," said the captain, placing the point of his pencil on the cape whose name he read. "That must be the one you mention."

"No doubt of it, sir; and I have noticed that the spelling on the chart and in the books doesn't agree at all. The island is Massera on my chart."

"They mean the same locality. Go on, Mr. Scott," added the captain.

"'And the vicinity of the bay of Kuriyan Muriyan, where the winds and weather are more boisterous and variable than on any other part of the coast,'" continued Scott.

"Where is that bay?" asked the commander.

"It is between the two points mentioned before; but it is Kuria Muria on the chart;" and the captain had the point of his pencil on it by this time.

"We are within three hours' sail of the longitude of that bay, but a hundred and fifty miles south of it," said the commander. "The information in the book is quite correct. Is there anything more about it?"

"Yes, sir; a few lines more, and I will read them: 'Respecting Kuriyan Muriyan Bay, Captain S.B. Haines, I.N., remarks that the sudden change of winds, termed by the Arabs Belat, and which blow with great violence for several days, are much dreaded; but what surprised me more than these land winds were the frequent and heavy gales from the S.S.W. during February and March, blowing for six days together.'"

"This gale, for such it appears to be, instead of a mere squall, as I supposed it was at first, has come before it was due by a few days; but it proves that what you have read is entirely correct," said the commander. "My two voyages in the Arabian Sea took me twenty degrees east of this point, and therefore I had nothing but quiet water. But, Mr. Scott, you have put an old navigator into the shade, and I commend you for the care and skill with which you had prepared yourself for the voyage of the Maud to Bengal."

"I protest that it was only an accident that I happened on that paragraph!" exclaimed Scott, blushing under his browned face.

"You found what you were looking for, and that was no accident. I feel that I have added an excellent young officer to the number of my officers," added Captain Ringgold.

"I thank you, sir, with all my heart; but may I ask one favor of you?" inquired the third officer.

"Name it, and I will grant it if possible."

"I earnestly request that you do not mention this little matter to any person on board of the ship."

The commander of the Guardian-Mother was an honest and just man, and he was disposed to give credit to any one who deserved it, even at his own expense, and he looked at the young officer in silence for some moments. Then they argued the question for a time; but the captain finally granted the new officer's request, praising him for his modesty, which was rather a newly developed virtue in his character.

The steamer continued to roll violently when Louis assisted Miss Blanche down the stairs to the main cabin. The dozen passengers who had not gone on deck after luncheon were in excellent humor, for all of them were experienced sailors by this time, and beyond the discomforts of seasickness. All of them held the commander in such high respect and regard, that not one of them mentioned the failure of his prediction of fine weather for the next five or six days. Perhaps all of them wondered, for the captain's predictions before had been almost invariably verified; but not one of them spoke of his missing it in this instance.

The gale continued the rest of the day and during the night. When the morning watch came on duty at four o'clock, Captain Ringgold was pacing the promenade deck, peering through the darkness, and observing the huge waves that occasionally washed the upper deck. He had not slept a wink during the night, though he had reclined an hour on the divan in the pilot-house. He was not alarmed for the safety of his ship, but he looked out for her very carefully in heavy weather.

He was particularly interested in the conduct of the Blanche. She had taken a position to windward of the Guardian-Mother, and appeared to be doing quite as well in the heavy sea as her consort. She had been built with all the strength and solidity that money could buy; and she was as handsome a craft as ever floated, not even excepting her present companion on the stormy sea, and she was proving herself to be an able sea-boat.

"Good-morning, Mr. Scott," said the commander, as the young officer touched his cap to him.

Scott had been temporarily placed in the watch with the first officer, and his post of duty was at the after part of the ship.

"Good-morning, Captain Ringgold," replied Scott, as he halted to ascertain if the commander had any orders for him. "The gale does not appear to have moderated since I turned in, sir."

"On the contrary, it blows fresher than ever. I did not expect such a nasty time as we are having of it," added the commander.

"According to Captain Haines of the Indian navy, we may expect it to last five days longer, for we have had nearly one day of it."

"Not quite so bad as that, Mr. Scott. If we had stayed in the vicinity of Kuria Muria Bay, we might have got five days more of it; but this is a local storm, and we shall doubtless run out of it in a day or two at most, and come again into the region of the north-east monsoon."

"I hope so for the sake of those in the cabin; and I did not think of the local feature you mention."

"The deck is well officered now," added the captain with a gape, "and I will take a nap in my cabin for an hour or two. Mr. Boulong will have me called if the storm gets any worse."

The commander went to his cabin, and Scott walked aft to the compass abaft the mainmast. The binnacle was lighted, and he looked into it. The course was all right, though the ship yawed a good deal in the trough of the sea, the gale pelting her squarely on the beam. Though it was not an easy thing even for a thorough seaman to preserve his centre of gravity, the young officer made his way fore and aft with the aid of the life-lines which had been extended the evening before. He watched the motions of the Blanche, for there was nothing else to be seen but the waste of angry waters.

Far ahead the light of the breaking day began to penetrate the gloomy black clouds. It was a pleasure to come out of the deep darkness, and he observed with interest the increase of the light. While he was watching the east, the lookout man in the foretop hailed the deck. He listened and moved forward to the foremast to hear what passed between him and the first officer.

"Steamer on the port bow, sir!" reported the man aloft.

Scott saw the vessel, but she was too far off to be made out. She passed and disappeared; but about the moment he lost sight of her, he thought he heard the report of a musket, or some other firearm, to the northward of the ship. He listened with all his ears, and then distinguished very faintly shouts from human voices. He waited only long enough to satisfy himself that he had not mistaken the roar of the sea for calls for help, and then went forward to the pilot-house, where he announced that he had heard the shots and the cries.

"Are you sure of it, Mr. Scott?" asked the first officer.

"Very sure, sir."

"We have heard nothing, and the lookouts have not reported anything," added Mr. Boulong.

"On deck, sir! Wreck on the port beam!" yelled the lookout aloft.

"Call the captain, Mr. Scott," said the first officer, as he went out on deck.

He made out the ominous sounds, and judged that they came from a point not more than a mile distant. The commander and Scott appeared immediately; and with the increased daylight they discovered several men clinging to what appeared to be a wreck.

CHAPTER III A REVIEW OF THE PAST FOURTEEN MONTHS

The Guardian-Mother had sailed from New York about fourteen months before she appeared in the waters of the Arabian Sea. She was a steam-yacht of 624 tons burden, owned by Louis Belgrave, a young man who had just entered his eighteenth year. His native place was Von Blonk Park, in New Jersey, most of whose territory had been the farm of the young gentleman's grandfather, who had become a millionaire by the sale of his land.

The terrors of the War of the Rebellion had driven the old man to convert his property into gold, which he had concealed so effectually that no one could find it. His only son, more patriotic than his father, had enlisted in the loyal army, and had been severely wounded in the brave and faithful discharge of his duty, and returned to the home of his childhood a wreck of his former self.

His father died during his absence, and Paul Belgrave, the soldier, was his sole heir. His physical condition improved considerably, though he never ceased to suffer from the effects of his wound. The homestead of his father, which had not been sold with the rest of his land, afforded the invalid a sufficient support; and he married Maud Nashwood, the only daughter of one of the small magnates of Von Blonk Park, which had now become a thriving town, occupied mainly by business men of New York.

Paul Belgrave was a millionaire without any millions; for he was never able to find the large property of his deceased parent. For ten years he dug over the cellar bottom of the old house, and the ground in the vicinity; but the missing million entirely eluded his search, and he died as soon as he gave up all hope of finding the treasure.

Mrs. Belgrave was left with their son, then eight years old; but the estate of her husband, with the property of her father, supported her comfortably. The widow had been married at sixteen; and she had the reputation of being the prettiest woman in the Park after her husband died. She had many suitors, but she finally married a handsome English horse-trainer, who called himself Wade Farrongate, though that was not his real name.

For some reason not then apparent, this man at once became the enemy of Louis Belgrave; and the war between them raged for several years, though the young man did all he could to conciliate his stepfather. The man was a rascal, a villain to the very core of his being, though he had attained a position of considerable influence among the sporting gentry of New York and New Jersey, mainly for his skill as a jockey, and in the management of the great races.

Louis discovered a plan on the part of Farrongate to appropriate the stakes and other money dependent upon the great race of the season, and escape to England with his wife and stepson. In this scheme Louis, after he had obtained the evidence of the jockey's villany, went on board of the steamer which was to convey them all over the ocean, and succeeded, with no little difficulty, in convincing his mother of the unworthiness of her husband; and she returned with her son to Von Blonk Park. The young man went back to the steamer, and by skilful management obtained all the plunder of the villain, who sailed for England without his treasure.

Farrongate, or rather John Scoble, which was his real name, was a deserter from the British army. He was arrested on his return, and compelled to serve out the remainder of his term of service. The death of an uncle in India recruited his finances, and he returned to New York. It afterwards appeared that he had some clew to Peter Belgrave's missing million, and he was therefore anxious to recover the possession of the wife who had repudiated him.

A successful conspiracy enabled him to convey her to Bermuda. At this stage of the drama, Captain Royal Ringgold, an early admirer of the pretty widow, became an active participant in the proceedings, and from