Chance - Page 195/275

Their hands touched in the dark and she took the box while he held the

paraffin soaked torch in its iron holder. He thought of warning her:

"Look out for yourself." But before he had the time to finish the

sentence the flare blazed up violently between them and he saw her throw

herself back with an arm across her face. "Hallo," he exclaimed; only he

could not stop a moment to ask if she was hurt. He bolted out of the

companion straight into his captain who took the flare from him and held

it high above his head.

The fierce flame fluttered like a silk flag, throwing an angry swaying

glare mingled with moving shadows over the poop, lighting up the concave

surfaces of the sails, gleaming on the wet paint of the white rails. And

young Powell turned his eyes to windward with a catch in his breath.

The strange ship, a darker shape in the night, did not seem to be moving

onwards but only to grow more distinct right abeam, staring at the

Ferndale with one green and one red eye which swayed and tossed as if

they belonged to the restless head of some invisible monster ambushed in

the night amongst the waves. A moment, long like eternity, elapsed, and,

suddenly, the monster which seemed to take to itself the shape of a

mountain shut its green eye without as much as a preparatory wink.

Mr. Powell drew a free breath. "All right now," said Captain Anthony in

a quiet undertone. He gave the blazing flare to Powell and walked aft to

watch the passing of that menace of destruction coming blindly with its

parti-coloured stare out of a blind night on the wings of a sweeping

wind. Her very form could be distinguished now black and elongated

amongst the hissing patches of foam bursting along her path.

As is always the case with a ship running before wind and sea she did not

seem to an onlooker to move very fast; but to be progressing indolently

in long leisurely bounds and pauses in the midst of the overtaking waves.

It was only when actually passing the stern within easy hail of the

Ferndale, that her headlong speed became apparent to the eye. With the

red light shut off and soaring like an immense shadow on the crest of a

wave she was lost to view in one great, forward swing, melting into the

lightless space.

"Close shave," said Captain Anthony in an indifferent voice just raised

enough to be heard in the wind. "A blind lot on board that ship. Put

out the flare now."