The Captain of the Kansas - Page 20/174

The curious sense of waiting, they knew not for what, which dulled the

thoughts and stilled the tongues of the small company at the table,

soon communicated itself to the stewards. The men stood in little

knots, exchanging few words, and those mostly meaningless; but the

chief steward, whose trained ear caught the regular beat of the

donkey-engine, woke them up with a series of sharp orders.

"Switch on the lights," he said loudly. "Clear the table and hurry up

with the coffee. Get a move on those fellows, Gomez. Have you never

before been in a ship when the screw stopped?"

The Gomez thus appealed to was the Englishman's second-in-command; he

acted as interpreter when anything out of the common was required. He

muttered a few words in the Hispano-Indian patois which his hearers

best understood, and the scene in the saloon changed with wondrous

suddenness. The glow of the electric lamps banished the gathering

shadows. The luxurious comfort of the apartment soon dispelled the

notion of danger. Coffee was brought. The smoking saloon was

inaccessible, owing to the closing of the gangway, but the chief

steward suggested that the gentlemen might smoke if the ladies were

agreeable. Under such circumstances the ladies always are agreeable,

and the instant result was a distinct rise in the social barometer.

The noise of the steam exhaust ceased as abruptly as it began. The

ship was riding easily in spite of the heavy sea. Drifting with wind

and wave is a simple thing for a big vessel. There is no struggle, no

tearing asunder of resisting forces. Thus might a boat caught in the

pitiless current of Niagara glide towards the brink of the cataract

with cunning smoothness.

And then, while the occupants of the saloon were endeavoring to

persuade each other that all was well, the loud wail of the siren

thrilled them with increased foreboding. It was not the warning note

of a fog, nor the sharp course-signal for the guidance of a passing

ship, but a sustained trumpeting, which announced to any steamer hidden

in the darkening waste of waters that the Kansas was not under

control. It was a wild, sinister appeal for help, the voice of the

disabled vessel proclaiming her need; and the answer seemed to come in

a fiercer shriek of the gale, while the added fury of the blast brought

a curling sea over the poop. The Kansas staggered and shook herself

clear. The wave smashed its way onward; several iron stanchions

snapped with reports like pistol-shots, and there was an intolerable

rending of woodwork. But, whatever the damage, the powerful hull rose

triumphantly from the clutch of its assailant. Shattered streams of

water poured off the decks like so many cascades. Loud above the

splash of these miniature cataracts vibrated the tense boom of the

fog-horn.

It was a nerve-racking moment. It demanded the leadership of a strong

man, and there are few gatherings in Anglo-Saxondom which cannot

produce a Caesar when required.