A Desperate VoyageKnight, E. F. (Edward Frederick)
General
A Desperate Voyage
Knight, E. F. (Edward Frederick)
Lawyers -- Fiction; Pirates -- Fiction
But the Frenchman did not reply. He looked round the horizon with a
puzzled expression, and, putting his hand to his ear, appeared to be
listening intently.
"Hark, captain! What is that?" he cried.
CHAPTER VIII
Carew listened, and heard a low, rumbling sound like distant thunder.
"Thunder out of a cloudless sky! That is strange."
"That is no thunder, captain," said Baptiste, with a scared look, "but
what it is I know not."
The sound became louder. It did not seem to be approaching from any
direction, but to be everywhere--around, below, above--filling all
space. Then it swelled to a great roar, as of the rolling of thousands
of drums. The air trembled at the sound, and the surface of the sea no
longer reflected the blue sky above, but, appearing like a mirror over
which one has breathed, vibrated into myriads of wrinkles and gyrating
rings. Soon the water began to be greatly disturbed, and raved and
foamed about the vessel as if she were floating in a boiling caldron.
Then occurred an appalling prodigy. First, louder than loudest thunder,
was heard a deafening explosion, and immediately the sea leapt up, not
in waves, but in steep pyramids of water, piling itself up in domes, as
if some mighty force were thrusting it up from below. The yacht pitched
wildly into the confused whirl till she was nigh to break up with the
violence of the shocks, and the water poured over her decks in masses,
threatening to swamp her. Hollow whirlpools opened out suddenly in front
of her, seeking to engulf her: a fearful spectacle to behold, which
might make even the bravest men go mad with fright. Then came another
explosion, and the superstitious Spaniards, holding on to the rigging
for dear life, shrieked with abject terror as they saw the limpid sea
suddenly thicken and change its colour to a dark, sulphurous yellow.
There was an odour of sulphur in the air, and the sun was shining
through a sickly yellow haze.
The crew, who would have done their duty with cool courage in a
hurricane, were completely unnerved by this alarming portent. The two
men forward thought that the fiend himself had opened hell under them to
swallow up their sinful souls; they prayed and blasphemed in turns. The
French mate, white to his lips and trembling, clutched the rigging, with
his eyes closed. Carew alone, though his cheeks were pale, was calm.
Holding on to the bulwark to prevent himself from being thrown overboard
by the violent leaping of the yacht, he looked around him with a
resolute expression. He would fight bravely for his life, but he had no
fear of death.
In the midst of this turmoil a strong wind suddenly arose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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