Beggars on HorsebackJesse, F. Tennyson (Fryniwyd Tennyson)
General
Beggars on Horseback
Jesse, F. Tennyson (Fryniwyd Tennyson)
Fiction; Short stories, English
Elderkin retained his clarity of aspect and gave his orders collectedly;
only when the dago crew clung miserably to any support and refused to
obey, he pulled out his gun and drove them to their stations. Hove-to,
with only her spanker, close-reefed main-topsail and fore-staysail set,
there was a chance of keeping her off the coast till the sea should
quiet down enough to allow of a jury rudder being rigged. Meanwhile, as
the men were setting the sails she rolled horribly in the trough of the
sea; rolled fit to break her heart. Elderkin, on the poop, shouting at
the men reefing the topsail, saw something that for the first moment of
horror seemed fraught with the supernatural. Years of neglect, of rust,
of corrosion from salt, had in reality gone to bring about what he then
saw, with dishonesty and money-grubbing meanness behind the rust and
corrosion. For, with a scream of ripping iron and the sharp snapping of
guys, the _Spirito Santo_ rolled her funnel clean off at the root, the
casing along with it. It crashed upon the deck, and the next moment was
swept overboard, carrying away the port bulwarks. A gust of heat and a
murky torrent of foul smoke blew flatly from the cavity that gaped in
the ship's vitals; then a flood of water, luminously pale in the growing
daylight, filmed across the deck amidships and poured over the ragged
rim of the wound. The _Spirito Santo_ rolled upon the water, little more
than a helpless wreck.
Lemaire, who was lying on the top of the chart-house, gripping the rail,
screamed out that they were done for; even Olsen, turning his blackened
face to the captain, shouted that the game was up; as to the dagos, each
yelled where he lay. This time Elderkin had to use his gun before he
could get the ship hove-to. At sight of one of their number lying limp
in the scuppers, the crew obeyed once more, while Olsen, sticking by his
caste, and Lemaire, seeing still a faint chance for life, worked with
them to cover the jagged hole with the stoutest timbers they could find.
What was left of the fires was drawn, the planks over the hole shored up
from below with timbers, tarpaulins stretched a-top of all and fastened
down by a great batten bolted through the sodden deck; and, during all
the hours of work amid wind and water, Elderkin watched the ship, saw
that she did not come too much up into the wind nor fall off into the
trough of the sea; kept the men at it when, time and again, they would
have given up. Gun in one hand and Bible in the other, he read out
threats of the Almighty's, intermingled with his own. And, at last, the
jury-hatch was finished, and a further stage of the battle won.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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