Heart of Oak: A Three-Stranded Yarn, vol. 3Russell, William Clark
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Heart of Oak: A Three-Stranded Yarn, vol. 3
Russell, William Clark
English fiction -- 19th century; Sea stories
He said when she first took the ice she was beaten a considerable
distance by blow upon blow of foamless swell, rolling into the shelter
out of the heavy weather beyond; she lay on her bilge. He could not
express the misery they suffered from the angle her posture sloped
her into; till, early one night, a noise of thunder roared through
the cabin as though the whole island was splitting to pieces; shock
followed shock. These volcanic throes went on for hours. He expected
every moment that the hull would be crushed to powder. Sometimes they
felt the fabric under their feet swept upwards. It was pitch dark on
deck; nothing was to be seen; but the uproar of splitting ice was at
moments deafening. He said he could compare it to nothing but to being
in a boat betwixt two line-of-battle ships when they were firing their
whole broadside artillery at each other.
It might have been about four o'clock when the hellish commotion ceased
as abruptly as it had commenced; at this hour the hull was, as she had
been for some time, resting on an almost level keel. At break of day
he went on deck, and was amazed to find the sea lying open, but at a
considerable distance below; the great ice peninsula whose bay had been
the salvation of the hull had broken away and become a majestic island,
nodding stately upon a high sea about a quarter of a mile distant. The
wreck rested upon a wide ledge with a sheer fall of ice, smooth as
though chiselled, to the wash of the surf. How it had befallen he could
not tell. Perception had lain entirely in sensation and bearing.
When Marie came out of her berth I was struck afresh by her improved
looks. I turned to Selby and said:
'This lady sailed for her health. Such distresses, such trials of mind
and body as she has suffered, should pinch the face as fire wastes wax,
and she looks so much better that her father will scarcely know her!'
'I told Mr. Moore,' she said, 'that I don't know how I may look, but
that I am alive and with him again,' said she, stealing her hand into
mine, 'is wholly owing to you.' Then raising her voice, heated into
a higher clearness by emotion, she exclaimed, 'In the presence and
hearing of my betrothed, I thank you with my heart of hearts for all
your goodness to me, for your hundred acts of noble unselfishness, for
the splendid courage and faith which supported us both through the
awful time that is now ended.'
He bowed to her in silence.
'Mr. Selby,' said I, grasping him by the hand, then putting my other
upon his, and so holding him, 'Miss Otway has spoken her gratitude; my
own I have already attempted to express. The profession of the sea has
produced some splendid characters; but it seems to me that you are one
of the finest compliments that nature ever paid to your calling.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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