My Danish Sweetheart: A Novel. Volume 1 of 3Russell, William Clark
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My Danish Sweetheart: A Novel. Volume 1 of 3
Russell, William Clark
Adventure stories; Fiction; Love stories; Sea stories
'Then there must be iron eyes in the upper deck,' cried I, 'to receive
the hooks. Now, see here! we shall have to get a sling at each end of
the cot, attach a line to it, the ends of which we will pass through
the eyes, and when this is done we will cut away the clews, and so lower
him. Yes, that will do,' said I. 'I have it,' and, looking about me for
such a thickness of rope as I needed, I overhauled some fathoms, passed
my knife through the length, and together we hastened to the Captain's
berth.
'What is it now?' he asked, in a feeble voice, as we entered.
'Everything is ready, Captain Nielsen,' said I, 'there is no time to
lose. The cargo is washing about in the hold, and the ship has not
another hour of life left in her.'
'What is it that you want?' said he, looking dully at the coil of rope I
held in my hand.
'Father, we are here to carry you to the raft.'
'To the raft!' he exclaimed, with an air of bewilderment, and then he
added, while I noticed a little colour of temper enter his cheeks. 'I
have nothing to do with your raft. It was in your power to save the poor
_Anine_. If she is to founder, I will go down with her.'
So saying, he folded his arms upon his bosom in a posture of resolution,
viewing me with all the severity his sickness would suffer his eyes to
express. Nevertheless, there was a sort of silliness in the whole manner
of him which might have persuaded the most heedless observer that the
poor fellow was rapidly growing less and less responsible for his
behaviour. Had he been a powerful man, or, indeed, possessed the use of
his extremities, I should have dreaded what is termed a 'scene.' As it
was, nothing remained but to treat him as a child, to tackle him with
all tenderness, but as swiftly as possible, and to get him over the
side.
There was a dreadful expression of distress in Helga's face when she
looked at him; but her glances at me were very full of assurance that
she was of my mind, and that she would approve and be with me in
sympathy in whatever I resolved to do. Whipping out my knife, I cut
lengths off the rope I held to make slings of. I carried one of these
slings to the cot and passed it over the end. The Captain extended his
hand, and attempted to thrust me aside. The childlike weakness of that
trembling push would, in a time of less wretchedness and peril than
this, have unnerved me with pity.
'Bear with me! Be yourself, Captain! Show yourself the true Danish
sailor that you are at heart--for Helga's sake!' I exclaimed.
He covered his eyes and sobbed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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