Adventure stories; French -- England -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction; Love stories
Alone with the swaying lantern, the beams and bulkheads, the boxes
and chests, she gave herself over to her own turbulent reflections.
There was a swish and hollow gurgle at her very ear as the seas
alongside washed astern, a creaking and a groaning of the timbers,
which made her tremble for the stanchness of the vessel. The boxes and
chests resolved themselves into great square patches of light which
thrust their staring presence forward obtrusively; and the vagrant
diagonal shadow took a new direction and meaning in the misty darkness
beyond the sphere of light at each new posture of the vessel. Strange
odors--musty, dry, and evil-smelling--afflicted her nostrils; and the
air, hot and fetid, hung about her and upon her offensively. Breathing
became a muscular exertion and an effort of the will. She bit her lip
and clenched her hands upon the chest where she was seated, to keep
from crying aloud her misery and terror. Suddenly there was a sound of
rending and tearing among the complaining timbers, and the guns above
renewed their angry threats. One, two, three, four single discharges
she heard, a scattering broadside, and then silence. Again that chorus
of unfamiliar sounds, each one of which spoke to her in a different way
of danger in some new and dreadful form. Presently the clamorous sea
sang a louder, wilder note, the timbers cried aloud in their distress,
the lantern swung sharply in abrupt and shortening circles, and the
shadows, like arms, thrust out at her from the unseen and filled
her with a new and nameless terror. The motion of the vessel was
sickening. And the black, noisome air, from which there was no escape,
seemed to fill her very brain and poison her faculties.
With a blind effort she arose, and in affright at she knew not what
crept up the ladder to the hatch. It were better to die the death at
once than to be poisoned by inches. She drank gratefully of the purer
air above her and listened to the sounds of shouting from the deck.
There was a shock and a crash as the ships came together, and then all
sounds, save at intervals, were lost in the grinding of the vessels and
the roar of the sea between. She heard several shots as though at a
great distance, but these were as nothing after the noise of the great
guns, and she almost smiled as she thought how easily the victory was
accomplished.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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