Chapter 50
The Count was silent, and all looked on whilst in obedience to the skipper's orders the English sailors, led by the carpenter, set busily to work, seized upon the new spare sails that were brought up on deck, and cast loose the coils of fresh hemp line that were placed ready.
Then with the skipper putting in a word here and there, resulting in the lines being attached to the corners of the largest square-sail, these latter were seized by a couple of the men, who dragged the sail forward as the brig glided very gently along, for it was nearly calm, and then pa.s.sing the new sail deftly beneath the bowsprit, two of the men climbing out and seeming to cling with their feet to the bobstay until little by little they had got the edge right beneath the stay. Then while their mates at the corners helped at the lines, they pa.s.sed down the sail right into the sea till they had lowered it to its full extent and they could do no more, save once or twice when they hung down from the stay and gave the canvas, which was slowly growing saturated, a thrust or two with the foot where it seemed disposed to hitch against the brig's keel.
And now the skipper took his post upon the bowsprit and gave his orders by word or sign to the men who governed the movement of the great square of canvas by means of the lines attached to the corners, the two at the fore corners of the sail getting outside the bulwarks, barefooted, to walk along the streak, and hauling just as much as was necessary to drag the sail right beneath the keel, their two messmates preparing to follow, and under the captain's guidance keeping all square and exact in the effort to get the keel to act as the dividing line to mark the oblong into two exact portions.
It was very slow work, for the canvas was stiff and moved unwillingly downward beneath the keel; but after a time it began to yield to the steady drag of the ropes upon the two fore corners, and, once started, progress began to be faster. For, so to speak, the brig began to help, sailing as it were gently more and more over the canvas, till at the end of about half-an-hour it was in the position at which the skipper had aimed, having while below in the hold pretty well marked down the position of the two holes made by the shot from the fort. These were about amids.h.i.+ps, some few feet, as far as he could make out, on either side of the keel, one naturally being much higher than the other in the diagonal course taken by the heavy ball.
At last he called to his men to halt, and took off his cap, to stand thinking, the position now being that the sail was drawn right under the brig, and the sailors at the four corners were holding on tight to prevent the vessel from sailing clear.
So far not a word had been uttered by the Frenchmen, all of whom had stood clear or mounted the rigging or deck-house, so as to give the Englishmen ample room; but now in the silence Rodd advanced to the skipper eagerly, to say--
"Are you sure you have got the canvas well over the holes?"
Captain Chubb made no reply, but stood with his cap in his left hand gazing aft, and then he moved his right arm two or three times, as if forming an imaginary line through the brig's hull.
"Did you hear me, captain?" said Rodd eagerly. "Are you
"No," granted the skipper. "Are you?"
"No; but I thought--"
"Yes, my lad; so did I. You thought we ought to get the sail in the right place."
"Yes," said Rodd.
"Well, then, now, my lad, I should be much obliged to you if you'd tell me which is exactly the right place."
Rodd looked at him in despair.
"Thank you, my lad," said the skipper dryly. "I am much obliged. But all right, Mr Rodd; you can't tell, and I can't tell. We know that the ball that came from the fort must have gone downwards a bit, so that it went out from lower than where it went in; but there's no knowing whether she was..h.i.t from starboard or from larboard, and that's where I'm bothered. But never say die. I think we will make this bit of canvas fast now, for I'm pretty sure of one thing; it will be a plaister for one hole if it isn't for the other."
"But look here, captain," cried Rodd.
"What now?"
"Won't the water run under the canvas just the same as it did before?"
"No, my lad, it won't; and I'll tell you the reason why when we have done. Of course you know I am not going to stop all the water from coming in below, but if I can get it checked a bit so that they can keep it down easy with one man at the pump instead of two, she won't go to the bottom just yet, and they will have time enough to get into port to set the carpenter at work."
"Then you won't let our carpenter try to stop the holes?"
"No, my lad. You see, he never learned to be a fish, so that he could work under water; and though he's a bit of a crab in his way, I don't think he could manage it for all that. Now I'm ready to go on. Come, my lads, put your backs into it and haul them sheets tight. Here, master, let two of your men go to each corner and help my lads. All together as hard as they can!" shouted the skipper, and the Count quickly translated his order.
"That's right! Haul away, my lads!" shouted the skipper. "That new canvas won't give. Harder! Harder! Now then, one more--all you know!--Make fast!"
"Excellent! Superb!" cried the Count, as the men ceased from making fast the ropes, which were brought over the bulwarks and pa.s.sed round the belaying pins. "Do you think that will stop the leak?"
"Maybe yes, sir; maybe no. If it don't do it we will put another plaister on, and another, and another. You have got plenty of spare sails and rope, and when we have used all yours I dare say we can find some more in the schooner. Now then, set your men going at that pump, and rig up another as quick as you can."
One pump began to clank heavily at once, and a short time after another was at work, and the clear bright water began to sparkle out of the scuppers, while, moved as it were by the same spirit, the French crew burst into a shrill involuntary cheer.
"How can I ever thank you, captain?" cried the Count, while his son s.n.a.t.c.hed at Rodd's hand.
"Ah, I haven't done yet, sir," said the skipper coolly. "This is only a try."
"Oh, it's grand," cried the French lad, clinging to Rodd's arm. "You have saved our s.h.i.+p."
"Don't you holloa till you are out of the wood, young fellow," said the skipper, as he heard the words. "Now, Mr Rodd, sir, what was it you wanted to know?"
"Why the water will not still rim in underneath the canvas."
"Only because of this, my lad. Aren't they pumping the water out now as fast as ever they can?"
"Yes," cried Rodd; "but more will run in."
"Yes, my lad, and as it runs in won't the weight of the water outside push the canvas closer and closer in round the leak?"
"Yes, of course," cried Rodd. "I didn't think of that. And as there gets less inside it will seem to suck the canvas closer to."
"Quite right, my lad. That's about the way it works; and now we have got to wait for about an hour before we can know whether we have got both holes covered, or only one."
"Wait for an hour?" cried Rodd.
"Well, perhaps, before we are sure; but I dare say I shall be going down and sounding the well a time or two before that."
But long before the hour had elapsed the skipper found that though the water in the brig had subsided to a certain extent, one of the holes must be still uncovered, and he began at once to repeat his proceedings, coming to the conclusion that one of the bullet-holes was beyond the reach of the canvas. This time, after all was drawn tight, half-an-hour's pumping proved that his surmises were correct, and the skipper smiled with satisfaction as the Count and his men cheered them in delight on finding after a good deal of pumping that there was a very perceptible diminution of the water in the hold.
"It is superb, and so simple," cried the Count to Uncle Paul; "but I feel humbled, sir. Why could not our French sailors have been able to do this?"
"Well," said Uncle Paul good-humouredly, "the only reason I can give is that they were not English."
"That's it, sir," said the skipper. "You have hit the right nail on the head. But look here, Mr Count--I don't know your name."
"Des Saix," said the Count, smiling.
"Look here, sir; this is nothing to make a fuss about. It will keep you afloat while the weather's fine, but just come a rough time, those sails will be ripped off as easily as pocket-handkerchiefs. Besides, they will hinder your sailing no end."
"Ah, that is bad," said the Count, changing countenance.
"Oh no, not it. There's worse disasters than that at sea."
"But will it not be possible for the carpenters to stop the leaks?"
"No, sir; not unless you do what I say."
"Ah! What is that?"
"Run your craft up one of the rivers to where you can careen on the mad, and then a few hours between tides will be enough to put everything straight."
"Is there no other way?" asked the Count.