The Survivors of the Chancellor

Chapter 10

All day long on the 20th, the passengers were assembled on the

poop. Evidently they found the heat of the cabins painfully

oppressive, and most of them lay stretched upon benches and

quietly enjoyed the gentle rolling of the vessel. The increasing

heat of the deck did not reveal itself to their well-shod feet

and the constant scouring of the boards did not excite any

suspicion in their torpid minds. M. Letourneur, it is true, did

express his surprise that the crew of an ordinary merchant vessel

should be distinguished by such extraordinary cleanliness, but as

I replied to him in a very casual tone, he passed no further

remark. I could not help regretting that I had given Curtis my

pledge of silence, and longed intensely to communicate the

melancholy secret to the energetic Frenchman; for at times when I

reflect upon the eight-and-twenty victims who may probably, only

too soon, be a prey to the relentless flames, my heart seems

ready to burst.

The important consultation between captain, mate, lieutenant, and

boatswain has taken place. Curtis has confided the result to me.

He says that Huntly, the captain, is completely demoralized; he

has lost all power and energy; and practically leaves the command

of the ship to him. It is now certain the fire is beyond

control, and that sooner or later it will burst out in full

violence The temperature of the crew's quarters has already

become almost unbearable. One solitary hope remained; it is that

we may reach the shore before the final catastrophe occurs. The

Lesser Antilles are the nearest land; and although they are some

five or six hundred miles away, if the wind remains north-east

there is yet a chance of reaching them in time.

Carrying royals and studding-sails, the "Chancellor" during the

last four-and-twenty hours has held a steady course. M.

Letourneur is the only one of all the passengers who has remarked

the change of tack; Curtis however, has set all speculation on

his part to rest by telling him that he wanted to get ahead of

the wind, and that he was tacking to the west to catch a

favourable current.

To-day, the 21st, all has gone on as usual; and as far as the

observation of the passengers has reached, the ordinary routine

has been undisturbed. Curtis indulges the hope even yet that by

excluding the air, the fire may be stifled before it ignites the

general cargo; he has hermetically closed every accessible

aperture, and has even taken the precaution of plugging the

orifices of the pumps, under the impression that their suction-

tubes, running as they do to the bottom of the hold, may possibly

be channels for conveying some molecules of air. Altogether, he

considers it a good sign that the combustion has not betrayed

itself by some external issue of smoke.

The day would have passed without any incident worth recording if

I had not chanced to overhear a fragment of a conversation which

demonstrated that our situation hitherto precarious enough, had

now become most appalling.

As I was sitting on the poop, two of my fellow-passengers,

Falsten, the engineer, and Ruby, the merchant whom I had observed

to be often in company, were engaged in conversation almost close

to me. What they said was evidently not intended for my hearing,

but my attention was directed towards them by some very emphatic

gestures of dissatisfaction on the part of Falsten, and I could

not forbear listening to what followed.

"Preposterous! shameful!" exclaimed Falsten; "nothing could be

more imprudent."

"Pooh! pooh!" replied Ruby; "it's all right; it is not the

first time I have done it."

"But don't you know that any shock at any time might cause an

explosion?"

"Oh, it's all properly secured," said Ruby, "tight enough; I have

no fears on that score, Mr, Falsten."

"But why," asked Falsten, "did you not inform the captain?"

"Just because if I had informed him, he would not have taken the

case on board."

The wind dropped for a few seconds; and for a brief interval I

could not catch what passed; but I could see that Falsten

continued to remonstrate, whilst Ruby answered by shrugging his

shoulders. At length I heard Falsten say,--

"Well, at any rate the captain must be informed of this, and the

package shall be thrown overboard. I don't want, to be blown

up."

I started. To what could the engineer be alluding? Evidently he

had not the remotest suspicion that the cargo was already on

fire. In another moment the words "picrate of potash" brought

me to my feet? and with an involuntary impulse I rushed up to

Ruby, and seized him by the shoulder.

"Is there picrate of potash on board?" I almost shieked.

"Yes," said Falsten, "a case containing thirty pounds."

"Where is it?" I cried.

"Down in the hold, with the cargo."