Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-08-13
The Story Of a Wreck.
Thrilling and Romantic Account Of
O Mutiny at Sea.
BY w. CLARK RUSSELL.

away the weather rigging and sung
out to the boatswain to cut away to
leeward.
BY the time reached the deck all
was adrift to leeward, and the mast
was now held in its place by the
weather backstays. 1 dropped into
the chains and there helped the boats
vain with my knife, and, watching an
| opportunity when the ship rolled
heavily to 1eeward, we cut through the
lanyards of the top-gallant backstay,
and the whole structure of spar, yards
and rigging went flying overheard.
Encouraged by the success of these
operations. and we'll knowing that a
large measure of our safety depended
upon our easing the ship of her top
hammer, l sung out that we would
now cut away the mizzen-top-gal
mast and once more went aloft,
though the boatswain begged hard to
take my place this time.
This spar, being much lighter and
smaller, did not threaten me so dan
gerously as the other had done, and,
in tolerably short space of time, we
had sent it flying overheard after the
main-top-gallantm mast; and all this we
did without further injury to ourselves
than a temporary deprivation of
strength and breath.
The ship had now the appearance of
wreck; and yet in her mutilated con-
dition was safer than she had been at
any moment since the gale first sprung
up. The easing her of all this top
weight seemed to make her as buoyant
as though we had got a hundred tons
of cargo out of her. Indeed, 1 was
now satisfied, providing every thing
stood, and the wind did not increase
in violence, that she would be able to
ride out the gale.
Cornish Gas well as the boatswain
and myself) was soaked through and
through; we therefore arranged that
the boatswain and 1 should go below
and shift our clothes, and that the
boatswain should then relieve Cornish
So down we went, l, for one, terri
bly, exhausted, but cheered all the same
by an honest hope that we should save
our lives and the ship, after all.
stepped into the pantry to swallow
dram, so as to get my nerves togeth-
er, for was trembling all over with
the WEAKNESS in me, and cold as ice on
the skin from the repeated housings l
had received, then changed my clothes;
and never was any thing more COM
forting and grateful than the feel of
the dry flannel and the warm stock
ings and sea-boots which l exchanged
for shoes that sopped like brown paper
and came to pieces in my hand when l
pulled them off.
The morning was now far advanced,
little past eleven o'clock. l was anx-
iOus to ask Miss Robertson how she did
and Knocked gently at her cabin door.
She responded by opening the door,
but the moment she saw me look of
agonizing sorrow came into her face,
and dropping into seat by the table
she buried her face in her hands.
| begged her not to be alarmed and
assured her of our comparative safety
She upturned her pale face, stream
ing with tears, and said the simple
words, but in tone 1 shall never for
get: Papa is deadn'
Was it so, indeedP
Here was blow l could not avert
a sorrow no labor could remit.
l took her hand and raised her and
entered the cabin hand-in-hand with
her. 1t was too true. The poor old
man lay silent corpse.
"God was with MIN when he died."
said, and l closed his poor eyes as
tenderly as my rough hands would let
me.
She looked at him, speechless with
grief, and burst Into an uncomfortable
fit of crying.
My love and tenderness, my deep
pity of her lonely helplessness, were all
SO great an impulse in me, that took
her in my arms and held her while she
sobbed upon my shoulder. l am sure
that she knew my sorrow was deep
and real, and that held her to my
heart that she might not feel her lone
illness.
She said she could not bear the
thought of being separated from her
father.
but you will not be separated from
him." / answered, ''even though you
should never see him more with your
eyes. He will always be with you in
your thoughts, a dear friend, kind
companion and father, as in life" And
thus in such words as l could find l
tried to console her.
She wept quietly and once or twice
looked up as though she would smile
through her tears. 1t happened that
my eye lighted on little Bible I had
carried with me on all my voyages,
and it seemed to me that this was
fitting time to invoke Gods mercy and
pray to him to watch over us.
She eagerly consented. The boat
swain could not leave the wheel to join
in our devotions so l went on deck and
said to him:
Bosom, 1 am going to call in
Cornish and the steward, and read
prayers and ask God for his protec-
ton. should have liked you, brave
old messmate, to join, but as you can't
leave the deck, pray with us in your
heart, will your"
AYE, aye, that will, heartily; an
hope for the lady's sake that God AL
mighty'll hear us, for I'd sooner die
myself thanohe should, poor CELL! for
I'm older, and it's my turn afore hers
by rights"
l clapped him on the back and went
below, where l called to the steward
and Cornish, both of whom came aft
on hearing my voice.
During my absence, Miss Robertson
had taken the Bible and laid it open on
the table; and when the two men came
in / said: