The Survivors of the Chancellor Read Online Free Page B

I
asked him point blank:
    "What was the matter in the night, Curtis?"
    He looked at me steadily, but made no reply.
    "What was it?" I repeated. "M. Letourneur and myself were both of us disturbed by a very unusual commotion
overhead."
    "Oh, a mere nothing," he said at length; "the man at
the helm had made a false move, and we had to pipe hands
to brace the ship a bit; but it was soon all put to rights. It
was nothing, nothing at all."
    I said no more; but I can not resist the impression that
Robert Curtis has not acted with me in his usual straightforward manner.

Chapter VIII - Fire on Board
*
    OCTOBER 15 to October 18. — The wind is still in the
northeast. There is no change in the Chancellor's course,
and to an unprejudiced eye all would appear to be going on
as usual. But I have an uneasy consciousness that something is not quite right. Why should the hatchways be so
hermetically closed as though a mutinous crew was imprisoned between decks? I can not help thinking too that
there is something in the sailors so constantly standing in
groups and breaking off their talk so suddenly whenever we
approach; and several times I have caught the word
"hatches" which arrested M. Letourneur's attention on the
night of the disturbance.
    On the 15th, while I was walking on the forecastle, I overheard one of the sailors, a man named Owen, say to his
mates:
    "Now I just give you all warning that I am not going
to wait until the last minute. Everyone for himself, say I."
    "Why, what do you mean to do?" asked Jynxstrop, the
cook.
    "Pshaw!" said Owen, "do you suppose that longboats
were only made for porpoises?"
    Something at that moment occurred to interrupt the conversation, and I heard no more. It occurred to me whether
there was not some conspiracy among the crew, of which
probably Curtis had already detected the symptoms. I am
quite aware that some sailors are most rebelliously disposed,
and required to be ruled with a rod of iron.
    Yesterday and to-day I have observed Curtis remonstrating somewhat vehemently with Captain Huntly, but there
is no obvious result arising from their interviews; the captain apparently being bent upon some purpose, of which it
is only too manifest that the mate decidedly disapproves.
    Captain Huntly is undoubtedly laboring under strong
nervous excitement; and M. Letourneur has more than once
remarked how silent he has become at meal-times; for although Curtis continually endeavors to start some subject
of general interest, yet neither Mr. Falsten, Mr. Kear, nor
Mr. Ruby are the men to take it up, and consequently the
conversation flags hopelessly, and soon drops. The passengers too are now, with good cause, beginning to murmur
at the length of the voyage, and Mr. Kear, who considers
that the very elements ought to yield to his convenience, lets
the captain know by his consequential and haughty manner
that he holds him responsible for the delay.
    During the course of yesterday the mate gave repeated
orders for the deck to be watered again and again, and although as a general rule this is a business which is done, once
for all, in the early morning, the crew did not utter a word
of complaint at the additional work thus imposed upon them.
The tarpaulins on the hatches have thus been kept continually wet, so that their close and heavy texture is rendered
quite impervious to the air. The Chancellor's pumps afford
a copious supply of water, so that I should not suppose that
even the daintiest and most luxurious craft belonging to an
aristocratic yacht club was ever subject to a more thorough
scouring. I tried to reconcile myself to the belief that it
was the high temperature of the tropical regions upon which
we are entering, that rendered such extra sousings a necessity, and recalled to my recollection how, during the night
of the 13th, I had found the atmosphere below deck so
stifling, that in spite of the heavy swell I was obliged to open
the porthole of my cabin, on the starboard side, to get a
breath of