As soon as their watch was over, the two midshipmen went below, where they found Mrs Rumbelow seated on a chest, busily employed in darning her husband's stockings, or in some other feminine occupation, as was her wont: Mrs Rumbelow's fingers were never idle.

"Glad to see you, young gentlemen," she said, looking up from her work.

"Well, Mr Dicey, you don't look like the same person you were before we reached the Cape; by the time you get home again they won't know you."

"If all goes well with us, perhaps not," said w.i.l.l.y; "but Ensign Holt has gone and killed an albatross, and perhaps, as you know, that is a very dreadful thing to do. They say that evil is sure, in consequence, to come to the ship."

Mrs Rumbelow looked at the faces of her two young visitors. "Do you think seriously that G.o.d rules the world in that fashion?" she asked, in a somewhat scornful tone. "Because a foolish young gentleman happens to kill a bird, will He who counts the hairs of our heads allow a number of His creatures, who have nothing to do with the matter, to suffer in consequence. Do not let such nonsense enter your heads, my dears."

"We wanted you, Mrs Rumbelow, to inquire of the seamen what they think about the matter," said w.i.l.l.y.

"I will do no such thing, and that's my answer," replied the sergeant's wife; "harm may come to the ship, but it won't be because of that, or anything of the sort."

Just then Sergeant Rumbelow himself came up: in appearance he was very unlike his wife. Whereas she was tall and thin, he was comparatively short and broad; indeed, though of the regulation height, his width made him appear shorter than he really was; while his countenance, though burnt and tanned by southern suns and exposure to all sorts of weather, was fat and rubicund. He held his sides and laughed so heartily at the account his wife gave him of the questions which had been put to her, that w.i.l.l.y and Peter wished they had not mentioned the subject.

The wind was light and the ship made but little way for several days.

Shafto, though only a mate, did duty as a lieutenant. w.i.l.l.y was in his watch; it was the middle watch. w.i.l.l.y enjoyed such opportunities of talking with his friend. The sea was perfectly smooth, there was only wind sufficient just to fill the sails, and the ship was making scarcely three knots through the water. Every now and then a splash was heard; some monster of the deep rose to the surface, and leaping forth, plunged back again into its native element. Strange sounds seemed to come from the far distance. A thick fog arose and shrouded the ship, so that nothing could be seen beyond the bowsprit.

"Keep a bright look-out there, forward," sang out Shafto every now and then, in a clear ringing voice, which kept the watch forward on the alert.

"Hark!" said w.i.l.l.y; "I fancy I heard singing."

"You heard the creaking yards against the masts, perhaps," said Shafto.

"No, I am certain it is singing," exclaimed w.i.l.l.y; "listen!"

Harry and his companion stopped in their walk; even Harry could not help confessing that he heard sweet sounds coming over the water. "Some emigrant ship, perhaps, bound out to Auckland," he observed; "the pa.s.sengers are enjoying themselves on deck, unwilling to retire to their close cabins. Sounds travel a long distance over the calm waters. She is on our beam, I suspect; but we must take care not to run into each other, in case she should be more on the bow than I suppose." He hailed the forecastle to learn if the look-out could see anything. "Nothing in sight," was the answer. "Keep a bright look-out, then," he shouted.

"Ay, ay, sir," came from for'ard.

Soon after this the fog lifted. Far away on the starboard hand the dim outline of a tall ship appeared standing across their course. "She will pa.s.s under our stern if she keeps as she is now steering," observed Harry; "the voices we heard must have come from her."

The stranger approached, appearing like some vast phantom floating over the ocean, with her canvas spread on either hand to catch the light wind. "A sail on the starboard beam," shouted the look-out, as he discovered her. It appeared as if she would pa.s.s within easy hail, when, just as Harry Shafto had told w.i.l.l.y to get a speaking-trumpet, she appeared to melt into a thin mist.

"What has become of her?" exclaimed w.i.l.l.y, feeling somewhat awe-struck.

"She has run into a bank of fog which we had not perceived," said Shafto; "I will hail her;" and taking the speaking-trumpet, he shouted out, "What ship is that?" No answer came. Again he shouted, "This is Her Majesty's ship 'Ranger.'" All was silent. "Surely I cannot have been deceived," he remarked; "my hail would have been answered if it had been heard." w.i.l.l.y declared that he heard shouts and laughter, but Harry told him that was nonsense, and that undoubtedly the stranger was much further off than he had supposed her to be.

Before the watch was out, Harry had to turn the hands up to shorten sail; a strong breeze was blowing, increasing every instant in violence.

Before morning the "Ranger" was ploughing her way through the ocean under close-reefed topsails, now rising to the summit of a sea, now plunged into the trough below. It was w.i.l.l.y's first introduction to anything like a gale of wind.

"Well, Mr Dicey, you have at last got a sight of what the sea can be,"

said Roger Bolland, the boatswain, with whom w.i.l.l.y was a favourite.

"I have got a feeling, too, of what it can do," answered w.i.l.l.y, who was far from comfortable.

"Don't you go and give in, though, like the soldiers below," said the boatswain; "there are half of them on their backs already, and the gay young ensigns, who were boasting only the other day of what capital sailors they were, are as bad as the men."

Though the whole battalion had been sick, Mrs Rumbelow was not going to knock under. She was as lively and active as ever, going about to the ladies' cabins to a.s.sist them into their berths, and secure various articles which were left to tumble about at the mercy of the sea. If the truth must be known, she did not confine her attentions to them alone, but looked in as she pa.s.sed on the young ensigns, offering consolation to one, handing another a little cold brandy and water, and doing her best to take comfort to all.

At length, after the ship had been tumbled about for nearly ten days, the gale began to abate, the soldiers recovered their legs, though looking somewhat pale and woebegone, and the cabin pa.s.sengers once more appeared on deck. The weather, however, had by this time become very cold; there was no sitting down, as before, with work or book in hand, to while away the time; the ladies took to thick cloaks, and the military officers in their greatcoats walked the deck with rapid steps, as a matter of duty, for the sake of exercise. Gradually, too, the sea went down, and the "Ranger" glided forward on her course under her usual canvas.

Colonel Morley more than once asked the commander whether they had not by this time got into the lat.i.tude where icebergs were to be found. "We keep a sharp look-out for them, colonel, as I promised you," answered the commander. "They are not objects we are likely to run upon while the weather remains clear, and as long as we have a good breeze there is no fear. They are, I confess, awkward customers to fall in with in a thick foe during a calm."

"You may think I am over-anxious, captain," observed the colonel, "but we cannot be too cautious with so many lives committed to our charge; and when I tell you that I was sole survivor of the whole wing of a regiment on board a ship lost by the over-confidence of her commander when I was an ensign, you will not be surprised at my mentioning the subject."

"You are right, colonel, you are right," said Commander Newcombe. "I pray that no such accident will happen to us; but danger must be run, though we who are knocking about at sea all our lives are apt to forget the fact till it comes upon us somewhat suddenly."

w.i.l.l.y Dicey did not find keeping watch at night now quite so pleasant as in warmer lat.i.tudes; still, with his pea-coat b.u.t.toned well up to his chin, and his cap drawn tightly down over his head, he kept his post bravely on the forecastle, where he now had the honour of being stationed. "He is the most trustworthy midshipman on board," said Mr Tobin, the first-lieutenant. "I can always depend on him for keeping his eyes open, whereas Peter Patch is apt to shut his, and make-believe he is wide awake all the time." This praise greatly encouraged w.i.l.l.y.

He determined to do his best and deserve it. Blow high or blow low, he was at his station, never minding the salt sprays which dashed into his eyes, and at times nearly froze there, when the wind blew cold and strong.

The "Ranger" continued her course, making good way, the wind being generally favourable.

The only grumblers among the pa.s.sengers were three or four of the young lieutenants and ensigns, who, having finished all their novels, and not being addicted to reading works of a more useful description, found the time hang heavily on their hands. They ought to have followed the example of the Miss Morleys and their mother, who were never idle. Very little has. .h.i.therto been said about them. They were both very nice girls, without a particle of affectation or nonsense, though they had lived in barracks for some portion of their lives. f.a.n.n.y, the eldest, was fair, with blue eyes, somewhat _retrousse_ nose, and good figure, and if not decidedly pretty, the expression of her countenance was so pleasing that no one found fault with any of her features. Emma was dark, not quite so tall as her sister, but decidedly handsomer, with hazel eyes and beautifully formed nose and mouth. As yet, perhaps, they had had no opportunity of giving decided proof of any higher qualities they may have possessed, but they were both right-minded, religious girls. Some of the officers p.r.o.nounced them far too strict, others considered them haughty, and one or two even ventured to p.r.o.nounce them prudish, because they showed no taste for the frivolous amus.e.m.e.nts in which the ordinary run of young ladies indulge; not that they objected to dance, or to join in a pleasant pic-nic; indeed, the few who did find fault with them complained only of the way in which they did those things. Ensign Holt, who was not a favourite, whispered that he thought them very deep, and that time would show whether they were a bit better than other people. Neither f.a.n.n.y nor Emma would have cared much for the opinion of Ensign Holt, even had they been aware of it. He might possibly have been prejudiced, from the fact that Mrs Morley, though very kind and motherly to all the young officers, had found it necessary to encourage him less than the rest. Ensign Holt, and indeed most of his brother officers, had no conception of the principles which guided the Misses Morley or their parents. They looked upon their colonel as not a bad old fellow, though rather slow; but somehow or other he managed to keep his regiment in very good order, and all the men loved him, and looked up to him as to a father. It was his custom to read the Bible every day in his cabin to his wife and daughters; and as there was no chaplain on board, he acted the part of one for the benefit of his men. His sermons were delivered in a fine clear voice, and were certainly not too long for the patience of his hearers; but Ensign Holt insisted that they were too strict: he did not like that sort of theology. Lieutenants Dawson and Hickman were inclined to echo Holt's opinion. Whatever the captains thought, they had the good taste to keep it to themselves. Indeed, Power, the senior captain in the regiment, was suspected of having a leaning toward the colonel's sentiments. No one, however, could say that he was slow or soft: he was known to have done several gallant acts, and was a first-rate officer, a keen sportsman, and proficient in all athletic exercises. It was whispered that Power was the only man likely to succeed with either the Miss Morleys, though, as far as was observed, he paid them no particular attention; indeed, he was not looked upon as a marrying man. He was the only unmarried captain on board. Captain Gosling had left his wife at home; and Mrs Twopenny was in delicate health, and generally kept her cabin. She has not before been mentioned. There were no other ladies on board, but there were several soldiers' wives, with their children, though, altogether, there were fewer women than are generally found in a troop-ship.

A calm unusual for these lat.i.tudes had prevailed for several days. Now and then a light wind would come from the northward, just filling the sails, but again dying away; now the ship glided slowly over the smooth water; now she remained so stationary that the chips of wood swept overboard from the carpenter's bench floated for hours together alongside.

Peter Patch asked w.i.l.l.y whether he did not think that the fate which befell the ship of the Ancient Mariner was likely to be theirs.

"I hope not," said w.i.l.l.y; "particularly if the icebergs, which they say are not far off, should get round us, we should find it terribly cold."

"But we should not die of thirst, as the crew of that unfortunate ship did," observed Peter; "that's one comfort."

"Very cold comfort, though," said w.i.l.l.y, who now and then ventured on a joke, if only Peter and some other youngster were within hearing.

CHAPTER FIVE.

"ICEBERG AHEAD!"

A GALE SPRINGS UP--A DARK NIGHT--SOUND OF BREAKERS--SHIP RUNNING ON AN ICEBERG--THE "RANGER" Sc.r.a.pES ALONG THE BERG--PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE-- ENSIGN HOLT'S ALARM--THE CARPENTER REPORTS A LEAK--THE CHAIN-PUMPS RIGGED--THE "RANGER" ON HER BEAM-ENDS--THE MASTS CUT AWAY--RUNNING BEFORE THE GALE--ALL HANDS AT THE PUMPS--THE WEATHER MODERATES--PREPARE TO RIG JURY-MASTS.

Once more a strong breeze had sprung up from the westward, and the ship was making good way through the water.

Though it was the summer time in the southern hemisphere, the weather was very variable; now, when the wind came from the antarctic pole, bitterly cold; or drawing round and blowing from the north, after it had pa.s.sed over the warm waters of the Indian Ocean, it was soft and balmy.

It was Harry Shafto's morning watch; he had just relieved the second-lieutenant. w.i.l.l.y was for'ard. It was blowing somewhat fresh, and the ship had a reef in her topsails and her courses set. The night was very dark. w.i.l.l.y having just been aroused from a midshipman's sound sleep, was rubbing his eyes to get them clear. Now he peered out ahead into the darkness, now he rubbed them again, and shut and opened them, to satisfy himself that they were in good order. He could not distinguish who was on the forecastle, but he knew by the voice that one of the best men in the ship, Paul Lizard, was by his side.

"I have seen many a dark night, Mr Dicey, but this pretty well beats them all," observed Paul. "It's not one I should like to be caught in on a lee-sh.o.r.e or a strange coast; though out here, in the open sea, there is nothing to fear, as the highway is a pretty wide one, and we are not likely to fall in with any other craft crossing our course."

"Very true," answered w.i.l.l.y; "but there is one thing I have been told to do, and that is to keep a bright look-out, though it may be difficult enough to see an object; even should one be ahead."

"On course, sir," said Paul, "what is our duty must be done, though it would be a hard matter to see the 'David Dunn' of Dover, even if our jibboom were over her taffrail."

"What ship is that?" asked w.i.l.l.y. "I never heard of her."

"The biggest ship that ever was or ever will be, sir," answered Paul, who was fond of a joke. "When she went about going up Channel once, her spanker pretty nigh swept away one of the towers of Calais, while her jibboom run right into Dover Castle."

"She must have been a big ship, then," said w.i.l.l.y.