CHAPTER XXIV. IN THE GRIP OF THE STORM.
Ziz-z-z-z-z-z!
A ragged, flaming bolt of lightning ripped across the black sky. Itshowed the broad reach of the St. Lawrence in the vicinity ofPiquetville lashed into a fury of white-capped waves and turbulentwaters.
Through the furious electric storm the _River Swallow_ was wallowingalong, rolling and plunging terrifically. Owing to her narrow beam, thecraft was far more "cranky" than an ordinary boat, and to anyone notused to her actions in rough water, the experience would have been analarming one. Besides being familiar with the craft he was guiding,however, Ralph had other things to worry him beside the storm.
For one thing, La Rue,--or Hawke, as Ralph still knew him,--was standingbeside him, pistol in hand, and from what Ralph knew of the man, therewas little doubt that he would hesitate to use the weapon if the needarose. The boy had another cause for worry in the fact that he did notknow what his companions, who had gone ashore, would think of thedisappearance of the _River Swallow_. He knew that they would beworrying over his situation on board her, and the thought of theiranxiety disquieted him to the full as much as his own predicament.
But, with it all, Ralph had a certain grim satisfaction in one factor ofhis problem. Below decks in a bunk, with a badly damaged head, incurredin his fall down the steps leading from the bridge, lay Malvin. The manwas incapacitated for duty and was, in fact, only half conscious. As hehad fallen from the bridge, it was La Rue who had seized Ralph's armsbefore the boy could sound the alarm, and who had ordered Ralph, uponthe pain of being shot down, to steer the _River Swallow_ out of theharbor. The young skipper had no recourse but to obey, and so the _RiverSwallow_ was struggling with the storm, with an inexperiencedman--Hansen--in the engine room and on the bridge a boy who was menacedwith a pistol in the hands of the diamond smuggler.
With the storm had arisen a wind that screeched and howled like awitches' carnival about the _River Swallow_. The craft was rather highout of the water and of light draught, like most of the St. LawrenceRiver craft. She pitched and rolled awesomely under the blast. There wasno real danger, as Ralph well knew, but, as has been said, to anyoneunused to her violent motions in a storm, the wild behavior of the_River Swallow_ was, to say the least, alarming.
To complicate matters, it was pitchy dark, the frequent flashes oflightning alone illumining the gloom. The wind was blowing the same wayas the current, and below them lay a labyrinth of rapids, shoals andislands that required an experienced skipper to thread, even bydaylight.
"This is a fine fix," thought Ralph to himself, as the wind tore abouthim, the waters rolled high and the lightning flashed and zigzaggedacross the thunder-ridden sky. "If I ever get the _River Swallow_through this without piling her up on a shoal or getting the bottomripped out of her in some rapids, I'm entitled to a gold medal."
"Will this get worse?" asked La Rue.
The boy noted with glee that there was a note of apprehension in thefellow's voice.
"I hope not," Ralph rejoined, shaking his head fearsomely.
"Why?" La Rue was scared. It was plain enough in his voice, which wasnervous and jerky. "Are--are we in any danger?" he demanded tremblingly.
"The--the very g-g-g-greatest," exclaimed Ralph, cleverly acting thepart of a seriously alarmed young skipper.
"You mean that if the storm does not die down we may be wrecked?"
"The storm will get a lot worse before it gets any better," rejoinedRalph. "This is one of the worst nights I have ever seen on the river."
The _River Swallow_ gave a fearful roll, almost burying her lee gunwalein flying spume. An exclamation that was almost a shriek burst from LaRue's lips. The man was ashen pale. He was terrified, and, moreover, hewas becoming conscious of another feeling. What this was, we shall seebefore long.
"Gracious! I thought we were gone that time!" cried Ralph, appearing tobe on the verge of panic.
"Then there is a pup-pup-possibility that the boat may capsize?"
"I shouldn't wonder," said Ralph gravely.
A groan escaped La Rue.
"You really think that, ker-ker-captain?"
Ralph couldn't help smiling at the title La Rue had conferred on him inhis fawning, miserable fright.
"Of course I do," replied Ralph. "Why, her timbers are very thin. Shewas only built for a racing machine, not for such work as this."
Bang! Who-o-o-o-f!
A big sea, which Ralph had purposely met quartering, smote the _RiverSwallow_ a terrific buffet on the port bow. The spray and spume flewhigh in the air, drenching the occupants of the bridge.
"A few more of those and we're goners, sure," said Ralph with a grin,which he had to turn away his face to conceal, as La Rue broke into awhimper.
"Isn't there anything you can do, captain?"
"Nothing, except trust to Providence that we don't go to the bottomwithin the next half hour," rejoined Ralph.
Another huge wave hit the craft. A tremor ran through her but it wasnothing to the anguish that convulsed the terrified La Rue as the seastruck.
He was now a ghastly blending of two hues, a pasty yellow, a greenishwhite.
Biff! Bang! Another buffeting blow. Skipper Ralph was actually beginningto enjoy himself.
"Oh-h-h-h! Ah-h-h-h!" quivered the frightened wretch at his elbow.
"Hadn't you better hand me that pistol?" asked Ralph sweetly. "You mightshoot yourself, you know."
A groan was the only response from La Rue. The man was abject,disgusting in his cravenness.
But Ralph had no mercy upon him.
"It's getting worse," he said positively.
"Wer-wer-worse!"
"That's what. I did think for a while that we might weather it. I knowdifferent now. Hawke, we have not much longer to live."
"Der-der-der-do you mer-mer-mer-mean that we are ger-ger-going to bed-d-d-drowned?" stuttered La Rue, clasping his hands.
"Brace up! Don't be a coward! Face drowning like a man, Hawke!"
And skipper Ralph contrived it so that another big wave came racing androlling over the _River Swallow's_ sharp bow. It was the last straw. LaRue went to pieces utterly.