CHAPTER I

  THE FIRST STRUGGLE

  The engine-room floor-plates slanted, and light and shadow played aboutthe throbbing machinery. It looked as if the lamps swung in asemicircle, but they did not. All else slanted at an ever-changingangle; the swiveled lamps were still. Overhead the dark and bulkycylinders cut against the reflected glimmer on the skylights; below,valve-gear and connecting-rod flashed across the gloom, and thetwinkling cranks spun in their shallow pit. One saw the big columnsshake and strain as the crosshead shot up and down; the thrust-blocksgroaned with the back push of the propeller.

  A door in the bulkhead was open, and now and then a blaze from thestokehold lighted the engine-room. Shovels clanged and the thud of ahammer jarred upon the throb of machinery. Men moved about like ghosts.Their feet made no noise; for a moment one saw their sweat-streakedfaces and then they vanished. Lister sat on a tool-box, an old pipe inhis mouth, and was happier than he had been for long. For one thing, hismen were getting sober and he saw they knew their job; then he wassatisfied with his engines and relished the sense of control. He was_chief_, and until the tug came back from Africa the engines were his.

  In the meantime he need not move about. It was like listening to anorchestra of which he knew all the instruments, and he heard no jarringnotes. The harmony was good and the rhythm well marked. The clash andclang rose and fell with a measured beat; but the smooth running of hisengines did not account for all Lister's satisfaction. In a sense,Barbara had given him his job, he was her servant, doing her work, andthis was much, although he scarcely durst hope for another reward.

  Cartwright had not without careful thought sent Lister on board. He knewthe young fellow's staunchness as he knew Barbara's, and, because hisneed was great, had not hesitated to use him and the girl. He was oldand must be resigned to sit at his desk and plan, but, as a rule, hisplans worked, and he had a talent for choosing his tools. When it waspossible, he used his tools carefully; he hated to overstrain finematerial.

  _Terrier's_ regular lurch and roll indicated that she was steaming alongthe coast, in some shelter from the wind that blew obliquely off theland. By and by, however, the lurches got violent, and when Lister heardthe thud of water on deck he went up, and opening the door on the leeside, looked out. Water splashed against the ledge that protected theengine-room; the stack of coal worked and he heard big lumps fall. Sprayblew across the bulwarks and fell in heavy showers from a boat on theskids. For a few moments this was all he could distinguish, and then hesaw slopes of water slanting away from the tug's low side. A half-moonshone for a few moments between ragged clouds and was hidden.

  Lister stepped across the ledge and went aft. _Terrier_ felt the drag ofthe hulk astern, and he wanted to see how she was towing. He heard theiron ring clang on the hook, and when he stopped by the horse, the bigtow-rope surged to and fro across the arch. The hulk steered wildly, andif the sea got worse, he doubted if they could hold her. He knew wherehe was, because he had steamed along the coast on board the cattle boat.The Anglesey shore was fringed by reefs, the tide-races ran in whiteturmoil across the ledges. The tide had now nearly run out, but whenthey turned the corner at Carmel Point they would meet the flood streamand the big combers the gale drove up channel. Going to the pilot-house,Lister lighted his pipe.

  "A fierce night!" he remarked to Brown, who peered through thespray-swept glass. "I reckon you'll want to slow down when we makeCarmel."

  The house was dark, but Lister saw the captain turn. "I'm bothered,"Brown admitted. "We ought to push on, but while we might tow the hulkunder, we can't tow her down channel. We can't turn and run; it'sblowing down the Menai Strait like a bellows spout, and there's all theMersey sands to leeward. We have got to face the sea and try to makeHolyhead. Will your engines shove her through?"

  "They'll give you six or seven knots, head to wind. Will your tow ropehold?"

  "I doubt. We have a steel hawser ready, but if she breaks the hemp ropeshe'll probably break the wire."

  Lister agreed. The thick hemp rope stretched and absorbed the strain;the wire was less elastic. They were approaching Carmel Point, andHolyhead was not far, but they must front the gale when they got roundthe corner. In the meantime, the engines were running smoothly, andLister smoked and waited while the sea got worse. Flashing lights aheadand the violent lurching indicated that they crept round the point. Then_Terrier_ plunged into a white sea and deck and bulwarks vanished. Herbows swung out of the foam and Lister ran to the door. He felt the tugleap forward and knew the rope had gone.

  He got out in front of Brown and plunged down the ladder. Since_Terrier_ must be stopped and turned, he was needed. Water ran from hisclothes when he reached a slanted platform and seized a greasy wheel.The telegraph gong was clanging and the beat of engines slackened as hefollowed the orders. Then the spinning cranks stopped altogether and fora minute or two there was a strange quietness. One heard the wind, andwater splashed in the bilges.

  Lister got the signal _Ahead slow_, and when he restarted his enginesran up the ladder. He could trust the man he left, and wanted to seewhat was happening. It was a moment or two before he could satisfy hiscuriosity, and then a bright beam illuminated the tug and angry water.Brown was burning a blue-light while _Terrier_ crept up to the hulk. Hemeant to pass the fresh hawser, but could not launch a boat, and Listerdoubted if the men on the hulk could heave the heavy wire rope on board.Although one must get near to throw a line, it looked as if Brown weregoing alongside.

  Two dark figures, crouched on _Terrier's_ rail like animals ready tospring, cut against the blaze. Brown was going alongside; anyhow, he wasgoing near enough for the men to jump, but the thing was horribly risky.If the rolling hulk struck the tug planks and iron plates would bebeaten in; moreover the men must jump from the slanted rail, and if theyjumped short, their long boots and oilskins would drag them down.

  It looked as if Cartwright knew how to choose men for an awkward job,for as the tug got nearer Lister saw the men meant to go. She swung upon the top of a white sea; the hulk, swept by spray, rolled down, withher deck close below the steamer's rail. One felt they must shock, butthey did not. The dark figures leaped, there was a faint shout, a linewhirled out from _Terrier's_ bridge and the hulk drove astern. Then theblue light vanished and Lister plunged into the engine-room. Somehow thething was done.

  The gong signaled _Half-speed_, the rhythmic clash of engines began, andLister felt _Terrier_ tremble as she tightened the rope. Brown hadplayed his part and Lister's had begun. He wondered whether they couldkeep the water out of the engine-room. They had drifted off-shore, andnow they had opened up the channel the combers leaped on board. The seaswere not regular; they ran in short, steep ridges, and gave the tug notime to lift. While she swung her bows from the foaming turmoil the nextswept her deck. But to watch the seas and keep the hulk in line was thecaptain's business, and Lister was occupied by his.

  Standing on a slanted platform with his hand on the throttle, he waitedfor the lurch that lifted the spinning screw. When the blades left thewater, the engines raced with a horrible din and he must cut off steam.If he let the engines go, something might break when the propeller gothold again. The work demanded a firm but delicate touch, since thepressure must change with the swiftly-changing load. One could not arguewhen the bows would plunge and the stern swing clear; one must knowinstinctively. The muscular effort was not hard, but Lister's face waswet with sweat, and when he was slow and the engine-room rang with theclash of machinery his heart beat. The big columns that held thecylinders rocked; crank and connecting-rod spun too fast for him to see.There was a confusing flash of steel and a daunting uproar.

  For the most part, he was able to get control before the stern camedown. Moreover, he was not using full steam; to let her go would swampthe boat and wash the men off the laboring hulk. Lister knew the ropeheld because he felt the heavy drag. Although she rolled and plunged,there was no life in _Terrier's_ movements. She was sluggish,embarrassed by the load she hauled.
br />   Lister thought about the men on board the hulk. Two, buffeted by windand spray, must hold the wheel on the short quarter-deck that liftedthem above the shelter of the bulwarks. Forward of this, the waterrolled about, washing on board and pouring out. The men could not for amoment slack their watchfulness. Sweating and straining at the spokes,they must hold her straight. To let her sheer when she crossed acomber's top would break the rope.

  The strain on the laboring engines indicated that the men held out andLister fixed his thoughts on his machinery. One could not see much, butwhile he turned the valve-wheel he listened. If a bearing got hot or abrass shook loose, he would hear the jar. An engine running as it oughtto run was like a well-tuned instrument.

  He heard no discord. The heavy thud of the cross-heads, flashing betweentheir guides, beat time to the clang of the valve-gear, a pump throbbedlike a kettledrum, and something tinkled like a high-pitched triangle.All went well, the engines were good and _Terrier_ stubbornly forgedahead.

  By and by the strain was less marked. The load was getting lighter andafter a time Lister let go the wheel and wiped his wet face. He couldstand on the platform without support, the plunges were easy andregular. Calling a man to relieve him, he went to the door.

  The sea was white, but it no longer ran in crested ridges and a vaguedark line crossed the foam ahead. Sometimes part of the line vanishedand reappeared like a row of dots with broad gaps between. Lister knewit was breakwater. On the other side anchor-lights tossed, and in thebackground a dull, reflected illumination indicated a town. Then thegong rang and Lister went back to the platform. In a few minutes hewould get the signal to stop his engines. The first struggle was over;Brown had made Holyhead.