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Philiberta: A Novel

Chapter XVII. Foundered

Chapter XVII. Foundered.

When Philiberta entered her own chamber after she had parted from Edgar Paget, it was but to wait and listen till the way should be clear for clandestine exit. She must go. It mattered not how or whither, but she must go to find some dark corner where she might hide—perchance might heal—her 'grievous wound.' Would there be any place in the wide world where she might do that? Would the world be wide enough for her now? Oh, she must get hence quickly—this very hour—to see.

There was no one in the hall now; no one on the stairs, and all the doors were shut. So, softly, stealthily, she crept down and out, and hearing the hall-door slam heavily after her, rail till she was a long way from the house.

And now that she was out, what could she do? Well, she could walk—and rapid action was a relief to the pain—she could walk about the streets or on the hills till morning. Morning! Would there ever be morning for her again? Would she ever see the light of another day? Could she bear it if she did, with all this deathly darkness in her soul? What did people do when their hearts were broken? Death was page 121sent to them, surely. When an animal is hurt beyond remedy, merciful people kill it to put it out of its pain. What difference between an animal and a human being, except that the latter, doubtless, had keener capacity for suffering? Yet no one would kill a woman to put her out of her misery. She must live on, maimed and mutilated, wounded to the death, yet denied death's freedom. Unless she took the matter in her own hands and ended it. There was nothing to hinder her from that, save—the horror of it, and the sense of cowardice. Where was she now? for she could hear the sound of the sea. Ah, yes, she would go down on the wharves, there is always something lulling and comforting in the lapping, rippling sound of waves upon the shore. She walked rapidly down the Stafford Street jetty, and then became aware of lights and noise and bustle.

'Is there anything gone wrong?' she asked composedly of a man lounging there with his hands in his pockets. 'What is the matter?

'Naething that I ken o', 'ceptin' a steamer just starting',' was the leisurely reply.

'Starting? Where? Is she really going away?

'As far as I ken—aye.'

Philiberta ran from him into the thick of the crowd.

'Help me, somebody,' she cried. 'I want to go in this steamer.' A stout, short man, wearing a peaked cap, sprang from the deck of the vessel to the wharf—the distance was not more than four feet, but-widening every second—caught her up as if she had been a doll, and sprang back with her.

'A narrow squeak,' said he, setting her down angrily, 'Why the dickens can't women learn to be in time?'

'I beg your pardon,' said Philiberta deprecatingly, 'I did not know I was coming.'

'What? Hadn't you taken your passage?'—'No.'

'Nor got your luggage aboard?'—'No.'

'Then I'm dashed sorry I bothered about you. I'm fooled. But there's one consolation, the other one's missed it. Serve her right!

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He turned on his heel and walked forward, leaving Philiberta leaning bewilderedly against the rail.

The stewardess told her afterwards that that was the second mate; that a young lady had taken her passage that day and put her luggage aboard, and then gone up town to see some friends. And the second mate had evidently taken Philiberta for that young lady, who had certainly missed her passage now.

'Can you tell me where this steamer is bound for, please? asked Philiberta.

And the stewardess was so astounded that she said, 'Well, I'm blest!' under her breath.

Aloud she said, 'To catch the Australian mail steamer at Port Chalmers, miss.'

'Thanks. Then I think I'll lie down a while,' said Philiberta. And the stewardess showed her a berth.

In the still of the night they reached the Port, where the larger vessel lay, a thin line of steam ascending from her funnel being the only indication that she was not asleep, like her neighbours ranged along both sides of the pier. She was to sail at daybreak, Philiberta, till then, walked restlessly up and down the pier. With the first streak of dawn, however, she went on board, gave her name to the stewardess, and went to her berth in utter weariness. She did not sleep, but lay there staring vacantly, and taking a vague, involuntary interest in the tumult overhead. She heard a peremptory voice once calling the stewardess on deck. Then the stewardess came down again, and into Philiberta's cabin, and stared so hard and curiously that the girl said:

'There is some money in my pocket, please, if you want my fare now.'

'Oh, it isn't that,' said the woman, laughing. 'What did you say your name was, please?'

'Campbell. Why?'

'Oh, nothing, only I must go and put it in my book.'

And then she went straight on deck again, and Philiberta turned her face to the wall and sighed drearily.

The steamer cast off and throbbed slowly down the bay and page 123out to sea. The long day dragged through and night came again; and with the night came sleep to Philiberta, and a dream. The pulsation of the engine must have, caused it, for she dreamt that she was resting on her lover's heart, counting its throbs. Then she heard his voice calling her name, so distinctly that she started awake, with her own heart on fire and every fibre of her body quivering. But everything around her was still, save only the constant palpitation of the vessel. Her door opened upon the ladies' cabin, and she could see that the lights were turned low, and that the stewardess was slumbering peacefully in her clothes on one of the cushioned benches. The sea was evidently very calm, for the table in the cabin stood as steadily as if it were on the floor of a landlubber's drawing-room; the tumbler of water, left inadvertently upon it, kept its position with perfect sobriety. Philiberta lay down quietly again, and began to wonder why they had not yet touched at the Bluff; then remembered that the engines had been stopped for a few hours a little way out from Port Chalmers Heads. She had asked the stewardess the cause, and the stewardess had told her, but now she had forgotten, and what did it matter? Only that was doubtless why they were not yet at the Bluff. Then she thought of Mrs. Retlaw, and her own ingratitude and selfishness in not leaving some word of explanation behind her. Not the true explanation—Heaven forefend!—but some little word to ease her dear friend's mind concerning her. Well, she would telegraph from the Bluff, so that was settled Just then there came, above the beat of the engine, a strange, weird sound to her ears, a long moaning sigh from afar off. It smote her distressfully; she remembered having heard something akin to it in old times in the bush when a fierce summer-storm was approaching, but yet a long way distant in the trees. She had always hated the sound; it made her feel so chill and cowardly. There again! And, unable to control herself, she sprang from her berth, hurried on dress and cloak, and rushed on deck. As if by magic, the former peace and stillness were ended. The captain was at his post; quick orders were uttered and obeyed. Some-page 124thing was coming. Dear God, something dire was coming fast to the ship! The distant moaning was changed to a weird wail; then increased to a piercing, terrifying shriek; then it rushed down madly on the vessel in a mountain of water and foam. The ship seemed to hold her breath a moment before the approach; and in that moment Philiberta felt herself lifted and carried down below. A crash, a rush as of blinding, drenching seas, a fearful screaming of wind that drowned the screams sent up in terror from human throats; then the steamer quivered and reeled and staggered, and finally throbbed on again with the gale in her teeth. Sleep and silence were over. The saloon was suddenly filled with wailing, doomed creatures, Philiberta, looking up to see who held her, saw Edgar Paget.

'Then it was your voice that called me just before the storm,' she said, and whether he heard her or not she never knew, for there was another deafening crash, and the shock felled both to the floor. Still he held her fast, and struggled up again. Another brief lull. 'How did you come here?'

'Rode over to the Port. Did you think I would let you go?'

'How did you know?'—'My soul guided me,'

Boom! Boom! Crash! The sea rushed down into the cabin, God! how the women shrieked. Some of them had babies, poor souls.

'We will not die here like drowned rats!' shouted Paget; and then he lifted Philiberta on his shoulder, and struggled with her to the deck, she clinging round his neck with both arms. Men passengers were running about wildly; some were already washed off; only the captain and officers and crew were silent, save for a shouted order now and then, which was probably lost in the wind.

The hurricane shrieked and raged, the sea lashed and roared, the struggling vessel fought and groaned as if she knew there could be but one end to the unequal battle, and that her destruction,

'Hopeless!' shouted the captain. 'She is breaking up. It will be all over in ten minutes.'

Not quite so soon; the agony lasted an hour and more, and page 125by that time the people had grown calm in the face of the inevitable. Mothers clung to their children, wives and husbands to each other, with that passionate tenacity of love that fears and yet defies dividing death. Many of them prayed that the end might come quickly. None dreamed of escape. Edgar Paget had lashed Philiberta to something: in the darkness she could not tell to what. She thought she felt him lashing himself there too; and she felt glad of that When the final break-up came, he had his arms round her; she never knew when or how he lost his hold.

Boom! Boom! Crash! It is over And the sea calms gradually down over a few scattered planks, beams, splinters, and drowned people.