The Survivors of the Chancellor by Jules Verne Read Free Book Online Page A

heat of the
compartment allowed him to obtain; and a lot of cases of
salt meat and biscuits, a cask of brandy, some barrels of
fresh water, together with some sails and wraps, a compass
and other instruments are now lying packed in a mass all
ready for prompt removal to the boats whenever we shall be
obliged to leave the ship.
    About eight o'clock in the evening, a noise is heard, distinct even above the raging of the hurricane. The panels of
the deck are upheaved, and volumes of black smoke issue upward as if from a safety-valve. A universal consternation
seizes one and all; we must leave the volcano which is about
to burst beneath our feet. The crew run to Curtis for orders. He hesitates; looks first at the huge and threatening
waves; looks then at the boats. The long-boat is there, suspended right along the center of the deck; but it is impossible to approach it now; the yawl, however, hoisted on the
starboard side, and the whale-boat suspended aft, are still
available. The sailors make frantically for the yawl.
    "Stop, stop," shouts Curtis; "do you mean to cut off our
last and only chance of safety? Would you launch a boat
in such a sea as this?"
    A few of them, with Owen at their head, give no heed to
what he says. Rushing to the poop, and seizing a cutlass,
Curtis shouts again:
    "Touch the tackling of the davit, one of you; only touch
it, and I'll cleave your skull."
    Awed by his determined manner, the men retire, some
clambering into the shrouds, while others mount to the very
top of the masts.
    At eleven o'clock, several loud reports are heard, caused
by the bursting asunder of the partitions of the hold. Clouds
of smoke issue from the front, followed by a long tongue of
lambent flame that seems to encircle the mizzen-mast. The
fire now reaches to the cabin of Mrs. Kear, who, shrieking
wildly, is brought on deck by Miss Herbey. A moment
more, and Silas Huntly makes his appearance, his face all
blackened with the grimy smoke; he bows to Curtis, as he
passes, and then proceeds in the calmest manner to mount
the aft-shrouds, and installs himself at the very top of the
mizzen.
    The sight of Huntly recalls to my recollection the prisoner
still below, and my first impulse is to rush to the staircase
and do what I can to set him free. But the maniac has already eluded his confinement, and with singed hair and his
clothes already alight, rushes upon deck. Like a salamander he passes across the burning deck with unscathed
feet, and glides through the stifling smoke with unchoked
breath. Not a sound escapes his lips.
    Another loud report; the long-boat is shivered into fragments; the middle panel bursts the tarpaulin that covered it,
and a stream of fire, free at length from the restraint that
had held it, rises half-mast high.
    "The picrate! the picrate!" shrieks the madman; "we
shall all be blown up! the picrate will blow us all up."
    And in an instant, before we can get near him, he has
buried himself, through the open hatchway, down into the
fiery furnace below.

Chapter XIV - Breakers to Starboard!
*
    OCTOBER 20. — Night. — The scene, as night came on, was
terrible indeed. Notwithstanding the desperateness of our
situation, however, there was not one of us so paralyzed by
fear, but that we fully realized the horror of it all.
    Poor Ruby, indeed, is lost and gone, but his last words
were productive of serious consequences. The sailors
caught his cry of "Picrate, picrate!" and being thus for the
first time made aware of the true nature of their peril, they
resolved at every hazard to accomplish their escape. Beside
themselves with terror, they either did not, or would not, see
that no boat could brave the tremendous waves that were
raging around, and accordingly they made a frantic rush toward the yawl. Curtis again made a vigorous endeavor to
prevent them, but this time all in vain; Owen urged them on,
and already the tackling was loosened, so that the boat was
swung over to the ship's side. For a moment it hung