The Survivors of the Chancellor: Chapter 9

Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX.

OCTOBER 19th.--Eveything, then, is clear.  The uneasiness of the
crew, their frequent conferences, Owen's mysterious words, the
constant scourings of the deck and the oppressive heat of the
cabins which had been noticed even by my fellow-passengers, all
are explained.

After his grave communication, Curtis remained silent.  I
shivered with a thrill of horror; a calamity the most terrible
that can befall a voyager stared me in the face, and it was some
seconds before I could recover sufficient composure to inquire
when the fire was first discovered.

"Six days ago," replied the mate.

"Six days ago!"  I exclaimed; "why, then, it was that night."

"Yes," he said, interrupting me; "it was the night you heard the
disturbance upon deck.  The men on watch noticed a slight smoke
issuing from the large hatchway and immediately called Captain
Huntly and myself.  We found beyond all doubt, that the cargo was
on fire, and what was worse,that there was no possibility of
getting at the seat of the combustion.  What could we do?  Why;
we took the only precaution that was practicable under the
circumstances, and resolved most carefully to exclude every
breath of air from penetrating into the hold, For some time I
hoped that we had been successful.  I thought that the fire was
stifled; but during the last three days there is every reason to
make us know that it has been gaining strength.  Do what we will,
the deck gets hotter and hotter, and unless it were kept
constantly wet, it would be unbearable to the feet.  But I am
glad, Mr. Kazallon," he added; "that you have made the discovery.
It is better that you should know it."

I listened in silence, I was now fully aroused to the gravity of
the situation and thoroughly comprehended how we were in the very
face of a calamity which it seemed that no human power could
avert.

"Do you know what has caused the fire?"  I presently inquired.

"It probably arose," he answered, "from the spontaneous
combustion of the cotton.  The case is rare, but it is far from
unknown.  Unless the cotton is perfectly dry when it is shipped,
its confinement in a damp or ill-ventilated hold will sometimes
cause it to ignite; and I have no doubt it is this that has
brought about our misfortune."

"But after all," I said, "the cause matters very little.  Is
there no remedy?  Is there nothing to be done?"

"Nothing; Mr. Kazallon," he said.  "As I told you before, we have
adopted the only possible measure within our power to check the
fire.  At one time I thought of knocking a hole in the ship's
timbers just on her waterline, and letting in just as much water
as the pumps could afterwards get rid of again; but we found the
combustion was right in the middle of the cargo and that we
should be obliged to flood the entire hold before we could get at
the right place.  That scheme consequently was no good.  During
the night, I had the deck bored in various places and water
poured down through the holes; but that again seemed all of no
use.  There is only one thing that can be done; we must persevere
in excluding most carefully every breath of outer air, so that
perhaps the conflagration deprived of oxygen may smoulder itself
out.  That is our only hope."

"But, you say the fire is increasing?"

"Yes; and that shows that in spite of all our care there is some
aperture which we have not beep able to discover, by which,
somehow or other, air gets into the hold."

"Have you ever heard of a vessel surviving such circumstances?"
I asked.

"Yes, Mr. Kazallon," said Curtis; "it is not at all an unusual
thing for ships laden with cotton to arrive at Liverpool or Havre
with a portion of their cargo consumed; and I have myself known
more than one captain run into port with his deck scorching his
very feet, and who, to save his vessel and the remainder of his
freight has been compelled to unload with the utmost expedition.
But, in such cases, of course the fire has been more or less
under control throughout the voyage; with us, it is increasing
day by day, and I tell you I am convinced there is an aperture
somewhere which has escaped our notice."

"But would it not be advisable for us to retrace our course, and
make for the nearest land?"

"Perhaps it would," he answered.  "Walter and I, and the
boatswain, are going to talk the matter over seriously with the
captain to-day.  But, between ourselves, I have taken the
responsibility upon myself; I have already changed the tack to
the south-west; we are now straight before the wind, and
consequently we are sailing towards the coast."

"I need hardly ask," I added; "whether any of the other
passengers are at all aware of the imminent danger in which we
are placed."

"None of them," he said; "not in the least; and I hope you will
not enlighten them.  We don't want terrified women and cowardly
men to add to our embarrassment; the crew are under orders to
keep a strict silence on the subject.  Silence is indispensable."

I promised to keep the matter a profound secret, as I fully
entered into Curtis's views as to the absolute necessity for
concealment.

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