The Survivors of the Chancellor (21 page)

Not till eleven o'clock did the fog begin to break, and as
it rolled in heavy folds along the surface of the water, I
could every now and then catch glimpses of a clear blue sky
beyond. Fierce sunbeams pierced the cloud-rifts, scorching
and burning our bodies like red-hot iron; but it was only
above our heads that there was any sunlight to condense the
vapor; the horizon was still quite invisible. There was no
wind, and for half an hour longer the fog hung heavily
round the raft, while Curtis, leaning against the side, strove
to penetrate the obscurity. At length the sun burst forth in
full power, and, sweeping the surface of the ocean, dispelled
the fog and left the horizon open to our eyes.

There, exactly as we had seen it for the last six weeks,
was the circle that bounded sea and sky — unbroken, definite,
distinct as ever! Curtis gazed with intensest scrutiny, but
did not speak a word. I pitied him sincerely, for he alone
of us all felt that he had not the right to put an end to his
misery. For myself, I had fully determined that if I lived
till the following day, I would die by my own hand.
Whether my companions were still alive, I hardly cared to
know; it seemed as though days had passed since I had
seen them.

Night drew on, but I could not sleep for a moment. Toward two o'clock in the morning my thirst was so intense
that I was unable to suppress loud cries of agony. Was
there nothing that would serve to quench the fire that was
burning within me? What if, instead of drinking the blood
of others, I were to drink my own? It would be all unavailing, I was well aware; but scarcely had the thought
crossed my mind, than I proceeded to put it into execution.
I unclasped my knife, and, stripping my arm, with a steady
thrust I opened a small vein. The blood oozed out slowly,
drop by drop, and as I eagerly swallowed the source of my
very life, I felt that for a moment my torments were relieved. But only for a moment; all energy had failed my
pulses, and almost immediately the blood had ceased to flow.

How long it seemed before the morning dawned! and
when that morning came it brought another fog, heavy as
before, that again shut out the horizon. The fog was hot
as the burning steam that issues from a boiler. It was to
be my last day upon earth, and I felt that I should like to
press the hand of a friend before I died. Curtis was standing near, and crawling up to him, I took his hand in my
own. He seemed to know that I was taking my farewell,
and with one last lingering hope he endeavored to restrain
me. But all in vain; my mind was finally made up.

I should have liked to speak once again to M. Letourneur,
Andre, and Miss Herbey, but my courage failed me. I
knew that the young girl would read my resolution in my
eyes, and that she would speak to me of duty, and of God,
and of eternity, and I dared not meet her gaze; and I would
not run the risk of being persuaded to wait until a lingering
death should overtake me. I returned to the back of the
raft, and after making several efforts, I managed to get
on to my feet. I cast one long look at the pitiless ocean and
the unbroken horizon; if a sail or the outline of a coast had
broken on my view, I believe that I should only have deemed
myself the victim of an illusion; but nothing of the kind
appeared, and the sea was dreary as a desert.

It was ten o'clock in the morning. The pangs of hunger
and the torments of thirst were racking me with redoubled
vigor. All instinct of self-preservation had left me, and
I felt that the hour had come when I must cease to suffer.
Just as I was on the point of casting myself headlong into
the sea, a voice, which I recognized as Dowlas's, broke upon
my ear.

"Captain," he said, "we are going to draw lots."

Involuntarily I paused; I did not take my plunge, but
returned to my place upon the raft.

JANUARY 26. — All heard and understood the proposition;
in fact it had been in contemplation for several days, but no
one had ventured to put the idea into words. However, it
was done now; lots were to be drawn, and to each would be
assigned his share of the body of the one ordained by fate to
be the victim. For my own part, I profess that I was quite
resigned for the lot to fall upon myself. I thought I heard
Andre Letourneur beg for an exception to be made in favor
of Miss Herbey; but the sailors raised a murmur of dissent.
As there were eleven of us on board, there were ten chances
to one in each one's favor — a proportion which would be
diminished if Miss Herbey were excluded; so that the young
lady was forced to take her chance among the rest.

It was then half-past ten, and the boatswain, who had
been roused from his lethargy by what the carpenter had
said, insisted that the drawing should take place immediately.
There was no reason for delaying the fatal lottery. There
was not one of us that clung in the least to life; and we
knew that, at the worst, whoever should be doomed to die,
would only precede the rest by a few days, or even hours.
All that we desired was just once to slake our raging thirst
and moderate our gnawing hunger.

How all the names found their way to the bottom of a
hat I cannot tell. Very likely Falsten wrote them upon a
leaf torn from his memorandum-book. But be that as it
may, the eleven names were there, and it was unanimously
agreed that the last name drawn should be the victim.

But who would draw the names? There was hesitation
for a moment; then "I will," said a voice behind me. Turning round, I beheld M. Letourneur standing with outstretched hand, and with his long white hair falling over his
thin livid face that was almost sublime in its calmness. I
divined at once the reason of this voluntary offer; I knew
that it was the father's devotion in self-sacrifice that led him
to undertake the office.

"As soon as you please," said the boatswain.

M. Letourneur proceeded to draw out the folded strips of
paper, one by one, and, after reading out loud the name
upon it, handed it to its owner.

The first name called was that of Burke, who uttered a
cry of delight; then followed Flaypole and the boatswain.
What his name really was I never could exactly learn.
Then came Falsten, Curtis, Sandon. More than half had
now been called, and my name had not yet been drawn.
I calculated my remaining chance; it was still four to one
in my favor.

M. Letourneur continued his painful task. Since Burke's
first exclamation of joy not a sound had escaped our lips,
but all were listening in breathless silence. The seventh
name was Miss Herbey's, but the young girl heard it without a start. Then came mine, yes, mine! and the ninth was
was that of Letourneur.

"Which one?" asked the boatswain.

"Andre," said M. Letourneur.

With one cry Andre fell back senseless. Only two names
now remained in the hat — those of Dowlas and M. Letourneur himself.

"Go on!" almost roared the carpenter, surveying his
partner in peril as though he could devour him. M. Letourneur almost had a smile upon his lips, as he drew forth
the last paper but one, and with a firm, unfaltering voice,
marvelous for his age, unfolded it slowly, and read the name
of Dowlas. The carpenter gave a yell of relief as he heard
the word.

M. Letourneur took the last bit of paper from the hat,
and, without looking at it, tore it to pieces. But, unperceived by all but myself, one little fragment flew into a
corner of the raft. I crawled toward it and picked it up.
On one side of it was written Andr—; the rest of the word
was torn away. M. Letourneur saw what I had done, and,
rushing toward me, snatched the paper from my hands, and
flung it into the sea.

JANUARY 26. — I understood it all; the devoted father having nothing more to give, had given his life for his son.

M. Letourneur was no longer a human being in the eyes
of the famished creatures who were now yearning to see him
sacrificed to their cravings. At the very sight of the victim
thus provided, all the tortures of hunger returned with
redoubled violence. With lips distended, and teeth displayed, they waited like a herd of carnivora until they could
attack their prey with brutal voracity; it seemed almost
doubtful whether they would not fall upon him while still
alive. It seemed impossible that any appeal to their humanity could, at such a moment, have any weight; nevertheless,
the appeal was made, and, incredible as it may seem, prevailed.

Just as the boatswain was about to act the part of butcher,
and Dowlas stood, hatchet in hand, ready to complete the
barbarous work, Miss Herbey advanced, or rather crawled,
toward them.

"My friends," she pleaded, "will you not wait just one
more day? If no land or ship is in sight to-morrow, then
I suppose our poor companion must become your victim.
But allow him one more day; in the name of mercy I entreat, I implore you."

My heart bounded as she made her pitiful appeal. It
seemed to me as though the noble girl had spoken with an
inspiration on her lips, and I fancied that, perhaps, in supernatural vision she had viewed the coast or the ship of which
she spoke; and one more day was not much to us who had
already suffered so long, and endured so much.

Curtis and Falsten agreed with me, and we all united to
support Miss Herbey's merciful petition. The sailors did
not utter a murmur, and the boatswain in a smothered voice
said:

"Very well, we will wait till daybreak to-morrow," and
threw down his hatchet.

To-morrow, then, unless land or a sail appear, the horrible
sacrifice will be accomplished. Stifling their sufferings by
a strenuous effort, all returned to their places. The sailors
crouched beneath the sails, caring nothing about scanning
the ocean. Food was in store for them to-morrow, and that
was enough for them.

As soon as Andre Letourneur came to his senses, his first
thought was for his father, and I saw him count the passengers on the raft. He looked puzzled; when he lost consciousness there had been only two names left in the hat,
those of his father and the carpenter; and yet M. Letourneur
and Dowlas were both there still. Miss Herbey went up
to him and told him quietly that the drawing of the lots
had not yet been finished. Andre asked no further question, but took his father's hand. M. Letourneur's countenance was calm and serene; he seemed to be conscious of
nothing except that the life of his son was spared, and as
the two sat conversing in an undertone at the back of the
raft, their whole existence seemed bound up in each other.

Meantime, I could not disabuse my mind of the impression caused by Miss Herbey's intervention. Something told
me that help was near at hand, and that we were approaching the termination of our suspense and misery; the chimeras
that were floating through my brain resolved themselves into
realities, so that nothing appeared to me more certain than
that either land or sail, be they miles away, would be discovered somewhere to leeward.

I imparted my convictions to M. Letourneur and his son.
Andre was as sanguine as myself; poor boy! he little thinks
what a loss there is in store for him to-morrow. His father
listened gravely to all we said, and whatever he might think
in his own mind, he did not give us any discouragement;
Heaven, he said, he was sure would still spare the survivors
of the Chancellor, and then he lavished on his son caresses
which he deemed to be his last.

Some time afterward, when I was alone with him, M.
Letourneur whispered in my ear:

"Mr. Kazallon, I commend my boy to your care, and
mark you, he must never know —"

His voice was choked with tears, and he could not finish
his sentence.

But I was full of hope, and, without a moment's intermission, I kept my eyes fixed upon the unbroken horizon.
Curtis, Miss Herbey, Falsten, and even the boatswain, were
also eagerly scanning the broad expanse of the sea.

Night has come on; but I have still a profound conviction
that through the darkness some ship will approach, and that
at daybreak our raft will be observed.

JANUARY 27. — I did not close my eyes all night, and was
keenly alive to the faintest sounds, and every ripple of the
water, and every murmur of the waves, broke distinctly on
my ear. One thing I noticed and accepted as a happy omen;
not a single shark now lingered round the raft. The waning moon rose at a quarter to one, and through the feeble
glimmer which she cast across the ocean, many and many a
time I fancied I caught sight of the longed-for sail, lying
only a few cables'-lengths away.

But when morning came, the sun rose once again upon
a desert ocean, and my hopes began to fade. Neither ship
nor shore had appeared, and as the shocking hour of execution drew near, my dreams of deliverance melted away; I
shuddered in my very soul as I was brought face to face
with the stern reality. I dared not look upon the victim,
and whenever his eyes, so full of calmness and resignation,
met my own, I turned away my head. I felt choked
with horror, and my brain reeled as though I were intoxicated.

It was now six o'clock, and all hope had vanished from
my breast; my heart beat rapidly, and a cold sweat of agony
broke out all over me. Curtis and the boatswain stood by
the mast attentively scanning the horizon. The boatswain's
countenance was terrible to look upon; one could see that
although he would not forestall the hour, he was determined
not to wait a moment after it arrived. As for the captain,
it was impossible to tell what really passed within his mind;
his face was livid, and his whole existence seemed concentrated in the exercise of his power of vision. The sailors
were crawling about the platform, with their eyes gleaming,
like the wild beasts ready to pounce upon their devoted prey.