<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <br/><span class="cheaderfont">A FURIOUS STORM.</span></SPAN></h2>
<p>Hundreds of people hurrying to business in Sydney
at an early hour in the morning cast anxious eyes at
the dull leaden sky, across which heavy clouds rolled,<span class="pagenum">[47]</span>
hanging over the harbour and the city. They also
gazed in wonderment, and with feelings not devoid of
awe, upon a mass of peculiar white clouds banked up
in an exactly opposite direction to the harbour. These
clouds were of a fleecy whiteness, balloon-shaped, and
clung together until they were heaped almost mountains
high.</p>
<p>There was a peculiar stillness about the atmosphere—the
calm that usually precedes a storm. All day
long the clouds hung suspended overhead, and towards
the middle of the afternoon it grew much darker.
People residing at harbour suburbs hurried home as
fast as possible, and were glad when they were ferried
safely across the water.</p>
<p>The Watson’s Bay ferry-boat was throwing off from
the landing-stage as a well-built man in a pilot’s coat
jumped on board.</p>
<p>‘Nearly missed it, Wal,’ said the skipper of the
<em>Fairy</em>. ‘The next boat will have a rough passage, I
reckon.’</p>
<p>‘Yes; it’s been brewing all day,’ replied Walter
Jessop. ‘We shall have a terrible night, I fear. It
will be dangerous near the coast to-night. Luckily,
there’s no vessel been sighted anywhere handy.’</p>
<p>The speaker was evidently a seaman. He had an
honest, open face, weather-beaten and tanned with
exposure, and his hands were hard and big and used
to hard work.</p>
<p>Pilot Jessop was well known in Sydney. In years
gone by he had done good service as a pilot, and he<span class="pagenum">[48]</span>
still followed his calling, but fortune had favoured him
in the shape of a windfall from a rich relation, and he
only took on work when he felt inclined.</p>
<p>Walter Jessop knew the coast of Australia as well
as any man, and he had sailed up most of the harbours
and rivers between Adelaide and Normanton. Such
a man was not likely to make many mistakes about
the weather, and he knew what these lowering clouds
that had been hanging about all day meant.</p>
<p>The <em>Fairy</em> was one of the smallest ferry boats on
the harbour, and at this time Watson’s Bay was not
such an important place as it is now. Pilot Jessop,
however, found it handy to live at Watson’s Bay, as
it was under the great shadows of South Head, beyond
which lay the open sea. Many a ship had he piloted
to a safe anchorage in the harbour.</p>
<p>When the landing-stage was reached, he bade the
skipper of the <em>Fairy</em> good-night, and walked to his
home, which nestled in a sheltered position high up
above the harbour.</p>
<p>A bright little woman, clad in a homely dress, gave
him a hearty welcome. Mrs. Jessop was just the wife
for such a man, and they had only one regret: they
had no child to lavish their affection upon.</p>
<p>‘We’re in for a storm,’ said Wal Jessop, as he was
generally called. ‘I hope there’s no vessel making
for the harbour; they’d better keep away from our
coast to-night.’</p>
<p>‘I’m right glad you have no occasion to go to sea
on such nights,’ said his wife. ‘It would make an old<span class="pagenum">[49]</span>
woman of me before my time if you were out in these
storms.’</p>
<p>‘I weathered a good many storms before I met
you,’ said Wal Jessop, ‘but I don’t feel much inclined
for it again when I come to such comfortable quarters
as these.’</p>
<p>A low murmuring sound could be heard, a door
banged, and the windows creaked ominously.</p>
<p>‘It’s coming,’ said Jessop. ‘Make everything
snug, my lass; there’ll be a perfect hurricane before
morning.’</p>
<p>As Wal Jessop sat at the well-laden tea-table, he
suddenly put down his knife and fork, and drew a
paper from his coat-pocket.</p>
<p>‘I’d quite forgotten,’ he said. ‘I hope they’re not
making for Sydney in such a gale as this will be.’</p>
<p>‘What ship do you mean?’ asked his wife.</p>
<p>‘The <em>Distant Shore</em> is due here early next week.
It’s Saturday, and the agents expect her on Monday
at the latest. I hope Captain Manton has not made
an extra quick passage. She’s a clipping sailer, is the
<em>Distant Shore</em>, and he’s a bit venturesome—likes to
make a rapid run. I shouldn’t wonder if she’s not far
away to-night.’</p>
<p>‘I hope not,’ said Mrs. Jessop.</p>
<p>Captain Manton often paid a visit to the Jessops
when in Sydney, and the pilot and his wife were very
fond of his company.</p>
<p>As the evening wore on the storm raged in all its
fury. Every hour seemed to add to the velocity of<span class="pagenum">[50]</span>
the gale. A great roar like distant thunder could be
heard in the cottage as the waves dashed against the
mighty rocks of South Head, and then rushed back,
baffled and angry.</p>
<p>‘It’s beginning to rain,’ said Wal Jessop; ‘I’ll just
see if the pony’s all right before it comes on faster.’</p>
<p>‘Be quick in again,’ said his wife, ‘or you’ll be
drenched.’</p>
<p>A fierce gust came in as he opened the door and
quickly shut it again.</p>
<p>‘It doesn’t rain after all,’ he said, as he looked up
at the dark clouds through which the moon occasionally
shone in fitful gleams.</p>
<p>As if to convince him he had made a mistake, and
that his first surmise was correct, a shower of heavy
drops fell upon him. He stood still and thought for
a moment; then he touched the wet on his coat and
tasted it. It was salt, and he knew the waves outside
were running high and dashing showers of salt spray
over the top of the rocks, and the wind carried it
across the village.</p>
<p>‘Such a sea is worth having a look at,’ he thought.
‘I’ll have a walk up to the cliffs before I turn in.’</p>
<p>He told his wife it was the spray from the waves
being dashed on the rocks, and she knew it must be
terrible out at sea.</p>
<p>Walter Jessop could not rest. He felt uneasy, and
had an undefinable feeling that some dire catastrophe
was about to take place. He sat down and tried to
read the evening paper, but nothing in it interested<span class="pagenum">[51]</span>
him. His pipe continually went out because he was
so deep in thought he failed to draw sufficiently to
keep it alight. His wife watched him with anxious
eyes. She had seen him like this before when he
had been affected by a presentiment of evil. He got
up from his chair and restlessly paced about the
room.</p>
<p>‘Have a glass of something,’ said his wife. ‘It’s
getting on for bedtime.’</p>
<p>‘Don’t mind if I do,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you what
it is, lass: I fear there’ll be something awful happen
before the night’s over.’</p>
<p>‘It’s the storm makes you feel like that,’ said his
wife. ‘This will do you good.’ And she handed
him a glass of toddy.</p>
<p>Wal Jessop drank it with evident relish. Then he
looked at his watch, and said:</p>
<p>‘Ten o’clock. I’ll just go up on the cliffs, and
have a look out to sea; I’ll never rest if I don’t.’</p>
<p>‘If you say you’ll go I know you mean it,’ said
his wife; ‘but do be careful. You might get blown
over the rocks.’</p>
<p>‘There’s a moon,’ he said; ‘and I’m more likely
to be blown away from the rocks than over them.
I’ll not be gone long. You go to bed.’</p>
<p>He put on a thick coat and slouch hat, kissed his
wife, and then went out into the stormy night.</p>
<p>‘If he fancies I’m going to bed until he comes
home he’s mistaken,’ said Mrs. Jessop to herself.
‘Oh, these sailors! A furious gale seems to tempt<span class="pagenum">[52]</span>
them outside when other folk are only too anxious to
hide their heads under the bedclothes.’</p>
<p>Wal Jessop felt the full force of the wind as he
made his way up a narrow path towards the top of
the cliff. He battled with it, and seemed to take a
fierce delight in overcoming it. A terrific gust nearly
swept him off his feet, and he muttered:</p>
<p>‘Nearly had me that time, but I’ll beat the winds
as I have done before. There’s some satisfaction in
fighting a gale like this, but I’d sooner be doing it
here than out at sea yonder.’</p>
<p>At last he reached the roadway, which he crossed,
and then climbed up again towards the top of the
rocks. As he made his way slowly the salt spray
dashed into his face, and wetted him all over. He
could hear the waves thundering against the rocks,
and every roar was followed by a dense shower of
spray. When he reached the top of the rocks the
moon came out from behind a cloud, and shed a pale
light on the scene.</p>
<p>Wal Jessop looked out to sea, and saw nothing but
a black mass of tumultuous water and fierce waves
chasing each other in mad sport. Then he looked
down below and saw masses of foam tossed about
and flung high into the air. He saw the great waves
roll across the jutting rock, then dash furiously
against the solid mass opposed to them, and cast up
spray like a waterspout. This battle between the
waves and the rocks had been going on for centuries,
and would, he knew, continue for centuries more.<span class="pagenum">[53]</span>
The waves, constantly baffled and defeated, had to
retreat, but they returned again and again to the
charge, bringing up reinforcements from their mighty
reserves, until at last the rocks seemed to give way
inch by inch, and their jagged, worn fronts bore
unmistakable testimony to the fierceness of the onslaught.</p>
<p>Pilot Jessop could not tear himself away from this
scene of tumult and fierce war. He stood alone
upon the rocks, the spray drenching him, and the
wind whistling and whining in his ears. He knew
there was a warm bed awaiting him at home, and yet
he could not leave the spot. He peered out to sea,
and saw an empty space. The moon was again
hidden, and all was black and desolate. Suddenly
he started, and gave vent to an exclamation. He
thought he saw a tiny light sparkle far away out in
the gloom. He looked again and again, but could
see nothing. Could his eyes have deceived him?
What could he have mistaken for a light so far out
at sea? There it was again. He could not mistake
it this time. There were two lights like stars; now
he saw three. A cold, dull feeling came over him,
and froze the blood in his veins; his heart beat
loudly, and he put his hands to his head to think.</p>
<p>Was it a ship out at sea and heading for the
harbour on such a night as this? Surely no captain
would be so mad and foolish as to risk passing
through that narrow strait between the Heads in such
a gale! He looked again and again, and the more<span class="pagenum">[54]</span>
he looked the more he was convinced it was a vessel
being driven on to the rocks. He knew if it was a
ship she would be dashed into a thousand pieces and
not a soul on board could be saved. Hoping against
hope, he looked again. The light had gone, and he
breathed more freely. His eyesight must have
deceived him.</p>
<p>He felt a tug at his sleeve, and turning quickly
round, faced his wife.</p>
<p>‘I could bear it no longer,’ she said; ‘you have
been out over three hours. The suspense was
terrible. I thought you were blown over the rocks.
Come home, Wal, you are wet through.’</p>
<p>‘Three hours!’ he exclaimed, then, knowing how
he had been compelled to struggle to reach the rocks,
he took his wife in his arms, strained her to his
breast, kissed her fondly, and said:</p>
<p>‘You are a brave little woman, and I’m a brute for
causing you anxiety. We will go home at once.
This is no fit place for you.’</p>
<p>‘Wal, Wal!’ she cried as she stared over his
shoulder with wide, terror-stricken eyes; ‘look,
there’s a light; two lights, three! It’s a ship!
Lord have mercy on ’em!’</p>
<p>‘Good God, she’s seen it! Then my eyes have
not deceived me. That’s what I’ve been watching
this hour,’ he said.</p>
<p>They looked together out across the furious ocean,
and saw the lights plainly now.</p>
<p>Mary Jessop hid her face on her husband’s shoulder<span class="pagenum">[55]</span>
and sobbed aloud. She knew not a single man,
woman, or child on the ill-fated vessel could expect
to live when the ship was shattered to pieces. As
she stood there in the rocks with the wind roaring
around her, safe in her husband’s strong arms, she
offered up a prayer to the God who rules the seas to
save the ship from destruction.</p>
<p>As for Pilot Jessop, he seemed for the moment
incapable of action. He quickly recovered, and said
in a hollow voice:</p>
<p>‘Suppose it’s the <em>Distant Shore</em>?’</p>
<p>His wife shuddered and said:</p>
<p>‘Can nothing be done to save her?’</p>
<p>‘No, Mary; she’s beyond control. No captain
would be here on such a night if he had control of his
ship. She’s helpless, and we are helpless; but we
can rouse the folk and do all we can. Come.’</p>
<p>They went down the rocky path and hurried to the
village, where, despite the gale, the people were sleeping
soundly.</p>
<p>They roused two or three men, and telling them to
pass the word on, they fought their way back to the
top of the cliffs.</p>
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