tells of a sudden and unlooked-for event.

how often it has been said, “good for man that he does not know what lies before him.” if he did we fear he would face his duty with very different feelings from those which usually animate him. certain it is that if robin wright and sam shipton had known what was before them—when they stood one breezy afternoon on the ship’s deck, casting glances of admiration up at the mountain waves of the southern seas, or taking bird’s-eye views of the valleys between them—their eyes would not have glistened with such flashes of delight, for the fair prospects they dreamed of were not destined to be realised.

what these prospects were was made plain by their conversation.

“won’t it be a splendid opportunity, sam, to become acquainted with all the outs and ins of telegraphy, this laying of lines from island to island in the china seas?”

“it will, indeed, robin,—a sort of compound or alternating land-and-submarine line. at one time we shall be using palm-trees for posts and carrying wires through the habitations of parrots and monkeys, at another we shall be laying them down among the sharks and coral groves.”

“by the way,” said robin, “is it true that monkeys may prove to be more troublesome to us in these regions than sparrows and crows are at home?”

“of course it is, my boy. have you never heard that on some of our indian lines, baboons, vultures, and other heavy creatures have sometimes almost broken down the telegraphs by taking exercise and roosting on the wires?”

“indeed, i hope it won’t be so with us. at all events, sharks won’t be much tempted, i should fancy, by submarine cables.”

“there’s no saying, robin. they are not particular when hungry. by the way, i saw you talking with unusual earnestness this morning to jim slagg; what was the matter with him?”

“poor fellow! you’d scarcely believe it, to look at him,” replied robin, “but the lad is actually home-sick.”

“home-sick! why, how’s that? if we were only a few days out from port, or even a week or two, i could understand it, but seeing that we are now drawing near to the china seas, i should have thought—”

“oh, that’s easily explained,” interrupted robin. “this is his mother’s birthday, it seems, a day that has always been kept with much rejoicing, he tells me, by his family, and it has brought back home and home-life with unusual force to him. with all his rough off-handedness, slagg is a tender-hearted, affectionate fellow. somehow he has taken it into his head that this voyage will be disastrous, and that he will never see his mother again. i had great difficulty in showing him the unreasonableness of such a belief.”

“no doubt you had. it is unreasonable beliefs that people usually hold with greatest tenacity,” replied sam, with a touch of sarcasm. “but tell me, have he and stumps never once quarrelled since leaving england?”

“never.”

“i’m amazed—they are so unlike in every way.”

“you would not be surprised if you knew them as i do,” returned robin. “ever since slagg gave him that thrashing on board the great eastern in 1865, stumps has been a changed man. it saved him from himself, and he has taken such a liking to slagg that nothing will part them. it was that made me plead so hard for stumps to be taken with us, because i felt sure slagg would not go without him, and although we might easily have done without stumps, we could not have got on so well without slagg.”

“i’m not so sure of that, my boy. your opinion of him is too high, though i admit him to be a first-rate youth. indeed, if it were not so, he should not be here.—was that a shark’s fin alongside?”

“yes, i think so. cook has been throwing scraps overboard, i suppose.—see, there goes an empty meat-tin.”

as he spoke the article named rose into the air, and fell with a splash in the water. at the same time jim slagg was seen to clamber on the bulwarks and look over.

“come here—look alive, stumps!” he shouted.

stumps, whose proper name, it is but fair to state, was john shanks, clambered clumsily to his friend’s side just in time to see a shark open its horrid jaws and swallow the meat-tin.

“well now, i never!” exclaimed slagg. “he didn’t even smell it to see if it was to his taste.”

“p’r’aps he’s swallowed so many before,” suggested stumps, “that he takes for granted it’s all right.”

“well it’s on’y flavour; and he has caught a tartar this time,” returned the other, “unless, maybe, tin acts like pie-crust does on human vitals.”

the low deep voice of the captain was heard at this moment ordering a reef to be taken in the top-sails, and then it began to strike robin and sam that the breeze was freshening into something like a gale, and that there were some ominous-looking clouds rising on the windward horizon. gazing at this cloud-bank for a few minutes, the captain turned and ordered the top-sails to be close-reefed, and most of the other sails either furled or reduced to their smallest size.

he was in good time, and the vessel was ready for the gale, when it rushed down on them hissing like a storm-fiend.

the good ship bent before the blast like a willow, but rose again, and, under the influence of able seamanship, went bravely on her course, spurning the billows from her swelling bows.

“what a thing it is to know that there is a good hand at the helm in times of danger!” remarked sam as he and our hero stood under the shelter of the starboard bulwarks, holding on with both hands to the rigging, while the rushing waves tossed them on high or let them drop in the troughs of the seas; “i should feel safe with our captain in any circumstances.”

“so should i,” said robin with enthusiasm, his eyes glistening with delight as he gazed on the angry ocean.

there was no thought of danger in the mind of any one at that moment. a good ship, ably commanded, well manned, and with plenty of sea-room,—what more could be desired? nevertheless, deadly peril was close at hand.

that marvellous little creature—which, in the southern seas, builds its little cell, works its little day and dies, leaving to succeeding generations of its kind to build their little cells and die, each using its predecessor’s mansion as a foundation for its own, until pile on pile forms a mass, and mass on mass makes a mountain—the coral insect, had reared one of its submarine edifices just where the cable-ship triton had to pass that day. for ages man had traversed that sea without passing exactly over that mountain, and even if he had, it would not have mattered, for the mountain had been always many fathoms below the surface. but now the decree had gone forth. the conjunction of events predestined had come about. the distance between the mountain summit and the ocean surface had been reduced to feet. the triton rose on the top of a mighty billow as she reached the fated spot. the coral peak rose near the bottom of the water-hollow beyond, and down on it the doomed ship went with an awful crash!

her speed was checked only an instant, for the top of the rock was knocked off by the force of the blow, and the ship passed swiftly on, but there could be no mistaking the significance of that shock. an involuntary shout of alarm from some,—a gasp, halt of surprise, half of horror, from others,—then a rush of active effort when the captain gave orders to man the pumps.

there was urgent need for haste. the mass of coral rock had stuck in the hole it had made, else had they gone down in a few minutes. as it was, the water rushed in furiously, so much so that the captain detailed a party of men to construct a raft, while the rest relieved each other at the pumps. no doubt he was partly urged to this course by the consideration that a vessel weighted with telegraph-cables and other heavy material connected therewith could not float long in a leaky condition.

“keep close to me, robin; we must sink or swim together.”

it was sam who spoke. he was very pale, but his firmly-compressed lips showed no sign of unmanly fear. robin, on the contrary, taken by surprise, and too inexperienced to correctly estimate sudden danger, was flushed with the feeling that now was the time to do and dare whatever should be required of him! they went to the pumps together, where stumps and slagg were already at work with many others.

it is surprising how fast and hard men will toil when life depends on the result. there was a cat-like activity about the carpenter and his mates as they cut, sawed, lashed, and bolted together the various spars and planks which formed the raft. in a marvellously short space of time it was ready and launched over the side, and towed astern by the strongest cable on board, for the danger of parting from it in such weather was very great. knowing this they had lashed some casks of pork and other provisions to it before launching.

still they laboured with unflagging resolution at the pumps, for many of those on board were picked men, whose sense of honour urged them to strive to the uttermost to save the ship, for it was no ordinary merchant-man, freighted with an ordinary cargo, which could easily be replaced as well as insured, but a vessel freighted with those magic wires which couple continents and unite humanity, whose loss might delay, though it could not ultimately arrest, the benign and rapid intercourse of man with man in all parts of the globe.

“keep your eye on sam and me,” whispered robin to jim slagg, finding himself alongside that worthy during a spell of rest. “let us keep together, whatever happens.”

robin did not quite believe that anything serious was going to happen. some spirits find it as difficult to believe in impending disaster as others find it to believe in continued safety. it seemed so impossible to robin, in his inexperience, that the strong and still buoyant vessel which had borne them so long and bravely should sink! nevertheless, like the rest, he laboured with a will.

slagg took the opportunity to give a similar caution to his friend stumps.

“she’s sinking, sir,” said the carpenter, who had been sounding the well, to the captain, about an hour later.

“i know it; stand by to have the raft hauled alongside. knock off now, lads, there’s no use in pumping any more.”

the men ceased, with a deep sigh, and by that act the death-warrant of the cable-ship was signed.

during the next quarter of an hour the crew were busy slipping down the cable that held the raft. a few ran below to fetch small articles that they valued, but by that time the vessel was so low in the water, that there was little time to spare, and the captain began to urge haste.

“now then, lads, over the side with you,” he said, chancing to look at sam shipton as he spoke!

that spirit of heroism which induces men to resolve to be the last to quit a sinking ship, came over sam just then, and he shrank back. he and his chief were in charge of the telegraph apparatus. it would be disgraceful to quit until all on board had left. he laid his hand on the strong cable that held the raft and said, “i’ll stay to the last, sir, and cast off the rope, if you’ll allow me.”

“we don’t cast off ropes in such circumstances,” replied the captain; “we cut ’em.”

sam was silenced, but not the less resolved to hold to his point, if possible. he still held back, while the captain, being busy with the others, some of whom were rather too eager to go, paid no further attention to him. robin, slagg, and stumps, recognising sam as their leader, fell behind him and kept close.

at last all were on the raft except the captain and the four friends.

“now, then, come along,” said the former, somewhat impatiently.

“after you, sir,” said sam, with a polite bow.

“overboard, sir!” shouted the captain, in a voice that would brook no denial, and sam at once stepped on the bulwark, for he was not naturally rebellious.

just as he spoke the rope broke, and the raft fell astern.

“jump! jump! it’s your only chance,” cried the captain, at the same moment springing into the sea.

sam was on the point of following, when an exclamation from slagg checked him. looking quickly back, he saw that robin was not there.

our hero, while modestly standing behind his comrades, had suddenly remembered that the small bible given him by his mother was lying on the shelf at the side of his berth. he would have lost anything rather than that. there was yet time to fetch it, so, without a word, he turned and sprang below, supposing that he had ample time.

“robin! robin!” shouted sam and slagg together, at the top of their voices.

“coming! coming!” reached them faintly from below, but robin did not come. the hasty summons induced him to leap over a chest in returning. he struck his head violently against a beam, and fell back stunned.

with another wild shout his friends rushed down the companion-hatch to hasten his movements by force. they found him almost insensible. lifting him quickly, they carried, him on deck, and bore him to the stern of the vessel.

“robin! robin!” cried sam, in an agony of impatience—for the raft was by that time far astern, besides which the shades of evening were beginning to descend—“do try to rally. we must swim. we’re almost too late. can you do it?”

“yes, yes, i can swim like a duck,” cried robin, rising and staggering towards the bulwarks.

“but i can’t swim at all!” cried stumps in a voice of horror.

sam stopped as if suddenly paralysed. then, laying hold of robin, held him back. he felt, as he looked at the dark heaving sea and the now distant raft, that it was not possible for him and slagg to save both their injured and their helpless comrade.

“too late!” he said in a voice of despair, as he sat down and for a moment covered his face with his hands. slagg looked at him with a bewildered rather than a despairing expression.

“so, we’ll have to sink together since we can’t swim together,” he said at last, with a touch of reckless vexation, as he gazed at the naturally stupid and by that time imbecile face of his friend stumps.

“come, only cowards give way to despair,” cried sam, starting up. “we have one chance yet, god be praised, but let’s work with a will, boys, for the time is short.”