Authors: Elizabeth Adler
Then the wind abruptly stopped and the waves slid glassily past, looking even more menacing in the sudden silence. The terrified cries of the poor immigrants in the hold filtered upward and Lily realized with horror that they were locked in. If the
Hibernia
went down they would not be able to get to the boats, or even jump over the edge and try to swim for it. Confined down there, they were all doomed.
She ran up the stairs to the bridgehouse and the captain turned to look at her. “There are women and children locked in your hold,” she stormed. “If we are going to capsize, you must set them free like the rest of us, to face the worst.”
The white-bearded captain eyed her angrily. “Dear God,” he boomed, “don’t I have enough on my plate without a useless woman do-gooder parading my decks in a storm?” He glared at her, then he softened a little, seeing she was so young. “If I let them out now they will only panic and fall overboard, and maybe a lot of them will die unnecessarily. When I feel the peril is imminent they will be set free to face their Maker. I’ve captained a ship for fifty years now,” he added grimly, “and I’ve never lost one yet and I’m not giving up the fight so quickly.”
Lily realized he was right and offered an apology. He laughed. “You’ve got spirit, ma’am,” he said, “and I like that. I’ll tell you the truth of the matter: if this storm keeps up for another hour we shall be on the rocks off Nantucket and then we are all dead. If it stops, we might get lucky and drift through into Nantucket Sound. Either way, the
Hibernia
lost her rudder when we struck a shoal just now, so the matter is out of my hands. You can stay here,” he added kindly, knowing she was alone, “if it’s company you’re after.”
Lily curled up in a corner, her arms wrapped around her knees, watching, but no longer praying. The sky outside grew black as night again. The wind began to howl and the
rain lashed down. Giant waves combed the ship, and tugged by the wind it floated off the shoal and drifted helplessly into the black night.
Down in the engine rooms the engineers and the stokers stood uselessly by as the great fires subsided in the boilers.
“We’re at the mercy of the storm now, I reckon,” the chief engineer said, lighting a cigarette. “Can ye just listen to them Irish bastards howlin’ down in the hold. Sick as pigs and terrified as if they’re heading for the slaughterhouse.”
“They’re no bastards,” Finn spat back at him. “They’ve got mothers and faythers just the same as you. And wouldn’t you be sick and afraid, stuck in that stinking hold with your children to care for?”
“Aye, aye, I reckon as how I might,” the engineer said in a conciliatory tone. “I forgot you was Irish yerself. I’ll tell ye somethin’, I could use a bottle of that good Irish whiskey we’ve got in the hold, to steady my nerves. My mates abovedecks told me one of the crates had split open and we might just be able to help ourselves to a nice drink or two before the whole blasted lot goes to the bottom. And us with it most likely.”
He swaggered off in search of his bottle and Daniel stared glumly at Finn. “Is she not listing as bad as she did before, Finn?” he asked, trying to assess their chances.
Finn shrugged. “What do I care? What future do we have anyway? We’re just as helpless as those poor souls trapped in the hold.” His angry eyes met his brother’s. “Did y’niver stop to think what we might do when we reach Boston, Dan?” He stared helplessly down at the toes of his broken old boots. “We’re a couple of ignorant Irish country lads with no money in our pockets and no prospects. We shall have to jump ship and steal our way into Amerikey without papers nor friends to welcome us. We should have stayed home in Ireland to die, instead of coming all this way in a god-blasted boat that’s no better than an old fishing scow in a storm.”
Dan shook his head despairingly. He knew his brother was right.
The engineer returned clutching four bottles of Irish whiskey. “Get this down you,” he chortled, handing them out. “I guarantee you’ll feel like new men before y’ve halfway drunk it.”
They hunkered down on the floor by the fading glow of the boilers, gratefully swigging the whiskey. Soon they were joined by others. Daubed in coal dust and sweat with their red-rimmed eyes and mouths, Dan thought they resembled a circle of devilish gargoyles. The whiskey was finished and fresh supplies sent for. They discussed the captain and agreed he was a good man and if anybody could save them it was he, though with the rudder broken they were as good as gone.
“Barring a miracle,” Finn said, his words tripping over his tongue.
“It’ll be the passengers off first if there’s any miracles to be had,” the engineer growled blearily. “And the first will be the captain’s new favorite. Walkin’ around in her breeches she is, bold as brass. They say she’s a lady, but I ain’t never seen no lady looking like that.”
“Ladies,” Finn said contemplatively. “Let me tell you, boyo, ladies are not all they are meant to be. They don’t think like you and me.”
“They don’t look like you and me neither, thank God,” someone added amid laughter.
“No. This one’s a real
Lady
lady,” the engineer went on with drunken persistence.
The words penetrated Daniel’s brain through a haze of whiskey. The hair bristled on the back of his neck as he sensed danger. Clapping his hand over the engineer’s mouth, he said fiercely, “Shut up, ye stupid bastard.”
The engineer fought him off. “Who are you callin’ a bastard?” he yelled angrily. “Put up yer fists, ye damned Irish mick, and we’ll see who’s a bastard or not,”
Finn leapt between them hurriedly. “Just look at you daft divils. Don’t we have enough to worry us with the ship
about to sink, without the two of youse fightin’? Besides, if the captain hears of it he’ll have you both clapped in irons and arrested as soon as we get to Amerikey.”
“If we gets there, that is,” the engineer said sourly, throwing back his head and pulling hard on the whiskey bottle again.
“Bah, I’m going up to see what’s happening,” Finn said. “If I’m meant to die at least I’ll not die down here, trapped in a coalhole with a bunch of fightin’ drunks.”
Stumbling from the drink, he hitched up his filthy pants, strode from the boiler room, and made his way up the winding metal stairs and across the galleries to the iron door leading onto the cargo deck. Daniel went anxiously after him. “Y’can’t go up there, Finn,” he said. “It’s not allowed. Just look at the state of ye. What iver will the passengers say if they catch sight of ye, looking like a wild man?”
“I’ve as much right to die on deck as any passenger,” Finn retorted.
Daniel thought about what he had said. “You’re right,” he decided hazily. “Don’t they say that in our final moments God makes all men equal?” He marched after his brother, up the companionway onto the deck, just as the ship gave another almighty shudder. There was a terrible grinding, tearing noise and then, with a final shiver, the vessel fell silent.
“The ship just died,” Daniel said in an awed whisper.
Finn stared at him and then he peered from the top of the companionway into the blackness outside. Waves were breaking over the stricken ship and the wind suddenly began to scream again, driving the rain in front of it. “There’s women and children down in that hold,” he said, suddenly sobered. “My God, Dan, what’s to become of them? We’ve got to help them.”
“How?” For the second time in his life Daniel felt absolutely powerless. “What are you going to do? Put them over the side in boats? Into a sea like that? Why, they’d not
last two minutes. No, we’d best leave it to the captain. And to God.”
They stared helplessly at the raging storm. The ship groaned like an animal in pain, and shaking their heads, they walked back again to the engine room and the comforts of the whiskey bottle.
The hours dragged by and still the
Hibernia
was afloat. Finally the long night everyone had expected to be their last was over and with it the storm. His ship was drifting into Nantucket Sound, but the captain knew their troubles were not yet over. They were in dangerous waters filled with shoals, and anticipating the worst he ordered the immigrants freed.
Two hours later they were drifting in a dead calm. A bank of fog crept silently toward them and the captain glanced at Lily, still huddled wearily in the corner. “When it lifts,” he said encouragingly, “we shall send up flares. We should be close enough to Nantucket to be spotted and they will send boats. You can be sure you will be on the very first.”
Lily had forgotten her own problems for the moment. She thought about the immigrants on the lower decks, frozen and wet and afraid, knowing nothing of what was going on. She knew there were women and children among them and she asked the captain to please send them down food and milk. He nodded. “I’ll see it’s done,” he promised.
Suddenly exhausted, she waded back down the corridor to her cabin and lay on her damp bunk, staring at her straw hat with the roses floating past, wondering what was to become of her.
Down in the engine room the empty whiskey bottles that had rolled to and fro with the swaying of the ship were now heaped together in one corner. Finn eyed them warily. He wondered hazily if it was his imagination, or whether the movement of the ship had stopped. Yes, he could swear it had. His eyes met Daniel’s and he said eagerly, “Let’s go up top, Dan, and see what’s happening.”
“Don’t waste yer breath and yer body,” the engineer
said sourly. “Ye’ll still be the last off, even after the steerage. It is women and children first. That’s the law of the sea.” He took another swig of the whiskey and belched loudly. “O’course, our captain’s favorite young lady will be piped ashore with all flags flyin’. No doubt she’ll enjoy that, the Lady Lily.”
Finn lifted his head.
“Lady Lily?”
he repeated.
“He means nothing,” Daniel said desperately, grabbing Finn’s arm and dragging him away. “He’s just an old drunk, Finn, and don’t you know it.”
“The Lady Lily Molyneux,” the engineer repeated in grand tones. “An earl’s daughter, no less. Though she looks like a lad to me …”
Finn turned on Daniel, his eyes blazing. “You knew? You knew Lily was on this ship?”
“Only now. When he said so,” Daniel lied. “It’s just bad luck, that’s all, Finn. Lily’s nothin’ to do with us anymore. Just leave it.”
Finn flung him away and ran to the stairs. “Where are y’goin’?” Dan shouted, grabbing him.
“Where am I going?” Finn’s eyes blazed at him. “I’m going to kill her, of course.” He flung off his brother and was up the twisting iron staircase and across the galleries and through the doors before Daniel could even pick himself up off the floor.
Lily was standing by her open trunk. The fifty pounds she had been given lay on top and she was fastening the diamond necklace around her throat. The door suddenly slammed back against the wall and she stared at the coal-blackened wild man confronting her. She would have known those eyes anywhere.
“Finn?” she whispered, half joyful, half amazed. She didn’t stop to think how or why he was here, she just knew that now everything would be all right. “Oh, Finn,” she gasped. “Thank God. You’ve come to save me.”
“Save you?
You lying little bitch. I haven’t come to
save
you.” His strong hands were on her throat. He picked her up and shook her until her eyes bulged from their sockets
and her face turned blue. “You’ve ruined me, Lily Molyneux,” he muttered through gritted teeth, still shaking her. “You cheated on me, cheapened yourself like a street woman. Ah, God, I want to kill you for that more than anything. How could you, you bitch? How could you—”
Daniel sprang at him from the doorway. “Y’stupid bastard,” he roared. “Do you want her to turn you into a murderer as well?” He pried Finn’s hands from her neck and Lily fell against the edge of the berth, choking and retching.
“We’d better be out of here fast, before she has you clapped in irons,” Dan yelled, dragging him away. “God-blast it, Finn, move yer great self.”
Finn shrugged him off. He stood threateningly over Lily. “I wish I had killed you,” he said grimly. “But you’ll live to regret what you have done to me, Lily. By God you will.” His hand shot out and he wrenched the diamonds from her neck. “I’m taking this to pay me back for what you’ve done.” He grabbed the gold coins from the top of the trunk. “And the money as well. I’ll come back though, Lily. I promise you that. One day I’ll be back for the rest of what you owe me.” He added in a whispered growl that only she could hear, “That which you’ve claimed I’ve already had.” And then he ran from the cabin after his brother.
Lily fell back into her berth. She knew Finn had meant to kill her: she had seen it in his eyes, heard it in his bitter voice, felt it in the angry pressure of his hands on her throat. She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, Finn, I didn’t realize Pa would be so angry with you,” she whispered hoarsely. “I never thought he would try to harm you. I thought it would just be me he would be angry with. And now look at what I’ve done.” And she lay facedown on her wet bunk, and cried for her sins.
An hour later the captain inspected his ship anxiously. They were stuck firm as a clam on the shoal in a dead-calm sea with broken masts, and no rudder and a gaping hole amidships. They were listing twenty degrees to port, shipping
water badly, and they were losing the battle even though they were bailing as fast as they could.
The fog had not lifted and he knew that if he sent up his precious flares now, the chances of them being spotted in this weather were almost nil. He thought of the two hundred and twenty immigrants in steerage, and of his other passengers and crew. He alone was responsible for their safety and he knew he could not wait. He would have to send up the flares and risk it. If there was no response to his SOS signals he would cram as many of the passengers he could into the four lifeboats and send them off into the fog toward the rocky shores and pray they made it to safety.
The first flare turned the fog pink and the captain searched the sky for an answering light. He sent up another, and another, but still there was no response, and his heart sank as he gave the order to lower the boats.