Chapter Eight

Lewis was on his way to the bakery the next morning when he saw a knot of people in front of McFaul’s store, the wheelwright Ed Fisher holding court at the centre of the crowd.

“They’ve been found!” he shouted as Lewis joined the group. “The ship foundered, but the crew made it to Main Duck! The captain of the Cinderella Davy saw the signal from the island and brought them in to Picton safe and sound. ”

This was news indeed, and in spite of the fact that myriad chores awaited him at the hotel, Lewis was prepared to take a few minutes to hear the details of the miraculous survival of the crew of the Anthea.

As had been feared, the ship had been caught on the open lake when the storm hit. Every surface of the vessel had soon been covered with a layer of ice. The cook, Jemima Spencer, had taken the wheel, as was the customary drill, while the crew took oars and beat at the sails in an attempt to free them from the stiffening shroud of ice. This effort had been enough to give them at least a little steerage way, but with so much ice on their canvas, Captain Spencer didn’t dare try to ride out the storm in open water. It would only be a matter of time before a mast snapped and the ship was rendered helpless. Jemima steered for Main Duck, hoping to tuck the vessel into the lee of the island. After an exhausting struggle, she successfully piloted the vessel into Schoolhouse Bay. The captain hoped he could throw out his anchor and at least try to get his crew ashore.

The wind had continued to howl and heavy seas washed over the Anthea while the ice continued to rain down on them. The lifeboat was washed away by a huge wave as they attempted to launch it, and then an eddy wind parted the anchor chain. The ship struck hard against the rocks that lay near the shore, staving a great hole in the stern of the vessel. She began to take on water.

The crew’s only hope was that someone on shore would see them and attempt a rescue. But night was falling fast, and Spencer knew that at this time of year there would be only a couple of men on the island and that their chores would have been completed long since. It was unlikely that they would venture out of doors again in such a storm, and even if they did, how would they ever see the ship? Against all odds, the first mate managed to keep a lantern burning, but the fuel soon ran low and the crew’s spirits plummeted as it winked out.

Now in total darkness, they huddled at the bow of the ship as water continued to pour into her stern. Though they were only a hundred feet from shore, the heavy surf and blinding sleet made any attempt to reach it suicidal. They would have to wait until dawn.

As the first light brightened the eastern sky, Captain Spencer made his decision. He removed a hatch cover, tied a rope to it and threw it overboard. They would have to jump in after it one by one and hope to reach it before being swamped. The added buoyancy of the hatch might give them a chance to kick their way to shore. What would happen after that he had little idea, for he knew that his crew was cold, wet, and exhausted, and in all likelihood they would be unable to climb the high bank or walk far enough to reach a dwelling. The alternative was to stay where they were and hope that the ship held together against the buffeting of the waves and wind. His guess was that it would soon start to break up, and that they would be thrown into the water regardless, with no chance of survival.

Jemima jumped first. If she failed to reach the hatch, the captain would jump next and try to pull her to safety. She timed her jump well, however, and bobbed up to the surface a foot from the cover. The first mate followed, and he, too, jumped well. The sailor who leapt next was not so lucky. As his head came to the surface he was caught by a huge wave, which swept him away from his target.

At this point a miracle occurred. One of the caretakers of the island appeared on the shore in search of a steer that had wandered off. This man, taking the situation in at a glance, grabbed one of the large branches that had fallen in the storm and waded out into the frigid water. It was a close thing, but the very tip of it reached the struggling sailor. He was able to grasp it and was pulled to shore.

The branch was used to good effect for the others, as well, and with the boost in confidence that the promise of assistance gave them, the rest jumped to the cover, from where they could grab hold of the branch and be pulled in.

“The hardest part,” the captain was reported to have said, “was getting to the nearest house. We were so cold we could barely make our legs work.”

There they had stayed for the next three days, warm and fed, until a passing ship could be hailed to take them to the mainland.

After he had gathered all the pertinent details, Lewis continued on his way, relaying the welcome news to the baker and whatever customers were in his shop. They in turn passed the details on to whoever they met. It was all anyone could talk about, and Lewis heard the news discussed and dissected countless times over the course of the day. He was not at all surprised when Peter Spencer appeared at the hotel the following morning.

“I told you Matt could never drown,” he said with a grin, “and Jemima can steer a ship better than most men. I have to tell you, though, I despaired for a while there, but it was Mrs. Elliott who gave me heart when things looked so bleak. I’ve just come round to thank her for that.”

Clementine and Horatio were just finishing breakfast, but Clementine rose and came out to where they were standing.

“I can’t thank you enough, ma’am,” Spencer said when he saw her. “You were right all along, although I don’t know how you do it. Is there anything I can do for you in return?”

She smiled her cat-face at him. “We have only to listen to the spirits to learn the truth,” she said. “Their voices can help us to deal with the tribulations of this mortal life.”

“Still …” Spencer shuffled awkwardly, “it seems to me that the information you gave was worth a lot more than I paid you for it. It sits kind of uneasy, you know, and I’d like to put it right.”

“There is no need,” she said, still smiling. “I would freely share the wisdom of the afterlife with all who cared to hear, if only I were able. Alas, I am forced to ask for a small remuneration only to keep myself and my poor boy. Beyond that, I ask for nothing. Except, perhaps…” she paused and looked at Spencer squarely, “perhaps you could offer your friends and acquaintances some verification of my abilities.”

“Of course. Of course I will,” he said. “I’ll tell everyone. And thank you again, ma’am. Thank you so much.”

Lewis happened to glance into the dining room as Spencer spoke. Horatio was sitting at the table with his chin in his hands, his elbows on the table, something his mother was constantly chiding him about. As Clementine asked for Spencer’s aid in advertising her talents, her son rolled his eyes. Mr. Gilmour was listening, as well, and his eyes narrowed as Clementine made her pitch.