“You must have felt anxious with all your gold on board,” Ruth said.
“No,” replied Osborne, with a moment’s hesitation, which she missed. “Clay had insured the vessel and his shipments by her on a kind of floating policy. I believe he had some trouble to effect it, but he managed to get the thing arranged through a broker with whom he had a little influence.”
“Clay seems to have a good deal of influence,” Ruth thoughtfully remarked. “How does he get it?”
“It’s a gift of his,” Osborne answered, with a curious smile. “However, to go back to my tale, I knew the gold was insured, because, as joint owner, I had to sign a declaration about its value, which would go by another vessel with the bill of lading. To tell the truth, I was getting more anxious about my personal safety, for the cold and mist and wild weather were wearing on the nerves. At last, the gale blew itself out; but the haze got thicker as the sea began to fall; and one night I was awakened by a shock that threw me out of my berth. As I got a few clothes on I felt her strike again, and when I ran out on the deck, half dressed, it was clear that she had made her last voyage. She lay, canted over, across the sea, with her after-part sinking and the long swell which still ran breaking over her. You could see the smooth slopes of water roll out of the dark and melt into foam that covered half the deck, while the planking crushed in with a horrible sound as the reef ground through her bilge. There was, however, no panic. The miners quietly helped to swing the boats out; and, seeing that she was holding together, I went with Clay and two seamen to open the strong-room. It was reached through a trap in the cabin floor, but some beams in breaking had jambed this fast, and we attacked the deck with bars and axes.
“It was sharply slanted, the poop heaved and worked as the swell roared about it, and a big lamp that still burned hung at an extraordinary angle with the bulkhead. I remember that a maple sideboard which had wrenched itself away and slipped down to leeward, lay, smashed to pieces, in a pool of water; but there was no time to lose in looking about. We all worked well, but Clay did more than any of us. He was half dressed, his face was savage and dripping with sweat, and he swung his ax in a fury, regardless of the rest. In fact, his mood puzzled me afterward.”