Chapter XXXI--The Life-Line

by Bram Stoker

　　On the coast of Angleshire the weather in the early days of Septemberhad been stormy. With the south-west wind had come deluges of rain,not a common thing for the time of year on the east coast. Stephen,whose spirits always rose with high wind, was in a condition ofprolonged excitement. She could not keep still; every day she rodelong distances, and found a wonderful satisfaction in facing thestrong winds. Like a true horsewoman she did not mind the wet, andhad glorious gallops over the grassy ridge and down the slopes on thefarther side, out on the open road or through the endless grass ridesamid the pine woods.On the Tuesday morning the storm was in full sweep, and Stephen wasin wild spirits. Nothing would do her but to go out on the tower ofthe castle where she could walk about, and leaning on the crenellatedparapet look over all the coast stretching far in front and sweepingaway to the left and right. The prospect so enchanted her, and thefierce sweep of the wind so suited her exalted mood, that sheremained there all the morning. The whole coast was a mass ofleaping foam and flying spray, and far away to the horizon white-topped waves rolled endlessly. That day she did not even ride out,but contented herself with watching the sea and the storm from thetower. After lunch she went to her tower again; and again after tea.The storm was now furious. She made up her mind that after dinnershe would ride down and see its happenings close at hand.When she had finished dinner she went to her room to dress for herride. The rush and roar of the storm were in her ears, and she wasin wild tumultuous spirits. All her youth seemed to sweep back onher; or perhaps it was that the sickness of the last two years wasswept away. Somewhere deep down in Stephen's heart, below herintention or even her consciousness, was a desire to be her old selfif only for an hour. And to this end externals were of help.Without weighing the matter in her mind, and acting entirely onimpulse, she told her maid to get the red habit she had not worn foryears. When she was dressed she sent round to have out her whiteArab; while it was getting ready she went once more to the tower tosee the storm-effect in the darkening twilight. As she looked, herheart for an instant stood still. Half-way to the horizon a greatship, ablaze in the bows, was driving through the waves with all herspeed. She was heading towards the little port, beyond which theshallows sent up a moving wall of white spray.Stephen tore down the turret stair, and gave hurried directions tohave beds prepared in a number of rooms, fires everywhere, and plentyof provisions. She also ordered that carriages should be sent atonce to the fishing port with clothing and restoratives. Therewould, she felt, be need for such help before a time to be measuredby minutes should have passed; and as some of her servants were asyet strange to her ways she did not leave anything to chance. Onecarriage was to go for the doctor who lived at Lannoy, the villageover the hill, whence nothing could be seen of what was happening.She knew that others within sight or hailing would be already ontheir way. Work was afoot, and had she time, or thought of it, shewould have chosen a more sedate garb. But in the excitement nothought of herself came to her.In a few seconds she was in the saddle, tearing at full speed downthe road that led to the port. The wind was blowing so strongly inher face that only in the lulls could she hear the hoof-strokes ofthe groom's horse galloping behind her.At first the height of the road allowed her to see the ship and theport towards which she was making. But presently the road dipped,and the curving of the hill shut both from her sight; it was onlywhen she came close that she could see either again.Now the great ship was close at hand. The flames had gainedterribly, and it was a race for life or death. There was no time domore than run her aground if life was to be saved at all. Thecaptain, who in the gaps of the smoke could be seen upon the bridge,knew his work well. As he came near the shoal he ran a little north,and then turned sharply so as to throw the boat's head to the southof the shoal. Thus the wind would drive fire and smoke forward andleave the after part of the vessel free for a time.The shock of her striking the sand was terrific, though the tinkle ofthe bell borne in on the gale showed that the engines had been sloweddown. The funnels were shaken down, and the masts broke off, fallingforward. A wild shriek from a hundred throats cleft the roaring ofwind and wave. The mast fell, the foremast, with all its cumberingtop-hamper on the bridge, which was in an instant blotted out ofexistence, together with the little band of gallant men who stood onit, true to their last duty. As the wind took the smoke south a manwas seen to climb on the wreck of the mast aft and make fast the endof a great coil of rope which he carried. He was a huge man with afull dark beard. Two sailors working with furious haste helped himwith the rope. The waves kept raising the ship a little, each timebumping her on the sand with a shock. The people on deck heldfrantically to the wreckage around them.Then the bearded man, stripping to his waist and cutting off histrousers above the knee, fastened an end of the rope round his waist.The sailors stood ready one behind the other to pay it out. As agreat wave rolled under the ship, he threw himself into the sea.In the meantime the coastguard had fixed Board of Trade rocket-apparatus, and in a few seconds the prolonged roar of a rocket washeard. It flew straight towards the ship, rising at a high angle soas to fall beyond it. But the force of the wind took it up as itrose, and the gale increased so that it rose nearly vertically; andin this position the wind threw it south of its objective, and shortof it. Another rocket was got ready at once, and blue lights wereburned so that the course of the venturous swimmer might be noted.He swam strongly; but the great weight of the rope behind keptpulling him back, and the southern trend of the tide current and theforce of the wind kept dragging him from the pier. Within the barthe waves were much less than without; but they were still so unrulythat no boat in the harbour--which was not a lifeboat station--couldventure out. Indeed, in the teeth of the storm it would have been aphysical impossibility to have driven one seaward.As the gathered crowd saw Stephen approach they made way for her.She had left her horse with the groom, and despite the drenchingspray fought a way against the wind out on the pier. As in the glareof the blue light, which brought many things into harsh unnaturalperspective, she caught sight of the set face of the swimmer risingand falling with the waves, her heart leaped. This was indeed a man!a brave man; and all the woman in her went out to him. For him, andto aid him and his work, she would have given everything, doneanything; and in her heart, which beat in an ecstasy of anxiety, sheprayed with that desperate conviction of hope which comes in suchmoments of exaltation.But it soon became apparent that no landing could be effected. Theforce of the current and the wind were taking the man too farsouthward for him ever to win a way back. Then one of coastguardstook the lead-topped cane which they use for throwing practice, and,after carefully coiling the line attached it so that it would runfree, managed with a desperate effort to fling it far out. Theswimmer, to whom it fell close, fought towards it frantically; and asthe cord began to run through the water, managed to grasp it. A wildcheer rose from the shore and the ship. A stout line was fastened tothe shore end of the cord, and the swimmer drew it out to him. Hebent it on the rope which trailed behind him; then, seeing that hewas himself a drag on it, with the knife which he drew from thesheath at the back of his waist, he cut himself free. One of thecoastguards on the pier, helped by a host of willing hands, begandrawing the end of the rope on shore. The swimmer still held theline thrown to him, and several men on the pier began to draw on it.Unhappily the thin cord broke under the strain, and within a fewseconds the swimmer had drifted out of possible help. Seeing thatonly wild rocks lay south of the sea-wall, and that on them seas beatfuriously, he turned and made out for sea. In the light beyond theglare he could see vaguely the shore bending away to the west in adeep curve of unbroken white leaping foam. There was no hope oflanding there. To the south was the headland, perhaps two miles awayas the crow flies. Here was the only chance for him. If he couldround the headland, he might find shelter beyond; or somewhere alongthe farther shore some opening might present itself. Whilst thelight from the blue fires still reached him he turned and made forthe headland.In the meantime on ship and on shore men worked desperately. Beforelong the end of the hawser was carried round on the high cliff, andpulled as taut as the force at hand could manage, and made fast.Soon endless ropes were bringing in passengers and crew as fast asplace could be found for them. It became simply a race for time. Ifthe fire, working against the wind, did not reach the hawser, and ifthe ship lasted the furious bumping on the sandbank, which threatenedto shake her to pieces each moment, all on board might yet be saved.Stephen's concern was now for the swimmer alone. Such a gallant soulshould not perish without help, if help could be on this side ofheaven. She asked the harbour-master, an old fisherman who knewevery inch of the coast for miles, if anything could be done. Heshook his head sadly as he answered:'I fear no, my lady. The lifeboat from Granport is up north, no boatfrom here could get outside the harbour. There's never a spot in thebay where he could land, even in a less troubled sea than this. Wi'the wind ashore, there's no hope for ship or man here that cannotround the point. And a stranger is no like to do that.''Why not?' she asked breathlessly.'Because, my lady, there's a wheen o' sunken rocks beyond the Head.No one that didn't know would ever think to keep out beyond them, forthe cliff itself goes down sheer. He's a gallant soul yon; an' it'sa sore pity he's goin' to his death. But it must be! God can savehim if He wishes; but I fear none other!'Even as he spoke rose to Stephen's mind a memory of an old churchyardwith great trees and the scent of many flowers, and a child's voicethat sounded harsh through the monotonous hum of bees:'To be God, and able to do things!'Oh; to be God, if but an hour; and able to do things! To do anythingto help a brave man! A wild prayer surged up in the girl's heart:'Oh! God, give me this man's life! Give it to me to atone for theother I destroyed! Let me but help him, and do with me as Thouwilt!'The passion of her prayer seemed to help her, and her brain cleared.Surely something could be done! She would do what she could; butfirst she must understand the situation. She turned again to the oldharbour-master:'How long would it take him to reach the headland, if he can swim sofar?' The answer came with a settled conviction bearing hope withit:'The wind and tide are wi' him, an' he's a strong swimmer. Perhapshalf an hour will take him there. He's all right in himself. He canswim it, sure. But alack! it's when he gets there his trouble willbe, when none can warn him. Look how the waves are lashing thecliff; and mark the white water beyond! What voice can sound to himout in those deeps? How could he see if even one were there towarn?'Here was a hope at any rate. Light and sound were the factors ofsafety. Some good might be effected if she could get a trumpet; andthere were trumpets in the rocket-cart. Light could be had--must behad if all the fences round the headland had to be gathered for abonfire! There was not a moment to be lost. She ran to the rocket-cart, and got a trumpet from the man in charge. Then she ran towhere she had left her horse. She had plenty of escort, for by thistime many gentlemen had arrived on horseback from outlying distances,and all offered their services. She thanked them and said:'You may be useful here. When all these are ashore send on therocket-cart, and come yourselves to the headland as quick as you can.Tell the coastguards that all those saved are to be taken to thecastle. In the rocket-cart bring pitch and tar and oil, and anythingthat will flame. Stay!' she cried to the chief boatman. 'Give mesome blue lights!' His answer chilled her:'I'm sorry, my lady, but they are all used. There are the last ofthem burning now. We have burned them ever since that man began toswim ashore.''Then hurry on the rocket-cart!' she said as she sprang to thesaddle, and swept out on the rough track that ran by the cliffs,following in bold curves the windings of the shore. The white Arabseemed to know that his speed was making for life. As he sweptalong, far outdistancing the groom, Stephen's heart went out insilent words which seemed to keep time to the gallop:'Oh, to be God, and be able to do things! Give me this man's life,oh, God! Give me this man's life, to atone for that noble one whichI destroyed!'Faster and faster, over rough road, cattle track, and grassy sward;over rising and falling ground; now and again so close to the edge ofthe high cliff that the spume swept up the gulleys in the rocks likea snowstorm, the white Arab swept round the curve of the bay, andcame out on the high headland where stood the fisher's house. On thevery brink of the cliff all the fisher folk, men, women and children,stood looking at the far-off burning ship, from which the flames rosein leaping columns.So intent were all on the cliff that they did not notice her coming;as the roar of the wind came from them to her, they could not hearher voice when she spoke from a distance. She had drawn quite close,having dismounted and hung her rein over the post of the gardenpaling, when one of the children saw her, and cried out:'The lady! the lady! an' she's all in red!' The men were so intenton something that they did not seem to hear. They were peering outto the north, and were arguing in dumb show as though on somethingregarding which they did not agree. She drew closer, and touchingthe old fisherman on the shoulder, called out at his ear:'What is it?' He answered without turning, keeping his eyes fixed:'I say it's a man swimmin'. Joe and Garge here say as it's only apiece o' wood or sea-wrack. But I know I'm right. That's a manswimmin', or my old eyes have lost their power!' His words carriedconviction; the seed of hope in her beating heart grew on the instantinto certainty.'It is a man. I saw him swim off towards here when he had taken therope on shore. Do not turn round. Keep your eyes on him so that youmay not lose sight of him in the darkness!' The old man chuckled.'This darkness! Hee! hee! There be no differ to me between lightand dark. But I'll watch him! It's you, my lady! I shan't turnround to do my reverence as you tell me to watch. But, poor soul,it'll not be for long to watch. The Skyres will have him, sureenow!''We can warn him!' she said, 'when he comes close enough. I have atrumpet here!' He shook his head sorrowfully:'Ah! my lady, what trumpet could sound against that storm an' fromthis height?' Stephen's heart sank. But there was still hope. Ifthe swimmer's ears could not be reached, his eyes might. Eagerly shelooked back for the coming of the rocket-cart. Far off across thedeep bay she could see its lamp sway as it passed over the roughground; but alas! it would never arrive in time. With a note ofdespair in her voice she asked:'How long before he reaches the rocks?' Still without turning theold man answered:'At the rate he's going he will be in the sweep of the currentthrough the rocks within three minutes. If he's to be saved he mustturn seaward ere the stream grips him.''Would there be time to build a bonfire?''No, no! my lady. The wood couldn't catch in the time!'For an instant a black film of despair seemed to fall on her. Thesurging of the blood in her head made her dizzy, and once again theprayer of the old memory rang in her brain:'Oh to be God, and able to do things!'On the instant an inspiration flashed through her. She, too could dothings in a humble way. She could do something at any rate. Ifthere was no time to build a fire, there was a fire already built.The house would burn!The two feet deep of old thatch held down with nets and battened withwreck timber would flare like a beacon. Forthwith she spoke:'Good people, this noble man who has saved a whole shipload of othersmust not die without an effort. There must be light so that he cansee our warning to pass beyond the rocks! The only light can be fromthe house. I buy it of you. It is mine; but I shall pay you for itand build you such another as you never thought of. But it must befired at once. You have one minute to clear out all you want. In,quick and take all can. Quick! quick! for God's sake! It is for abrave man's life!'The men and women without a word rushed into the house. They tooknew the danger, and the only hope there was for a life. Theassurance of the Countess took the sting from the present loss.Before the minute, which she timed watch in hand, was over, all cameforth bearing armloads of their lares and penates. Then one of theyounger men ran in again and out bearing a flaming stick from thefire. Stephen nodded, he held it to the northern edge of the thatch.The straw caught in a flash and the flame ran up the slope and alongthe edge of the roof like a quick match. The squeaking of many ratswas heard and their brown bodies streamed over the roof. Beforeanother minute had passed a great mass of flame towered into the skyand shed a red light far out over the waste of sea.It lit up the wilderness of white water where the sea churnedsavagely amongst the sunken rocks; and it lit too the white face of aswimmer, now nearly spent, who rising and falling with each wave,drifted in the sea whose current bore him on towards the fatal rocks.