Books: The Pursuit of the House Boat
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John Kendrick Bangs >> The Pursuit of the House Boat
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The day passed, and by slow degrees the island and the marooned
pirates faded from view, and the night came on, and with it a dense
fog.
"We're going to have a nasty night, I am afraid," said Xanthippe,
looking anxiously out of the port.
"No doubt," said Mrs. Noah, pleasantly. "I'm sorry for those who
have to be out in it."
"That's what I was thinking about," observed Xanthippe. "It's going
to be very hard on us keeping watch."
"Watch for what?" demanded Mrs. Noah, looking over the tops of her
glasses at Xanthippe.
"Why, surely you are going to have lookouts stationed on deck?" said
Elizabeth.
"Not at all," said Mrs. Noah. "Perfectly absurd. We never did it on
the Ark, and it isn't necessary now. I want you all to go to bed at
ten o'clock. I don't think the night air is good for you. Besides,
it isn't proper for a woman to be out after dark, whether she's new
or not."
"But, my dear Mrs. Noah," expostulated Cleopatra, "what will become
of the ship?"
"I guess she'll float through the night whether we are on deck or
not," said the commander. "The Ark did, why not this? Now, girls,
these new-fangled yachting notions are all nonsense. It's night, and
there's a fog as thick as a stone-wall all about us. If there were a
hundred of you upon deck with ten eyes apiece, you couldn't see
anything. You might much better be in bed. As your captain,
chaperon, and grandmother, I command you to stay below."
"But--who is to steer?" queried Xanthippe.
"What's the use of steering until we can see where to steer to?"
demanded Mrs. Noah. "I certainly don't intend to bother with that
tiller until some reason for doing it arises. We haven't any place
to steer to yet; we don't know where we are going. Now, my dear
children, be reasonable, and don't worry me. I've had a very hard
day of it, and I feel my responsibilities keenly. Just let me
manage, and we'll come out all right. I've had more experience than
any of you, and if--"
A terrible crash interrupted the old lady's remarks. The House-boat
shivered and shook, careened way to one side, and as quickly righted
and stood still. A mad rush up the gangway followed, and in a moment
a hundred and eighty-three pale-faced, trembling women stood upon the
deck, gazing with horror at a great helpless hulk ten feet to the
rear, fastened by broken ropes and odd pieces of rigging to the
stern-posts of the House-boat, sinking slowly but surely into the
sea.
It was the Gehenna!
The House-boat had run her down and her last hour had come, but,
thanks to the stanchness of her build and wonderful beam, the
floating club-house had withstood the shock of the impact and now
rode the waters as gracefully as ever.
Portia was the first to realize the extent of the catastrophe, and in
a short while chairs and life-preservers and tables--everything that
could float--had been tossed into the sea to the struggling immortals
therein. On board the Gehenna, those who had not cast themselves
into the waters, under the cool direction of Holmes and Bonaparte,
calmly lowered the boats, and in a short while were not only able to
felicitate themselves upon their safety, but had likewise the good
fortune to rescue their more impetuous brethren who had preferred to
swim for it. Ultimately, all were brought aboard the House-boat in
safety, and the men in Hades were once more reunited to their wives,
daughters, sisters, and fiancees, and Elizabeth had the satisfaction
of once more saving the life of Raleigh by throwing him her ruff as
she had done a year or so previously, when she and her brother had
been upset in the swift current of the river Styx.
Order and happiness being restored, Holmes took command of the House-
boat and soon navigated her safely back into her old-time berth. The
Gehenna went to the bottom and was never seen again, and when the
roll was called it was found that all who had set out upon her had
returned in safety save Shylock, Kidd, Sir Henry Morgan, and
Abeuchapeta; but even they were not lost, for, five weeks later,
these four worthies were found early one morning drifting slowly up
the river Styx, gazing anxiously out from the top of a water-cask and
yelling lustily for help.
And here endeth the chronicle of the pursuit of the good old House-
boat. Back to her moorings, the even tenor of her ways was once more
resumed, but with one slight difference.
The ladies became eligible for membership, and, availing themselves
of the privilege, began to think less and less of the advantages of
being men and to rejoice that, after all, they were women; and even
Xanthippe and Socrates, after that night of peril, reconciled their
differences, and no longer quarrel as to which is the more entitled
to wear the toga of authority. It has become for them a divided
skirt.
As for Kidd and his fellows, they have never recovered from the
effects of their fearful, though short, exile upon Holmes Island, and
are but shadows of their former shades; whereas Mr. Sherlock Holmes
has so endeared himself to his new-found friends that he is quite as
popular with them as he is with us, who have yet to cross the dark
river and be subjected to the scrutiny of the Committee on Membership
at the House-boat on the Styx.
Even Hawkshaw has been able to detect his genius.
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