Dennis Wheatley - The Rape Of Venice

'Get up! Get your clothes on! The ship may go down at any moment!'

Roger tumbled from his bunk, staggered slightly owing to weakness from his three days of sickness, then pulled himself together and muttered: 'So it's come to that, eh? Last night I would have been pleased rather than otherwise at the idea of being swiftly carried down to Davy Jones's Locker. But now I feel better, I've no mind for a watery grave. How is Winters showing in this emergency?'

'He's been near as ill as you,' she replied quickly. 'I haven't told him yet, and I've no need to. The stewards are knocking on every cabin door warning people to get ready. Whatever may betide I'll not now risk being separated from you for a moment.'

'I'll not let you be until I've got you into a boat. With Captain Finch gone there may be panic and fighting up on deck. Mr. Cruishank told me that with troops aboard there are never enough boats to take off everybody. The ships haven't the space to carry them.'

'Three have been smashed by the waves last night; but the men have been making rafts this morning.'

'It takes a lot of rafts to make up for a boat. Unless the discipline proves better than one can expect, there will be a horrible scrimmage for a chance of survival. As a woman you are entitled to a first place in a boat; but if there is a panic the rush may deprive you of it.'

'In any case, I'd not take it unless you could come with me.'

Roger shrugged. 'There are few women aboard; so I'd have as much right to a place beside you as any other man. But in such circumstances, boats are liable to become dangerously overcrowded. I believe we'd stand a better chance on a raft, especially if we could get one to ourselves.'

'I'll do whatever you think best; but hurry! Hurry!'

He had been swiftly pulling his clothes on. Having buckled on his sword, he snatched his pistols from a drawer and thrust them into the pockets of his coat. As he did so he muttered. 'At least, being in tropical waters we'll be in no danger from the cold.' But, all the same, he swung his heavy cloak round his shoulders. Quickly, he collected all his papers, put them into a large waterproof wallet made of fish-​skin, with which he travelled in case of emergencies, and strapped it round his waist. Lastly he grabbed a flask of cognac, and another of powder for his pistols; then they ran from the cabin and up to the upper deck.

Already, although no panic showed, it was a seething mass of people, many of whom were working on rafts with desperate haste, while others, whose faces showed them to be half-​stunned with fear, stood staring in horrified silence at the fo’c’sle, which was now awash with water.

A boat towards the stern on the port side was being lowered. Lady Beaumont was in it. Catching sight of Clarissa she shouted and beckoned, but her voice was drowned by the din; next moment the falls were let go and the boatload of people disappeared from view.

Another boat on the starboard side was being manned. A midshipman ran up to Clarissa, seized her by the arm and tried to drag her towards it. She shook him off and refused to go. It was as well. A few minutes later, as the boat, now crammed with people, was lowered, the after fall jammed; its bows went dawn with a rush, precipitating everyone in it into the heaving sea.

Some rafts, heavily loaded, mostly with soldiers, were already floating off from the half-​submerged fo’c’sle. Groups of men, odd passengers and officers, either squatted on, or stood near, all the others. Desperately Roger looked round for something buoyant which would support Clarissa and himself. Suddenly his eye lit on a stack of deck chairs which had already been firmly lashed together to prevent their being swept overboard.

Pieces of torn sail and lengths of severed rope littered the deck about them. Snatching up one of the pieces of rope, Roger set frantically to work. With Clarissa's help he threaded it twice through the chairs and twice right round the stack. Next he tied one end of the rope round Clarissa's waist and the other end round his own. Then he cut the cords that held the stack of chairs to the deck.

They had hardly done, and climbed on to the stack, when the squat figure of Winters came blundering through the crowd towards them.

'Clarissa!' he cried. 'Clarissa! I have been searching for you everywhere! Why did you not seek a place in one of the boats?'

'Because they are too heavy laden,' Roger replied tersely for her. 'If the wind gets up again the water will wash over their gunwales; they'll be swamped and everyone in them drowned.'

'Then… then…' Winters stammered, 'you'll be safer using these chairs as a raft. Make room for me, I implore you.'

In this crisis, which might so soon lead to their deaths, the last thing that either Roger or Clarissa wanted was to have Winters with them; yet they could hardly refuse. The whole of the front half of the ship was now under water. A wavelet lapped at the chairs on which they were sitting. Although there was barely room Winters, without waiting for a reply, scrambled up beside Clarissa.

A moment later the deck suddenly tilted, launching the stack of chairs onto the water. Above them the tip of the mainmast seemed to sweep forward. The stern of the ship rose up against the sky. There were shrieks, cries and imprecations. As the sea surged across the deck, the rafts were thrown one against another; many of the occupants were pitched into the water Shouts, prayers and a great roar of rushing waters filled the air.

Through the babbling water, Roger caught a glimpse of the deck, now sliding swiftly away twelve feet below them. A wave swept several of the rafts, and the stack of chairs, just clear of the bulwark. The Minerva, only a few feet from them, was now standing on end, her bowsprit ten fathoms down, her poop reared up towards the sky. A cluster of men dived from it; without a sound it slid swiftly downwards. With the rush of waters, the windows of the stern cabin shattered and through them fountains of foam spurted into the air. In a matter of moments, it was all over. The fine ship had totally disappeared.

Some of the crowded rafts had already overturned and the men from them were fighting in the water. The men on the others were awed into silence. Suddenly there was a shout:

'The whirlpool! The whirlpool!'

The cluster of rafts began to circle. A hideous conical pit had formed at the spot where the Minerva had gone down. Raft after raft was drawn into it and sucked under. The chairs, in turn, raced round it for a moment then the stack tilted and was engulfed. Roger threw an arm round Clarissa. Next second they were plunged beneath the surface; blinded, their mouths full of water, they felt themselves rushing downwards to die with the ship from which they thought they had escaped.

Chapter 11

Death Reaches Out

Although they were within a few degrees of the equator the water had struck chill as it surged over them. But in a moment all sensation was forgotten, except the pain and terror of suffocation. They had been drawn into the whirlpool so swiftly that they had not even had time to gulp in a deep breath. The sea had slapped into their partly open mouths, blinded their eyes and rushed up their nostrils.

The Minerva, plunging to the depths, dragged them after her-​down, down, down. It seemed that, like stones cast into a pond, they would never stop until they reached bottom. With every instant, greater pressure upon their chests and backs threatened to force out the air remaining in their lungs. The blood throbbed madly in their temples and their eyes started from their sockets.

Suddenly the water below them seemed to open. They shot down at still greater speed, were flung head over heels, whirled round, then felt themselves being carried swiftly upwards. Another few awful moments and they were catapulted several feet above the surface of the sea. Then they splashed into and under it. Temporarily, they had been saved from drowning by the final death throe of the Minerva. The increasing pressure on the air caught in her between decks had caused it to burst out in a great bubble; like rocks caught up in a volcanic eruption, they had been hurled by it right out of the water.