Ghost Messages Part 11

Sabotage Uncovered

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With an organised frenzy, everyone on deck moved at once. Captain Anderson, issuing orders as he went, strode purposefully toward the bridge to supervise the retrieval of the cable. Men ran down Oxford Street to stop the clanking machinery, others went to the tank access, while still more moved to their a.s.signed stations in preparation for cutting and transferring the weighty length of wire to the bow. Paddy was about to go a.s.sist with the dangerous job of splicing when a shout rang out.

"Wait! Look here!" Cyrus Field, emerging from the dark recesses of the cable tank, called in a loud voice which carried over the raucous noise on deck. Everyone stopped, looking to the American for an explanation. He caught Ailish's eye and with a nod went on. "I have solved the mystery of the cable faults!"

Ailish wondered if she'd heard correctly. Mr. Field had found the villain causing the troubles!

All around her, others were reacting the same way. His words acted like a magnet as men crowded to see what had been discovered. Finally, the truth would be known and the real saboteur unmasked!

The shouting soon brought Samuel Canning and Professor Thomson on deck. They joined the throng that had gathered to listen. Even the gong was still as the entire s.h.i.+p waited for the perpetrator to be named.

Mr. Field waved them all to silence. "This, gentlemen, is a day to remember. The grievous damage done to the cable has been explained. I have our culprit!" He held up a small piece of wire that looked exactly like the others that had been stabbed through the heart of the cable. "This is what caused the faults!"

He went on, silencing the murmurs. "This is a shard of the iron sheathing that is wrapped around the cable to protect it from the ravages of its ocean home. Fragments of this outer casing broke off when the cable was being stored in the tanks, and the weight of the coils, piled one on top of the other, drove the deadly sliver into the wire. I discovered several of these and know it was the cable itself that did the damage and not any man." He glanced meaningfully at Paddy.

Paddy, standing next to Ailish, nodded. "This will lay to rest any lingering doubts about me the lads may have had."

Ailish could practically feel him relax.

Samuel Canning, who was in charge of the cable-laying, stepped forward. "The loss of signal is not one hundred percent this time, but after discussing the situation, we have decided we still need to repair the fault to ensure the strongest signal possible. We shall continue the splicing with all haste."

"Aye, and that means lots of hard work," Paddy said. "I'd best get at it." He gave her a tip of his cap and moved off.

As the crowd dispersed, Ailish could hear men saying they had known all along it wasn't Paddy Whelan and that he was a good Irishman.

Ailish decided the hearts of men were more changeable than the winds at sea.

During Mr. Field's revelation, Ailish had stood clutching the small bejewelled horse. She knew there was nothing she could do to aid the cable repair but stay out of the way and fetch gallons of hot coffee to the men as they laboured to fix the dead line.

Deciding she would not tempt fate or the honesty of the rest of the crew now that the news of her fabulous horse was sure to have spread, she stopped at the purser's office to have her treasure locked up next to Paddy's in the s.h.i.+p's safe, then she went to the machinery storage hold to tell Davy what had happened.

Davy, sitting on his box, smiled broadly when he saw her. "Tell me all about your adventures. I'm in need of hearing something other than the clang of that accursed hammer of Charlie's."

Ailish settled opposite him and recounted the entire tale, from beginning to end, then retold him about the cable itself proving Paddy innocent because she liked the sound of the words as she spoke them. Innocent. Not a Fenian. They were all great words.

She could tell Davy truly enjoyed her company and her story, which she drew out with as much detail as possible. "So you see, everything is working fantastically well. My da and I will soon be owning our own fis.h.i.+ng boat and real house in our new home in Newfoundland and Paddy will take his money to his family so they will be safe." She stood up and stretched. "And now, I'd best be going topside to see if there's anything I can do."

"Don't go yet!" Davy pleaded. "You've only just arrived."

Although they both knew this to be untrue, something in his voice tugged at her. He sounded so lonely. There were five hundred men aboard and even working the dreadful hours he did, there was time to socialize; still, she remembered how she never saw him anywhere but here. A pleasant s.h.i.+ver danced down her spine, making it tingle. She sucked in her breath at the unexpected sensation.

She would like to have stayed, but after all that had happened on this voyage, she felt like a member of the crew and as a member of the crew, she wanted to help. Captain Anderson had been very good to her. He had not so much as given her a lecture for all her deception and she wanted to repay his loyalty in kind.

"I'll be back later to let you know how the cable repair fares." Her face lit up with an idea. "Maybe we can go to the mess and eat together. Surely Charlie will let you have an hour off this once. We have to celebrate how well everything turned out, not to mention my changing back into a girl, although what my da will say when he sees my hair is still uncharted waters, probably pretty choppy waters at that."

"You won't forget me will you, Ails?" Davy asked unexpectedly. His voice was barely more than a sigh.

"Don't be daft!" she laughed. "How could I ever forget you?"

Davy's spirit seemed to lift as he smiled and waved when she left.

It was near noon and Ailish decided lunch for all was called for. She went to the galley and Henry loaded her up with a variety of hearty fare. Her offering was so successful, she spent the next hour running back and forth, bringing food to the tireless crew.

Finally, she was ready for a bite herself, and scanned the bedlam looking for Paddy. Moving down Oxford Street, she found him on a small platform working the brake above the wheel reeling in the cable. "You better eat now, Mr. Whelan. On this s.h.i.+p, one never knows what calamity awaits over the next wave."

Paddy smiled wryly. "Truer words were never spoken, O'Connor."

Ailish was going to correct him, but then realized that she liked the name. She'd changed since coming aboard the Great Eastern. She had gained a world of confidence and knew so much more than that silly stowaway who'd boarded two weeks ago.

"O'Connor, are you listening?" Paddy teased, bringing her attention back from her woolgathering. "I was saying we're now only 600 miles from Newfoundland and that means we're trailing 1,186 miles of cable! A mighty weight dragging at us for sure, which is why they put me on the brake." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "It turns out, I'm the best darn brakeman aboard and we don't want to snap our delicate thread."

"Well, even the best darn brakeman aboard needs to eat."

With a nod to his replacement, Paddy followed the cabin boy.

They sat near the edge of the deck, away from the noisy machinery to eat their food. The sun was warm, the ocean tranquil and if it weren't for the current crisis, Ailish might have thought it the perfect day. They polished off their Cornish pasties, tarts and coffee then sat in companionable silence.

At that precise moment a terrific crack rang out.

Like a live thing escaping from captivity, the cable flew through the brake unchecked, then leapt out over the waiting sea and dove beneath the waves.

"Oh no!" Ailish gasped in astonishment. "It's gone! The transatlantic cable is lost!"

Paddy sprang to his feet and ran to the bow. When he returned to Ailish, he confirmed it: the cable had disappeared below, leaving not a ripple. All the hopes and dreams of so many men were now resting three miles below them on the silty floor of the Atlantic Ocean.

18.

Fis.h.i.+ng Off the Grand Banks

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Soon the whole crew was a.s.sembled, everyone speculating on what had happened. Captain Anderson came on deck and looked like he'd aged ten years. The tumult stilled as the crew waited to hear his words.

"At some point, the s.h.i.+p floated over the cable, so that it was rubbing against the hull as it was pulled in. This

weakened the cable, and once the damaged section went into the machinery, the strain was too much and it snapped."

He paused, and took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. "We've had a setback and are now trying to decide what to do. The cable is at a great depth and we are indeed in dire straights."

With the captain were the usual gentlemen and none appeared to be holding out any hope that this expedition could be salvaged. They talked among themselves, but from the amount of head shaking, it didn't seem like a solution was going to be presented.

Paddy looked at Ailish soberly, the disappointment evident on his face. "This is the end of the line, la.s.s. We're sure to return to Ireland with our tail between our legs now."

Ailish didn't like the thought of quitting, not after how hard everyone had worked. A crazy, if not desperate, idea came to her. "Couldn't we fish for the cable, Paddy?" She could tell from his expression that he did not understand what she was getting at. "You know, throw a giant hook into the water, let it drop to the bottom, then trawl for the cable, like they do cod in Newfoundland."

His tone was sceptical. "It's a long way down. We'd need miles of line and there isn't that much on the s.h.i.+p."

A detail forgotten from weeks ago bobbed to the surface of her mind. "When I first came aboard, I was in a small room at the back of the machinery storage hold and in it were rolls and rolls of wire rope. That would work wonderfully for our fis.h.i.+ng line. All we have to find is the hook!"

Paddy's excitement mounted as he realized what this could mean. "How much of this wire did you see?"

She squeezed her eyes shut trying to remember. "Loads! Miles of the stuff."

"We could lower a grappling hook and drag the ocean floor until we catch the cable, then haul it up and splice it together." He clapped her joyfully on the back, nearly sending her flying in his enthusiasm. "Well done, O'Connor! Come on, we'll go propose your solution to the captain."

Together, they hurried to Captain Anderson with the plan.

His expression went from desperation to hope as he listened. And then a slow smile spread from ear to ear. "By Jove, O'Connor, this could work! We'll fish that cable right out of the sea!"

The captain immediately summoned Samuel Canning and Cyrus Field to tell them of the bold idea. The gloomy atmosphere on board lifted. There was hope the transatlantic cable could be saved.

As the Great Eastern headed south, all was made ready. The line was brought up from the storage room and found to be five miles long, divided into hundred-fathom lengths. Paddy voiced concern that it was not continuous.

"There's naught for it, lads, we'll have to shackle the sections together. Pay particular attention to the joins as this is going to be like lifting an elephant with a shoestring." Paddy and the crew set to work joining the sections.

When Samuel Canning heard Paddy was in need of a grappling hook, he amazed everyone by producing a box containing several that were perfect for the job.

Finally all was ready and at three in the afternoon, the fis.h.i.+ng expedition for the lost transatlantic cable began. After two hours, the constant whirring of the wheels and pulleys letting out the line suddenly stopped. All hands were immediately at their stations, ready to start dragging for the cable.

Ailish had refused to leave the deck, and her interest was rewarded when a flicker of action high above the deck caught her attention. "What's happening up there?"

Paddy, standing beside her, shaded his eyes and gazed upward. "Captain Anderson doesn't want to risk snaring the line in the paddlewheels or screw. So, O'Connor, you are about to behold a spectacle few have seen, the Great Eastern under sail. We'll be loosing only four of her tops'ls as we need to move ahead dead slow."

As she watched, the sails billowed out, filling the rigging with vast sheets of snow-white canvas to harness the wind. Immediately, the s.h.i.+p was turned into a nautical fantasy as sailors scampered up and down ropes and indecipherable orders were shouted in a language known only to those of the sea. Paddy shooed her toward the hatchway that led belowdecks. "It could take hours or even days to find it. Remember, we're looking for something an inch across, three miles under the ocean. Get some rest."

Exhausted, Ailish reluctantly agreed. "You promise you'll call me if you find it?"

He patted her on the shoulder. "I'll fetch you the minute we hook our prize."

At six o'clock the next morning, Ailish was in the mess hall bolting down her bowl of porridge, when Paddy sat at her table. She looked up and saw the excitement in his eyes.

"We've caught it?" she asked expectantly.

"That we have. Exactly where Captain Anderson's s.e.xtant reading from yesterday said it would be."

Ailish pushed the bowl away and jumped up. "I'm done, let's go, man!"

On deck, they went straight to the bow and the machinery that was poised to begin the huge task of retrieving the miles of cable. Ailish watched from a safe distance as the engine powering the winch chugged to life. She could see Paddy carefully gauging the strain and speed and she remembered his worry about the cobbled sections that had been so painstakingly joined together.

It seemed the entire s.h.i.+p was holding its breath waiting as the whirr of the wheel brought more and more of their fis.h.i.+ng line to the surface. Ailish felt the tension of the men.

Without warning, there was a loud snap as one of the shackles broke apart, sending the broken wire whizzing through the wheel as it again tried to return to the sea.

The end of the wire thrashed and flailed about the deck, striking like an iron sea serpent with lethal force, slas.h.i.+ng all in its path. It shredded skin and smashed bones, tearing to pieces the helpless men who scrambled to escape. Blood splattered Ailish's s.h.i.+rt as she ducked behind the shelter of a cannon.

With lightning speed, Paddy reached out and clamped on the brake, leaning on it as he tried with all his might to stop the desperate escape attempt of the demon wire. With a growl of metal and a scream of complaining wheels, the brake grabbed hold and the broken wire shuddered and dropped to the deck, lifeless once more.

A cheer went up, and Paddy brought out his tools then began calmly affixing a new shackle before starting the engine again and freeing the brake. Ailish was going to clap and whistle too, but then noticed her b.l.o.o.d.y s.h.i.+rt and saw the unconscious sailors, their ruined bodies like rag dolls, being taken below.

With this sobering start, everyone knew they were in for a mighty battle. The cable continued to fight them as it tried to return to its watery home. When the shackles gave way again, the crew was unable to stop it in time and they had to begin fis.h.i.+ng once more.

And, as every man aboard stood united in the goal of completing their task, whatever it took, a new saboteur raised her head: mother nature.

Helplessly, they watched as a dense fog rolled in, shrouding the s.h.i.+p and calling a halt to their endeavours. The silvery grey mist refused to abate, and as the days past, the crew had no choice but to wait.