_The Search for Stubbins_
In a confused way, I was conscious that the Skipper and the Mates were
down among us, trying to get us into some state of calmness. Eventually
they succeeded, and we were told to go aft to the Saloon door, which we
did in a body. Here, the Skipper himself served out a large tot of rum
to each of us. Then, at his orders, the Second Mate called the roll.
He called over the Mate's watch first, and everyone answered. Then he
came to ours, and he must have been much agitated; for the first name he
sung out was Jock's.
Among us there came a moment of dead silence, and I noticed the wail and
moan of the wind aloft, and the flap, flap of the three unfurled
t'gallan's'ls.
The Second Mate called the next name, hurriedly:
"Jaskett," he sung out.
"Sir," Jaskett answered.
"Quoin."
"Yes, Sir."
"Jessop."
"Sir," I replied.
"Stubbins."
There was no answer.
"Stubbins," again called the Second Mate.
Again there was no reply.
"Is Stubbins here?--anyone!" The Second's voice sounded sharp and
anxious.
There was a moment's pause. Then one of the men spoke:
"He's not here, Sir."
"Who saw him last?" the Second asked.
Plummer stepped forward into the light that streamed through the Saloon
doorway. He had on neither coat nor cap, and his shirt seemed to be
hanging about him in tatters.
"It were me, Sir," he said.
The Old Man, who was standing next to the Second Mate, took a pace
towards him, and stopped and stared; but it was the Second who spoke.
"Where?" he asked.
"'e were just above me, in ther crosstrees, when, when--" the man broke
off short.
"Yes! yes!" the Second Mate replied. Then he turned to the Skipper.
"Someone will have to go up, Sir, and see--" He hesitated.
"But--" said the Old Man, and stopped.
The Second Mate cut in.
"I shall go up, for one, Sir," he said, quietly.
Then he turned back to the crowd of us.
"Tammy," he sung out. "Get a couple of lamps out of the lamp-locker."
"i, i, Sir," Tammy replied, and ran off.
"Now," said the Second Mate, addressing us. "I want a couple of men to
jump aloft along with me and take a look for Stubbins."
Not a man replied. I would have liked to step out and offer; but the
memory of that horrible clutch was with me, and for the life of me, I
could not summon up the courage.
"Come! come, men!" he said. "We can't leave him up there. We shall take
lanterns. Who'll come now?"
I walked out to the front. I was in a horrible funk; but, for very
shame, I could not stand back any longer.
"I'll come with you, Sir," I said, not very loud, and feeling fairly
twisted up with nervousness.
"That's more the tune, Jessop!" he replied, in a tone that made me glad
I had stood out.
At this point, Tammy came up, with the lights. He brought them to the
Second, who took one, and told him to give the other to me. The Second
Mate held his light above his head, and looked round at the hesitating
men.
"Now, men!" he sung out. "You're not going to let Jessop and me go up
alone. Come along, another one or two of you! Don't act like a damned
lot of cowards!"
Quoin stood out, and spoke for the crowd.
"I dunno as we're actin' like cowyards, Sir; but just look at _'im_,"
and he pointed at Plummer, who still stood full in the light from the
Saloon doorway.
"What sort of a Thing is it 'as done that, Sir?" he went on. "An' then
yer arsks us ter go up agen! It aren't likely as we're in a 'urry."
The Second Mate looked at Plummer, and surely, as I have before
mentioned, the poor beggar was in a state; his ripped-up shirt was
fairly flapping in the breeze that came through the doorway.
The Second looked; yet he said nothing. It was as though the realisation
of Plummer's condition had left him without a word more to say. It was
Plummer himself who finally broke the silence.
"I'll come with yer, Sir," he said. "Only yer ought ter 'ave more light
than them two lanterns. 'Twon't be no use, unless we 'as plenty er
light."
The man had grit; and I was astonished at his offering to go, after what
he must have gone through. Yet, I was to have even a greater
astonishment; for, abruptly, The Skipper--who all this time had scarcely
spoken--stepped forward a pace, and put his hand on the Second Mate's
shoulder.
"I'll come with you, Mr. Tulipson," he said.
The Second Mate twisted his head round, and stared at him a moment, in
astonishment. Then he opened his mouth.
"No, Sir; I don't think--" he began.
"That's sufficient, Mr. Tulipson," the Old Man interrupted. "I've made
up my mind."
He turned to the First Mate, who had stood by without a word.
"Mr. Grainge," he said. "Take a couple of the 'prentices down with you,
and pass out a box of blue-lights and some flare-ups."
The Mate answered something, and hurried away into the Saloon, with the
two 'prentices in his watch. Then the Old Man spoke to the men.
"Now, men!" he began. "This is no time for dilly-dallying. The Second
Mate and I will go aloft, and I want about half a dozen of you to come
along with us, and carry lights. Plummer and Jessop here, have
volunteered. I want four or five more of you. Step out now, some of
you!"
There was no hesitation whatever, now; and the first man to come forward
was Quoin. After him followed three of the Mate's crowd, and then old
Jaskett.
"That will do; that will do," said the Old Man.
He turned to the Second Mate.
"Has Mr. Grainge come with those lights yet?" he asked, with a certain
irritability.
"Here, Sir," said the First Mate's voice, behind him in the Saloon
doorway. He had the box of blue-lights in his hands, and behind him,
came the two boys carrying the flares.
The Skipper took the box from him, with a quick gesture, and opened it.
"Now, one of you men, come here," he ordered.
One of the men in the Mate's watch ran to him.
He took several of the lights from the box, and handed them to the man.
"See here," he said. "When we go aloft, you get into the foretop, and
keep one of these going all the time, do you hear?"
"Yes, Sir," replied the man.
"You know how to strike them?" the Skipper asked, abruptly.
"Yes, Sir," he answered.
The Skipper sung out to the Second Mate:
"Where's that boy of yours--Tammy, Mr. Tulipson?"
"Here, Sir," said Tammy, answering for himself.
The Old Man took another light from the box.
"Listen to me, boy!" he said. "Take this, and stand-by on the forrard
deck house. When we go aloft, you must give us a light until the man
gets his going in the top. You understand?"
"Yes, Sir," answered Tammy, and took the light.
"One minute!" said the Old Man, and stooped and took a second light from
the box. "Your first light may go out before we're ready. You'd better
have another, in case it does."
Tammy took the second light, and moved away.
"Those flares all ready for lighting there, Mr. Grainge?" the Captain
asked.
"All ready, Sir," replied the Mate.
The Old Man pushed one of the blue-lights into his coat pocket, and
stood upright.
"Very well," he said. "Give each of the men one apiece. And just see
that they all have matches."
He spoke to the men particularly:
"As soon as we are ready, the other two men in the Mate's watch will get
up into the cranelines, and keep their flares going there. Take your
paraffin tins with you. When we reach the upper topsail, Quoin and
Jaskett will get out on the yard-arms, and show their flares there. Be
careful to keep your lights away from the sails. Plummer and Jessop will
come up with the Second Mate and myself. Does every man clearly
understand?"
"Yes, Sir," said the men in a chorus.
A sudden idea seemed to occur to the Skipper, and he turned, and went
through the doorway into the Saloon. In about a minute, he came back,
and handed something to the Second Mate, that shone in the light from
the lanterns. I saw that it was a revolver, and he held another in his
other hand, and this I saw him put into his side pocket.
The Second Mate held the pistol a moment, looking a bit doubtful.
"I don't think, Sir--" he began. But the Skipper cut him short.
"You don't know!" he said. "Put it in your pocket."
Then he turned to the First Mate.
"You will take charge of the deck, Mr. Grainge, while we're aloft," he
said.
"i, i, Sir," the Mate answered and sung out to one of his 'prentices to
take the blue-light box back into the cabin.
The Old Man turned and led the way forrard. As we went, the light from
the two lanterns shone upon the decks, showing the litter of the
t'gallant gear. The ropes were foul of one another in a regular "bunch
o' buffers[1]." This had been caused, I suppose, by the crowd trampling
over them in their excitement, when they reached the deck. And then,
suddenly, as though the sight had waked me up to a more vivid
comprehension, you know, it came to me new and fresh, how damned strange
was the whole business... I got a little touch of despair, and asked
myself what was going to be the end of all these beastly happenings.
You can understand?
[Footnote 1: Modified from the original.]
Abruptly, I heard the Skipper shouting, away forward. He was singing out
to Tammy to get up on to the house with his blue-light. We reached the
fore rigging, and, the same instant, the strange, ghastly flare of
Tammy's blue-light burst out into the night causing every rope, sail,
and spar to jump out weirdly.
I saw now that the Second Mate was already in the starboard rigging,
with his lantern. He was shouting to Tammy to keep the drip from his
light clear of the staysail, which was stowed upon the house. Then, from
somewhere on the port side, I heard the Skipper shout to us to hurry.
"Smartly now, you men," he was saying. "Smartly now."
The man who had been told to take up a station in the fore-top, was just
behind the Second Mate. Plummer was a couple of ratlines lower.