Blown Up
To play the part of a bold hero, I suppose I ought to have made a
dash for the burning train and put out the fire. But I did nothing
of the kind--I simply stood still and watched with horror-stricken
eyes the dim glimmer of the fuse. Even had I had the presence of
mind and the courage to make the attempt, the ordering of the
barrels would have prevented me, for the train was laid 'twixt tiers
standing so close together that there was scarce a hand's width
between their bulging sides.
Already I regarded myself as doomed to die a swift and terrible
death, but remembering my comrades in the boat, I backed away from
the hatchway. I tried to raise a warning shout, but not a sound save
a feeble gurgle could I utter. My tongue clave to the roof of my
parched mouth, while my heart beat like a sledge-hammer.
Dipping my hand in the water that flooded the floor of the hold, I
moistened my lips, then--
"Push off, men!" I shouted. "A fuse!"
The effect of my warning was instantly plain. The man who had
accompanied me on deck leapt into the long-boat, and I heard the
scraping of their oars as the crew pushed off with feverish haste.
Now that I look back upon this matter, I can scarce blame them. They
acted according to my orders, combined with the thought of
self-preservation. Doubtless in their panic they knew not whether
one or two persons had leapt from the ship's bulwarks into the boat.
But be that as it may, they rowed off with all their might and left
me to my fate--and a hideous one at that.
Yet, as the explosion had not taken place, I gathered courage, and
seizing the rope by which I had descended into the hold, I began to
swarm up it. Suddenly, although it had appeared sound and had borne
my weight before, it parted like pack thread, and I fell on my back
in the hold, where the water broke my fall.
I was on my feet in an instant, now alert to take every possible
chance of saving myself, and seeing a shaft of light in the dim
recesses of the after hold, I waded down the sloping planks till the
water rose to my shoulders.
A few strokes sufficed to bring me to where a small hatch
communicated with the main deck, for the water was here so high that
by raising my arm I could grasp the coaming of the hatchway.
Though my sodden clothing seemed like lead as my body drew clear of
the surface, I managed to drag myself through the opening and gain
the deck, where, without a moment's hesitation, I rushed on to the
poop, and sprang over the taffrail into the sea.
I must have dived to a depth of from two to three fathoms, for I
could see the rocky bottom of the sea a few feet below me; and just
as I was on the point of ascending to the surface, I heard the roar
of the explosion.
It seemed as if the drums of my ears were broken by the concussion,
while the water was agitated by a sudden current, or eddy, that
swept me along the bottom. I remained underneath till I could
contain my breath no longer, then with a few strokes I rose to the
surface.
All around a heavy, pungent cloud, or rather haze, of smoke
enveloped everything, though towering above me I could discern the
outlines of the ship's poop. That, at all events, had withstood the
shock and had proved my salvation, for the pieces of shattered
timber were still falling, many of them being shot skywards to a
terrific height.
I trod water for a space till all danger from the falling debris was
over, then, swimming round the scorched and shattered side of the
ship, I found a place where the timbers had been torn away right to
the water's edge.
Half-suffocated by the fumes, for many of the planks still
smouldered, I made my way aft to where the poop deck remained
practically intact; and utterly done up, I threw myself down, too
dazed to realize that I had been miraculously preserved.
How long I remained in that position I cannot tell, but at length I
staggered to my feet and looked around.
The ships of the escaping buccaneers were still visible, though
nearly hull down. They had hauled to the wind and were standing on a
northerly course parallel with the eastern shore of the island.
Looking round the harbour, I could see the _Golden Hope_ and the
_Neptune_, their sides crowded with men, while within a few hundred
yards of them was the long-boat, rowing slowly, with her gunwale
barely showing. So she had not escaped unhurt, I reasoned.
Of the vessel on which I stood nearly two-thirds had quite
disappeared, while of the quarter-deck only a few blackened
crossbeams and ribs remained. All around were pieces of timber of
all sizes and shapes, slowly drifting shorewards with the flood
tide.
The black flag, with its grinning skull and crossbones, was trailing
in the water under the wreck's quarter. This would serve for a
signal, so, hauling it on board, I lashed it to a pike, which in
turn I fastened to an iron socket that at one time had supported the
poop lantern.
My signal was soon observed, and a boat was put off from the
_Neptune_; and while awaiting her arrival I ran below and made a
second examination of the cabins and after hold. Most of the former
were luxuriously furnished, though they had suffered severely, from
both our shot and the effect of the explosion. Yet, brief as was my
inspection, I saw that two of them were used as store places, and
that they were filled with the loot of many an unfortunate vessel.
Gold and silver ornaments and plate, coins of a dozen different
countries, and other precious goods filled the lockers. To me it
seemed enough for the ransom of a king.
Looking through the hatch by which I had escaped from the hold, I
perceived how nearly the whole of the treasure had been lost to us,
for now, plainly visible in the flooded after-magazine, were barrels
of powder, far more than the fore part of the ship had contained;
while from one of them a wisp of tow floated towards the surface.
Its charred end showed how near had been the consummation of the
buccaneers' diabolical plan, for when the magazine was flooded the
fuse had burned to within a foot of the powder.
Great was the astonishment of the men to find me alive and unhurt,
for although I had been seen standing on the poop, no one on the
ship had recognized me. My clothing was rent, and my damp hair hung
over my face, which was black with charcoal, smoke, and dust.
Captain 'Enery had concluded that I had perished in the explosion,
and that the figure they had seen on board was that of one of the
buccaneers, who, on the vessel being blown up, had swum off from a
neighbouring shoal.
"The wreck is full of treasure," I announced, and on hearing the
good news the boat's crew gave a hearty cheer. Some were for making
their way on board, but the coxswain sternly ordered them to remain
in the boat.
"The stuff is safe enow," said he, "and all will share and share
alike when the time comes. There's plenty of work to be done before
we trouble about what's aboard yon craft."
This was the case, for when the boat put me once more aboard the
_Golden Hope_ I found all hands busily engaged in clearing up the
damage done in the fight. The work of making good the mischief done
aloft would take weeks of continuous labour, though the spars of the
wrecked buccaneer could be utilized to replace our own, for,
trailing over the side, they had escaped the force of the explosion.
But though the ships suffered severely, our loss in men was far more
to be deplored. The Golden Hope had eleven killed and fifteen
wounded, including Captain Jeremy, and the _Neptune_ nine killed and
seventeen wounded. In the stockade, however, not a single man had
been hit. Thus, including the six men who were missing after our
futile expedition to recover the treasure, only one hundred and
twenty-eight were fit for duty, and of these nearly two score had
received slight wounds.
My first act on returning on board was to see how Captain Jeremy was
progressing. I found that he was sleeping peacefully, his wound
having been carefully dressed; and that, should no feverish symptoms
make their appearance, his recovery would be but a matter of a few
weeks. As quietness was a necessity, it was planned that he should
be carried ashore to the stockade with the rest of the wounded on
the following day, so as not to be disturbed by the shipwrights and
riggers at their work.
That night, as I lay on my bunk, I pondered over the words of the
old friar, Pedro Lopez. Surely we had gone through enough bloodshed
and fire to fulfil the exacting conditions that had to be carried
out ere we recovered the treasure? Would not the facts that a score
of our men were awaiting burial on this far-off island, and that
over thirty more were groaning on the ballast, serve to appease the
wrath of the slaughtered Spaniards? And when I thought of my ordeal
by fire, and my terrible position as I waited for the crash of the
explosion, I prayed that we had seen the last of our perils.
It must have been about eight bells of the middle watch (4 a.m.),
ere it was light, when a sharp rattle of musketry caused me to
awaken with a start. Hastily rushing on deck, I found our men
already standing to their guns, while on shore a desperate conflict
was in progress.
The stockade was attacked on all sides.