THE DOOR IN THE BULKHEAD.
We left the leaders of the mutiny in the forecastle, consulting, in
their own coarse and blustering fashion, about the capture of the
cabin, and thus acquiring entire possession of the ship.
"Batten down the companion-hatch--kiver up the skylight with
tarpaulin," suggested the short, thickset ruffian Sharkey, "and then
smoke 'em out, like rats."
"Wa-al, but look ye here--the tew gals," drawled Badger, inserting an
enormous quid in his mouth with the point of his jack-knife. "Would
ye smoke 'em tew, till they went dead, eh?"
"Aye, the senoritas," added Zuares, "that would never do; they are
the best plunder on board--the plunder most to my taste, at least."
"The cabin we must and shall get," said Pedro, grinding his teeth.
"While one of these men aft is permitted to live, the ship cannot be
said to be ours."
"And if one should escape, anyhow," added Sharkey, "we might have
some man-o'-war in our wake before we knew where we were."
"Dead men tell no tales, darn 'em, that's old buccaneer style, long
afore Kidd went a-cruising in the _Vulture_," said the Yankee; "and
they or we must be gone coons, or, airthquakes and ginger! you can't
reckon on what may 'appen, you can't."
"And they have possession of the bread, beef, and spirit room, and
all that we most require," resumed Pedro, "for we can't eat the dry
goods and hardware in the forehold, mates; so the knife it must be."
As the pirate spoke, a fierce gleam came into his eyes, and in his
blind wrath he drove his knife repeatedly into the lid of the
sea-chest, around which they were seated, and which proved to be the
property of his American compatriot, Mr. Badger.
"Walley of Gehosophat! airthquakes and alligators!" exclaimed that
personage; "keep calm dew, Pedro. Yew are getting tew riled,
capting. I'd like to gouge old Phillips, rayther, and prison the
whole bilin' of 'em aft!"
"Massa Pedro, Massa Barradas," said Quaco, the black cook, looking
suddenly out of his berth with a tremendous grin on his sable visage,
"I could tell you something funny--yaas! yaas!--I could."
"_Maldita!_ then why the devil don't you tell it," growled Pedro;
"time is short, and I can't get the Malay proas out of my head."
"You know where the wite gals sleep?"
"Yes; out with what you have got to say, you dark-skinned fool."
"Yaas! yaas!" grinned Quaco, whose yellow eyeballs gleamed with
mischief.
"Presto, quick, or my knife may tickle your ribs," roared Pedro,
setting down a bottle, from which he had sucked the last drop of a
mixture of champagne and brandy, compounded by Badger.
"Under the companion-stair, Massa Pedro, a door opens with a slide
into the wite gals' cabin."
"_Demonio!_ do you say so, darkey?"
"Can yew make tracks ahead now, capting?"
"You are certain of this, Quaco?" said Pedro, bending his black brows
as he looked at the cook.
"Sartain as that um a living nigger, Massa Pedro, yaas! yaas! Boy
Joe, the steward, showed it to Quaco many a time."
"And what use would you make of this door, Quaco?"
"What use?" repeated the negro, putting out a long, red tongue, while
a leer, like that of a fiend, shone in his black, glittering, and
half-shut eyes.
"_Hombre!_ yes, speak."
"Get at the wite gals fust, and the cabin arter--yaas! yaas!--eh,
Massa Pedro?"
"I reckons, Pedro, that the darkey is the only one among us with any
brains in his skull, a thick 'un though it be," said Badger; "but
this sliding door----"
"I will look to it now," said Pedro, staggering up, for he was very
tipsy. "_Cuidado_, mates--take care who follows me till I call for
help," he added, with a dark glance at Hawkshaw, who eyed him with
sullen resentment from a corner of the comfortless den, of which he
was now one of the occupants.
"Oh, Barradas," he exclaimed, "if you have a human soul, spare them.
They will surely die."
"Oh, _demonio_, yes--yes. These fine ladies have a habit of dying,
and always coming to again," said Zuares, laughing.
"Make way there," exclaimed Pedro, brandishing his knife with
something of mock and more of real ferocity. "One of them is mine by
a cast of the dice, and mine she shall be," he added, hoarsely and
huskily, while reeling towards the ladder.
"It is for my sins I am here," groaned Hawkshaw.
"Well, it is not likely for your virtues that you are among us,
mate," said Zuares, laughing.
"_Cuidar el lobo_ (Beware of the wolf)!" said Pedro, with a cruel
grin, as he went up through the scuttle, or little hatch of the
forecastle, and went aft with a stealthy step.
Inflamed to a dangerous pitch of rashness, lust, and savagery by the
champagne and brandy, which he had been mixing and imbibing freely,
this powerful and agile ruffian left the bunks on his fatal errand.
Save Bolter, the Canadian, who was at the wheel, and half tipsy too,
there was not a man on deck now. Under her courses the ship was
going before the wind, with a gentle breeze, which fanned pleasantly
the hot, flushed face of Pedro Barradas, who paused for a moment,
looked aloft, and then at the horizon.
The moon had newly risen from the sea to the eastward. To the west a
line of deep crimson light, but transparent as the purest crystal,
lingered between the dark horizon of the ocean and a long straight
bank of black cloud, and the wave-tops, of a deeper tint than indigo,
were seen to rise and fall incessantly between. Amid this low and
blood-red belt of light, a few bright stars were twinkling.
Though weird and impressive, the night was solemn and pleasing; but
all its gentle influences were lost on the ruffianly soul of Pedro
Barradas.
Being barefooted, he crept along unheard, and at the companion-way he
paused to listen.
No sound came from the cabin; but he knew well that there were armed
watchers below--armed better than himself--so he looked carefully to
the powder in the pan of his old flint-lock and brass-barrelled
Spanish pistol, felt if his knife was loose in its sheath, and then
crept softly down the companion-stair, and past the cabin-door, on
the inside of which Morley Ashton was seated on Mr. Basset's trunk of
law-books, as already described, listening to the casual sounds,
amongst which he heard neither the large bare feet of Pedro nor the
creaking of the stairs, as the barricade and the straining of the
ship's timbers muffled everything in the steerage.
Stooping down on his hands and knees, with his black eyes close to
the bulkhead, or partition, Pedro felt about for the door mentioned
by the mischievous Quaco, and discovered it at once.
It was an aperture formed in the bulkhead, about four feet high and
nearly three feet broad; it slid in grooves, like a window-sash, and
could be pulled up by two brass knobs, screwed into the middle of the
door for that purpose. It had evidently been made for the conveyance
of stores, casks, bales, &c., in and out, when that cabin was not
required by passengers; and the strong hands of the swarthy Pedro
almost trembled with ferocious joy and eagerness as he grasped the
knobs, and essayed to remove the only barrier that lay between him
and his helpless victims.
Stiffened by long disuse, it refused for a time to yield. At the
third effort he started it, and a ray of light shone out below its
lower edge. Stealthily as a tiger cat, Pedro paused to listen. All
was still within, and the perfect silence there assured him that the
two young ladies and their old attendant slept.
"_Bueno!_" he muttered, with a chuckle of satisfaction.
Then he inserted his hard, copper-coloured hands, and slowly and
gently drew the door up within its slide, its creaking being lost
amid the other sounds incident to the motion of the ship.
Stooping, he entered, and found himself almost within arm's length of
the bed wherein the sisters lay, and he held his obnoxious breath as
he drew nearer.
Accustomed to take every precaution, and fertile in expedients, he
glanced now at the cabin-door, and saw a brass bolt on the inside.
This he softly shot into its place, to prevent surprise or
interruption by the occupants of the larger cabin.
Now a sound made his heart start, his eyes gleam, and his hand clutch
the knife in his girdle; but it was only a prolonged snore from the
old attendant, Nance Folgate.
While his dark eyes flashed with impatience, the swarthy Spanish
American drew near, and looked boldly and steadily upon the sleeping
girls. Both seemed so delicately pale, so beautiful and gentle, when
hushed together in repose, that for a moment, as the gust of evil
passion mounted to his head, he knew not upon which to pounce.
Both sisters were only partially undressed, but the closeness of the
little cabin had made them partly throw off the coverlet.
Rose lay with her soft cheek reposing on Ethel's bare white shoulder,
and their rounded arms, so taper and delicately fair, were clasped
about each other. Shining like flossy silk, a dark tress of Ethel's
hair mingled with her sister's lighter braids.
A smile that was singularly sweet played about the childlike mouth of
Rose; but Ethel's face was pale and placid, and the length of the
dark lashes that fringed her snow-white eyelids imparted a charming
softness to her face, while a half sigh that escaped her from time to
time made her swelling bosom heave beneath her sister's cheek.
Never had their atrocious visitor looked on two such fair, soft,
English faces, nestling thus a-bed; and there was such an air of
enchanting innocence, candour, and perfect modesty about the two
sleeping sisters, that, instead of calming the daring thoughts which
swelled in the heart of Barradas, it served only to add fresh stings
to them.
We have said that, for a moment, he was doubtful which to seize.
Rose was certainly the smallest and most easily borne; but Ethel's
larger form tempted him the most.
"_Que bonita!_ it shall be you," he muttered.
Drawing from his muscular bull-like throat a dirty, greasy necktie,
he suddenly twisted it tightly over Ethel's face, and particularly
across her mouth, so that to make an outcry was impossible on her
part.
He then drew her out of bed, and, in so doing, awoke Rose, whose
shrill shriek at once reached the ears of Morley Ashton.
"_A los infernos!_" cried Pedro, savagely.
His knife was his first idea; but, as the girl's life was not worth
taking, he dashed out the cabin-lamp with his clenched hand, tore
Ethel with brutal violence through the aperture by which he had
entered, and shut the sliding door with a crash, preventing, but
unintentionally, the entrance of his amiable brother Zuares, who had
glided after him like a tawny snake, less with views of fraternal
assistance than with those of doing a little abduction on his own
account.
Rose fell senseless on her face; but Ethel, recovering something of
her native energy and strength, grasped the rail of the
companion-stair with such vigour that all the muscle of Barradas was
required to tear her tender hands away from it, and then, with, an
awful imprecation of mingled rage and triumph, he sprang up and bore
her along the deck.
On lifting up Ethel's Indian shawl, part of it was found wedged in
the port, or door in the bulkhead, thus showing at once the place and
mode of ingress.
But so firmly had Barradas's strong hand shut it down that it was not
until after several efforts made by Phillips and Bartelot, the avenue
was opened. Then Morley pressed through, and pistol in hand, rushed
like a madman on deck, just in time to see Ethel--his tender and
beloved Ethel--borne by Pedro down the fore-scuttle, into the very
den and stronghold of the mutineers!
As he sprang forward, an empty cask--part of the plunder--started
from the hold, rolled against him; he slipped, and fell heavily on
the deck. Then, on rising, half stunned, he heard the sound of
pistol-shots in the forecastle, followed by a despairing cry from
Ethel, and a man's hoarse howl of agony.
At that awful moment the heart of Morley died within him, and his
blood seemed turned to water.