It was quite dark before the _Pirate_ had come up with the wreck. The
skipper and Trunnell had gone below to their supper, and I had charge of
the deck, with orders to heave the ship into the wind when we came
abreast, and sing out for the mate to man the boat.
We were barely able to make within half a mile dead to leeward, but when
we did, I backed the main yards and clewed up the courses, taking in the
royals to keep from drifting off too fast in the gloom.
Trunnell came on deck and gave orders to get out the boat. She was soon
at the channels, jumping and thrashing in the sea, for the breeze was now
quite strong. The mate jumped into her with four men, and Thompson went
to the break of the poop and told me I could go below to supper. Chips
and the steward came aft, also, and we made out to eat a square meal in
silence, each making a sign to his neighbor toward the back of his belt.
While we ate, listening for the sound of oars that would tell of the
return of the boat, we could hear snatches of the sad talk of the
two women in the after-cabin, through the bulkhead. This did not
tend to raise our spirits, and we hurried through to be on deck when
Trunnell returned.
Scarcely had we gained the main deck when we heard the regular sound of
the oars and oar-locks. Soon the dim shadow of the boat was seen heading
toward us, outlined against the light in the eastern sky where the moon
was rising.
We took our places at the waist and awaited developments. Jackwell stood
directly above me, and I could see his face with its glinting eyes turned
toward me. His mustache was waxed into sharp points and curved upward,
while his protruding chin and beak-like nose appeared to draw even nearer
together. He was evidently quite well satisfied that he would be able to
take care of his passengers, for he said nothing to me to indicate that
he was disturbed by my proximity to the gangway.
I had decided to shoot Andrews the moment he came over the side, without
a word. This much I had confided to Chips and Johnson. They would stand
by me if there was a general attack, and we would make the best terms
possible afterward.
The boat drew close aboard, and I could see the backs of the rowers swing
fore and aft to the stroke. Then she shot alongside and was fast to the
mizzen channels, and I stepped back ready for action. Jackwell noticed my
move and drew his pistol. I drew mine, and glancing around I saw that the
carpenter and Johnson were standing near, with their weapons at hand, and
half a dozen sailors with them. I would not be alone.
A form sprang over the side, and I raised my weapon almost before I knew
it. Then I recognized Trunnell.
"You can disarm that young fool, Trunnell," said Jackwell, putting away
his gun. "It's lucky for him you've come back without any one, or I'd
have shot him in half a second more."
The little mate came down the poop steps and went up to me.
"You better go below, Rolling," said he. "I didn't tell him," he added
under his breath, "that you had said you'd mutiny afore I left, or he
would probably have done for both you and Chips. He doesn't even know now
that Chips was with you, so get into your room and pipe down."
I was so dazed at Trunnell coming back alone I could hardly talk. I
looked again over the side to see if there was no mistake. All the men
were now aboard, and only the empty craft was there, dancing at the end
of her painter. Then I turned and followed the mate below, he stopping
just long enough to give orders to hoist in the boat and swing the yards.
Jackwell went to the wheel, and away the ship went to the westward,
leaving the shadowy thing there on the eastern horizon to mark the end of
a fine ship. I stopped a moment to look at the derelict, and the rising
moon cast a long line of silver light across the sea.
Out in that shining track, a dark stick rose from the water. That was the
last I saw of the _Sovereign_.
"Where were they?" I asked Trunnell, as we came into the cabin.
"Well," said the little mate, coolly, "since you've worked yourself up so
much over the matter, and as we're a-goin' along on our course agin, as I
suggested to the skipper afore we raised the wrack"--here he went to the
pantry and brought out a bottle, and held it out to me.
"No," I said; "I don't want anything to drink. Tell me what became of the
fellows on the wreck. It's my second watch, if I remember right, and I'll
be ready to turn out at eight bells."
"Well," said Trunnell, "where they is an' where they is not, stumps me.
Where a feller goes when he dies is mostly a matter o' guesswork, so I
don't know as I can say eggzackly jest where them fellers is at."
Here he took a long drink, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. I
put my gun in my room, and sat down at the cabin table, where he held the
bottle as though undecided whether to take another drink or put it away
in the pantry. Rum appeared to be easy of access on the ship, and I knew
I could get it any time I wanted it.
"Well, ye see, the way of it ware like this," went on the mate. "I
didn't take no stock o' those fellers bein' aboard a ship what had been
afire, so when ye went into stays an' swore to do bloody murder an'
suddin death to them fellers, I didn't let on to the old man. What's the
use? says I. We ain't a-goin' to bring them back noways."
"Weren't they aboard?" I asked.
Trunnell gave me a long, keen look.
"Be ye tellin' o' this yarn, Rolling, or me?" he said.