when it was reported to him that the barque could part company at any
moment he went forward, and, mustering the steerage passengers, told
them he had not only observed their efforts to make themselves useful on
board, but had also noticed that those efforts had been crowned with a
very fair measure of success; he would now, therefore, ship the whole of
them for the passage, if they chose, paying them ordinary seamen's wages
from the commencement of the voyage. So good an offer was not to be
lightly refused; and, after a few minutes' consultation together, the
men unanimously declared their willingness to accept it. This made the
rest of the business quite plain sailing for the skipper; and, closing
with the _Umhloti_, he hailed Mr Bryce to say that he intended to send
him home in charge, and that he was to ascertain how many of the men
then with him would volunteer to return to England. A crew of fourteen
hands, all told, was soon made up, Tim Parsons and two of the
apprentices being of the number; and just as night was closing down the
two vessels parted company, Captain Blyth, Ned, and the saloon
passengers taking advantage of the opportunity to send home letters to
their friends, the skipper taking the precaution to enclose them all in
his dispatch to his owners, lest Mr Bryce, in his indifference, might
neglect to post them. It may as well be mentioned here that the
_Umhloti_ arrived safely in England about a fortnight later than the
passengers and crew who had abandoned her; and that the letters she
carried duly reached their destination.
The changes rendered necessary by this drafting off of so large a
proportion of her crew involved certain promotions on board the _Flying
Cloud_, in which promotion Ned, to his intense gratification, was made a
sharer, he being appointed acting second-mate _vice_ Mr Willoughby, who
was promoted to the post of chief, whilst Williams was made boatswain's-
mate.
The ship being now once more close-hauled, with the south-east trade-
wind blowing steadily, and only a very moderate amount of sea running.
Miss Stanhope regarded the occasion as propitious for the perfecting of
herself in the art of steering; and she accordingly practised with great
assiduity. Ned, of course, by virtue of his promotion, was no longer
required to take his trick at the wheel--he was now the officer in
command of the starboard watch--but Sibylla did not allow that
circumstance to interfere in the least with her plans; on the contrary,
she rather made it subservient to them. For, whereas she had before
been obliged to wait for her lesson until Ned's trick came round, she
now simply watched her opportunity, and whenever she saw that the young
man had nothing very particular to do, she would go up to him and say,
"Mr Damerell, is it convenient for you to give me a steering-lesson?"
Whereupon Ned would make a suitable response, and, accompanying the
young lady aft, would say to the helmsman "Here, Dick, or Tom, or
Harry", as the case might be, "go forward and do so and so; Miss
Stanhope wishes to give you a spell. When she is tired I will let you
know, and you can come aft again and relieve her." Upon which the
seaman, with an inward chuckle and much carefully suppressed jocularity,
would shamble away for'ard, fully convinced by past experience that he
need think no more about the wheel until his trick should again come
round. By the time that the ship had run through the south-east trades,
Sibylla could steer her, when on a wind, as well as the best helmsman on
board; and, proud of her skill, she then began to long for the
opportunity to try her hand with the ship when going free. This
opportunity came, of course, in due time; and, though the fair
helmswoman at first found the task far more difficult that she had ever
imagined it could possibly be, she soon developed such extraordinary
skill that Ned's prophecy at length became literally fulfilled, Captain
Blyth gradually getting into the way of turning to Miss Stanhope when
any exceptionally fine steering had to be done--as, for instance, when
some contumacious craft ahead persistently refused to be overhauled--and
saying, "I am afraid there is no resource but to invoke your aid, my
dear young lady; we shall never overtake yon stranger unless you will
oblige us with a few of your scientific touches of the wheel."
Whereupon Sibylla, looking very much gratified, would make some laughing
reply, and forthwith take the wheel, keeping the bows of the _Flying
Cloud_ pointing as steadily for the strange sail as though they had been
nailed there, always with the most satisfactory result.
It was perhaps only a natural consequence of Ned's assiduous "coaching"
of Miss Stanhope in the helmsman's art that the formal relations usually
subsisting between passengers and officer should to a certain extent
have given place to a kind of companionship, almost amounting to
_camaraderie_, between these two young people. The seamen were almost,
if not quite, as quick as their skipper in detecting what was going
forward; and it is not very surprising that, with their love of romance,
they should forthwith regard the handsome young mate and his pupil as
the hero and heroine of an interesting little drama. This view of the
affair afforded the men for'ard intense gratification. Ned was
exceedingly popular with them; and the tars regarded the conquest with
which they so promptly credited him almost as a compliment to
themselves, and a triumph to which each might claim to have contributed,
even though in ever so slight and indirect a way. It will be seen later
on that this fancy on the part of the crew was the means of placing
Sibylla in a most trying situation.
A few days later a sad fatality occurred. The ship was somewhat to the
eastward of the Cape, going nine knots, with her topgallant-sails
furled, the wind blowing very fresh from the northward, and a
tremendously heavy swell running. Captain Blyth, the mate, and Ned were
all on the poop, busy with their sextants, the hour being near noon,
when, the ship giving a terrific lee-roll, Mr Willoughby lost his
balance, and, gathering way, went with a run to leeward. Whether the
accident was due to the poor man's anxiety to preserve his sextant from
damage or not can never be known, but certain it is that, from some
cause or other, he failed to bring up against the light iron protective
railing which ran round the poop, overbalancing himself instead, and
falling headlong into the water.
A shriek from the ladies, who witnessed the accident, and the shout of
"Mate overboard!" from the helmsman caused the skipper and Ned to lay
their instruments hurriedly down on deck and run aft to the lee quarter,
where the first thing they saw was the unfortunate man's hat tossing on
the crest of a sea about a dozen yards astern.
"He can't swim a stroke," exclaimed Ned to the skipper; and then, before
the latter could stop him, the gallant fellow took a short run, and
plunged headlong into the foaming wake of the ship.
"Down helm!" exclaimed the skipper to the man at the wheel, springing at
the same time to the lee main-brace, which he let fly. The men forward,
meanwhile, having heard the cry of "Mate overboard," rushed aft to the
braces, and in another minute the ship was hove-to, with her mainsail in
the brails.
This done, Williams, who was perhaps the keenest sighted man in the
ship, sprang into the mizen-rigging, and, making his way with incredible
rapidity into the top, stood looking in the direction where he expected
to see the two men.
"D'ye see anything of them, Williams?" shouted the skipper.
"Yes, sir; I can see _one_ of them," was the reply; "but which one it is
I can't tell. It must be Ned though, I think, for he seems to be
swimming round and round, as though looking for the mate."
"Keep your eye on him, my man; don't lose sight of him for a single
instant!" shouted the captain. Then, turning to the men, who were
clustered together on the poop, he exclaimed: "Now then, men, what are
you thinking about! Out with the boat, my hearties; and be smart about
it!"
The men moved to the tackles and threw the falls off the pins down on to
the deck, talking eagerly together meanwhile; then one of them turned,
and, stepping up to the skipper, said:
"Who is to go in the boat, sir? I must say I don't care about the job;
and the others say the same. We don't believe we could get away from
the ship's side in such a sea as this."
Captain Blyth stamped on the deck in his vexation and despair. It was
only too true; the boat would to a certainty be stove and swamped if any
such attempt were made; and that would mean the loss of more lives.
What was to be done? Leave two men to perish he would not, if there was
any possible means of saving them.
"Can you still see either of them, Williams?" hailed the captain.
"Yes, sir; I can still see the one I saw at first; but not the other,"
was the reply.
"We _must_ pick him up, if possible," exclaimed the skipper. "Up helm,
my man; hard up with it. Man the main-braces, and fill the topsail!"
At this juncture Sibylla, who had not heard the first part of the
skipper's speech, stepped up to Captain Blyth, ashy pale, and gasped:
"What are you going to do, captain? Is it possible you are going to be
inhuman enough to leave that poor fellow there _to die_?"
"No, my dear," was the answer. "I am going to save him, if it is in
human power to do so. You go below, now, like a good girl, and persuade
the others to go too; this is no sight for a woman to look upon."
But Sibylla could no more have gone below than she could have flown.
She walked aft, and stood at the taffrail with tightly-clasped hands and
starting eyes, looking eagerly astern, her whole body quivering with an
agony of impatience at what seemed to her the tardy movements of the
ship.
As a matter of fact, however, the _Flying Cloud_ had never proved
herself more handy, or been worked more smartly than on that precise
occasion; had she been sentient she could scarcely have yielded to her
commander's will more readily than she did. Keeping broad away until
she had good way on her the skipper watched his opportunity, and,
signing to the helmsman, the wheel was put over, and the ship flew up
into the wind, tacking like a yacht, Williams at the same time making
his way up on to the royal-yard, in order that the main-topsail might
not interfere with his range of vision. In effecting this change of
position, notwithstanding his utmost care, he contrived to lose sight of
the diminutive speck on the surface of the water; and when Captain Blyth
again hailed, asking him if he still saw it, he was compelled to answer
"No." An anxious search of about a minute, however--a minute which
seemed an age to Sibylla--enabled him to hit it off once more, and he
joyously hailed the deck to say that the person--whoever it might be--
was still afloat and broad on the lee-bow.
"Keep her away a couple of points," commanded Captain Blyth; "and pass
the word for the boatswain to muster all the light heaving-line he can
lay his hands upon. Range yourselves fore and aft along the lee
bulwarks, my lads, and let each one stand by to heave a rope's-end with
a standing bowline in it as soon as we get near enough. How does he
bear now, Williams?"
"Straight ahead, sir. Luff, or you will be over him! It is Ned, sir."
"Luff!" said the skipper. "Man the main-braces, some of you, and stand
by to heave the main-yard aback."
Captain Blyth then sprang upon a hen-coop, and peered eagerly out ahead.
"I see him!" he eagerly exclaimed at last. "Back your main-topsail.
Luff, my lad; luff and shake her! So, well there with the main-braces,
belay all; and stand by fore and aft with your ropes'-ends. Look out,
for'ard there; now _heave_! Missed him, by all that's clumsy! Try you,
the next man. Missed again; line not long enough. Steady, men, steady,
or you'll lose him yet. Now, look out, Ned, my lad! Heave, boatswain,
and let us see what you can do. _Well_ hove! Pay out the line, pay out
smartly--ha! lost it. Tut! tut! this will _never_ do. Well done! he
has it this time! Let him slip it over his shoulder; that's well.
_Now_ haul in--handsomely, my lads--and mind you don't lose him."
Half a minute more and poor Ned, gasping for breath, speechless, and too
exhausted to stand upright, was dragged triumphantly up over the side
and seated on the deck, where, of course, all hands instantly crowded
around him. Doctor Henderson, however, promptly interfered, and, taking
charge of the patient, was soon able to pronounce that, barring
exhaustion, the poor fellow was all right; upon which the anxious little
crowd dispersed, Sibylla retiring to her state-room, locking herself in,
and gaining relief to her overwrought feelings by abandoning herself to
a perfect tempest of hysterical tears.
Under the doctor's skilful treatment Ned was soon sufficiently restored
to answer a few questions, when he stated that though he had remained
continuously on the watch from the moment of his rising above the
surface after his first plunge to almost the moment of his being picked
up, he had never caught a single glimpse of the mate, and that it was
his impression the unfortunate man must have been hurt in his fall, and
that he had never risen above water again. Notwithstanding this
statement the ship was kept hove-to for another half-hour, with a man on
the look-out on each topgallant-yard; when, nothing having been seen of
the missing man during that time, Captain Blyth reluctantly gave up the
search, and, wearing round, the ship once more proceeded on her voyage.
CHAPTER SIX.
THE SPRINGING OF THE MINK.
The deplorable fatality mentioned in the last chapter necessitated a
further rearrangement of the official duties on board the _Flying
Cloud_; Ned being advanced still another step and made acting chief-
mate, or "chief-officer" as it is the custom to dub this official in the
merchant service, whilst another apprentice--a very quiet, steady young
man named Robert Manners--was promoted to the post of second-mate thus
rendered vacant. Although these two posts--the most important and
responsible in the ship next to that of the master--were now filled by
two young men whose united ages fell short of forty years, the
arrangement appeared to work in the most thoroughly satisfactory manner.
The lads performed their onerous duties efficiently; the crew were as
orderly and obedient as heretofore, and not a single sinister omen or
indication manifested itself to arouse anxiety in the mind of the
skipper. To add to Captain Blyth's satisfaction, the island of New
Amsterdam was sighted and passed on the morning of the tenth day
succeeding the loss of the unfortunate Mr Willoughby, and that, too, in
a direction and at an hour which precisely verified the prediction of
the captain, who rather prided himself upon his skill and accuracy as a
navigator.
For several nights previous to this occurrence the skipper had been
losing a great deal of rest; he had been too anxious to sleep, knowing
that during his absence from the deck the ship was in absolute charge of
one or the other of two lads whom he remembered, as though it had been
but yesterday, joining him without a particle of experience. But as day
after day, and night after night passed, and he saw what excellent use
those two lads had made of the training and instruction he had so
conscientiously bestowed upon them, he had gradually grown less anxious.
And now, with fine weather, a fair breeze, and New Amsterdam sighted
and passed, the poor fagged skipper once more knew what it was to enjoy
an easy mind; and as he bade Ned "good-night" on the poop, about five
bells in the first watch, he announced, in tones loud enough to be
distinctly heard by the man at the wheel, that he intended to treat
himself to a whole night's sleep, and that he was not to be called or
disturbed unless for something out of the common.
When, therefore, about three o'clock next morning, he was aroused from
sleep by a gentle tap at the outer door of his state-room, Captain
Blyth's first coherent thought was: "I wonder what is the matter now!"
It was nothing to do with the weather--unless the sky had assumed a
threatening aspect--for, by long force of habit, he had acquired the
power of detecting, even during his soundest sleep, any such important
change in the state of the elements as a material increase of wind or
sea, and, though the sleep from which he had been aroused was as sound
as it ever falls to the lot of a seaman to enjoy, he had been quite
conscious all the time that neither the sough of the wind in the rigging
nor the steady swinging motion of the ship had become intensified. It
was, therefore, in a somewhat peevish tone that he inquired:
"Well, what is the news?"
"Will you please step for'ard, sir, and see what ails Bob--young Mr
Manners, I mean, sir?" said a voice which the skipper recognised as
belonging to one of the seamen. "He's on the fo'c's'le-head, a cussing
and carrying on as if he was mad, sir; and two of the hands is holding
him down so's he sha'n't fling hisself overboard."
"Whew!" whistled poor Captain Blyth in dismay. "All right, my man; I'll
be out there in a brace of shakes! What can be the matter with the poor
lad?" he soliloquised, as he hastily drew on his most necessary
garments. "A fit, perhaps, brought on by over-anxiety. Well, I won't
disturb anybody until I see what it is; then, if necessary, I must rouse
out Dr Henderson."
And, as he came to this conclusion, the worthy man softly opened his
state-room door and stepped out on deck.
The night was dark, there being no moon, whilst the star-lit sky was
almost blotted out by the squadrons of fleecy cloud which swept with
stately motion athwart it. Yet there was light enough to reveal to the
skipper a dark blot on the forecastle, which he knew to be a cluster of
men; and toward these he hurriedly made his way. Before he could reach
them, however, two bare-footed men stepped softly out behind him from
the galley; and whilst one seized and pinioned his arms behind him, the
other flourished a large-headed, short-handled hammer over his head
whilst he whispered fiercely in the ear of the paralysed skipper:
"Give but a single outcry, and I'll spatter your brains about the deck."
Then he added, somewhat more gently: "No harm is intended you, Captain
Blyth, but we mean to have the ship. We _will_ have her; and were you
to raise an alarm it would only cause bloodshed, which we are most
anxious to avoid. Where's Nicholls? Here, Nicholls, this man is your
prisoner; get the bilboes and clap them on him. And--mind--I shall hold
you responsible for his safekeeping!"
"But--but--Williams," stammered poor Captain Blyth, who now identified
the speaker, "what is the meaning of all this? I--I--don't understand
it!"
"No time to explain now," was the answer. "Tell you all about it later
on if you care to hear. Come, lads, away aft with us, and let us secure
our other prisoner!"
In obedience to this command, the mob of mutineers who had clustered
about the door of the forward deck-house--into which the unfortunate
skipper had been thrust--melted away, and Captain Blyth found himself
left alone with his jailer and young Manners, the latter being bound
hand and foot, and lying gagged in one of the bunks which had been
vacated when the steerage passengers were drafted into the forecastle.
In the midst of his bewilderment and dismay the skipper still retained
enough presence of mind to note, by the light of the single lantern
which illuminated the place, that his young subordinate was suffering
severe discomfort from the presence of the gag--a large belaying-pin--in
his mouth; and, turning to the man Nicholls, he pointed out that, unless
the crew wished to add the crime of murder to that of mutiny, it would
be advisable to remove the gag at once.
"Well, sir," said the man, civilly enough--he was one of the former
steerage passengers--"I don't know what to do about that. I'd be
willing enough to take the thing out of the young gentleman's mouth, but
my orders are strict; and if anything was to happen through my meddling
you may depend upon it I should be made to suffer for it."
"If that is what you are afraid of, my good fellow," said the skipper,
"you may remove the gag at once. Nothing _shall_ happen, I promise you.
The crew have possession of the ship, safe enough; and, bound hand and
foot as we two are, we can do nothing to recover her. So out with it at
once, my man, unless you wish to see the poor lad suffocate before your
eyes."
This was enough; the gag was at once removed, the skipper at the same
time cautioning Manners against any ill-timed attempt to raise an alarm,
and then Nicholls was questioned as to the reasons for the mutiny.
"Well, sir," was the reply, "I don't rightly understand the ins and outs
of the thing, myself; but Williams has been talkin' to the men, and,
accordin' to his showin', labourers and mechanics and sailors have been
robbed and cheated out of their rights time out o' mind. So the long
and the short of it is that we've all took a solemn oath to stand by one
another in an attempt to get what rightfully belongs to us."
"What rightfully belongs to you?" exclaimed the skipper in bewilderment.
"I don't understand you, my man. You surely do not pretend to say that
_I_ have defrauded you of anything to which you are entitled? A certain
amount of wages is, of course, due to you in respect of work already
performed; but it is the custom to pay seamen only when they arrive at
the port of discharge--"
"Oh, yes, sir; we understands all that, of course," interrupted
Nicholls. "It ain't that at all, sir; it's--"
Captain Blyth, however, was not destined to learn just then what "it"
was, for at this point the conversation was broken in upon by the
reappearance of a party of the mutineers, headed by Williams, and having
poor Ned among them as a prisoner.
"There, Ned, there's the skipper. In you go, my lad, and stow yourself
alongside of him; and that will complete the party," exclaimed Williams
cheerfully, as he thrust the lad unceremoniously through the doorway of
the deck-house. "Now take the gag out of his mouth," he commanded; "but
I caution you," he continued sternly, addressing himself particularly to
Ned, "that if either of you utter a single outcry I'll blow his brains
out without hesitation." And as he spoke he drew from his pocket a
revolver which he began deliberately to load.
"You are carrying things with a high hand, my fine fellow!" observed
Captain Blyth fiercely; "but I warn you at once that you are only
preparing a halter with which to hang yourself. The fact that something
is wrong on board here will infallibly be discovered by the first man-
of-war which falls in with us, and your punishment will speedily follow.
Hear me, men," he continued, raising his voice and addressing the crew
generally; "I don't in the least understand your motive for behaving in
this extraordinary fashion; but cast me and my two mates adrift, and I
promise you on my word of honour that I will listen patiently to
whatever complaint you may have to make, and will redress any wrong
which you can show has been done you."
"Spare your breath, skipper," answered Williams quietly. "We haven't
done this thing in a hurry, and we're not to be talked out of it in a
moment; and perhaps the sooner you understand that the better. No, sir;
we've no fault to find with you or anybody else aboard here. The fault
lies with them who've robbed, and cheated, and ground down the likes of
us for centuries; and the time has now come when the few of us as
belongs to this ship's fo'c's'le intend to help our selves to what we've
as good a right as anybody to have. As to punishment, why, we've agreed
to take our chances about that; and as to men-o'-war, how many have we
fell in with, so far, this voyage? We'll take our chances about them
too. Josh Williams may be no scholar, cap'n, but he knows a thing or
two--he knows enough to be able to take care of his own neck, and of the
necks of them that trust him too."
"My good fellow, you don't in the least know what you are talking
about!" exclaimed Captain Blyth.
"Enough said, sir--enough!" interrupted Williams. "All the talking in
the world won't undo what's done. We've put our heads into the noose,
but we're not fools enough to sway away upon the yard-rope; so you may
spare yourself the trouble of further talk, and us the trouble of
listening to you. Now the present time is as good as any to tell you
what our plans are so far as you are concerned; so please pay attention.
We're all hands averse to bloodshed, and we intend to work our business
without it, if possible--you understand, _if possible_!--so, instead of
cutting your throats and heaving you overboard, we're going to land
_you_, Captain Blyth, on some island or another where you'll be able to
pick up a living, but from which you won't be likely to get away until
long after we've done with the ship. Young Manners there we shall clap
ashore on some other island four or five hundred miles away from you,
skipper; and the passengers we shall put ashore somewhere else, where
they'll not be likely to get us into trouble or to send trouble after
us. As for Ned, here, we intend to keep him with us to navigate the
ship."
"Do you?" ejaculated Ned. "Then understand at once and for all that I
decline to remain with you. What! do you suppose I will mix myself up
in any way or associate with a pack of rascally mutineers? I'll see you
all hanged first!"