ASHORE.
Arrived on deck it did not take the boys long to realize what had
happened. The yacht was aground, but whether on a reef of rocks or
on the shore was not at first plain. Suddenly a blinding flash of
lightning showed them the true situation. The _Valkyrie_ lay with her
bow ashore amidst what appeared to be a confused tangle of roots and
low growing shrubs. More than this it was impossible to make out. One
thing alone was clear—only too clear,—the voyage of the yacht was over.
She lay canted far over to one side, making it a difficult matter to
stand steadily on her sloping deck.
The crew were running about as if possessed. Any slight amount of
discipline that Medway and Hemming might have exercised over them
had vanished in this emergency. Some of them were actually trying
to get one of the two remaining boats over the side regardless of
the mountainous sea that was running. The play of the lightning was
incessant. The whole sky appeared to be ablaze with livid fire. In the
blue glare the figures on deck were outlined as plainly as if on the
screen of a moving picture theatre. But it was grim, real-life drama
that was being enacted.
The boys saw Medway and Hemming, with revolvers in their hands, go
slipping and sliding across the inclined deck and rush into the midst
of the group of seamen about the boat.
“Drop those falls, you fools!” they heard Hemming shout above the
tempest. “It’s death to launch a boat in this!”
But the panic-stricken sailors appeared not to notice the two mates.
They struggled with the boat and, finally, actually succeeded in
getting it overboard. Then they piled into it helter skelter. Some
of them fell overboard in their eagerness, but by the glare of the
lightning the boys could see that those in the boat dragged them on
board again before they were sent to the bottom.
A huge wave came bearing down on them and lifted the boat high in the
air. The boys uttered a shout of alarm. It looked inevitable that the
boat would be smashed to bits against the yacht’s side. But those on
board her managed to stave the frail craft off, and in a minute another
big sea swept the little boat with her load of human beings off into
the darkness beyond their ken.
Medway and Hemming stood leaning out over the bulwarks peering into the
night. They were shouting something, but the boys could not hear what.
The furious wind caught their words and hurled them broadcast before
they had properly left their lips.
“Is she breaking up?”
Tom shouted the words into Jack’s ear as the two boys, clinging to the
shrouds, stood on the inclined deck.
“I don’t think so,” was Jack’s reply, yelled with his hands to his
mouth, funnel-wise, “she’s grounded so far on shore that she’s safe for
the time being, anyway.”
“We’d better go below and see how the others are getting on,” came from
Tom the next minute.
In their excitement and fright the boys had utterly forgotten for the
time being their companions. The thought of the plight that they might
be in now recurred to them with redoubled force. Slipping along the
precipitous deck they made their way to the cabin companionway. As they
went they noticed the marks of the relentless axes of the crew. Except
the main cabin house amidship, the yacht had been practically stripped
of every bit of available timber. She looked, as indeed she was, a
sorry derelict.
It is now necessary to turn back a little and discover how the
prisoners in the adjoining cabin had been faring. It will be recalled
that when Jack and Tom had been summarily taken from the cabin they
shared with Dick Donovan, the next stateroom was occupied by Mr.
Chadwick, Professor Von Dinkelspeil and Captain Sprowl.
The two weeks that had been spent by the boys in the engine-room had
passed like eternity to those locked in the cabins. Of course, they had
been able to communicate by means of the “Morse” tappings. But Dick’s
knowledge of telegraphy was so limited that he had not been able to
understand much of what was communicated to him. Nor had he been able,
except after a long interval, to explain to the others that Jack and
Tom had been taken from the cabin for some unknown reason connected
with the machinery of the yacht.
Food had been served to the prisoners regularly, but from the sailors
who brought it they had received no word of the fate of the two boys,
nor could even the promise of bribes elicit a word from the men. Under
the strain of their captivity and their uncertainty concerning Jack
and Tom, Mr. Chadwick’s health had suffered seriously. Dick, too, had
suffered from a kind of tropical fever, and lay in a semi-conscious
condition in his cabin for days. This was the more unfortunate as
Professor Dinkelspeil had given, through Mr. Chadwick’s telegraphy,
full instructions to the young reporter concerning the movable
partition.
It had been agreed by the prisoners that Dick should remove the
partition and get into the next cabin. There was a chance that the
door would be open, in which case Dick might make his way into the
main cabin and unlock their door in which they knew the key was kept.
What they would do after this was not arranged; but they all felt
that if they could get out they might find some way of bettering their
situation.
Dick’s illness interfered with these plans; but the night that the
storm broke he had forced himself to rise from his bunk, and despite
his weakness he determined to try to remove the partition separating
him from the next room. It was in panels, as he knew, and with the aid
of his knife, which, luckily, the men in possession of the yacht had
not thought worth taking from him, he succeeded in removing the screws
that held one of the panels in place.
He lifted the panel out and found himself looking into the next cabin.
It was brilliantly lighted and, to his astonishment, the walls were
lined with racks in which were rifles and pistols. It was, in fact,
Medway’s cabin, to which he had removed the yacht’s armory so as to
have it out of the way of any of the crew who might take it into their
heads to form a second mutiny.
While the yacht rolled and plunged in the hurricane, Dick climbed
through the hole made by removing the panel. Once in the cabin he stood
stock still, undetermined what to do. After a minute’s reflection he
decided to see if the door would open. But he had hardly taken a step
with this intention in view when the door was flung violently open and
Hemming stood before him.
For one instant both stood perfectly still. Dick’s knees shook under
him. Even in his usual health he would have been no match for the burly
Hemming, but as it was he felt incapable of putting up even the most
feeble resistance.
“You young imp of Satan, what are you doing in here?” bellowed Hemming,
with a snarl like an angry tiger.
He raised his fist and sprang forward. Dick, more by instinct than
anything else, seized one of the pistols hanging on the wall. Hemming
paused as the boy leveled the weapon at him. But the next instant he
sprang forward as if to fell the boy to the ground. Dick jumped back to
avoid a heavy blow and his finger involuntarily pressed the trigger.
A click resulted, but there was no explosion.
The weapon was unloaded. With a shout of triumph Hemming rushed him,
but just as his hands were on Dick’s throat there came a stunning crash
that hurled them both to the floor.
When Dick, who had rolled under a bunk with the force of the upheaval,
regained his feet, he was alone in the cabin. Dazed and half stunned,
he stood still trying to collect his thoughts. Suddenly there came a
mighty pounding on the wall of the cabin he had just left. This was
accompanied by muffled shouts.
“Help!” was what Dick made out above the uproar about him.
He rushed to the door which Hemming had left open behind him. The
lights in the main cabin were still on and showed him that the lower
part of the place was awash with water. He had hardly time to realize
this discovery when the lights went out and the place was plunged in
total darkness.