CHAPTER III.

THE DEATH SHIP IS BOARDED BY A PIRATE.

I will not say that there is more of melancholy in the slow creeping of

darkness over the sea than in the first pale streaking of the dawn, but

the shining out of the stars one by one, the stretching of the great

plain of the deep into a midnight surface, whether snow-covered with

tossing surges or smooth as black marble and placid as the dark velvet

sky that bends to the liquid confines, has a mystic character which,

even if the dawn held it, would be weak as an impression through the

quick dispelling of it by the joyous sun, but which is accentuated in

the twilight shadows by their gradual darkening into the blackness of

night. I particularly felt the oncoming of the dusk this evening. The

glory of the sunset had been great, the twilight brief. Even as the

gold and orange faded in the west so did the canvas of our ship steal

out spectrally into the grey gloom of the north and east; the water

washed past wan as the light of the horny paring of moon; the figures

of the four men to windward were changed into dusky, staring statues,

and the wake sloped out from the starboard quarter full of eddying

sparkles as green as emeralds. The canvas of the schooner, that had

shone to the sunset with the glare of yellow satin, faded into a pallid

cloud that often bothered the sight with its resemblance to the large

puffs of vapour blowing into the east.

"I should be glad to know her intentions," said I, uneasily. "If she

be a piratical craft it will not do for you to be seen by her people,

Imogene. Is it curiosity only that brings them racing up to us? May

be--may be! They will be having good glasses aboard and have been

excited by our extraordinary rig."

"Why should I not be seen, Geoffrey?" asked my innocent girl.

"Because, dearest, they may fall in love with and carry you off."

"But if they should take us both?" said she, planting her little hand

under my arm.

"Ay, but one would first like to know their calling," I replied,

straining my eyes at the vessel that, at the pace she was tearing

through it, would be on our quarter within hailing distance in twenty

minutes.

What did Vanderdecken mean to do? He made no sign. Fear and passion

enough had been raised in him by the Centaur's pursuit; was I to

suppose that yonder schooner had failed to alarm him because he was

puzzled by her rig and by the substitution of the tricolour for the

royal _fleur de lys_?

"Speak to him, Imogene," said I, "that I may follow. They may resent

any hints from me if I break in upon them on a sudden.

"Captain," she called in her gentle voice, "is not that vessel chasing

us?"

He rounded gravely upon her: "She is apparently desirous of speaking

with us, my child. She will be hailing us shortly."

"But if she be a pirate, captain?"

"Doth Herr Fenton still think her so?" he demanded.

"She has the cut of one, sir," said I; "and in any case her hurry to

come at us, her careful luff and heavy press of sail, should justify us

in suspecting her intentions and preparing for her as an enemy."

"Will the Englishman fight, think ye, captain, if it comes to that?"

exclaimed Van Vogelaar, in his harshest, most scoffing voice.

Taking no notice of the mate, I said in a low voice to Imogene,

speaking quickly, "_They_ have nothing to fear. It is not for a

Frenchman's cutlass to end these wretches' doom. I am worried on your

account. Dearest, when I bid you, steal to my cabin--you know where it

is?"

"Yes."

"And remain there. 'Tis the only hiding-place I can think of. If they

board us and rummage the ship--well, I must wait upon events. In a

business of this kind the turns are sudden. All that I can plan now is

to take care that you are not seen."

I should have been glad to arm myself, but knew not where to seek for

a weapon; but thinking of this for a moment, it struck me that if the

schooner threw her people aboard us, my being the only man armed might

cost me my life; therefore, unless the whole crew equipped themselves

I should find my safest posture one of defencelessness.

"Do these men never fight?" I asked Imogene.

"There has been no occasion for them to do so since I have been in the

ship," she answered. "But I do not think they would fight. They are

above the need of it."

"Yet they have treasure, they value it, and this should prove them

in possession of instincts which would prompt them to protect their

property."

"God manages them in His own fashion," said she. "They cannot be

reasoned about as men with the hot blood of life in them and existing

as we do."

Yet their apathy greatly contradicted the avidity with which they

seized whatever of treasure or merchandise they came across in

abandoned ships, nor could I reconcile it with the ugly cupidity of the

mate and the lively care Vanderdecken took of those capacious chests

of which he had exposed to me the sparkling contents of two. Blind as

they were, however, to those illustrations of the progress of time

which they came across in every ship they encountered, they could not

be insensible to the worthlessness of their aged and cankered sakers

and their green and pivot-rusted swivels. Their helplessness in this

way, backed by the perception in them all that for some reason or other

no harm ever befel them from the pursuit of ships or the approach of

armed boats, might furnish a clue to the seeming indifference with

which they watched the pale shadow of the schooner enlarging upon the

darkling froth to leeward, though I am also greatly persuaded that much

of the reason of their stolidity lay in their being puzzled by the rig

of the schooner and the flag she had flown; nor perhaps were they able

to conceive that so small a craft signified mischief, or had room for

sailors enough to venture the carrying of a great tall craft like the

Braave. But Vanderdecken could not know to what heights piracy had

been lifted as a fine art by the audacity and repeated triumphs of the

rogues whose real ensign, no matter what other colours they fly, is

composed of a skull, cross-bones, and hour-glass upon a black field.

The moon shed no light; but the wind was full of a weak dawn-like

glimmer from the wash of the running waters and from the stars which

shone brightly among the clouds. In all this while the schooner had

never started a rope-yarn. Her white and leaning fabric, swaying with

stately grace to the radiant galaxies, resembled an island of ice in

the gloom, and the illusion was not a little improved by the seething

snow of the cleft and beaten waters about her like to the boiling of

the sea at the base of a berg. She showed us her weather side, and

heeled so much that I could not see her decks, but there was nothing

like a gun-muzzle to be perceived along her. A gilt band under her

wash-streak shone out dully at intervals to her plunges, as though a

pencil had been dipped in phosphorus and a line of fire drawn.

She was looking up to cross our wake and settle herself upon our

weather quarter. Nothing finer as a spectacle did I ever behold at sea

than this spacious-winged vessel when she crossed our wake, rearing

and roaring through the smother our own keel was tossing up, flashing

into the hollows and through the ridges with spray blowing aft over

her as though she were some bride of the ocean and streamed her veil

behind her as she went, the whole figure of her showing faint in the

dull light of the night, yet not so feeble in outline and detail but

that I could distinguish the black, snake-like hull hissing through the

seas, her sand-coloured decks, a long black gun on the forecastle, and

a glittering brass stern-chaser abaft the two black figures gripping

the tiller, the great surface of mainsail going pale to its clew at the

boom end, a full fathom over the quarter, the swelling and mounting

canvas, from flying-jib to little fore-royal, from the iron-hard

stay-foresail to the thunderous gaff-topsail on high, dragging and

tearing at the sheets and bringing shroud and backstay, guy and

halliard, sheet and brace so taut that the fabric raged past with a

kind of shrieking music, filling the air as though some giant harp were

edging the blast with the resonance of fifty wind-wrung wires. Great

heaven! how did my heart go to her! Oh, for two months' command of that

storming clipper with Imogene on board!

'Twas a rush past with her; all that I saw I have told you, saving a

few men in the bows and a couple of figures watching us near to the two

helmsmen. If she mounted guns or swivels along her bulwarks I did not

see them.

I overheard Vanderdecken exclaim, "It is as I surmised; she hath but a

handful of a crew; she merely wishes to speak us."

Van Vogelaar returned some gruff answer in which he introduced my

name, but that was all I heard of it.

Once well on our weather quarter, the schooner ported her helm, luffing

close; her gaff-topsail, flying-jib, royal and topgallant sail melted

to the hauling upon clewlines and downhauls as though they had been

of snow and had vanished upon the black damp wind; but even with the

tack of her mainsail up, they had to keep shaking the breeze out of the

small sail she showed, to prevent her from sliding past us.

"Oh, ze sheep ahoy!" sung out one of the two figures on the

quarter-deck, the man coming down to the lee rail to hail, "What sheep

air you?"

As with the Centaur, so now, Vanderdecken made no response to this

inquiry. He and the others stood grimly silent watching the schooner,

as immobile as graven images.

I said to Imogene, "'Tis dark enough to show the phosphor upon the

ship. That should give them a hint. Mark how vividly the shining crawls

about these decks."

"Ze sheep ahoy!" shouted the man from the schooner that lay to

windward, tossing her bows and shaking the spray off her like any

champing and curvetting steed angrily reined in and smoking his

impatience through his nostrils. "What sheep air you?"

Vanderdecken stepped his towering figure on to the bulwark; "The

Braave," he cried, sending his majestic voice ringing like a note of

thunder through the wind.

"Vhat ees your country?" yelled the other.

Vanderdecken did not apparently understand the question, but probably

assuming that these sea-interrogatories followed in the usual manner,

answered, "From Batavia to Amsterdam," speaking as the schooner's man

did in English, but with an accent as strongly Dutch as the other's was

French.

Thought I, he will see that we are a Holland ship, and as France and

their High Mightinesses are on good terms he may sheer off. But even as

this fancy or hope crossed my mind, a sudden order was shouted out on

the schooner and in a breath the vessel's hatches began to vomit men.

They tumbled up in masses, blackening the white decks, and a gleam of

arms went rippling among them.

"Captain Vanderdecken!" I bawled, "that fellow is a pirate! Mind, sir,

or she will be aboard of you in another minute!" And not stopping to

heed the effect of my words, I grasped Imogene by the hand and ran with

her off the poop. "Get you to my cabin, dearest, they are pirates and

will be tumbling in masses over the rail directly."

I pressed my lips to her cheek and she glided like a phantom down the

hatch-ladder.

What I relied on by advising her concealment I could not have

explained; since those who rummaged the vessel were pretty sure to

enter the cabins. But my instincts urging me to hide her away from the

first spring of the men on to our deck, I took their counsel as a sort

of mysterious wisdom put into me by God for her protection; it coming

to this in short--that there might be a chance of their overlooking her

if she hid below, whereas they were bound to see her if she remained

on deck, to be ravished by her beauty, and, supposing them pirates,

to carry her off as a part of their booty, according to the custom of

those horrid villains.

I stepped away from the hatch, lest it might be supposed I was guarding

it, and stationed myself in the deep shadow under the quarter-deck

ladder, where it and the overhanging deck combined cast an ink-like

shade. There was small need to look for the schooner, you could hear

her hissing like red-hot iron through the water as she came sweeping

down upon our quarter under a slightly ported helm, ready to starboard

for the heave of the grapnels and the foaming range alongside. There

was no show of consternation among the crew of the Death Ship; nay, if

emotion of any sort were at all visible, you would have termed it a

mere kind of dull, muddled, Dutch curiosity. I had fancied they would

jump to arm themselves and assume some posture of defence; instead

of this they had gathered themselves together in several lounging

groups about the waist and gangway, many of them with pipes in their

mouths, the fire of which glowed in bright, red spots against the

green and lambent glitterings upon such woodwork as formed their

background; and thus they hung with never a monosyllable uttered

among them, their silence, their indifference, their combination of

ghostly characteristics, with their substantial, glooming shapes, more

terrifying to my mind than had every man of them a carbine pointing

from his shoulder, with a crew forward as numerous again standing

match in hand at twenty murdering pieces!

All in an instant the shadow of the schooner's canvas was in the air

deepening the gloom upon our decks with a midnight tincture; you heard

the snarling wash of water boiling between the two vessels; the claws

of the grapnels flung from the bows and stern of the Frenchman gripped

our aged bulwark with a crunching sound, and the mystical fires in the

wood burnt out to the biting iron like lighted tinder blown upon. Then,

in a breath, I saw the heads of twenty or thirty fellows along the line

of the bulwark rail, and as they sprang as monkeys might into our ship,

one of them that grasped a pistol exploded it, and the yellow flash

was like the swift waving of a torch, in the glare of which the faces

of the silent, staring, indifferent sailors of the Braave glanced in a

very nightmare of white, unholy countenances.

There was some yelping and howling among the Frenchmen as they tumbled

inboard--indeed, the seamen of that nation cannot budge an inch without

making as much noise as would last a British forecastle several

voyages; but their clamour sounded to me very much like the cries of

men who did not relish their errand and raised these shouts for the

same reason that sets a boy whistling on a road in a dark night. They

jumped from the rail in slap-dash style indeed, waving their cutlasses

and flourishing their pikes; but whether it was that they were suddenly

confounded by the silence on our decks, or that they had caught sight

in the pistol flash of the faces of the Death Ship's crew, or that

the suspicion of our true character, which must have been excited in

them by the glow upon our hull and by the ancient appearance of our

spars, was quickly and in a panic way confirmed and developed by the

glitterings upon our deck, the aspect of our ordnance, the antiquity

suggested by the arrangement of our quarter-deck and poop--all of

these points visible enough in the wild, faint light that swarmed

about the air but all of them taking ghostly and bewildering, ay, and

terrifying emphasis from the very dusk in which they were surveyed;

whatever the cause, 'tis as sure as that I live who write this, that

instead of their making a scamper along the decks, charging the Dutch

seamen, flinging themselves down the hatchways and the like, all which

was to have been expected, they suddenly came to a dead stand, even

massing themselves in a body and shoving and elbowing one another, for

such courage, maybe, as is to be found in the feel of a fellow-being's

ribs, whilst they peered with eyes bright with alarm at the phlegmatic

sailors of Vanderdecken and around then at the ship, talking in fierce

short whispers and pointing.

It takes time to record the events of thirty seconds, though all

that now happened might have been compassed whilst a man told that

space. 'Twas as if the frosty, blighting Curse of the ship they had

dashed into had come upon their tongues, and hearts and souls. Over

the side, where the grappling schooner lay, heaving with a cataractal

roaring of water sounding out of the sea between, as the Flying

Dutchman rolled ponderously towards her, loud orders in French were

being delivered, mixed with passionate callings to the boarders upon

our decks; the schooner's sails waved like the dark pinions of some

monstrous sea-fowl past ours, which still drew, no brace having been

touched. I guessed there were thirty in all that had leapt aboard,

some of them negroes, all of them wildly attired in true buccaneering

fashion, so far as the darkness suffered my eyes to see, in boots and

sashes, and blouses and lolling caps; there they stood in a huddle of

figures with lightning-like twitching gleams shooting off their naked

weapons as they pointed or swayed or feverishly moved, staring about

them. Some gazed up at the poop, where, as I presently discovered,

stood the giant figure of Vanderdecken, his mates and the boatswain

beside him, shapes of bronze motionlessly and silently watching. But

the affrighting element--more terrible than the hellish glarings

upon the planks, bulwarks and masts, more scaring than the amazing

suggestions--to a sailor's eye--of the old guns, the two boats and all

other such furniture as was to be embraced in that gloom--was the crowd

of glimmering faces, the mechanic postures, the grave-yard dumbness

of the body of spectral mariners who surveyed the boarding party in

clusters, shadowy, and spirit-like.

I felt the inspiration, and, with a pang of Heaven-directed sympathy

with the terrors working in the Frenchmen's breasts, which needed but

a cry to make them explode, I shouted from the blackness of my ambush,

in a voice to which my sense of the stake the warning signified in its

failure or success, lent a hurricane note: "_Sauvez vous! Sauvez vous!

C'est l'Hollandais Volant!_"

What manner of Paris speech this was, and with what accent delivered,

I never paused to consider; the effect was as if a thunder-bolt had

fallen and burst among them. With one general roar of _l'Hollandais

Volant!_ the whole mob of them fled to the side, many dropping their

weapons the better to scramble and jump. Why, you see that shout of

mine exactly expressed their fears, it made the panic common; and 'twas

with something of a scream in their way of letting out the breath in

their echoing of my shout that they vanished, leaping like rats without

looking to see what they should hit with their heads or tails.

I sprang up the quarter-deck ladder to observe what followed, and

beheld sure enough, the towering outline of Vanderdecken standing at

the rail that protected the fore-part of the poop-deck gazing down

upon the schooner with his arms folded and his attitude expressing

a lifelessness not to be conveyed by the pen, though the greatest

of living artists in words ventured it. Against the side were the

two mates and Jans looking on at a scene to whose stir, clamour,

excitement, they seemed to oppose deaf ears and insensible eyes. Small

wonder that the Frenchmen should have fled to my shout, fronted and

backed as they were in that part of the ship into which they had leapt,

and where they had come to an affrighted stand, by the grisly and sable

shapes of Vanderdecken and his comrades aft, and by the groups of

leprous-tinctured anatomies forward.

I peered over the rail. The two vessels lay grinding together, and as

the tall fabric of the Death Ship leaned to the schooner, you thought

she would crush and beat her down, but with the regularity of a pulse

the dark folds of water swept the little vessel clear, sometimes

raising her when our ship lay aslant to the level of our upper deck,

and giving me, therefore, a mighty good prospect of what was happening

in her. Both vessels were off the wind and were surging through it with

a prodigious hissing betwixt their sides.

The fright of the boarders had proved contagious. I shall never

forget the sight! Small as the schooner was, there could not have

been less than ninety men on her decks, and they made a very hell of

the atmosphere about them with the raving notes in their cries and

bawlings. My knowledge of French was small, but some of their screams

I could follow, as for instance: "'Tis the Flying Dutchman!"

"Cut us adrift! Cut us adrift!"

"Flatten in those head-sheets! Shove her off! Shove her off! Pole her,

my children, with a couple of sweeps!"

"Now she starts. No! What holds her? Ha! ha! the weather topsail-brace

has fouled the Hollander's fore-topsail yard-arm. No use going aloft!

Let go of it--let go of it--that it may overhaul itself!"

Imagine about four-score throats--some with the guttural thickness

of the negro's utterance--all together roaring and delivering orders

such as those of which I have given you specimens! Figure the decks

throbbing with men rushing with apparent aimlessness from one side

to the other, from one end to the other--not a vestige of discipline

among them--a drowning yell or two coming up from between the ships

where some wretch that had fallen overboard was holding on--the sails

shaking, the water washing beyond in a glaring white that gave a

startling distinctness to the shape of the schooner as she rose softly

to the level of our upper deck bulwarks upon the seething snow!

Why, no matter how strongly imagination should present the picture,

what is the simulacrum as compared to that reality which I need but

close these eyes to witness afresh? The wildness of the scene took

a particular spirit from the frowning, rocking mass of the Death

Ship--the tomb-like silence in her--the still and glooming shapes

watching the throes and convulsions of the terrified Frenchmen and

negroes from the poop and forward over the rail--the diabolic glowing

in her timbers--the swaying of her dusky canvas like the nodding of

leviathan funeral plumes--the dance of the slender slip of moon among

the rigging, defining the vast platforms of the barricaded tops,

monstrous bulgings of blackness up there as though a body of electric

cloud swung bulbously at each lower masthead.

They had the sense to cut the lines which held them by their grapnels

to our ship, and presently to my great joy--for if they were true

pirates, as there was good reason to believe from their appearance and

manner of laying us aboard, 'twas impossible to feel sure that the

fiercer spirits among them might not presently rally the rest--the

schooner went scraping and forging past ahead of us; snapping her

topgallant mast short off, with the royal yard upon it, by some brace,

stay or backstay fouling us in a way the darkness would not suffer

me to witness, and in a few minutes she had crossed our bows and was

running away into the north east, rapidly expanding her canvas as she

went, and quickly melting into the darkness.

I stopped to fetch a few breaths and to make sure of the Frenchman's

evanishment by watching. More excitement and dread had been packed into

this time than I know how to tell of.

I slipped to the hatch on the upper deck, descended a tread or two,

and softly called. In a minute I espied the white face of my dearest

upturned to me amidst the well-like obscurity.

"They are gone," said I, "the danger is over."

She instantly stepped up.

"I heard you cry out 'The Flying Dutchman! Save yourselves!'" she

exclaimed, with a music almost of merriment in her voice. "It was a

bold fancy! What helter-skelter followed!"

I took her hand and we entered the cabin. The richly-coloured old lamp

was alight, the clock ticked hoarsely, you heard the scraping of the

parrot clawing about her cage.

"Oh," she cried, "what a dismal place is that they have given you to

sleep in! I believed I was hardened to the dreadful flickerings upon

the deck and sides, but they scared me to the heart in that cell--and

the noises too in the hold! Oh, Geoffrey, how severe is our fate!

Shall we ever escape?"

"Yes, my dearest, but not by ships, as I have all along told you. A

chance will offer, and be you sure, Imogene, it will find me ready.

Wondrous is God's ordering! Think, my dear, that in the very Curse that

rests upon this ship has lain our salvation! Suppose this vessel any

other craft and boarded by those villains, negroes of the Antilles, and

white ruffians red-handed from the Spanish Main--'tis likely they were

so and are cruising here for the rich traders--by this time where would

my soul be? and _you_--ay, there is a virtue in this Curse! It is a

monstrous thought--but, indeed, I could take Vanderdecken by the hand

for the impiety that has carried you clear of a destiny as awful in its

way as the doom these unhappy wretches are immortally facing."

She shuddered and wept a little, and looked at me with eyes the

brighter for those tears which I dared not kiss away in that public

cabin.

The Death Ship: A Strange Story, Vol. 3 (of 3) · 第 3 / 12 章