The men went on busily provisioning the long-boat, some whistling gay
tunes, others laughing and passing jokes, all in good spirits, as
though they were going on a holiday expedition.
The shadow on the horizon was broadening fast, and the sun was sinking
quickly, making the ocean blood-red with its burning effulgence, and
veining the well-greased masts with lines of fire.
What had happened?
Even now, as I thought, was the villain lying dead, with the auger in
his hand?
The minutes rolling past seemed eternal. Five, ten, twenty minutes
came and went. The sun's lower limb was close against the water-line,
sipping the ruby splendour it had kindled. The breeze was now close
at hand, but we still lay in a breathless calm, and the sails flapped
softly to the tuneful motion of the deep.
Then some of the men who remained on deck went over the ship's side,
leaving four of the crew on the main-deck close against the gangway.
These men sometimes looked at me, sometimes into the cuddy, sometimes
forward, but none of them spoke.
Now the sun was half hidden, and the soft breeze blowing upon the
sails, outlined the masts against those which were backed.
Suddenly--and I started as though I had beheld a ghost--the carpenter
came round from before the galley, and walked quickly to the gangway.
"Over with you, lads!" he cried.
Like rats leaping from a sinking hull they dropped, one after the
other, into the long-boat, the carpenter going last. Their painter was
fast to a chain-plate, and they cast it adrift. The quarter-boat was in
tow, and in a few minutes both boats stood at some two or three cables'
lengths from the ship, the men watching her.
The last glorious fragment of the sinking sun fled, and darkness came
creeping swiftly over the sea.
I had stood like one in whom life had suddenly been extinguished--too
much amazed to act. Seeing the carpenter return, I had made sure that
he had killed the boatswain; but his behaviour contradicted this
supposition. Had he been attacked by the boatswain and killed him,
would he have quitted the ship without revenging himself upon me, whom
he would know to be at the bottom of this conspiracy against his life?
What, then, was the meaning of his return, his collected manner, his
silent exit from the ship? Had the boatswain, lying hidden, _died_?
The thought fired my blood. Yes, I believed that he had died--that the
carpenter had performed his task unmolested without perceiving the
corpse--and that, whilst I stood there, the water was rushing into the
ship's hold!
I flung myself off the poop, and bounded forward. In the briefest
possible time I was peering down the forescuttle.
"Below there!" I called.
There was no answer.
"Below there, I say, boatswain!"
My cry was succeeded by a hollow, thumping sound.
"Below there!" I shouted, for the third time.
I heard the sounds of a foot treading on something that crunched under
the tread.
"I am Mr. Royle. Bo'sun, are you below? For God Almighty's sake answer
and let me know that you are living."
"Have the skunks cleared out?" responded a voice, and, stumbling as he
moved, the boatswain came under the forescuttle and turned up his face.
"What have you done?" I cried, almost delirious.
"Why, plugged up two on 'em. There's only one more," he answered.
"One more what?"
"Leaks--holes--whatever you call 'em."
So saying, he shouldered his way back into the gloom.
It was now all as clear as daylight to me. I waited some minutes,
bursting with impatience and anxiety, during which I heard him
hammering away like a caulker. My fear was that the men would discover
that they had omitted to put a compass in the boats, and that they
would return for one. There were other things, too, of which they might
perceive the omission, and row to the ship to obtain them before she
sank.
Just as I was about to cry out to him to bear a hand, the boatswain's
face gleamed under the hatchway.
"Have you done?" I exclaimed.
"Ay, ay."
"Is she tight?"
"Tight as a cocoa-nut."
"Up with you, then! There is a bit of a breeze blowing. Let us swing
the mainyards and get way upon the ship. They are waiting to see her
settle before they up sail. It is dark enough to act. Hurrah, now!"
He came up through the forecastle and followed me on to the main-deck.
Though not yet dark, the shadow of the evening made it difficult to
distinguish faces even a short distance off. There was a pretty little
wind up aloft rounding the royals and top-gallant sails, and flattening
the sails on the mainyards well against the masts.
I stopped a second to look over the bulwarks, and found that the boats
still remained at about three cable-lengths from the ship. They had
slipped the mast in the long-boat; but I noticed that the two boats
lay side by side, four men in the quarter-boat, and the rest in the
long-boat, and that they were handing out some of the stores which had
been stowed in the quarter-boat, to lighten her.
"We must lose no time, Mr. Royle," exclaimed the boatswain. "How many
hands can we muster?"
"Three."
"That'll do. We can swing the mainyard. Who's the third?--the steward?
Let's have him out."
I ran to the cuddy and called the steward. He came out of the pantry.
"On to the poop with you!" I cried. "Right aft you'll find the bo'sun
there. Miss Robertson!"
At the sound of her name she stepped forth from her cabin.
"The men are out of the ship," I exclaimed. "We are ready to get way
upon her. Will you take the wheel at once?"
She was running on to the poop before the request was well out of my
mouth.
The boatswain had already let go the starboard main-braces; and as I
rushed aft he and the steward were hauling to leeward. I threw the
whole weight of my body on the brace, and pulled with the strength of
two men.
"Put the wheel to starboard!" I called out; and the girl, having cast
off the lashing with marvellous quickness, ran the spokes over.
"By God, she's a wonder!" cried the boatswain, looking at her.
And so was he. The muscles on his bare arms stood up like lumps of iron
under the flesh as he strained the heavy brace.
The great yards swung easily; the topsail, top-gallant, and royal yards
came round with the mainyard, and swung themselves when the sails
filled.
There was no time to gather in the slack of the lee-braces. I ran to
windward, belayed the braces, and raised a loud cry.
"They're after us, bo'sun!--they're after us!"
We might have been sure of that; for if we had not been able to
see them we could have heard them: the grinding of the oars in the
rowlocks, the frothing of the water at the boat's bows, the cries and
oaths of the men in the long-boat, inciting the others to overtake us.
Only the quarter-boat was in pursuit as yet; but in the long-boat they
were rigging up the stun'-sail they had shipped, meaning, as they were
to windward, to bear down upon us.
There was no doubt that they guessed their scheme had been baffled by
discerning _three_ men on deck. The carpenter at least knew that old
Mr. Robertson was too ill to leave his cabin, and failing _him_ he
would instantly perceive that a trick had been played; and though he
could not tell in that light and at that distance who the third man
was, he would certainly know that this third man's presence on board
implied the existence of a plot to save the ship.
As the boat approached I perceived that she was rowed by four men and
steered by a fifth, and presently, hearing his voice, I understood that
this man steering was Stevens.
The ship had just got way enough upon her to answer her helm. Already
we were drawing the long-boat away from our beam on to the quarter.
I shouted to Miss Robertson "Steady! keep her straight as she is!" for
even now we had brought the wind too far aft for the trim of the yards.
"Steward," I cried, "whip out one of those iron belaying-pins, and
stand by to hammer away."
We then posted ourselves, the boatswain and the steward at the gangway,
and I half-way up the poop ladder, each with a heavy belaying-pin
in his hand, ready to receive the scoundrels who were making for the
starboard main-chains.
The boat, urged furiously through the water, came up to us hand over
fist, the carpenter cursing us furiously, and swearing that he would do
for us yet.
I got my pistol ready, meaning to shoot the ruffian the moment he
should be within reach of the weapon, but abandoned this intention from
a motive of hate and revenge. I knew if I killed him as he sat there in
the stern sheets, that the others would take fright and run away; and
such was my passion, and the sense of our superiority over them from
our position in the ship as against theirs in the boat, that I made up
my mind to let them come alongside and get into the chains, so that we
might kill them all as a warning to the occupants of the long-boat, who
were now coming down upon us before the breeze.
I took one glance at Miss Robertson: her figure was visible by the side
of the wheel. She was steering as steadily as any sailor, and, with an
emotion of gratitude to God for giving us such help, and her so much
courage at this supreme moment, I addressed all my energies to the
bloody work before me.
The boat dashed alongside, and the men threw in their oars. The fellow
in the bow grabbed hold of one of the chain-plates, passed the boat's
painter around it, hauled it short and made it fast with incredible
activity and speed. Then pulling their knives out of the sheaths they
all came clambering into the main-chains.
So close as they now were, I could make out the faces of the men. One
was big Johnson, another Cornish, the third Fish, the fourth, Schmidten.
I alone was visible. The boatswain and the steward stood with uplifted
arms ready to strike at the first head that showed itself.
The carpenter sprang on to the bulwark just where I stood. He poised
his knife to stab me under the throat.
"Now, you murderous treacherous ruffian!" I cried at the top of my
voice, "say your prayers!"
I levelled the pistol at his head, the muzzle not being a yard away
from his face, and pulled the trigger. The bright flash illuminated him
like a ray of lightning. He uttered a scream shrill as a child's, but
terrific in intensity, clapped his hands to his face, and fell like a
stone into the main-chains.
"It is your turn now!" I roared to Johnson, and let fly at him. He was
holding on to one of the main shrouds in the act of springing on to
the deck. I missed his head, but struck him in the arm, I think; for
he let go the shroud with a deep groan, reeled backwards, and toppled
overboard, and I heard the heavy splash of his body as he fell.
But we were not even now three to three, but three to one; for the
boatswain had let drive with his frightful belaying-pin at Fish's head,
just as that enormous protuberance had shown itself over the bulwark,
and the wretch lay dead or stunned in the boat alongside; whilst the
steward, who had secreted a huge carving-knife in his bosom, had
stabbed the Dutchman right in the stomach, leaving the knife in him;
and the miserable creature hung over the bulwark, head and arms hanging
down towards the water, and suddenly writhing as he thus hung, dropped
overboard.
Cornish, of all five men alone lived. I had watched him aim a blow at
the boatswain's back, and fired, but missed him. But he too had missed
his aim, and the boatswain, slueing round, struck his wrist with the
belaying-pin--whack! it sounded like the blow of a hammer on wood--and
the knife fell from his hand.
"Mercy! spare my life!" he roared, seeing that I had again covered him,
having two more shots left.
The steward, capable, now that things had gone well with us, of
performing prodigies of valour, rushed upon him, laid hold of his legs,
and pulled him off the bulwark on to the deck.
I thought the fall had broken his back, for he lay groaning and
motionless.
"Don't kill him," I cried. "Make his hands fast and leave him for the
present. We may want him by-and-by."
The boatswain whipped a rope's end round him and shoved him against the
rail, and then came running up the poop ladder, wiping the streaming
perspiration from his face.
The breeze was freshening, and the boat alongside wobbled and splashed
as the ship towed her through the water.
I ran aft and stared into the gloom astern. I could see nothing of the
long-boat. I looked again and again, and fetched the night-glass, and
by its aid, sure enough, I beheld her, a smudge on the even ground of
the gloom, standing away close to the wind, for this much I could tell
by the outline of her sail.
"Miss Robertson!" I cried, "we are saved! Yonder is the long-boat
leaving us. Our lives are our own!"
"I bless God for His mercy," she answered quietly. But then her pent-up
feelings mastered her; she rocked to and fro, grasping the spokes
of the wheel, and I extended my arms just in time to save her from
falling.
"Bo'sun!" I shouted, and he came hurrying to me. "Miss Robertson has
fainted! Reach me a flag out of that locker."
He handed me a signal-flag, and I laid the poor girl gently down upon
the deck with the flag for a pillow under her head.
"Fetch me some brandy, bo'sun. The steward will give you a wine-glass
full."
And with one hand upon the wheel to steady the ship, I knelt by the
girl's side, holding her cold fingers, with so much tenderness and love
for her in my heart, that I could have wept like a woman to see her
lying so pale and still.
The boatswain returned quickly, followed by the steward. I surrendered
the wheel to the former, and taking the brandy, succeeded in
introducing some into her mouth. By dint of this and chafing her hands
and moistening her forehead, I restored her to consciousness. I then,
with my arm supporting her, helped her into the cuddy; but I did not
stay an instant after this, for there was plenty of work to be done on
deck; and though we had escaped one peril, yet here we might be running
headlong into another, for the ship was under full sail; we had but
three men to work her, not counting Cornish, of whose willingness or
capacity to work after his rough handling I as yet knew nothing. The
glass stood low, and if a gale should spring up and catch us as we
were, it was fifty to one if the ship did not go to the bottom.
"Bo'sun," I exclaimed, "what's to be done now?"
"Shorten sail whilst the wind's light, that's sartin," he answered.
"But the first job must be to get Cornish out of his lashin's and set
him on his legs. He must lend us a hand."
"Yes; we'll do that," I replied. "Steward, can you steer?"
"No, sir," responded the steward.
"Oh, damn it!" exclaimed the boatswain. "I'd rather be a guffy than a
steward," meaning by guffy a marine.
"Well," cried I, "you must try."
"But I know nothing about it, sir."
"Come here and lay hold of these spokes. Look at that card--no, by
Jove! you can't see it."
But the binnacle lamp was trimmed, and in a moment the boatswain
had pulled out a lucifer match, dexterously caught the flame in his
hollowed hands and fired the mesh.
"Look at that card," I said, as the boatswain shipped the lamp.
"I'm a lookin', sir."
"Do you see that it points south-east?"
"Yes, sir."
"If those letters S.E. swing to the left of the lubber's point--that
black mark there--pull the spokes to the left until S.E. comes to the
mark again. If S.E. goes to the right, shove the spokes to the right.
Do you understand?"
"Yes, I think I do, sir."
"Mind your eye, steward. Don't let those letters get away from you, or
you'll run the ship into the long-boat, and bring all hands on board
again."
And leaving him holding on to the wheel with the fear, and in the
attitude of a cockney clinging for his life, the boatswain and I walked
to the main-deck.
Cornish lay like a bundle against the rail. When he saw us he cried
out--
"Kill me if you like; but for God's sake loosen this rope first! It's
keepin' my blood all in one place!"
"How do you know we haven't come to drown you?" cried the boatswain in
an awful voice. "Don't jaw us about your blood. You won't want none in
five minutes."
"Then the Lord have mercy upon my soul!" groaned the poor wretch, and
let drop his head which he had lifted out of the scuppers to address us.
"Drownin's too easy for the likes o' you," continued the boatswain.
"You want whippin' and picklin', and then quarterin' arterwards."
"We are willing to spare your life," said I, feeling that we had no
time to waste, "if you will give us your word to help us to work this
ship, and bring her into port if we get no assistance on the road."
"I'll do anything if you'll spare my life," moaned he, "and loose this
rope round my middle."
"Do you think he's to be trusted, Mr. Royle?" said the boatswain, in
a stern voice, playing a part. "There's a bloodthirsty look on his
countinunce, and his eyes are full o' murder."
"Only try me!" groaned Cornish, faintly.
"He wur Stevens' chief mate," continued the boatswain; "an' I think it
'ud be wiser to leave him as he is for a few hours whilst we consider
the adwisability of trustin' of him."
"Then I shall be cut in halves," moaned Cornish.
"Well," I exclaimed, pretending first to reflect, "we will try you; and
if you act honestly by us you shall have no cause to complain. But if
you attempt to play false, we will treat you as you deserve; we will
shoot you as we shot your mates, and pitch your body overboard. So
you'll know what to expect. Bos'un, cast him adrift."
He was speedily liberated, and the boatswain hoisted him on to his
feet, when finding him very shaky, I fetched a glass of rum from the
pantry, which he swallowed.
"Thank you, sir," said he, rubbing his wrist, which the boatswain had
struck during the conflict. "I'll be honest and do what I can. You may
trust me to work for you. This here mutiny belonged to all hands, and
was no one man's, unless it were Stevens'; and I'd rather be here than
in the long-boat."
"Bo'sun," said I, cutting the fellow short, "the carpenter made the
port quarter-boat useless by knocking some planks out of her. We ought
to get the boat alongside in board while the water's smooth--we may
want her."
"Right you are, Mr. Royle," said he. "Pay us out a rope's end, will
you, and I'll drop her under the davits?"
And, active as a cat, he scrambled into the main-chains.
But on a sudden I heard a heavy splash.
"My God!" I cried "he's fallen overboard!" And I was rushing towards
the poop when I heard him sing out, "Hallo! here's another!" and this
was followed by a second splash.
I got on to the bulwarks and bawled to him, "Where are you? What are
you doing? Are you bathing?"
"The deuce a bit," he answered. "It was one o' them blessed mutineers
in the main-chains, and here was another in the boat. I pitched 'em
into the water. Now then, slacken gently, and belay when I sing out."
In a few moments the boat was under the davits and both falls hooked
on. Then up came the boatswain, and the three of us began to hoist,
manning first one fall, and then the other, bit by bit, until the boat
was up; but she was a heavy load, with her freight of provisions and
water--too precious to us to lose--and we panted, I promise you, by the
time she was abreast of the poop rail.
"Mr. Bo'sun," said Cornish, suddenly, "beggin' your pardon--I thought
you was dead."
"Did you, Jim Cornish?"
"I thought you was drownded, sir."
"Well, I ain't the fust drownded man as has come to life agin."
"All hands, Mr. Bo'sun, thought you was overboard, lyin' drownded. You
_was_ overboard?"
"And do you think I'm going to explain?" answered the boatswain,
contemptuously.
"It terrified me to see you, sir."
"Well, perhaps I ain't real arter all. How do you know? Seein' ain't
believin', so old women say."
"I don't believe in ghosts; but I thought you was one, Mr. Bo'sun, and
so did big Johnson when he swore you was one of the three at the port
main-braces."
"Well, I ain't ashamed o' bein' a shadder. Better men nor me have been
shadders. I knew a ship-chandler as wos a churchwarden and worth a mint
o' money, who became a shadder, and kept his wife from marryin' William
Soaper, o' the Coopid public-house Love Lane, Shadwell High Street, by
standin' at the foot of her bed every night at eight bells. He had a
cast in wun eye, Mr. Royle, and that's how his wife knew him."
"Well, I'll say no more--but my hair riz when you turned an' hit me
over the arm. I thought you couldn't be substantial like."
"'Cause you didn't get enough o' my belaying-pin," rejoined the
boatswain, with a loud laugh. "Wait till you turn dusty agin, mate, and
then you'll see wot a real ghost can do."
Just then Miss Robertson emerged from the companion. I ran to her and
entreated her to remain below--though for an hour only.
"No, no," she answered, "let me help you. I am much better--I am quite
well now. I can steer the ship while you take in some of the sails, for
I know there are too many sails set if wind should come."
Then, seeing Cornish, she started and held my arm, whispering, "Who is
he? Have they come on board?"
I briefly explained, and then renewed my entreaties that she should
remain in her cabin; but she said she would not leave the deck, even if
I refused her permission to steer, and pleaded so eloquently, holding
my arm and raising her sweet eyes to my face, that I reluctantly gave
way.
She hastened eagerly to take the steward's place, and I never saw any
man resign a responsible position more willingly than he.
I now explained to the boatswain that the glass stood very low, and
that we must at once turn to and get in all the sail we could hand.
I asked Cornish if he thought he was able to go aloft, and on his
answering in the affirmative, first testing the strength of his wrist
by hanging with his whole weight to one of the rattlins on the mizzen
rigging, we went to work to clew up the three royals.
I knew that the steward was of no use aloft, and never even asked him
if he would venture his hand at it, for I was pretty sure he would lose
his head and tumble overboard before he had mounted twenty feet, and
he was too useful to us to lose right off in that way.
Cornish went up to stow the mizzen-royal, and the boatswain and I went
aloft to the main-royal. The breeze was still very gentle and the ship
slipping smoothly through the black space of sea; but when we were on
the main-royal yard I called the attention of the boatswain to the
appearance of the sky in the north-west, for it was lightning faintly
in that direction, and the pale illumination sufficed to expose a huge
bank of cloud stretching far to the north.
"We shall be able to get the top-gallant sails off her," he said, "and
the jibs and staysails. But I don't know how we're going to furl the
mainsail, and it'll take us all night to reef the topsails."
"We must work all night," I answered, "and do what we can. Just tell
me, whilst I pass this gasket, how you managed in the hold."
"Why," he answered, "you know I took a kind o' crow-bar down with me,
and I reckoned on splittin' open the head of the fust chap as should
drop through the forescuttle. But turnin' it over in my mind, I thought
it 'ud be dangerous to kill the feller, as his mates might take it into
their heads to wait for him. And so I determined to hide myself when I
heerd the cove comin', and stand by to plug up the holes arter he wur
gone."
Here he discharged some tobacco-juice from his mouth, and dried his
lips on the sail.
"Werry well; I had my knife with me an' a box o' matches, and werry
useful they wos. I made a bit of a flare by combing out a strand of
yarns and settin' fire to it, and found wot was more pleasin' to my eye
than had I come across a five-pun note--I mean a spare broom-stick,
which I found knockin' about in the coal-hole; and I cut it into
pieces and pointed 'em ready to sarve. I knew who ever 'ud come, would
use an auger, and know'd the size hole it 'ud cut; and by-and-by, but
the Lord knows how long it were afore it happened, I hears some one
drop down the forescuttle and strike a match and light a bit o' candle
end. I got behind the bulkhead, where there was a plank out, and I see
the carpenter wurking away with his auger, blowin' and sweatin' like
any respectable hartizan earnin' of honest wages. By-and-by the water
comes rushin' in; and then he bores another hole and the water comes
through that; and then he bores another hole, arter which he blows out
his candle and goes away, scramblin' up on deck. My fingers quivered to
give him one for hisself with the end o' my crow-bar over the back of
his head. However, no sooner did he clear out than I struck a match,
fits in the bits of broom-stick, and stops the leaks as neatly as he
made 'em. I thought they'd hear me drivin' of them plugs in, and that
was all I was afraid of. But the ship's none the worse for them holes.
She's as tight as ever she wos: an' I reckon' if she gets no more water
in her than 'll come through them plugs, she won't be in a hurry to
sink."
I laughed, and we shook hands heartily.
I often think over that: the immense height we looked down from; the
mystical extent of black water mingling with the far-off sky; the faint
play of lightning on the horizon; the dark hull of the ship far below,
with the dim radiance of the cuddy lamps upon the skylights; the brave,
sweet girl steering us, and we two perched on a dizzy eminence, shaking
hands!