"On their own heads be it. This may act as a warning to them. But
there must be no hesitation; our lives and that of Miss Denning depend
upon swift action. At the first stroke of an axe, fire again."
"I will," said Mr Preddle firmly; and by the light of the lantern I saw
that the chambers of his revolver were exposed, and that he was
thrusting in a fresh cartridge.
"Ought we to send down Mr Frewen?" said Mr Denning just then.
"Don't ask absurd questions, sir," replied Mr Brymer angrily. "Come,
Frewen. Now, my lad."
He turned away, and before following, Barney Blane got beside me, to say
in my ear--
"Disappynted again, sir. I did think I was to have a go at Frenchy
now."
He hurried off; and the shrieking of the wind ceased for a few moments,
during which we strained our ears to try and make out what went on
below, when very faintly, but the word distinctly heard, came the cry--
"Help!"
"There is some one forward there by the bowsprit!" I cried excitedly;
and leaving my companions, I crept to the bows, and, holding on tightly,
climbed up and looked over, seeing nothing but the foaming water churned
up by the ship as she plunged on and on, looking as if she were moment
by moment going to split upon what might have been one huge black rock
right ahead.
I changed my position, and got to the other side of the bowsprit to hold
on and look over there, but still I could see nothing, and though I
shouted again and again there was no reply.
"Nobody could possibly be hanging on there," I thought, as I tried to
pierce the mist of spray; and I felt that if low down on the stays, he
would be dipped at every plunge, and drowned in a few minutes, and if
higher, to a certainty, unless lashed to the ropes, be washed off.
I stayed some minutes, hailing again and again, with my voice carried
forward by the wind, and then made my way back to my two companions,
whose faces were turned inquiringly toward me as I shook my head.
"There can't be any one there," I said. "It's impossible."
"So Mr Brymer thought," said Mr Preddle. "He said he would be either
washed off or drowned, and that it must be one of the men below."
"There it is again," said Mr Denning; "and it is below."
"Yes; there!" I cried, for there was a heavy banging at a bulk-head,
and some one shouted savagely to whoever cried for help to be quiet, and
then a shot was fired, but not at us.
"The wretches!" I said.
"The wretch!" said Mr Denning. "That was Jarette's voice, I'm sure;
and he must have fired."
"At some prisoner they have there below," I said.
"Or at the wounded man," cried Mr Preddle.
"It must be another wounded man then, for you heard the sound before you
fired that shot."
"Yes; and it makes me feel better satisfied, for the mutineers are such
brutes--such savage brutes."
"There!" I cried; "do you hear?" for once more the cry for help came so
piteous, faint, and despairing that it seemed to go through me from head
to heel in one long, continuous shudder.
"If it hadn't been for what we heard just now," said Mr Preddle just
then, "I should have been ready to think it was something uncanny--
something ghostly; but," he added hastily, as Mr Denning turned a
mocking face to him, "I don't think so now."
"It's very horrid," I said; "and the worst of it is that one can't do
anything. I wish we could send Mr Frewen to help the poor fellow,
whoever it is."
"Yes, it is horrible," said Mr Denning; "but they made us suffer so
that I feel hardened against them. It must be a wounded man."
"Why," I cried, as a flash of mental light just then illumined my thick
brain, "I know!"
I was so excited by my discovery, which was one of those simple finds
that the wonder was it had not been thought of at once, I could hardly
contain myself, and I made for a swinging lantern and took it down.
"What is it? What have you found out?" cried Mr Denning at the top of
his voice, though it only sounded feeble then in the din of the storm.
"It's some one in the cable-tier," I cried.
"Cable-tier? Where's that?"
"Just forward. Front of the forksle," I shouted. "We must get the
hatch off."
"No, no; not till Mr Brymer comes," said Mr Denning.
The words sounded so wise that I hesitated with the lantern in my hand,
and for a moment or two I thought of running off to report my discovery;
but I recalled the fact that I was on a perilous duty, and that I had no
right to leave my post without orders; so I re-hung the lantern, and
then, after listening and convincing myself that there was no
threatening sound coming from below, I shouted to my companions what I
was going to do, and then staggered forward to the carefully battened
down hatch, beneath which the great rusty chain cable was lying in a
heap.
I listened, and my heart sank with disappointment, for the wind was
shrieking as fiercely as ever, and I could not hear a sound.
"Am I mistaken after all?" I thought, and listened still.
Just then, with a heavy thud, as the ship plunged downward, a wave
struck the port-bow, rose in a perfect cataract, and curling over,
deluged me and rushed along the deck.
I should have been swept away, but the combings of the hatch sheltered
me a little, and as the hissing splash of the water ceased, I fancied I
heard a faint clink of one of the links of the great chain below, while
the moment after came more plainly than I had heard it before a
smothered, piteous cry--
"Help!"