"Once more, stop that or I fire!"
A shout of derision came from within.
"I warn you again!" roared Mr Brymer. "I fired before without trying
to hit you, now I shall aim straight. Stop that this moment!"
"Fire away! Ready below, lads, I'll have it off--"
The report of the revolver, a hoarse, half-stifled cry from within, and
then a yell of rage arose, to mingle with the shrieking of the wind.
"I was obliged to fire, Mr Frewen," said the mate, sharply, "for at any
cost we will keep the upper hand now."
No one spoke, and I could not help shivering as I saw the stern looks of
the men by me, even Mr Preddle's round smooth face looking fierce and
determined.
Mr Frewen was the first to open his lips.
"It is a bitter necessity," he said; "those men must be kept down, but I
am obliged to speak now. Brymer, I am a surgeon, and there are at least
two wounded men there below, perhaps more. It is necessary for me to go
down."
"It is impossible, Mr Frewen. If I give orders for that hatch to be
opened, there will be a rush, and even if we remain masters and beat
them down, it can only be at the cost of wounding more, perhaps causing
death."
"Why not make a truce with them?"
"With the men it would be easy enough, but not with their leader, a
scoundrel who feels that he is fighting with penal servitude before him,
perhaps the halter! But, Mr Frewen, these are no times for being
humane. No; that hatch shall not be opened."
"But I will stand ready, after telling the men what I am going to do,
and if they will keep away while the hatch is open there can be no
rush."
"I think differently, sir," said Mr Brymer, coldly.
"I agree with Mr Brymer, sir," said Mr Denning, "that it would be
madness."
"But you agree with me, Mr Preddle?" cried the doctor, excitedly.
"No, I don't, Mr Frewen," came in Mr Preddle's high-pitched voice. "I
don't like men to suffer, but I won't give my vote for you to go down
into that wild beasts' cage."
Mr Frewen laughed bitterly, and turned to me.
"What do you say, fellow-prisoner?" he cried.
"I shall vote against Mr Frewen being allowed to go down," I said
sturdily. "We want your help more than they do."
"Bravo! my lad," cried Mr Brymer.
"Well, yes; bravo! then," said the doctor, sadly. "I am beaten; I give
in."
"Thank you, Frewen," cried Mr Brymer, holding out his hand, which the
doctor took frankly. "I am sorry to go against you, but you are too
valuable to us here. I am sure that if I let you go down, they would
not let you come up gain. Jarette is fox enough to know how your
absence would weaken us, and then there is the captain; I place his life
as of more value than that of a mutinous crew."
"I'm convinced," said Mr Frewen. "My desire was to stay, but as a
surgeon I couldn't stand still, knowing that my help was wanted down
there."
"You doctors are so greedy," cried Mr Preddle. "You have two patients
as it is, and if we're going, on like this I'm afraid you'll soon have
some more."
"Yes," said the doctor, turning to Mr Denning, "I shall have another
one. Forgive me for speaking, Mr Denning, but I think you ought to go
back to your cabin now and remove your wet things."
"You mean well, sir," said Mr Denning, courteously, "but I am wanted
here."
"Not now, sir," said the mate. "I think we can manage, and if you would
hold yourself in readiness to turn out if we raise an alarm that would
be enough."
"I am here, and I have faced so much of the storm and trouble that I
will see it through now."
No one attempted to argue with him, and the watch was resumed, with the
ship tearing through the water before the storm, for short-handed as we
were, Mr Brymer shrank from attempting to alter her course, or riding
head to wind.
From time to time there was a stir below, and voices rose angrily, but
we could always hear Jarette's shrill utterances, and he generally
seemed to calm the men down, or to master them, with the result that the
angry sounds ceased and gave place to a low murmuring as if some plan
were being discussed. After this had been going on some time, on one
occasion Mr Brymer, who had been aft at the wheel with Bob Hampton and
had returned in time to hear the talking, shook his head and said to Mr
Frewen--
"That sounds bad. They're hatching a new plot against us. It is like
having your ship on fire somewhere amongst the cargo in a place where
you cannot reach. It goes on smouldering day after day, and you are in
the full expectation of its breaking out. You don't know when, but you
are sure that it must come before long."
"I was thinking something of the kind," replied the doctor.
And so was I, though I did not speak. And in addition, I had an idea in
my head that I could not work out, and while I was trying I had another
idea. The first one was, that if by any means we could catch Jarette,
the mutiny would all fall to pieces; but then the job was to catch the
rascal, and that puzzled me.
It was very close to daylight; and cold, low-spirited, and miserable, I
was beginning to think that between the storm and the men below, the
poor old Burgh Castle must come to grief, when Bob Hampton came up
glistening in his oilskins.
"I were to come and say as the lady's got jorums o' hot coffee ready,
sir, in the captain's cabin. Mr Denning and Mr Dale's to go first,
and I'm to take the watch till they comes back."
I saw Mr Denning wince and dart a sharp look at the doctor, but the
latter did not turn his head, and once more we began fighting our way
back, with the ship seeming at times quite to dance on the tops of the
waves.
But we reached the shelter in safety, and as soon as we were under cover
I felt sure that the wind was not so fierce, and said so.
"I could not tell any difference," said Mr Denning, sadly, as we went
right aft, to find the captain's cabin, right in the stern--the one
through whose window I had climbed after my hazardous descent from the
rigging--looking bright and cheerful, and hot coffee waiting for us, in
company with sweet smiles and cheering words.
It was wonderful. One minute I had been ready to give up and think that
all was over; the next, as the hot drink sent a glow through me, I was
ready to smile back at Miss Denning, and join her in persuading her
brother to go to his cabin and change; while the very next minute Mr
Brymer came down with a large bottle, and after hastily swallowing a cup
of the coffee, he begged for a bottleful to carry up to the men at the
wheel.
"Is the storm still so bad, Mr Brymer?" asked Miss Denning, as the mate
was about to hurry back on deck.
"No," he said emphatically. "It's one of those gales which blow in a
circle, and we're passing through it. The glass is rising, and in less
than an hour I think it will begin to lull." This was joyful news, and
I rose to hurry back so as to take the place of Mr Preddle.
"You'll stay now, John," I heard Miss Denning say, and he answered her
quite passionately.
"Don't tempt me, Lena!" he cried. "I want to stay, but I want also to--
there, I will act like a man."
I did not then understand him as I did afterwards, what a strange
jealous hatred and dislike there was burning within him as he caught my
arm, and held it tightly.
"Help me quickly!" he whispered. "Take me back before my weakness
masters me, and I break down."
"But if you are so weak?" I said anxiously. "Take me forward!" he
whispered angrily. "You cannot understand."
I saw Miss Denning looking wonderingly at her brother as we went out,
and again fought our way back to the forecastle-hatch, no easy task with
the ship heeling over, and the spray flying as it did; but I felt
hardened to it now, and the darkness did not appear so terrible, nor the
danger so great, with the warm glow I felt spreading through me. Then I
looked at my companion quite wonderingly, as I could just see his pale
thin face, for he said quickly in a lull of the wind--
"I think I've conquered, Dale."
"Conquered? It's wonderful how brave you have been."
I saw him smile, and then wondered afresh that I could have seen the
change in his face. "Why, it's getting light!" I said joyfully.
I was quite right, and as we were in the tropics the change was coming
rapidly. But just then we reached the watch, and to my surprise Mr
Denning said as well as the rushing wind would let him--
"Mr Frewen, Mr Preddle, my sister has hot coffee ready, and will be
glad if you can go at once."
I saw Mr Frewen give quite a start, and Mr Preddle regularly jumped,
but they were both so surprised that they could neither of them speak,
while Mr Denning turned to Bob Hampton.
"Your turn must be when they come back," he said.
"Oh, all right, sir, I can wait," growled Bob--I mean roared--for though
there was a momentary cessation in the shrieking of the wind, he spoke
as if Mr Denning were by the wheel; and there was no doubt now--we
could not see it, nor were we likely to, through the mist and spray, but
the sun was rising, and ten minutes after I was gazing at the sea, which
was churned up into one chaos of foam.
"It's all over!" yelled Bob, a minute or two later.
"What's all over?" I asked.
"The hurry-cane, sir. We're most through it, and the wind's beginning
to drop."
"But it's blowing terribly," I cried.
"Ay, sir, it is; but 'nour ago it was blowing ten times as terrible.
Why, there was a time when it most shaved my head, and another time when
I put my hands up to feel if my ears was cut off. Strikes me as they
would ha' gone if they hadn't been tied down with the flaps of this here
sou'-wester."
"Yes, it's getting lighter fast," cried Mr Denning. "But how rough the
sea is!"
"Ay, sir, she be a bit tossy like," said Bob; "but this here's nothing
to what it is on a rocky coast. Ah, that's bad if you like."
"But we've had an awful night, Bob."
"Tidy, sir, tidy. Not so bad as it might ha' been."
"Oh, it couldn't have been worse!" I cried.
"What? Not been worse, sir? Why, where's your mainmas' gone by the
board, and your fore-mast cut off at the top-mast-head, and your mizzen
splintered into matchwood? Why, my lad, this arn't been nothing. And
look yonder, there's the sun a-coming out, leastwise it's making the
clouds look red-like. We're coming out of it well. Why, you ought to
be proud, Mr Dale, o' belonging to such a ship as the Burgh Castle.
She's a clipper, if ever there was one built."
"I am proud of her, Bob," I said, "but I'm not proud of her crew."
"Well, no, sir," said Bob, rubbing his red nose, which looked wet and
shiny now; "they arn't turned out a werry good lot, but then arter all
they might ha' been worse. You see it's just like having so much soup
as the cook's made for you, and all as good as can be, till the cook's
mate tilts the lamp aside by a-hitting it with his head, and a drop o'
hyle goes into the soup. That one drop o' train-hyle spyles all the
pot. See what I mean?"
"That Jarette is the drop of oil?"
"That's it, sir, and a werry, werry rancid drop he be."
Mr Denning laughed, and I saw him turn his back to the direction in
which Mr Frewen had gone.
"_Tlat_!" went Bob Hampton's lips in a loud smack. "Glad when they
gents come back, for I want some o' your young lady's hot coffee, bless
her! to take the taste o' the hyle out o' my mouth."
"You shall have it soon, Hampton, my good brave fellow," cried Mr
Denning, and I saw the weak tears in his eyes, "and you tell my sister
that she is to find my little silver flask, and give you some brandy in
your coffee."
"Thankye, sir, thankye, that's very good of you. Why, Mr Dale, sir,
you talk of our having a bad night. Tchah!--nothing, lad, nothing. How
could it be a werry bad 'un when you have the luck to be shipped aboard
a craft with a angel aboard? A angel, that's what I says, and Neb
Dumlow and Barney says the same. We all said it arter the mutiny had
begun, and that if we didn't get the best of old Frenchy somehow we'd
eat our heads.--Lie down, will yer?" he roared, as he gave the side of
the hatch so fierce a kick that I thought his heavy boot would have gone
through.
There was a heavy rustling sound, and the grumbling of voices plainly
heard now, for the wind was rapidly falling.
"That was French Jarette a-listening, sir, for a penny-piece," whispered
Bob, for it was growing possible to whisper now. "Strikes me we arn't
done with him yet, and if I might adwise, I should say as Mr Frewen
ought to be sent down below with some of his doctor's stuff to pyson
that chap like you would a rat, for there'll never be no peace while
he's aboard. Hah!" he continued, smacking his lips. "There's your
sort; here's Mr Preddle coming back with his face shining and smelling
o' hot coffee like a flower-garding."
Mr Denning turned round sharply, but checked himself as he saw that Mr
Frewen was coming too.
"Looks like my turn now."
"Miss Denning is waiting to give you some coffee, Mr Hampton," said the
naturalist.
"Thankye for the mister, sir, and thank her for the coffee," said Bob,
smiling, and he straddled off, the sloping of the deck as the ship rose
and fell and heeled over being apparently of no consequence to him.