"Come on!" whispered Mark; "we must stop that game. Who's on the watch
at the hatch?"
"Sam Grote, sir; but, poor lad, he can't keep awake."
"A lantern," said Mark, laconically; and Tom Fillot trotted aft to the
cabin, and came back in five minutes with a light half hidden in his
breast.
During his absence, Mark had stood there listening in the darkness with
a peculiar shuddering sensation to the soft clinking as link passed over
link; and in imagination, while he peered through the transparent
darkness, he saw a hand, which had been thrust out after the hatch had
been raised a little, softly lifting and passing the cable off to the
deck.
Tom came back so silently that Mark was half startled. Then together
they went on tiptoe in the direction of the sound, the lantern being
carefully screened, and then only just a ray of light allowed to shine
out forward.
It fell upon the figure of the sailor Grote in a very peculiar attitude;
for the poor fellow, unable to keep awake, had knelt close by the hatch,
with his drawn cutlass point downward, resting on the cover, his two
hands upon the hilt, and his forehead upon his hands--fast asleep.
It was a dire offence against discipline, and a hot feeling of
indignation swelled in Mark's breast against the man.
But it died out as quickly as it had come. The man had done his best to
guard against the cover of the hatch being moved, feeling certain that
any attempt to stir it must be communicated to his brain by the cutlass;
and so no doubt it would have been later on. He was fast asleep, but
for the last two nights he had hardly closed his eyes, though utterly
worn out by the day's exertion, while still suffering from his injuries.
Greater reason still why Mark could not sit in judgment upon his man; he
himself had been utterly unable to keep awake.
These thoughts passed as the ray of light was shifted by Tom Fillot's
manipulation of the lantern, which shone directly after upon the clean
white planks, with their black, well-caulked seams. Then, very slowly
and cautiously, Tom Fillot guided the little patch of light along the
boards till it fell upon a big heap of rusty chain between them and the
hatch, showing how long and patiently someone must have been at work,
and also the terrible fact that before long every link would have been
removed, and in all probability the crew would have been taken by
surprise.
For now, as Tom still guided on the little patch of light, it fell upon
a red hand visible as far as the wrist. This had been thrust out beside
the edge of the cover after a portion had been hacked away with a knife,
and the fingers, rust covered and strange looking, were working away,
industriously easing down link after link on to the deck, their weight
helping the worker, while the heap on the hatch was steadily, as it
were, melting away.
They stood watching this for a few moments, and then steadying the
lantern with one hand, Tom slowly raised his cutlass with the other. A
slight alteration of the rays of light must have flashed in the signal
_Danger_! to the man at work, for the strange dull clinking of the links
finished suddenly with one louder clink than the rest. The chain had
been dropped as the hand darted in.
Grote started back into wakefulness at the sound and sprang to his feet,
on guard with his cutlass, while Tom Fillot fully uncovered the lantern,
and held it up right in the man's face, the light gleaming on the
weapons they held.
"Yes, you're a nice 'un, you are," growled Tom Fillot, "Look at that.
Where should we have been in another hour if we'd trusted to you?"
The man stared at the two heaps of chain, then at Tom Fillot, and then
at his young officer, as he uttered a low groan.
"I've done it now, sir," he faltered, in his deep bass. "I did try so
hard, sir; oh, so hard, but it come over me like all of a sudden, and
walking up and down warn't no good. I was asleep as I walked, and at
last I thought if I shut my eyes a moment--"
_Bang_!
A sharp flash and a report made all three start back, and spread the
alarm, one of the first to run up being the great black, bar in hand,
his eyes flashing, his teeth gleaming, and all eager to join in any fray
on behalf of those who had saved his life.
"Wish my cutlash had come down heavy on the hand as fired that shot,"
muttered Tom Fillot.
"Put out the light," said Mark sharply.
Tom Fillot drew his jacket over the lantern, and they all stood round
ready for the next order.
"Haul back the chain," said Mark, in a low voice. "Fillot, stand by,
ready to cut at the first hand which thrusts out a pistol." Then going
close to the ventilator, he shouted down, "Below there you heard my
orders. We shall show no mercy now."
A shout of defiance came up, followed by another shot, as the chain
began to clink and chink while being hauled back and piled round and
round from the edge toward the centre.
"Stop!" cried Mark, as a thought struck him. Then in a whisper, "I'll
have an anchor laid on instead of the cable, and then I'll have that run
back into the tier. No: better still. Get up the biggest water cask we
have."
"Ay, ay, sir," cried Tom; and, with all the alacrity of man-o'-war's
men, he and his fellows went off with the lantern, and before long had a
cask on deck and rolled it up to the hatchway.
"But what for I dunno," muttered Tom, "unless it's for a sentry box."
He soon learned.
"Buckets," said Mark, laconically; and as soon as these were obtained,
though in full expectation of shots being fired through the wooden cover
at them, he gave his orders and the chain was rapidly hauled to the
deck.
But no shot was fired from below, the Americans evidently expecting that
they would be attacked, and reserving their fire for the moment when the
chain was all off, and the hatch thrown open.
But as the last link fell off upon the deck two men who were standing
ready lifted and banged the empty cask down heavily upon the hatch, a
couple of buckets of water were splashed in directly, and then as
rapidly as they could be drawn from over the side, others followed and
were poured in.
Those below were so puzzled that for a time they remained utterly
without movement. Then as the water poured in there was a low
whispering, and soon after a heaving up of the hatch a little way, but a
man held on to the top of the cask on either side, and their weight
proved to be too much for those who tried to heave up the hatch. Ten
minutes after, the addition of many buckets of water turned the cask
into a ponderous object beyond their strength.
"Right to the brim," said Mark; and the cask was filled.
"There," cried Tom; "it would puzzle them to move that."
The men below evidently thought so too, for they made no further effort,
and subsided into a sulky kind of silence, while the chain was run back
into the cable tier, and the watch resumed without fresh alarm till
morning.