HOW THE SHIP BROACHED TO.
At the time of this outbreak the _Hermione_ was, as we have stated,
somewhere about 100 miles off the mouth of Algoa Bay, and not, as
Pedro had calculated, near the entrance of the Mozambique Channel.
Hurried, actually thrust into the cabin by the hands of Morley
Ashton, Dr. Heriot, and others, Ethel and Rose Basset's terror and
astonishment may be imagined; and greatly were these emotions
increased by the sounds they heard on deck--the sudden uproar, the
stamping of feet, as of men engaged in a deadly struggle, the oaths,
imprecations, and occasional discharge of pistols.
If Captain Phillips and his friends were disagreeably surprised to
find that the crew possessed some four or five old ship pistols,
which they had hitherto kept secretly in their sea-chests, they, on
the other hand, were much more disappointed on discovering that the
officers and passengers were fully prepared for them--alike
forewarned and forearmed; and the sudden appearance of their pistols
and revolvers, as shot after shot flashed from them in the clear
tropical moonlight, baffled the first rush aft of Pedro and his
brother, for most of the crew, following Hawkshaw's prudent example,
suddenly retreated to the forecastle, their own peculiar region and
quarters.
A ball from Pedro's pistol found a harmless victim, for he shot dead
poor Joe the steward. But at the same moment a ball from Heriot's
revolver grazed the assassin's left ear, tearing a ring out of it,
and as he rushed back with a bewildered air, at first believing
himself to be shot through the head, Morrison followed him past the
long-boat, showering, with a capstan-bar, such blows upon him as
would have prostrated any other man than Barradas, who turned twice
upon his pursuer, to whom he opposed in vain his clubbed pistol and
the blade of his Albacete knife.
Poor Mr. Foster, who, as related, had taken the wheel from Morrison,
was now assailed by Badger, the long Yankee, who had gathered himself
up from the deck, where he had lain sprawling.
"Villain!" exclaimed Foster, as he clung to the spokes of the wheel,
which he dared not relinquish lest the ship should bring to by the
lee, and as he glanced the while with irrepressible agitation at the
upheld knife of the wretch who had grasped his collar, and held it at
the full length of his long, lean, muscular left arm. "Villain,
would you lift your knife to me?"
"Ah, you 'tarnal Britisher, I would choke you like a weasel," hissed
the Yankee through his yellow teeth.
"Do be quiet, Badger," urged Foster, as he thought of his poor wife
and little ones asleep in their beds at home. "Have you no pity--no
fear?"
"Nayther, I reckon," snivelled the Yankee.
"No conscience?" asked Foster, as he felt the grasp tightening on his
collar.
"Conscience be d----! as we say in Californy. I left my blessed
conscience at Cape Horn long ago. Do you understand that?" said
Badger, ferociously.
Down came the threatening knife, flashing in the moonshine. Foster
quitted the wheel and leaped aside, leaving the collar of his jacket
in Badger's hand; but the point of the blade gave him a severe slash
on the right shoulder.
Filled with rage and fear, the second mate broke away, and plunged
down the companion-stair into the steerage in search of a loaded
weapon. Tom Bartelot and Mr. Basset followed him, on the same
errand, and the crew, believing that a fight had begun, once more
made a furious rush aft, and thus, being now minus five of their
number, the captain, with Morley, Heriot, and Noah Gawthrop, found
themselves driven, under a shower of blows and missiles, past the
break of the quarter-deck, and, ultimately, down below, where they
all fell in a heap upon Mr. Quail, who had turned out, half dressed,
on hearing the row on deck.
The last to effect a retreat was Morrison, who had emptied the six
barrels of his revolver without hitting anyone, but having a
capstan-bar, a weapon to which he was more accustomed, he gave way,
step by step, with his face to the foe; but ultimately he was beaten
down the companion-stair, covered with blood, which flowed from a
wound on his right temple.
Fighting inch by inch, there is little doubt that, at this crisis,
the crew might have forced an entrance to the cabin, especially if
some had entered by the skylight; but now a yell burst from them,
followed by a tremendous crash, and the sound as of a vast ruin
descending on the deck.
On Foster abandoning the helm, the ship, which had been running with
a spanking breeze upon her starboard quarter, broached to; by
swinging round, all her sails were taken aback upon the weather-side,
the sudden strain was more than her spars could bear, and the fall of
a maintopmast, which had been sprung (_i.e._, split) in a recent
gale, brought down the fore and mizzen, with all their yards and
hamper, clean off at the cap of each; and thus, in a moment the
beautiful _Hermione_ was a scene of as great a ruin and disorder
aloft as she was below.
The wilderness of masts, yards, booms, sails, blocks, and gearing
that suddenly descended on their heads somewhat cooled the ardour of
the crew, and severely injured two or three of them; but Pedro, a
thorough seaman, gave instant orders to cut, clear away, and coil up,
while, rushing to the wheel, his powerful hands soon made it revolve;
the _Hermione's_ head fell round, once more the wind came on her
quarter, her fore and main courses, jib, and driver swelled out
before it, and she stood on, but slowly, crippled and shorn of all
her fair proportions.
This unexpected misfortune to the mutineers gave those whom they had
for a time vanquished and driven below time to gather their energies,
to reload their weapons, consider their position and resources, and
to put in requisition those plans originally formed for the defence
of the cabin, their stronghold, and chiefly of the two Misses Basset.
The huge trunk, filled with Mr. Basset's law books (which fortunately
came too late on board to be shot with other lumber into the hold)
was slued round, and jammed across the cabin-door, which was further
secured by its usual bolts and fastenings.
Heriot's pair of pistols, two revolvers, a double-barrelled
fowling-piece, and a sharp hatchet, were their only weapons, but they
had plenty of ammunition, all made up in cartridges, and so they
resolved to expend it to some purpose.
"My ship! my ship! my poor ship! everything seems to have gone to the
devil aloft," groaned Captain Phillips, in an agony of rage and
mortification.
"Oh, papa--dear papa--what has happened? What means that dreadful
noise on deck?" asked Ethel and Rose together, as they clung to their
bewildered parent, and saw with alarm their companions' blanched,
flushed, and, in some instances, blood-stained faces. Dr. Heriot and
Morley Ashton were both bleeding; the former from a scalp wound, and
the latter from a cut in the lip. "Oh, papa! tell us what all this
means?"
"It means that those infernal villains have risen to murder us all,
ladies; but don't be alarmed for all that," said Captain Phillips, as
he reloaded his revolver, while a horrible hurly-burly was heard on
deck, where the crew, under the orders of Barradas the elder, were
cutting away or securing so much of the rigging and spars as might be
useful to them, even to bringing on board the jib-boom, which had
been snapped off at the cap, and hung in the guys at the end of the
whiskers, with the sail drooping in the water; and all the while they
worked amid a storm of oaths, imprecations, and threats.
Among other things cast adrift was the body of poor Joe, whose
pockets were soon investigated--his pipe, knife, tobacco-box, and a
few coppers appropriated by Messrs. Sharkey and Bolter--after which
they cast him over to leeward with as much indifference as if he had
been a dead gull or bit of "old horse" (_i.e._, mouldy junk).
Meanwhile, overcome with horror and anxiety for the probable future
of his two daughters, poor Mr. Basset was completely bewildered, and,
for a time, as Captain Phillips said, "had no more pith in him than
an empty sack." Reclined on the stern-locker, he pressed his
daughters to his breast, keeping, as if for protection, an arm round
each, and he exclaimed more than once:
"Oh God! most merciful of all who show mercy, protect my poor girls."
"He has committed their protection to you, sir," said Tom Bartelot,
rather impatiently; "only show a little pluck, like the rest of us,
and we shall weather these villains yet--aye, work them to an oil, if
they don't fire or sink the ship."
"Oh, what new--what sudden horror is this?" exclaimed Ethel, wringing
her hands, and then clasping them over her temples, while she turned
her flashing eyes on each in succession.
"No sudden 'orror at all, marm," said Noah Gawthrop, as he tightened
his waist-belt, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and looked
everywhere about to spit, but, being in the cabin, restrained the
impulse; "we've known o' the rig they were goin' to run this long
time past."
"And Hawkshaw?" asked Ethel, shuddering.
"Is a leader among them," replied Morley, applying a handkerchief to
his bleeding lip. "I never had a better opportunity for clearing off
old scores than to-night, but somehow he never----"
"Oh, Morley, dear! leave vengeance to other hands," said Ethel,
imploringly. "Dear, dear papa," she added, laying her pale brow on
Mr. Basset's cheek, "and so it was this knowledge--this horrible
dread hanging over you--that has given such a mournful tenderness to
your voice and manner for some time past."
Her voice, so mellow and thrilling, pierced poor Basset's heart: he
could only answer by his tears.
"Oh, Morley, love!" said Ethel, in a low, beseeching voice, "say
something to comfort poor papa."
But Morley could only press Mr. Basset's hand in silence, for, in
fact, the poor fellow knew not what to say. Rose had tied her little
handkerchief round the doctor's head, and it seemed a more agreeable
remedy than the piece of court-plaster he had hastily stuck on his
scar.
To Ethel the watchful, mysterious, solicitous, and almost sorrowful
regard which her father had so long exhibited towards herself and
Rose was quite accounted for now.
"Oh, my poor papa--my own papa!" she exclaimed, as she threw her arms
round his neck, and nestled with her lovely face close to his, "I
have no fear of death; I would face it courageously--but you, and
Rose, and Morley. Oh, I fear that the blow which kills me may kill
you all, too, you love me so much--so much more than I have deserved,
dear papa!"
"Alas, Ethel! it is not death only that I fear for you, my sweet and
innocent lamb--and Rose----"
"Below there, ahoy!" hailed a hoarse voice down the companion-stair,
after the hurly-burly had somewhat ceased on deck.
"It is the voice of that villain, Sharkey," said Quail.
"The murderer of poor Manfredi," added Dr. Heriot.
"Below there, you swabs and cork-suckers! have you all gone to
sleep?" hailed the squat mutineer.
"Hollo!" responded Noah, "what do you want, gallows-bird?"
"We want the two girls. Give them up, and come on deck. Tumble up,
or it will be the worse for every man jack of you."
"How so, you squab ragamuffin?" asked Captain Phillips.
"We'll drop down the skylight, and make precious short work with you
all," was the hoarse response.
"Come on then, one at a time, or all together--we are ready for you,"
said Captain Phillips.
At the same moment the cover of the skylight was roughly wrenched
off, and the chill night wind poured through the cabin, extinguishing
the lamp.
A noisy and derisive cheer followed.
"Silence fore and aft. _Por vida del demonio guardad vuestra maldita
garulla_ (_i.e._, "Hold your cursed clack"). Ere long I shall let
you know who is captain of the ship now," cried a deep bass voice
there was no mistaking, and the dark visage of Pedro Barradas was
seen looking down, just as Heriot led Ethel and Rose to their cabin,
when he whispered to them to take courage, and closed the door.
"Surrender, and give up your arms, or I shall set fire to the ship,"
added Barradas.
"What will you gain by doing so?" asked Captain Phillips, feeling
with his fingers if the caps on his revolver were all right, and
taking a full sight at Pedro's head, which he could see above the rim
of the skylight.
"Gain? Not much, certainly, unless it be vengeance," replied the
Mexican, hoarsely.
"Vengeance, you miscreant? Of what can you, accuse me? Surely I
never wronged you."
"I have nearly lost an ear by the hand of one among you."
"That infliction you brought upon yourself."
"If you do not surrender in less than twenty minutes, I shall fire
the ship or scuttle her, and then shove off with all the boats,
leaving you to drown like a rat in a trap," continued Pedro.
"Fool, as well as villain, what purpose would that serve, but to
destroy you all? Do you know how far we are from land?" asked the
captain.
"I know that we are off the mouth of the Mozambique, and will soon
make the land by steering nor'-nor'-east," replied the mutineer, with
a grin.
"You are wrong, Pedro Barradas--by Heaven you are! We are only off
the Bay of Algoa."
"Well, if this wind holds good, and we keep the ship under her
courses and lower studding-sails, we will make the channel soon
enough for our purpose. But ha, ha! Senor Capitano, do you hear
that?" he added, as the sound of axes was heard; "we are starting the
main-hatch to get at the bread and spirit room, so while you starve
here, we shall drink and be jolly."
Captain Phillips groaned as he heard those sounds, which indicated a
further destruction of the ship; but, taking a sure aim at Pedro, he
fired! The red flash and sharp report of the pistol were followed by
a yell of rage.
"A miss is as good as a mile," cried Badger, the Yankee; and Pedro,
whose cheek was grazed by the ball, replied by firing into the cabin
a random shot, which lodged in the table; and now, with pistols and
the double-barrelled fowling-piece, there ensued a regular skirmish,
in which our friends, in the dark seclusion of the cabin, had all the
best of it, the mutineers' mode of warfare being simply a waste of
ammunition, as some four or five of them in succession continued to
dart past the open skylight, down which they fired at random.
Too terrified to weep, Ethel and Rose, clasped in each other's arms,
reclined on their knees against the side of their bed, with poor old
nurse Folgate grovelling on the carpet beside them.
Every instant they heard the sharp reports of the pistols, and saw
the explosions flashing through the slits in their cabin-door, and
all unaccustomed to the horrors of such an event, they could scarcely
believe that they were not in a dream.
Who could imagine that such a scene would occur on board of a London
ship? But they knew not the evils that attend a mixed crew.
Ignorant of the chances and casualties of voyaging on the deep, Ethel
and Rose, but particularly the former, was utterly bewildered by this
terrible episode, in which she found herself and friends involved.
Every shot, every sound, made her heart leap for her father and her
lover.
She had pictured to herself how, with Morley by her side, she would
tend for life the declining years of her only and beloved
parent--tend him as her mother would have wished her to do. He, on
the other hand, had hoped to tend, watch, guide, and see her and Rose
far on the chequered highway of life; but now it seemed as if they
were all about to be torn from each other--he to suffer a violent and
cruel death, they dishonour and death together.
Rose! Rose! Poor Ethel's soul shrank within her at this crisis; but
it was more with fear for dear, merry little Rose than for herself.
For some time the exciting skirmish we have described continued,
without anyone being hit, apparently, either above or below, till
Morley felt someone close by utter a low heavy moan, or sigh, and
then fall suddenly and heavily against him.
"Quail--Mr. Quail," he exclaimed, "is this you? Are you hurt--are
you hit?"
It was poor Mr. Quail who, unable to reply, fell on the floor of the
cabin with blood bubbling from his mouth. A lucifer-match was
promptly applied to a candle, a light procured, and the wounded man
was laid on the floor of the captain's state-room, where Dr. Heriot
soon discovered that he was quite dead, being shot in the head by a
common nail, a proof that the ammunition of the enemy above was
running short.
"My God! Poor Quail--his wife and little ones!" exclaimed honest
Captain Phillips, with deep emotion. "Oh, gentlemen, when will these
horrors end?"
A low groan from Mr. Basset alone replied, and the features of the
hapless mate soon grew livid and ghastly in the flickering light of
the candle, as the damps and the pallor of death stole over them
together.
Meanwhile the crash of axes was heard in the hold, where already some
of the mutineers were making their way in search of plunder, through
the cargo, hoping to make a breach in the bulkhead and reach the
store where the ship's provisions and spirits were kept.