I CONFRONT THE CUBANO.
From the wild thoughts and fancies which the horrors of that early
morning, our strange situation, and my own rather active imagination,
were suggesting, I was roused by Ned Carlton, who, on being relieved
from the wheel, came forward to the bows, where most of the crew were
seated on the windlass, or were lounging against the bitts,
speculating on what might turn up next.
In an excited and impressive manner, he reported that he had heard,
from time to time, the sound of moans, as from some one in great pain
in the cabin; that he believed that either the captain or mate yet
survived; and if we could get down by any means we might be in time
to save one or other. If he was bleeding to death, the victim could
not last long,--a little time, and we should be too late!
This information increased our anxiety, and greatly excited us.
Remembering the manner in which Antonio first came on board--the
mystery of his being alone in the blood-stained boat--his dreams--the
disappearance of Roberts--the occurrences of the morning--and though
last not least, the rough treatment to which the crew had subjected
him on the night we passed the line,--none were very willing to enter
the cabin where this savage Cubano, flushed with brandy, bloodshed,
and ferocity, sat with loaded pistols in his hands. But all felt
that something must be done; that, while a doubt remained, it should
be solved, and a life so important to us saved, even though others be
risked for it.
I volunteered to become the envoy of the crew.
"No, no, Master Rodney," said Tattooed Tom; "this will never do!
What, do you think we will let you venture into that murderer's den
while so many able-bodied fellows hang astern?"
"But I know his language, which none of you do."
"He speaks the Queen's English now as well as any of us," said
Carlton; "and if I had only a pistol or a musket to give me but one
chance for my life, I would have made _it_ speak to him long ago, in
the lingo such pirates know best."
"Moreover, as I did not molest him on the night we crossed the line,
he has no particular grudge at _me_?" I urged.
"There is some sense and truth in that," muttered several of the crew.
"I'll go--it is settled," said I, anxious to solve the mystery of the
groans, while feeling a glow of triumph at the applause I should gain
for the risk I ran, which assuredly was not a small one.
"It is a shame for us lubberly fellows to stand by here and see that
lad risk his life," said Probart, one of the crew; "and if so be that
Creole picaroon falls foul of him----"
"If he does," exclaimed Tom Lambourne through his firmly set teeth,
while striking his clenched right hand on the hard palm of the left,
"may I never see England again if we don't attack him both at stem
and stern at once! I'll drop down the skylight, with as many as will
follow me, while you, Ned, will dash down the companionway with the
rest, and then at him with hatchet, handsaw, and capstan-bar. He
can't kill us _all_, shipmates, that's one comfort--he can't kill us
all!"
The prospect of an early demise was neither soothed nor encouraged by
this promise of the bloody scene that was to follow.
The carpenter gave me a small but very sharp tomahawk. I concealed
it in my breast, and resolved to use it to some purpose if molested
in the cabin. The idea flashed upon me that by one determined blow I
might disable him forever, and perhaps do an act of justice by
dispatching him outright.
With a vague sense that I was about to face a terrible danger, and
that the sooner it was faced and past, the better, I walked hastily
aft, and on descending the companion-ladder, paused when half-way
down, and after knocking on the bulkhead called out distinctly and
boldly,--
"Antonio! Hallo, Cubano!"
"Well, what do you want?" asked he, sulkily.
"To speak with you; may I come down?"
"Enter companero; you have not yet harmed me, thus I bear you no
malice."
Putting a hand in my breast to ascertain that my little hatchet was
secure, I entered the cabin, where the Cubano, with his broad back
placed against the rudder-case, was seated on the stern-locker at the
table, which he had covered with bottles, biscuits, cheese, and
polonies, while papers, dockets, broken desks and boxes, lay
scattered about him. He was clad, as I have stated, in the poor
skipper's best shore-going suit of clothes, which he wore open and
loose, for the atmosphere of the cabin, notwithstanding the shattered
skylight, was oppressively hot, as the sun was now almost vertical;
the flies were in noisy swarms, and the cockroaches were crawling
over all the beams and bulkhead panels.
On first hearing a foot on the companion-ladder, he had evidently
snatched up a revolver, and cocked it; but on finding that his
visitor was only me, he put it down, threw away the fag-end of a
cigarito, and said, with a ferocious grin and ironical politeness,--
"Buenos dias (a good day), senor; to what am I indebted for this
visit?"
It was the first time I had ever looked in the face of a man who had
coolly destroyed a fellow-being as he had done, and my flesh seemed
to creep with an indescribable loathing; but I had a purpose to
achieve, and determined to do it.
I was about to enter Weston's state-room, when the Cubano cocked his
revolver and cried, in a voice of thunder,--
"Come back, or I will shoot you as dead as he is! Ha, ha! _por
grados_" (by degrees) "I shall get rid of you all."
I paused and looked at him; my young heart beat wildly; I felt that I
was facing death, and what would I not have given had my hatchet been
a pistol, even with _one_ barrel, though my opponent was master of
twelve charges.
"He is dead then?" said I, in a husky voice.
"Who--which?" asked the Cubano, with a fresh cigarito between his
strong white teeth.
"Captain Weston."
"Aye, dead as Judas!" said he, laughing hoarsely.
"But I understand that Hislop--" I stammered.
"El contra-maestre--well?"
At that moment, a low moan which went through my heart, came from the
state-room or little side cabin of Marc Hislop.
"Well, hombre, what of him?" growled Antonio.
"He is bleeding to death, and I wish to remove him."
"Do as you please, he will be food for the fish before the sun sets."
"You will allow me to take him on deck?" said I, earnestly, almost
imploringly.
"Yes; you have done me no harm;" (he repeated this very often) "woe
to those who have done so!"
A gleam of suspicion flashed in the eyes of Antonio as he said--
"True; but not a man shall enter here, and leave alive. The
ship-boys may assist you; but I will shoot the whole crew down like
dogs, if they venture to approach me; so I give you five minutes to
carry the contra-maestre to the forecastle bunks, or to pitch him
overboard, whichever you please, though the last would please _me_."
"Five minutes?"
"Yes, five by this watch," he added, pulling out of his fob a gold
repeater, which, even in the excitement of the moment, I recognized
to be mine, the same which my mother gave me, when I first left home
for Eton, and of which I had been robbed at Teneriffe. There was no
doubting the little rings and charms which my sisters Dot, Sybil, and
one of their female friends had appended to it; and thus I discovered
another black link in the life of Antonio.
I dared not appear to recognize it when his strong, brown, hairy
hand, the bloody spots on which made me shudder, held it toward me,
lest he might shoot me down, but summoned Billy Wilkins, the cabin
boy, by desiring the man at the wheel, "to pass word forward for him
and another apprentice."
The boys came, but not without great fear and reluctance; and while
Antonio proceeded leisurely to make another paper cigar, keeping his
ears open for every sound, and his black eyes fixed keenly on us the
while, we entered the little state-room of Marc Hislop, and beheld a
sight which filled us with the deepest commiseration and dismay.