CHAPTER XVII.

ONE SHALL LIVE.

The way from the dining-room was through a long passage, lighted with

arc lamps at intervals, and having the doors of many rooms on the

right-hand side of it. Several of these doors were open; and I saw the

interiors of well-furnished bedrooms, of smaller sitting-rooms, and of

a beautifully-furnished billiard-room. At the end of the passage, we

descended a flight of stairs to another landing, where there was a

steep rock-slope leading right through the cliff almost to the level of

the water. This proved the way to a small stretch of beach which was at

the uppermost end of the fjord; and here I found several substantial

buildings of stone, evidently for the use of Black's company. The

largest of the houses seemed to be a kind of a hall, well lighted by

arc lamps. Into this we passed, lifting a heavy curtain of skins; and

seated there, on all sorts of rough lounges and benches, were the men I

had seen in Paris, with fifty or sixty others, no less ferocious-looking

or more decently clad. There were negroes in light check suits and red

flannel shirts; Americans in velveteen coats and trousers; Italians

muffled up in jerseys; Spaniards playing cards before the roaring fire;

half-castes smoking cheroots and drinking from china pots; Englishmen

lying wrapped in rugs, asleep, or bawling songs to a small audience,

which gave a chorus back in mellifluous curses; Russians drunk with

spirits; Frenchmen chattering; Chinese mooningly silent; over all an

atmosphere of smoke and foul odours, of fetid warmth and stifling

heaviness.

As we entered the place the din was deafening, a medley of shouts and

oaths, of songs and execrations; but it ceased when the captain bawled

"Silence!" and an unusual stillness prevailed. The man Four-Eyes, who

was always the immediate "go-between" so far as the captain and crew

were concerned, at once put chairs for us near the huge fireplace,

setting a great armchair for the skipper, with a small table whereon

were many papers, and a small wooden hammer such as the chairman of a

meeting commonly uses. Black took his seat in the great chair, with the

doctor, the Scotsman, and myself around him; and then he harangued the

men.

"Boys," he said, "we're home again. I give you luck on it--and swill it

down in liquor."

I noticed that he had put on with his entry into the room all his old

fierceness of manner and coarseness. He shouted out his words whenever

he spoke, and emphasised them with bangs of the hammer upon the table.

The call for wine was answered by some of the niggers fetching in cases

of champagne, and soon the stuff was running in every part of the hall.

The captain waited until the men were drinking, and then he continued--

"I guess, boys, the next thing to do is to make our calculations. We've

had a smart month's work, and there's a matter of two hundred and fifty

pounds a man waiting for you when next you foot it in New York. That's

my calculation; and if there's one of you doubts it, he can see the

figures."

He waited for them to speak, but they gave him only a great shout of

approval, when he became more serious.

"You know, lads, there'll be a spell of holiday here for you, which you

may reckon that I regret as much as any of you. The skipper of the

American cruiser has made hell in Europe, and there's twenty cruisers

out after us if there's one. That I snap my fingers at; but fighting

isn't the game for you and me, who are looking for dollars; and we

won't hurt to lie low until the spring. Has any man got anything to say

against that?"

There was not a word in answer to the threatening question; and then

Black, bracing himself up to anger, went on--

"I now come to speak of a bit of business which you all want to hear

about. There was two of you refused a double watch when we left the

Yankee cruiser. Let 'em step forward."

One man, a dark-visaged Russian, with a yellow beard, stepped to the

table at the words, but he was alone.

"Where is Dave Skinner?" asked the captain in a calm, but horridly

meaning, voice.

"I guess he's sleeping on it," said the man Roaring John, whom I

noticed for the first time, curled up on a bench in the corner, the

bandages still upon his face.

"Kick him awake, the blear-eyed bullock," said Black, and the kicking

was done right heartily; the subject, a huge man with dark hair,

closely cropped, and a stubbly beard, rising to his feet and looking

round him like one dazed with strong drink.

"Wall," said he, speaking to Roaring John, "you big-booted swine, what

d'ye reckon ez you want along o' me?"

"Ask the skipper, cuss," replied the other, pushing the sleepy man

forward to the chair where the Russian stood; and then Black began to

speak to them quite calmly--

"Boys," he said, "I got it agen you that you refused my orders, and

refused them at a pinch when me and the rest of 'em ran for our lives.

Each of you lays the blame for this on the other, and I'm not going to

haggle about that. You know what we're bound by, and that I can't go

beyond what's written any more than you can go beyond it. There are two

of you in this, and you settle your own differences--one of you lives.

John, give 'em knives!"

As I heard these words, amazed and doubting, the men, without any other

incitement, and uttering no remark, stripped off their coats and stood

naked to the waists. The crew about left off their games and drew near,

forming a ring round the men, who had taken up great clasp-knives, and

were evidently to fight for their very lives. I knew then the meaning

of the words "One of you lives;" and an excitement, strange and full of

morbid interest, took possession of me.

That the men were to fight, and fight to the death, was sufficiently

terrible; but a savour of horror was added to the dish by the flagrant

unfairness of the conditions under which they fought. The American,

Skinner, was thickly built, and of a sturdy physique. He had the better

of his man in height, in reach, in physical strength; for Tovotsky, as

I heard the Russian called, was a man of small stature, rather a shred

of a man, full hairy about his breast, yet giving small signs of

hardihood, or of power. It seemed to me that he might well have

protested against the manner of the contest, and urged that a fight

with knives would go to the stronger, skill being no part of it; but he

said nothing, wearing an air of sullen determination, while his

antagonist bellowed at him as though to overawe him by cheap bravado.

"Stand up right here, so ez I ken stick you, boss," he cried, when they

faced each other; adding as the Russian dodged him: "What, my hearty,

have ye got the taste of it already?--now steady, ye yellow-haired

buzzard; steady, ye skunk, while I make hog's meat of you."

They stood crouched like beasts, or revolved about each other, the

gleaming blades poised in the air, their left hands seeking

holding-place. Skinner struck first, his knife shining bright against

the light as he slashed at Tovotsky's throat, but the Russian doubled

down between his legs, and the pair fell heavily a yard away from each

other.

"Slit him as he lies, Dave!" "End him, Tov!" "Do you reckon you're

abed?" These and other equally elegant exclamations fell from the lips

of the crew, as the men lay dazed, fearful of mischief if they rose.

But the Russian was first up, and springing at the other, who rolled

aside as he came, he sent his knife home in his opponent's back, and a

great shout of "First blood!" turned me sick with the terror of it. Nor

could I look at them for some minutes, fearing to see a more repulsive

spectacle; but when next I saw them, they were crouching again, and the

American was silent, undoubtedly suffering from his wound, which bled

freely. Presently he made another spring at Tovotsky, who ducked down,

but got a slit across his shoulder, whereon he set up a howl of pain,

and ran round and round the ring; while the other followed him, making

lunges terrible to see, but doing no more mischief. The effort took the

breath out of both of them, and they paused at last, panting like dogs,

and drinking spirits which their friends brought them. When they

resumed again, it was by mutual agreement, rushing at each other and

gripping. Each man then had got hold of the right hand of his

antagonist, so that the deadly knives were powerless, while the pair

struggled, trying to "back-heel" each other. Round and round they went,

bumping against their fellows in the circle, straining their muscles so

that they cracked, uttering fierce cries in the agony of the struggle

for life. But the American had the strength of it, and he forced

Tovotsky's hand back upon him, stabbing him with his own knife again

and again, so that the man's breast was covered with wounds, and he

seemed like soon to faint from weakness. It might have been that he

would have died where he stood, but by some terrible effort he forced

himself free; and with the howl of a wild beast, he thrust his own

knife to the hilt in the American's side. It broke at the handle; but

the long blade was left embedded in the flesh, and the force of the

blow was so overwhelming that Skinner drew himself straight up with

death written in his protruding eyes and distorted features. Yet he had

strength to seek vengeance, for his antagonist had now no weapon left

to him, which the American saw, and ran after him with a scream of

rage; when Tovotsky fled, breaking the ring, and scudding round the

great room like a maniac. There Skinner followed him, crying with pain

at every movement, almost foaming at the mouth as his wiry enemy eluded

him. At last the Russian approached the door, his opponent being within

a few feet of him, but the smaller man fell headlong through the

curtain, and at that the death-agony came upon Skinner. He stopped as

though held in a vice, hurled his knife at the Russian, and fell down

dead. The men gave a great shout, and rushed from the place to find the

other; but they brought him in dead as he had fallen, and far from

being moved at the ghastly sight, they holloaed and bellowed like

bulls, coming to reason only at the skipper's cry.

"Take 'em up to the cavern, some of you there, and lay 'em side by side

to cool," he said brutally, and his orders were instantly obeyed.

Others of the crew brought buckets and swabs unbidden, and cleansed the

place, after which Black addressed the men again as though the terrible

scene was a thing of common happening.

"Before I give you good-night," he said, "I want to tell you that we've

got a stranger with us; but he's here to stay, and he's my charge."

"Has he jined?" asked the blear-eyed Yankee, who had eyed me with much

curiosity; but the captain answered--

"That's my affair, and you keep your tongue still if you don't want me

to cut it out; he'll join us by-and-by."

"That's agen rules," said the man Roaring John, loafing up with others,

who seemed to resent the departure.

"Agen what?" asked Black in a tone of thunder, turning on the fellow a

ferocious gaze; "agen what, did you remark?"

"Agen rules," replied Roaring John; "his man broke my jaw, and I'll pay

him, oh, you guess; it's not for you to go agen what's written no more

than us."

Black's anger was evident, but he held it under.

"Maybe you're right," he said carelessly; "we've made it that no

stranger stays here unless he joins, except them in the mines--but I've

my own ideas on that, and when the time comes I'll abide by what's

done. That time isn't yet, and if any man would like to dictate to me,

let him step out--maybe it's you, John?"

The fellow slunk away under the threat, but there were mutterings in

the room when we left; and I doubt not that my presence was freely

discussed. This did not much concern me, for Black was master beyond

all question, and he protected me.

We went back with him to the long passage where I had seen the doors of

bed-chambers, and there he bade me good-night. The doctor showed me

into a room in the passage, furnished both as a sitting-room and a

bedroom, a chamber cut in the solid rock, but with windows towards the

sea; and when he had seen to the provisions for my comfort, he, too,

went his way. But first he said--

"You must have been born under a lucky star: you're the first man to

whom Black ever gave an hour's grace."

The Iron Pirate: A Plain Tale of Strange Happenings on the Sea · 第 17 / 27 章