  Story 2--Chapter I.I shipped aboard the Sea-mew, full-rigged, trading from the port of London to New Zealand. Two more old shipmates of mine entered along with me; and we were just beginning to feel the breeze that would send us down Channel in less than no time. The skipper came aboard at Gravesend, and the rest of the passengers, and among ’em we had one poor chap who had to be whipped up in a chair, looking the while like as if he’d come aboard to find a hammock and a sailor’s funeral. There was some petticoats, too, about him, and they had to be whipped up too, but I didn’t take much notice, being hurried about here and ordered there, and the passengers all seeming to have an idea, that now they’d come aboard, all there was to do was to get in everybody’s way, and stand wiping their eyes. They would get in your way and aggravate, and when they moved, go and stand somewhere wuss, till it was enough to make a saint swear; and I’m blest if I don’t think that, being a man used to the sea, and a quick-tempered sort of a fellow, Peter hisself would have gone on ’most as bad as I did. What does a great fat fellow of two-and-forty want to go walloping down where the mate had told you to coil forty fathom o’ rope, and then begin blubbering like a great gal? And what do people as have done nothing but grumble and cuss at the old country, go waving their handkerchiefs at it for, and then fall into one another’s arms a-kissing and a-hugging, and just, too, when the deck’s in such a litter that the skipper and the mate are ’most raving mad? It’s a nice place, deck of a ship just before sailing, what with the lumber, and the crew being all raw, and half of ’em three parts, or quite drunk. We’d a nice lot, we had, aboard the Sea-mew; for it seemed to me, as soon as I saw them together, that the skipper had been having the pick of the docks, and choosing all them as nobody else wouldn’t take aboard a ship. But it was in this way: there’d been a sort of an upset about pay, and half the merchant-sailors were on strike; and as the owners of the Sea-mew had advertised her to sail at a certain time, and it was ten days past that time, the skipper had been obliged to sign articles with any one he could get. They were all fresh ones to us; six-and-twenty of ’em, but mostly seemed to know one another, and how to handle a rope. We’d a mixed freight—live-stock mostly, going out emigrating, and more live-stock to feed ’em with, and a young doctor to see as they was all well, and had their salts-and-senny reg’lar; and a great big chap as couldn’t stand up down below, but was always chipping his head, and taking the shape out of his hat against what he called the ceiling. They said he was a nat’ralist, though he was about the longest, okkardest, corner-shaped, unnat’ral fellow I ever did see; and he’d got more live-stock in no end of great cages—cock-sparrows and tom-tits, and blackbirds and starnels, and all sorts o’ little twittering things to introduce amongst the New Zealanders. Then there was Brummagem and Manchester and Sheffield goods, and plants and seeds in cases; and the deck that full, that, as I said before, it was enough to make any one swear, let alone a sailor. ’Tain’t a nice time, the first week at sea; for, to begin with, it takes all that time to get the longshore goings-on shook out of the men, and them fit to work well together; then, if it happens to blow a bit, as it mostly does in the Channel, there’s all the passengers badly, cabin and steerage, and their heads chock-full of shipwrecks; and when they ain’t frightened of going to the bottom, calling the doctor a brute for not attending to ’em. Sea-sickness is bad enough, while it lasts, but folks needn’t be so disagreeable about it, and every one think his case ten hundred times worse than anybody else’s; but they will do it; and as for the fat chap as cried so about going away, he quite upset the young doctor, as they called Mr Ward; and if I’d been him, and been bothered as he was, I’d have give Mr Fatsides such a dose o’ Daffy as would have sent him to sleep for a week. Story 2--Chapter II.“You’ve put your foot in it, Sam Brown,” I says to my old shipmet when things was about knocked together, and we were bowling along well out of sight of land. We’d been putting that and that together, and found out that for some months to come, let alone wind and weather, we’d got our work cut out, the skipper being one of your reg’lar slave-drivers, that nothing can’t satisfy, and the mate a sneak, as would do anything to please the captain. So “You’ve put your foot in it, Sam Brown,” I says; but he only grunted. Bill Spragg, though—my other mate—turns a bit rusty, and says it was me as got them to sign the articles, and it was all my fault; for he was a bit sore, owing to a row he’d been in that day. But it was no use to growl, and say the ship was a bad one; we were in the ship, and bad captain, bad mate, bad crew, and bad victualling, there it all was, and there was no getting away from it. “Never mind, lads; ’tain’t bad pay,” I says. “Pay!” says Bill Spragg. “I’d forfeit to-morrow to be out of it, and—Look ye there, Tom.” I turned to look; and it was the passenger I’ve spoken of before, him that was whipped up on deck, and now he was out for the first time for a walk, being a bright sunshiny time; while the petticoat as came on board with him was leading him about the deck. “Looks bad,” I says. “Yes,” says Bill. “But I meant the lass. Just look at her.” “What for?” I says. “Fine lines,” growls Sam Brown, squinting at her, for he was a chap that could squint awful, and when he looked partic’lar at anything his eyes used to get close together, and he had to turn his head first on one side and then on the other. He was such a quiet chap, and spoke so little, that I used to think his eyes tried to turn round and look inside his head, to see what he was thinking about. “Fine lines,” he says, and then he shuts one eye up, and holds it close, while he has another look. “Beautiful! ain’t she?” says Bill. “Gammon,” I says. “Wax-doll. She’d better not get wet, or she’d melt. I wish they wouldn’t have no women aboard.” “Why?” says some one close behind me. And looking round, there was the young doctor and Tomtit, as we called him—the long chap as had all the birds. “Why?” I says gruffly; “because they’re in the way, and ain’t no good, and consooms the ship’s stores. Would my deck be littered here with hens and cocks singing out eight bells when ’tain’t nothing of the kind; and a couple of cows as is always lowing to be milked, and then giving some thin stuff like scupper-washings; and a goat and sheep till the place only wants an old turkey-cock and jackass or two to be a reg’lar farmyard, ’stead o’ a ship’s deck—would there be all these things there if it warn’t for the women? Bother the women! I wish there wasn’t a woman on the face of the earth.” “He was crossed in love when he was a young un, sir,” says Bill Spragg with a grin. “Women’s right enough ashore,” says Sam Brown, and he squinted towards where the sick patient was along with the petticoat, till both his eyes went out of sight behind his nose, which was rather long in the bridge, and then he sighed, and we sprinkled the sea with a little baccy-juice before coming back to the job we were at—scraping the chain-cable. “One of our protectors wants to pay his regards to you, Miss Bell,” says Mr Ward, the young doctor, you know, for just then she was passing close with the poor thin sick chap, who was her husband, and I saw her just bend her head as the doctor and Tomtit took off their hats to her. “Sarvant, miss,” I says gruffly, getting my legs straight too, for there was something about her that seemed to compel one to be civil like, being such a bright-eyed girl, with red and white in her face and a set o’ teeth as couldn’t have known what it was to want to be pulled out in their lives. “Sarvant, Miss,” I says, making a scrape, and not a bit took aback. “I was only a-saying as worn—ladies ain’t no business aboard ships.” “And why not?” she said quietly. “’Cause all’s rough and ready, and folk’s tongues gets running too free afore them,” I says. And then to myself: “That’s one for you, Mr Jalap;” and then I turned towards the sick young man, whose sunken eyes looked brighter, and angry, and jealous like, as he held tight by his sister’s arm, and he says: “Come, lady, let’s go below. The sailor is right. Drink my health, my man;” and he threw me a shilling. “That I will, sir,” I says, as he turned away, though I thought to myself it would want drinking a many times before I could do him any good. The doctor looked rather black at me; but I wouldn’t see it, and got down cross-legged at my work, while Tomtit and he lit their cigars, and began walking up and down the deck. Story 2--Chapter III.What a wonderful deal a sailor can get to know if he only keeps his eyes and ears open! Of course, I mean aboard ship, where everything is, as you may say, close to your hand. Now, acting after this way, and being a rough, blunt sort of an old fellow—for I always looked old from the time I was forty—people would come and make friends with me, in a fashion, so that I got to know a deal. The doctor would have his chat on things in general, and give me cigars, and by degrees work round to the sick passenger and his case; and I soon could see that though he didn’t care a damp about the sick passenger, he took a deal of interest in his case, and I could guess pretty well why. Then Tomtit would come and fold his back, so that he could lean his elbers on the bulwarks, and he’d chatter about his birds, all the while smoothing his hair, and arranging his tie and collar, and brushing specks off his coat, as he kept looking towards the cabin-stairs, to see if some one was coming up; and when—being a thoroughly good-hearted, weak, soft-Tommy sort of a chap—he’d heave a great sigh, I used to shake my head at him, and say as I could see what was the matter with he, it was wonderful how friendly he’d get. “I wouldn’t care if I had a few canaries on board,” he’d say. “They are such nice birds if you want to make a present to a lady.” “Why not try a couple o’ doves?” I says. He looked at me as if he meant to do it through and through, but I don’t think he got far below the outside rind—mine being rather a thick skin, and I didn’t let a single wrinkle squeeze up to look like a smile; so he says, after a minute’s thought: “You’re right, Roberts,” he says; and that night, hang me, if he didn’t send me to the cabin with a note, and a cage with a couple of turtle-doves in. He gave me half-a-crown for taking it, and he’d been busy all the afternoon touching up the cage with a bit of ship’s paint, that wasn’t half dry when I took it; but I brought it back again with me, with Mr and Miss Bell’s compliments and thanks, but Mr Bell’s health would not bear the noise of the birds. The poor chap—Butterwell, his name was—looked awfully down when he saw me come back, but he wouldn’t show it more than he could help; he only said something about wishing he’d had canaries, and turning his back to me, began to whistle, and feed his other birds, of which he’d got quite five hundred in a place fitted up on purpose, though there was nearly always one or two dead of a morning, specially if the night had been rough. Well, somehow, I got to see that Miss Bell was not without her admirers; while her brother, poor chap, clinging to her as the only being he had to love on earth, seemed to hate for a soul to speak to her, and whenever I saw him, he used to watch her every look. Not that he had any need, for she seemed almost to worship him; leading him about; reading to him for hours, till I’ve heard her husky and hoarse, and have gone and fetched a glass of lime-juice and water from the steward, to get a pleasant smile from her, and a nod from the sick man for what I had done. “You’re a lucky man, Roberts,” Mr Ward says to me one day when he had seen me fetch it, and the pay I got for my trouble. “What for?” I says gruffly, for it wasn’t no business of his. “P’raps you’d like to change places, sir, eh?” But he only laughed, and the more rough I was, the better friends we kept. There were many more passengers, of course, but I never saw that they were any different to other cargoes of emigrants as I had helped to take over: there was two or three of those young chaps that always go out to make fortunes, packed off by their friends because they don’t know what to do with them at home; some young farmers, and labourers, and mechanics—some with wife and children, some without; children there was plenty of—always is where there’s women; and one way and another there was enough to make the ship uncomfortable, without a skipper who was a brute, and a mate a cowardly sneak. The crew were as bad a lot as ever ran round a capstan, but that was no reason why they were to be treated like dogs. If they’d been as good men as ever stepped, it would have been the same, for Bill Smith and Sam were A1 foremast-men; and while there was a sheet to haul taut, a sail to furl, or a bit of deck to holy-stone, I was ready to take my turn; but it was all the same, and I’ve seen the men bullied till they’ve gone scowling down below, and more than once I’ve said to Sam: “There’ll be foul weather yet, my lad, afore we get this voyage to an end.” Story 2--Chapter IV.Now, as to ordinary weather, that was all as a sailor could wish for—bright skies, fine starn winds, and the ship bowling along her nine or ten knots an hour. We got into the warm belts, shoved up the awnings, and had our bits of fishing as chances come up; but for all that, I wasn’t easy in my mind. I’d been so long at sea, and knocked about amongst so many sorts of people, and in such different weather, that appearances that would not have been noticed by some folks made a bit of an impression on me, and not without reason, as you’ll say by and by. For instance, it didn’t look well, so I thought, for a chap to out knife and threaten the captain for hitting him on the head with a speaking-trumpet, though it might be only in a bit of a passion, still it didn’t seem right; nor yet for the skipper to be always harassing the men when there was no need—piping all hands up to make or shorten sail, when the watch could have done it very well themselves, and then making the men do it again and again, because it wasn’t what he called smart enough. You see, men don’t take much notice of that sort of thing once, nor yet twice, but if it’s kept up, they grumble, ’specially when they know they’ve been doing their best. Then the provisions were horrible, and enough to make any man discontented; water wasn’t served out in sufficient quantity, and things got so bad at last that the men had meetings, right forward of a night, about the way they were served. I knew a good deal and heard a good deal, but it didn’t seem to be my place to go and tell tales, and besides, I never thought there’d be much the matter, more than a row, and perhaps a man or two put in irons, to be kept there till we got into port. I said so, in fact, to my mates Bill and Sam, “and what’s more,” I says, “irons won’t do for me, my lads, so let’s make the best of things, and get a better ship as soon as we can.” Sam grunts, and Bill Smith said it was all right; so we went on with what was set us to do, and made as little trouble of it as we could. But there was one chap aboard as the captain seemed quite to hate, and used to put upon him shameful. He was a thin wiry fellow, as yellow as a guinea, and looked as if he’d black blood in his veins; but he always swore as he had not. He’d got a Dutch sort of name, Van Haigh, but hailed somewhere out of one of the West Indy Islands, and had knocked about almost everywhere. Curious-looking chap he was, looked as if he’d always got his parlour window-blinds half pulled down, and he’d peep at you sideways from underneath them in a queer catlike sort of way. He was quite a swell fellow in his way, only dirty as dirty, and that didn’t do nothing towards setting off the big silver rings he had in his ears, and was uncommon proud of. We mostly used to call him “Van” for short; and against this chap the skipper always seemed to have a spite, bullying him about more than all the rest put together, till you might have thought his life would have been miserable—but not it; he always showed his white teeth and grinned, pocketing all that the skipper and the mate gave him, till them pockets of his must have been full and nigh unto bursting. Once the captain knocked him down with a marlinespike, but he never drew no knives, not even when the mate kicked him, and told him to get up. He only grinned, but it was a queer sort of grin, and I didn’t like the look of it. These sort of rows used generally to take place when the passengers had gone down of a night, or before they came on deck of a morning. While before the cabin lot, Captain Harness was quite the gentleman, and it seemed to me that he had a sort of hankering after Miss Bell, like some more of them, or else he wouldn’t have been so wonderfully civil about having Mr Bell’s chair moved here and there, and wanting him to take wine, and things that Mr Ward said he was better without. As to the fore-cabin passengers, they went on just about the same as fore-passengers mostly do: asked every day whether we were nearly there, played ship’s billiards, and a bit or two of music; smoked a deal, and slept a deal more, and only did just so much work as they was obliged to. No doubt there was their little bits of squabbling, and courting, and so on, going on; but my eyes were turned in another direction; and, soon after we’d crossed the line, I couldn’t help thinking how very sixy-and-seveny matters had growed. Instead of being friendly, there was quite an unpleasantness between Mr Ward and the Bells, for the sick man was as jealous as could be, and it was plain enough that he downright hated the doctor. As for Miss Bell, as far as I could see, she never even bowed to him, and he and Tomtit used to walk up and down the deck together, as if they were the fastest of friends. “And why don’t they bow to one another as they used?” I says to myself, as I lay in my hammock. “Why don’t you mind your own business and go to sleep?” says Common-sense; and as I was too tired to argufy, I made no answer, but went off sound. Story 2--Chapter V.Now, if what I’m going to tell you had happened a week sooner, I should have been on the look-out for it, or if it had come off a week later; but, like many more such things, it came when it wasn’t expected, and my sails were took aback as much as anybody’s. Things had been going on more peaceably than usual—weather having been hot, with light steady wind, which just took us easily through the water with stunsails set alow and aloft. The heat had made the captain sleepy, and he showed precious little on deck, while the mate, who always took his tone from the skipper, used just to give an order or two, and then make himself as comfortable as he could. It was my watch one night with Sam Brown, Bill Smith, and a couple more. Hot! it was one of the hottest nights I ever knew, and we were lolling about over the sides, looking at the golden green water as it gently washed by the bows as we just parted it, making only way enough for the ship to answer her helm. Bill Smith had gone to take his trick at the wheel, and, looking along the deck, you could just make out his face by the binnacle-light shining up and around him. There was a faint glow, too, up from the cabin skylights, and from where the ship’s lanterns flashed on the water, else it was a thick darkness everywhere, and us sailing through it, and seeming to get nearer and nearer to some great black heat, that made the perspiration stream out of you at every pore. “’Nuff to bake ’em down below, Sam,” I says, after we’d been quiet for a good hour. “I fancy if I was there, I should be for coming up and lying on the deck, where it’s cooler.” “Cooler!” says one of them with us, “why, the planks are hot yet.” “But you can breathe,” I says. “Well, yes,” says the other; “you can get your breath.” Then we were quite still again for a piece, when Sam gives me a shove, to call my attention to something. “Well, what now?” I says. “They’re a-coming on deck,” says Sam. “They’re in the right of it,” I says; “and if—” I got no more out, for there was a hand clapped over my mouth, and the next moment I was at it in an up-and-down struggle with some one, but not so hard but that I heard Sam Brown go down like a bullock upon the deck; and then I shook myself free, ran to the mizen-shrouds, and sprang up them like a cat; and, as soon as I was out of reach, leaned down and listened. There was no mistake about it: the ship had been taken with hardly so much as a scuffle, and though I could not see more than a figure trot quickly by one of the skylights, I could hear that the hatches were being secured, and men posted there; and for a minute I felt sure that we had been boarded in the darkness, and that I, one of the principal men in the watch, had kept a bad lookout. Directly after, though, there came a bit more scuffling and an oath or two, and I heard a voice that I knew for Bill Smith’s, and another that I could tell was Van’s; and then, like a light, it all came upon me that while we had been watching out-board, there was an enemy in the ship, and the men had risen. I wouldn’t have it for a bit, feeling sure that I must have known of it; but I was obliged to give in, for I heard next in the darkness a hammering at the cabin doors, and the skipper’s voice shouting to be let out; and then came the mate’s backing him up; then a pistol-shot or two, and the shivering of glass, like as if the cabin skylight had been broken; and then came Van’s shrill voice, giving orders, and threatening; and from the way the man spoke, I knew in a minute that there had been a chained devil amongst us, and that he had broken loose. As soon as I could pull myself together a bit, and get to think, I got out my box, opens it and my knife, cuts a fresh bit of baccy, and then, taking a good hold of the stay I was on, began to wonder what I’d better do next. Staying where I was did very well for the present; but it would not be such a great while before daybreak, and then I knew they would see me, and, if I didn’t come down, shoot me like a dog. I felt sure that they had done for my two poor mates, for I could not hear a sound of them; and seeing that joining the enemy below was out of the question, what I had to do was to get to them in the cabin. But how? There I was, perched up close to the top, with the yard swinging gently to and fro; and between me and those I wanted to join, there was the enemy. I felt puzzled; and in the midst of my thought, listening the while as I was to the muttering of voices I heard below, I snapped-to the lid of the steel box I had in my hand, and in the still night it sounded quite sharp and clear. “What a fool!” I said to myself, and crept in closer to the mast, for the voices below ceased, and two pistol-bullets came whistling through the rigging. Then there was a sharp whispering, and a couple more shots were fired; but I did not move, for it would have been like directing them where to aim. Then came Van’s voice, as he shouted: “Fetch him down!” And I knew from the way in which the rigging trembled, that some of the enemy were coming up the shrouds to leeward and windward too. “Hunt him overboard, if he won’t give in,” shouted Van, and I set my teeth as I heard him; but there was no time to spare, and feeling about for a sheet, I got hold of it, meaning to swing myself out clear, and hang quite still, while they passed aloft, and then try for some hiding-place where I could gain the deck. I held on tight for a moment, and listened; and then in the darkness I could hear some one coming nearer and nearer, when, letting go with my feet, I swung gently off, and the next instant brushed up against something, when my heart gave a great bound, for I had found the way to get down to them in the cabin. Story 2--Chapter VI.“It may come to a fight though, after all, and a prick will keep some of them at a distance,” I says to myself, and getting my legs well round the sheet, I got hold of my knife, and opened it with my teeth, before making use of the chance that had shown itself. Perhaps it isn’t every one who knows what a wind-sail is, so I’ll tell you; it’s a contrivance like a great canvas stocking, six or seven feet round, and twenty or thirty long and by letting one end of this hang down through the cabin-hatch or skylight, and having the other bowsed up in the rigging, you have like a great open pipe bringing you down a reg’lar stream of cool air in the hot weather. Now it was just against the top end of this that I had brushed; and as it seemed to me all I had to do was to slip in, check myself all I could, and then go down with a run amongst friends, where, if not safe, I should certainly share their fate, whatever it might be, besides, perhaps, being of some use. Fortunately, I had the rope, and hauling myself up a bit, after two or three tries, I got my legs in, lowered away quickly, and came down pretty smartly, not, as I meant, in the chief cabin, but upon the deck, where I was now struggling to get loose, like a monkey in a biscuit-bag, for they had done what I had not reckoned upon, dragged up the end of the wind-sail, and shut down the cabin skylight, most likely when I heard the shots and breaking glass. It was lucky for me that it was dark, for though the noise I made brought them round me, I had time first to slit the canvas and slip out, panting, and not knowing which way to turn. I knew they dare not fire, for fear of hitting one another, and starting off, I ran them once right round the deck, keeping as much as I could under the bulwarks. The second time round I came right against one fellow, and sent him down head over heels; but I knew it couldn’t last, and that in spite of doubling they must have me. I could hear panting and voices all round, and on leaving off running, and creeping cautiously about, more than once I felt some one pass close by me—regularly felt them, they were so close. Once I thought of getting into the chains, but I knew if I did they would see me as soon as it was daybreak. Then I thought I might just as well jump overboard, and make an end of it, as be pitched over; directly after, I fancied I could crawl under the spare sail that covered the long-boat, and lie there. Last of all, I made for the poop, meaning to try and climb down to one of the cabin windows, but I stopped half-way, on account of the binnacle-light, and crept back towards the fore-part, to see if I could get down to the fore-cabin passengers. But it was of no use, and the only wonder was that I did not run right into some one’s arms; but the chances, perhaps, were not, after all, so very much against me, and I kept clear till they grew savage, and I could hear that they were cutting about at me with either knives or cutlasses; and in spite of my trouble then, I could not help wondering how they had come by their arms, for, of course, I could not know then how Van had stolen them from the cabin while the skipper was asleep. “I may as well knock under,” I said to myself, and I was about to give up, meaning first to give ’em one more round, when I stumbled. Twice over I had felt my bare feet, slip upon the deck, in what seemed blood, and had shuddered as I thought of how I should leave my footmarks all over the clean white boards; but this time I stumbled over what seemed to be a body, and should have fallen, if I had not gathered up my strength for a jump, and thrown myself forward, when, as if in one and the same moment, there was a crash as of breaking glass, a heavy fall, and then a foot was upon my throat, and a pistol held to my head. Story 2--Chapter VII.I was that shaken and confused by my fall, that for a moment I could not speak, and when I could say a few words, I did not know who I was speaking to, expecting that it was Van, till a voice I seemed to know whispered: “If you attempt to move, I fire.” “I ain’t going to move, Mr Ward,” I says at last: “it’s been too hard work to get here; but if you’ll pynt your pistol up at the skylight, it’ll be better, or some one else will be tumbling down after me. Only wish Sam Brown would.” “Pitched me down more’n half a hour ago,” growled a voice I knew. “What’s come of Bill Smith?” I says. “Lyin’ on the deck with his head split,” says Sam, “if they ain’t pitched him overboard.” Then I heard a whispering consultation going on, which seemed to be about whether I was to be trusted, when Mr Ward seemed to be taking my part, and then the skipper whispers to me: “If you’ll be faithful to us, Roberts, you shall be well rewarded; but if you play fast and loose, mind, we are well armed, and there will be no mercy for you.” “Who’s playing fast and loose?” I says gruffly as old Sam. “Ain’t I been cut at, and shot at, and then pitched neck and crop through the cabin skylight! If that’s your fast and loose, give me slow and tight for a game,” I says; “but mind you, it’s my opinion that there’s something else to do but play, for them beggars mean mischief.” “I’ll be answerable for him, Captain Harness,” says Mr Ward; and though all this went on in whispers, there wasn’t a face to be seen, every light having been put out. “You may trust him, he’s no spy.” “Spy be hanged,” I says. “Who’s going to play spy down here, in a place as is dark as an empty pitch-kettle in a ship’s hold! Don’t I tell you I’ve had to cut and run for my life, and what more do you want?” “Nothing, my man,” says Mr Ward; “only your help as a good and true British sailor, for here are women and children for us to protect.” “However shall I get to my birds?” some one says from out of the darkness. “Birds!” I says: “you won’t want no more birds, sir, for it’s my impression as we’re going to be kept caged up ourselves now.” Just then I seemed to catch just a faint glimpse of a face from out of the darkness, then it was gone again, and half a minute after I got another glimpse, and then another, when it was plain enough that the day was breaking; and then quickly the pale light stole down through the skylight, till the anxious faces of all the passengers, with the two officers and Sam Brown, was plain enough to see; and strange, and haggard, and queer they looked; but for all that, there was an air of determination amongst them, that showed they meant mischief; and I soon gathered from Mr Ward’s words that he was spurring the captain on to try and retake the ship. “I’m afraid it would only be a sacrifice of life, if I did,” said the skipper. “It would be a sacrifice of duty, if you did not, sir,” says Mr Ward warmly. “Perhaps you’d better retake her yourself, sir,” says the skipper sulkily. “I certainly shall try, sir, if you do not do your duty, to protect these helpless women. But we have a right to demand your assistance, and we do; while I have the word of every man present that he will fight to the last gasp for those who need our protection.” “I cannot fight, but I can load for you,” said a voice from behind; and looking round, as many of us did, there stood Mr Bell, pale as a ghost, but quite calm, and leaning upon his sister’s arm; while, if I could have seen anything in a woman to admire, I should have said she looked beautiful just then—being quite pale and calm—like the sea of a still morning before the sun rises. “There’s something to fight for there,” says Sam in my ear. “Why didn’t they all stop at home?” I says. “Just look what a mess they’ve got themselves in through being aboard ship, which is the last place as they should be in.” What Mr Ward had said seemed to have warmed the captain up; for sooner than see another take his place, he set to, and began to hunt out what arms he could find, after placing Mr Ward to guard the broken skylight, which he did with a revolver and a thin skewer of a thing out of a walking-stick, and it put me in mind of what I have read about some one being put in the fore-front of the battle; but the young man never said a word; and then, after a bit of a rummage, the captain came back to serve out what arms he could get told of, but that wasn’t many, for the enemy had pretty well emptied the locker where they were kept. A precious poor lot there was left for us to defend ourselves and a whole tribe of women and children; my share being an empty pistol, which didn’t seem to be so much use as a fellow’s fist, that being a handy sort of weapon in a tussle. Everything was done quiet as could be, so as not to let them on deck know what we were doing; but as soon as the arming part was finished, and I looked round, I could see that the game was up, for two more pistols, two cutlashes, and a couple of guns—sporting-guns, that two of the passengers had used to shoot sea-birds with—was all we could muster. As is always the case when it’s wanted, neither of these passengers had any more powder; and when Mr Ward’s little pistol-flask had been passed round once, there was not another charge left; but the captain had gone to get more, and we were expecting him back, piling up hammocks and bedding the while, to keep the mutineers off, and to have something to fight from behind. I was doing all I could, after shoving a good charge of powder and a whole handful of small-shot into my pistol, when Mr Ward beckons to me and whispers: “Go and see why he don’t come back; it’s time to be on the alert, for they are moving on deck.” I stepped lightly off—my feet being bare, making no noise on the planks—when coming upon the captain quickly, I saw him just putting down a water-can, and he turned round to me, looking pale as a sheet, as he says: “It’s no use, my lad; resistance would be vain, for they’ve contrived to wet what powder we had. Look at it.” He pointed to the little keg and a small case of cartridges, and sure enough they were all dripping wet, while it seemed rather surprising that the wetting looked so fresh. But I did not say so, only that Mr Ward hoped he’d make haste. “Curse Mr Ward!” he muttered; and then he went on first, and I followed with my cheeks blown out, as if I was going to whistle, but I didn’t make a sound for all that. “I fear that we must give up, Mr Ward,” says the skipper, “for the powder is all wet.” There was a regular groan of dismay at the news, and one woman gave a sort of sob, else they were still as mice, and the children too behaving wonderful. “Who talks of giving up?” says Mr Bell, his pale face flushing up as he spoke, and him holding one hand to his side. “Do you call yourselves men to hint at such a thing? I am no man now, only a broken, wasted shadow of a man, or, by the God who made me, Captain Harness, I’d strike you down! Look at these women, men! think of their fate if those scoundrels get the upper hand—completely—Mr Ward—you—as a gentleman—my sister—God help—” The poor young fellow staggered, and would have fallen, for the blood was trickling down upon his shirt-front—gushing from his lips; but Mr Ward saved him, springing forward as a cry burst from Miss Bell; and he was laid upon a mattress in one of the cabins fainting—dying, it seemed to me. Then there was a murmur among the passengers, of such a nature that Captain Harness found he must make some show of a fight, or it would be done without him; and accordingly he took hold of a very blunt cutlash, looking precious pale, but making-believe to tuck up the wristband of his shirt, to have free play for killing six or seven of the mutineers. As for the passengers, all mustered, there was about eighteen of them; and had they been well armed, numbers being about equal, I don’t think we should have had much the worst of it; but ever so many of them had no arms at all, and I began to turn over in my mind what was to be done. I had a pretty good jack-knife; and not having much faith in the pistol, I was about to trust to the bit of steel, same as Sam Brown, who had one with a spring-back and a good seven-inch blade, so I says to Tomtit: “P’r’aps you’d like the pistol, sir;” and he took it quietly and earnestly, tapping the back, to make sure the powder was up the nipple, and I thought to myself, that’s in the right hands, anyhow. “Are you ready?” says the skipper; for they were evidently collecting up above, and some one fired a pistol down the skylight, but none of us was hit. “Not quite, sir,” I says. “Steward, suppose you hand out some of them knives o’ yours; and I’ll trouble you for the big beef-carver, as I spoke first.” Mr Ward turned round and smiled at me; and I gave him a nod, turned up my sleeve too, and then laid hold of the big carver, which did not make such a bad weapon, being new, sharp-pointed, and stiff; while my idea had put a knife into a dozen hands that before had nothing to show. “Pile more mattresses and hammocks up,” said Mr Ward; for it was plain that neither the skipper nor Mr Wallace meant to do much towards what was going to take place; and then I saw the doctor give one look towards where Mr Bell was lying, and run across, as if to see how he was; but he hurriedly caught hold of Miss Bell’s hand, and I could see that he spoke, while, as she drew her hand hastily away, she gave a strange frightened sort of look at him. Next moment he was back at my side, just as the cabin-hatch was flung open, and the shuffling of feet told that the mutineers meant to make their rush. Story 2--Chapter VIII.It was a rush, and no mistake; for they had been priming themselves up with rum, I should think, for the last hour or two, till they were nearly mad; and with Van at their head, they came on, yelling like so many devils, more than Englishmen, though certainly half of them were from all parts of the world. There was no time then for thinking, and before you knew where you were, it was give and take. We fired as they came on; but I did not see that much harm was done, only one chap falling; while, as they returned it, Mr Wallace gave a cry, and clapped his hand to his shoulder, dropping at the same time his cutlash, which Tomtit laid hold of, for he had just shied his pistol, after firing it, right at Van’s head, only missing him by half an inch or so. Van dashed right at the skipper like a cat, and with one cut sent him down, when he turned upon me, to serve me the same; but I was too quick for him, and as I jumped aside, his cutlash hit the bulkhead and snapped in two. I believe it would have gone hard with him then, for that carver was sharp, and my old blood was up, but in the struggle I was driven back; and the next thing I saw was Mr Ward drive that skewer of his right through one fellow’s shoulder, and then starting back, he fired three shots from his revolver, but with what effect I never saw, for two of the piratical rascals were at me, and it was all I could do to keep them at a distance. I fetched one a chop across the back of the hand at last, though, and sent him off howling and cursing; and then managing to avoid a cut, and sending my arm out, I caught the other right in the chest, and down he went like a stone; when, to my surprise, I found it was only the buckhorn handle I had hit him with, the blade having flown out, and gone goodness knows where. There was no time to choose who should be your next enemy, for two or three were at you directly, and there I was at last, fighting best way I could with my fists, driven here and there, with the planks slippery with blood, and men, some wounded, some only stunned, lying about for you to fall over. I kept casting an eye at Mr Ward, and could see that he was fighting like a hero; but all at once I made a jump to get at him, for I saw Van creep up behind, while he was defending himself from a big fellow with a cutlash, and though I shouted to him, it was of no use, for the poor young fellow was cut down just as I turned dizzy from being fetched to the deck with a crack from a marlinespike. Story 2--Chapter IX.When I came to again, my head was aching awfully, and I found myself lying upon the deck, with old Sam Brown dabbing my forehead with a wet swab. Close beside me was Bill Smith, and the sight of him alive did me so much good that I jumped up into a sitting position, and gave his hand a good shake. But, there, it was for all the world like having boiling lead poured from one side to the other of your head, and I was glad to lean against the bulkhead again. There were half-a-dozen of the crew keeping watch over us, while Sam whispered to me that six bodies had been shoved out of the port—three being passengers; as to the rest on our side, Mr Ward’s seemed the worst wound, but he, poor fellow, was sitting up pale and anxious, with his handkerchief tied round his head, and evidently, like me, wondering what was to happen next. I could not help noticing soon after how well the women bore it all; hushing and chattering to the children to keep them quiet, and doing all they could to keep them from noticing our wild and wounded faces. They were all huddled together in the big cabin, while, with the exception of the men on guard, the mutineers were on deck. From the slight rolling of the ship, it seemed that they had altered her course; but my head was too much worried and confused for me to notice much, and that day slipped by, and the night came—such a night as, I pray God, I may never again pass; for the cabin-hatches were closed upon us, and none of the men stayed down, but after serving round some biscuit and water, and some rank bad butter at the bottom of one of the little tubs, they went on deck, though we soon found that a couple of them kept watch. It was a sad night and a bitter, for as soon as darkness came down upon us, the poor women, who had held up so well all day, broke down, and you could hear the smothered sobbing and wailing, till it went through you like a knife. I believe they tried all they could to keep it in, poor things; but then ’tain’t in ’em, you know, to keep up long; and then when the children broke out too, and wanted all sorts of things that they couldn’t have, why, it was awful. We had no lights, for they wouldn’t give us any, so we all had to set to, to try and make the best of everything; but we couldn’t, you see, not even second best, try how we would. “Only a bit of a cut, sir,” I says to Mr Ward, who was going round and doing what he could in the dark for we chaps as had got knocked about. “I sha’n’t hurt. See to Bill Smith here. Tell you what it is though, sir—you won’t catch me at sea again in such a Noah’s Ark as this here.” “Hush, my man,” he says, “and try all you can to help.” “In course I will, sir,” I says; and then, hearing a growl on my right, I says: “That ain’t Bill, sir, that’s Sam. He’s all right: nobody can’t hurt him, his blessed head’s too thick.” Directly after the doctor felt his way to Bill Smith, and tied up his head a bit, while I was wondering what to do for the best, listening all the time to women wailing, and little ones letting go, as if with the full belief that they’d got the whole of the trouble in the ship on their precious little heads. What seemed the best thing to do was to quiet some of them; and if it had been daylight, a sight or two of my phiz would have frightened ’em into peace; but how to do it now, I didn’t know. “Howsoever, here goes for a try,” I says; and I groped my way along as well as I could, expecting every moment to be deafened, when I turned half mad with rage, for some one yells down the skylight: “Stop that noise!” and at the same moment there was a pistol fired right into the wailing crowd; then there was a sharp clear shriek, and directly after a stillness that was awful. “It was a cruel cowardly act,” I heard some one say then close to me; “but, Miss Bell,”—And then directly came the young lady’s voice saying: “It is almost as cowardly, sir, to speak to me in this way, when I am so unprotected.” “By your leave,” I says gruffly, and I felt a little hand laid on my arm. “Is that you, Mr Roberts?” says Miss Bell, and I could feel her soft breath on my cheek. “It’s old Tom Roberts, without the Mister, ma’am,” I says, “and at your sarvice. What shall I do?” What could I do? Rum question, wasn’t it? When, if she didn’t put a little toddling thing into my arms—a bit of a two-year-older, as was just beginning to cry again, after the fright of the pistol; but I turned myself into a sort of cradle, got rocking about, and if the soft round little thing didn’t go off fast asleep, and breathe as reg’lar as so much clockwork! “Well done you, Tom Roberts,” I says, after listening to it for about half an hour; and do you know, I did feel a bit proud of what I’d done, being the first time, you see, that I’d ever tried to do such a thing; and so through the night I sat there with my back to the bulkhead, and with my head all worried like, for now it was me groaning, and now it seemed that I was crying like a child, and then people were telling me to be quiet, only I wouldn’t, for I had mutinied, and was going to kill Mr Ward, and marry Miss Bell, and things were all mixed together, and strange and misty, and then thicker still, and at last all was blank, and I must have gone off to sleep, in spite of my trouble, for when I opened my eyes, it was broad daylight again, and then the first thing they lit on was a little chubby, curly-headed thing in my lap, watching me as serious as could be, and twisting its little hand in my beard. I hadn’t eyes for anything else for a little while, but as soon as I did take a look round, all the troubles seemed to come back with a jump, for most of the party were asleep; there they all were, first-class passengers and steerage passengers, all huddled together, no distinctions now. Old Sam was snoring away close alongside of the skipper and Mr Wallace, and strange and bad they looked, poor fellows; while up at the far end sat Miss Bell, bending over her brother, who lay on a locker; but whether she was asleep or not, I couldn’t tell. But there was something else took my attention, and that was, that though all the other berths seemed empty, one had some one lying in it, and that berth I could not keep my eyes off, for it got to be somehow mixed up with the firing of that pistol down the skylight and the sharp cry I had heard; and so from thinking about it all, I got it put together in a shape which Mr Ward afterwards told me was quite right, for a little lad of nine years old was killed by that cowardly bullet, and it was him as I saw lying there so still. By degrees, first one and then another of our miserable party roused up with a sigh, and then sat staring about in a most hopeless way; all but Mr Ward, who went round to those who had been wounded, saying a cheering word or two, as well as seeing to their bandages; but it was quite by force that he had to do the skipper’s, for his wound had made him light-headed, and he took it into his poor cloudy brain that Mr Ward was Van, and wanted to make an end of him. People soon got whispering together and wondering what was to be done next, for they seemed to be busy on deck, and of course we were all very anxious to know; but when Sam Brown got a tub on one of the tables, and then hauled himself up, to have a look through the skylight, he came down again rubbing his knuckles and swearing, for one of the watch had given him a tap with a marlinespike; and after that, of course no one tried to look out. I, for one, expected that they would have taken advantage of having their own way to have a reg’lar turn at the spirits; but no: they certainly got some up, but Van seemed to be driving them all with a tightish hand, so that they were going on very quietly and reg’larly, as we found, for by and by they serves out biscuit and butter and fresh water again; and not very long after, Van sung out down the hatchway for me to come up; and knowing that if I didn’t go he’d send and fetch me, I went up, and sat down on the deck, where he pointed to with a pistol. Then he ordered up Sam and Bill, and four sailors who were on our side (lads only), and the skipper and Mr Wallace, one at a time, till we were all set in a row, with them guarding us; when, with his teeth glistening, Van walks up to the skipper, and hits him on the head with the butt-end of his pistol, so that the poor fellow fell back on the deck. “Set him up again,” says Van savagely; and a couple of the mutineers did so, but only for Van to knock him down once more; and he did that four times over, till, when they set the poor captain up again the last time, he fell back upon the deck of himself, being stunned like. It was enough to make any fellow burst with rage; but what can you do when there’s half a score standing over you with loaded pistols? and, besides, trouble makes people very selfish, while we all knew how Van was having his bit of revenge, cowardly as it was, for the way the captain had treated him. Last of all, Van goes and puts his foot on the skipper’s neck, and I made as though to get up, for I thought he was going to blow his brains out; and bad and cowardly as the captain had been, I couldn’t a-bear to see him hit when he was down without trying to help him; but it was of no use, for I was pulled back directly, and all I could do was to sit and look on. All at once, Van turns a breaker on its end, jumps on it, and, sticking his arms a-kimbo like a fishwoman, he begins to spout at us; and fine and fierce no doubt he thought he looked in his red nightcap, and belt stuck full of pistols. “Now, my lads,” he says, “we’re going to have some of the good old times over again: take possession of one of the beautiful isles in the Pacific, and sail where we like under the black flag, free as the day, with none of your cursed tyrants to make men sweat blood and work like dogs, but all free and equal. We’ve done the work, and captured the ship, and you’ve acted like thieves and curs, and sided with them as will be ready to kick you for your pains. As for you, Wallace, curse you! you have always been a cur and a tool; but we shall want help, and you can come if you like; while, you others, we’ll look over what’s gone by, for you did fight like men. So, what do you say?—will you join us, or take your chance to reach land in one of the boats with the lot below?” The young lads all looked at me, to see what I’d say, for no one took much notice of Mr Wallace. Bill Smith, too, who was much better, he looks at me; and I s’pose old Sam meant to do the same, but when I turned to him, all I could make out was the whites of his eyes, till he turned his head on one side, and I got a sight of one eye, when he turned his head t’other way, and then I see t’other. It was very plain that they meant me to be spokesman; and seeing that was to be the case, and that, after a fashion, they left me to decide, I just turns it over in my own mind for a hit, and seeing as I should be wanted in the boats to help make the land somewhere, as they was to be loaded with a set of the helplessest beings as ever breathed—why, I says: “T’others can do as they like; as for me, you never asked me at first; and as you’ve done without me so far, why, you can do without me now—till you gets to the gallows,” I added, but so as they couldn’t hear me. And, though I hardly expected it from the lads, they said they’d do as I did; while, as for Bill and Sam, they always was a pair of the helplessest babbies as ever breathed, and left me to think for ’em ever since we first sailed together—indeed, I don’t fancy as Sam ever had any thinking machinery at all. Howsoever, they said as they’d stick by me; and Van gave a curse and a swear, and a blow or two at us; and then, after a bit of ’scussion, in which women was named two or three times, and Van and another party was quite at loggerheads for a time, he gave his orders, big and bounceable like, and telling us to lend a hand, he made ready to lower down one of the boats. Story 2--Chapter X.Two boats were lowered down, and my two mates and me and the four sailors was to man ’em. They let down Captain Harness, wounded and half mad as he was, into one boat, and Mr Wallace the mate into the other; and then a couple of compasses, and some breakers of water, a bag or two of biscuit, and a tub of butter were shoved in. Then came the job of getting the passengers over the side. The men were ordered up first, and, some wounded, some savage, some weak and disheartened, they were made to take their places, six of the mutineers keeping guard with cocked pistols and drawn cutlashes. I believe, though, in spite of their weapons, that a little English pluck was all that was needed to save the ship; but no attempt was made, and, trembling and frightened, the women and children were ordered up, and then the boats were loaded. “Now, then, down with you, and shove off,” says Van Haigh, showing his cursed white teeth, and pricking at poor Sam Brown with his cutlash, just out of malice like. And you should have seen Sam’s eyes that time! He never spoke, but it’s my opinion if he’d had the chance, he’d have shaken Van’s precious body until the silver rings he was so proud of had dropped out of his yellow ears. But, as I said before, Sam didn’t speak; he only lays hold of the side rope, and lowers himself into the boat, already too full; Bill Smith dropping into the other, in spite of his wound. “Now you!” roars Van to me, for I was standing hesitating, and I don’t mind saying that a cold chill ran all through me, for just then I heard the click of his pistol cock, and I knew he was taking aim at my head. But I mastered myself, and wouldn’t turn round; for it was an important time, and there was much to think about. There was poor Mr Ward, with his head bound up, held by two of the mutineers; and poor Tomtit, with his knees to his chin as he sat upon the deck; and of course they weren’t going, for the boats wouldn’t hold any more. And there was the fat passenger, as cried when we left home; and last of all, Miss Bell and her brother below. It didn’t take me long to make up my mind, for it seemed to me as it would never do for me and my mates to go and leave them in their trouble, for maybe they’d be sent afloat in a little boat next, and wouldn’t know how to work her; so, half-expecting every moment to drop with a bullet through me, I says: “I’m blest, my lads, if I ain’t had about enough of it. While the old skipper was aboard, I did my duty by him and them as was under him; but now there’s a new skipper, I don’t see what call there is for me to go afloat with a set o’ lubbers in a crazy boat. You, Bill Smith, and you, squinty Brown, can do as you like. Captain Van,” I says, turning to him, “if you’ll shove that pistol away, I’ll stop aboard.” “Hooray!” shouts half a dozen of the fellows; and I could see Van looking me through and through with them dark eyes of his; but I don’t think he got much below the skin either, and besides, he was a bit tickled by me calling him “captain;” so he puts the pistol in his belt, and the next minute Bill and Sam was aboard again, looking half-puzzled like. Then the mutineers gave a bit of a cheer, and the passengers groaned at us; and, to make matters right with them on board, I jumps on the taffrail and groans again, and calls the poor beggars “swabs”—God forgive me!—for shoving off in so lubberly a way, with their oars dipping anyhow, nohow, one after the other in the water, and the boats not trimmed. It was a cruel trick, but I meant it all for the best; while, what to do about old Sam, I didn’t know, for he was growling and swearing to himself like some old tiger-cat, and I was afraid he’d show his teeth and claws every moment; but he kept quiet. As for poor Bill, he seemed misty and dazed, never speaking, but sitting down on the deck to lean his head against the side. Then Van seemed more at rest, for, giving his orders, the men uncocked their pistols, after making-believe to blow the fat passenger’s brains out, and making the perspiration run down his face, mixed up with tears, for he began to pipe his eye terribly. “Lower ’em below,” says Van; and the fat passenger saved ’em the trouble; while, when they were letting down Tomtit, whose hands were tied, and they were going to let go, they found his legs was already at the bottom, and then his head disappeared, but only to pop up again the next moment like a Jack-in-the-box, to see what was going to be done to the doctor. “Ain’t he a rum beggar?” I says to one of the blood-thirsty devils at my side, all to make friends, you see; and he laughed, and so did two or three more, for another of ’em made a cut at the poor chap’s head with his cutlash, to make him bob down the hatchway again, which he did, though only to come up again, till, finding it wasn’t safe, he kept down, and we didn’t see him no more just then. The poor doctor was the next to take their attention; and, seeing how cut up the poor fellow was, I’d have given something to have gone and shaken hands with him, and told him what I felt, and at first I hardly dare look him in the face. They lashed Mr Ward’s hands behind him, and I saw his lips quiver as he kept on casting an eye at the cabin-stairs. I knew well enough what he was thinking about, only I daren’t look at him much, for there were plenty watching me suspiciously enough, and, let alone not wanting to be knocked on the head, I felt that to do any good for the passengers, I must throw them as had the upper hand off the scent. I was leaning against the bulwarks, making-believe to look on, cool as could be, and screwing my old mahogany phizog into what I meant to be a grin of delight at our freedom, but I know it must have been about the sort of screw that a fellow would give when lashed to a gun for a round dozen. Mr Ward saw me grinning, and sent such a look at me as made my face grow as long as a spoon; but that wouldn’t do, and I daren’t give him any signal, so I laughed it off, and, pulling out my box and opening my knife, I goes up to him, and I says in a free-and-easy way, “Have a chaw, mate?” and made-believe to cut him one. “You infernal traitorous scoundrel!” he shouted, and in spite of his lashings he made at me; while, making-believe to have my monkey up, I up with my knife and made a stroke at him, sending it through his pilot-coat and into one of the side-pockets, dragging at it, to get it out again, and keeping it hitched the while, till some of them laid hold of me by the arm, when, struggling and swearing, I hit out with my left hand, and caught Mr Ward upon the chest, sending him down upon the deck, when I tried again to get at him, but they held me fast. “I’ll let him know,” I spluttered out; and then Brassey, Van’s right-hand man, gives the order, and three of his mates drags Mr Ward down the hatchway; when I pretended to be better, and only kept on muttering and scowling about like a dog that’s lost his bone, till ten minutes after, when I got a pannikin of grog, and sat looking at what was going on. Story 2--Chapter XI.I don’t think I’d any plans made; my only idea was, that when they sent the three or four others off, me and my mates might seize another boat, and row after them, the same night, for they wouldn’t get very far, as I knew, unless a fresh breeze sprung up, and took us away. Certainly the two boats that had gone were loaded deep, but they were not making a mile an hour; and it seemed plain enough to me that unless they could answer for its being calm till the poor wretches were picked up, if they ever were, the brutes on board had murdered ’em one and all, men, women, and children, by a slow kind of torture. “Not very smart crews, matey,” I says, pointing with my knife over my shoulder to where the boats were slowly rising and falling, and then I fished out a piece of chicken from a tin case of the skipper’s, and went on eating away as if I hadn’t a care on my mind. “Peg away, my lads,” I says to Bill and Sam; but Bill couldn’t touch a snap. Sam made up for it, though; and after plenty of hard work and fighting, and two days on biscuit and water, and that rank yellow grease sailors get for butter, one’s teeth do get rather sharp. “Now, if you’ll just sarve another tot o’ grog round, cap’n,” I says to Van, as I wiped my knife on the leg of my trousers, “I shall be about done and ready for work.” Some of the fellows laughed, and Van said something about my not being such a bad sort after all; but I could see as he did not trust me, which, I must say, was quite right, and the only right thing as I ever saw in the blackguard’s character. I soon found that though they’d all doubled the Cape a good many times, there wasn’t a man with navigation enough in him to tell where we were, or how to carry the ship on her course; while, though I don’t believe I could have worked a reckoning right, yet, somehow or other, I fancy I could have shoved that old ship’s nose into the harbour for which we were bound. Their plan seemed to be to crack on due south till we’d got high enough, and then to steer west, and get into the Pacific best way we could. I give them my bit of advice when it was asked, for I thought that the more we were in the track of ships, the more likely we were to be overhauled; but they would not have it my way; and Van giving his orders, a lot of us sprung up to make sail. When lying out on the main-royal yard, I run my eye round and quite jumped again, for, bearing down towards where the boats were crawling along, there was a bark with every stitch of canvas set. Sam saw it too, for he grunted; but I give him a kick, and down we came, our vessel feeling the breeze now, and careening over as the water began to rattle under her bows. I felt more comfortable after that, for though I did not for a moment think that the ship I had seen would overhaul us, still I felt pretty sure that she’d pick up those poor creatures in the boats, and save them from a horrible death. There was no doubt about having seen the bark, but from the deck never a glimpse was got of it; and we went bowling along in capital style, just, in fact, as if we had been a honest ship on a good cruise. Having nothing particular to do, I went below, and the first place I came to was the cabin that had been fitted up for Mr Butterwell’s birds; and on getting to ’em, there they were, poor little things, fluttering and chirping about with their feathers all rough, for they’d got no water and seed. Quite a score of ’em were lying dead in the bottom amongst the sand; and after giving the pretty little things water, and seed, and paste, I fished out the dead ones in a quiet, methodical sort of way, turning over something in my mind that I couldn’t get to fit, when I feels a hand on my shoulder. “Going to wring their necks?” says Van, for it was him come down to watch me. “Not I,” I says. “They’ll do first-rate to turn out on the island we stops at. Sing like fun.” “Look ye here, Roberts,” he says, “we’re playing a dangerous game, and you’ve joined us in it. Don’t play any tricks, or—” He didn’t say any more, but looked hard at me. “Tricks!” I grumbled out; “I’m not for playing anything. I’m for real earnest, and no favour to nobody.” “I only said don’t,” says Van; and he went up again. “A suspicious hound,” I says to myself; and then I began to turn over in my own mind what I had been thinking of before; and then having, as I thought, hit upon a bright idea, I hugged it up, and began to rub it a little more shiny. You see what I wanted to do was to get a word with Mr Ward, and how to do it was the question. I knew well enough that I should be watched pretty closely, and any attempt at speaking would be put an end to most likely with a bullet. I rubbed that thought about no end, and next morning I goes to one particular cage where there was a linnet that I had seen Mr Butterwell play all sorts of tricks with; and instead of feeding it, I quietly took out the panting little thing, carried it on deck, got up in a corner under the bulwarks, and waited my time, watching the while to see if any one had an eye on me. Then I let the bird go; and it flitted here and flitted there with a tiny bit of paper fastened under its wing, till, as I had hoped, there came from out of the cabin skylight a particular sort of chirrup, when the bird settled on the glass for a moment, and then dropped through the opening where it had been broken. Now, on that bit of paper I had printed what I knew wouldn’t hurt me if the bird was seen by the mutineers, for I was afraid to say much the first time; and as I had written on it, “Let him go again,” so sure enough up he came ten minutes after, and watching my chance, I followed him about till I caught him, and took him back to his cage, and gave him plenty of seed. Van had taken possession of the cabin next to where his prisoners were, and the skylight being partly over his place, a word with Mr Ward was out of the question; while such a little messenger as I had found would go to his master when called, perhaps without calling, specially after him being fortunate enough to catch sight of the bird the first time I tried. All that day matters went on as usual, a strict watch being kept over the prisoners, and more than one as I fancied having an eye to me. On and on we sailed due south, and the weather kept wonderful all the time; but there seemed no sign of starting the rest of the passengers off in a boat, and I began to feel worried and troubled about their fate, and more anxious to get on with the plans I was contriving. Now, not being a scholar, I had a deal of trouble over the note I got ready for the next morning, for, you see, I wanted to say very much in a very little room, and in a way that shouldn’t betray me if it was to fall into the wrong hands. It was meant for Mr Ward, but I knew Tomtit would get it; but that didn’t matter, as they were fellow-prisoners, and what I wanted was to put the doctor on his guard, and also to let him know that all I’d done was so as to be alongside of him and Miss Bell. So I says in the note: “Honoured Sir,—Keep a bright look-out ahead, and haul every sheet taut. Them as you thought was sharks a showing their teeth warn’t only shams. Take all you gets, and clap ’em under hatches, and, whatever you do, don’t be deceived by false colours, nor hail ships as seems enemies.” “There,” I says to myself, when I’d got that printed out careful, “if he can’t make that out, he can’t understand nothing;” for, I put it to you, what could I have said clearer, and yet made so as no one else could understand? It seemed to me that I’d just hit the mark, and the next thing was to get it to him. Who’d ever have thought, I says, that that long doubling-up chap, as we all made such fun of with his little birds, would have turned in so useful; and then I got what you big people call moralising about everybody having their use on earth, without it was mutineers, whose only use seemed to me to be finding work for the hangman. I got no chance to send my note that day, through people being about; next day, too, nothing came of it; but early the next morning, soon after daybreak, I got my little messenger out, tied the paper to his wing with a bit of worsted out of my kit, and then going on deck, I let him fly, but so as not to take the attention of the chap at the wheel, I started him from up in the main-top, where I made-believe to have gone to have a smoke. There was a watch of three forward, but they were all half asleep; while as for him taking his trick at the wheel, he kept on nodding over his job, and letting the ship yaw about till she went anyhow. Bless the pretty little thing! When I first opened my hand, it only sat there looking at me with its bright beady eyes, and then it was so tame, it hopped upon my shoulder, to stay a few seconds, before flitting from rope to sheet and shroud, lower and lower, till it perched upon the cabin skylight, and rattled out a few clear crisp notes, like a challenge to its master, who, I felt sure, would be asleep. My only hope was that the little thing would flit through the big hole I made, and stay in the cabin till Tomtit was up. But I was wrong, for the bird had no sooner sung its sweet note, putting one in mind of old boyish days when we used to go bird-nesting, than I saw a hand thrust up through the broken light, and after a little fluttering, the bird let itself be caught, when, knowing that my job was done, I came slowly down, and walking aft, stood and talked to the chap at the wheel. “Hollo!” I says, all at once, “there’s one o’ my birds got loose;” and running forward, and making a good deal of fuss, I captured the little linnet, for it never flew far at a time, having been tamed and petted by Mr Butterwell till it was almost like a little Christian. That day I watched my chance, and got hold of what powder I could, making a little packet of it in my silk neckercher; and when it was dark, I managed to drop that through the skylight as I went whistling along the deck. Next thing to be done was to get some weepuns, for it seemed strange to me if we six true men couldn’t somehow make one chance and turn the tables on the rascals who had taken the ship. Counting them up, I found there was about seventeen—long odds enough, unless we could trap half of ’em, and fight ’em a part at a time. Then I thought the odds would be fair, for fighting with right on our side, I considered that we were quite as strong as eight of the others. But the job was to get hold of weepuns, for they never let neither me, nor Sam, nor Bill Smith have neither cutlash nor pistol, only take our turn at the wheel, or trim sails, otherwise we were treated right enough. Some of the chaps grumbled, saying, that now Van had made hisself captain, times were as hard as they were before; but that wasn’t the case, though now he’d got the ship, he didn’t mean to lose her again if he could help it, and seemed to me to be always on the watch for everything. As to trusting either of we three to go down below to the prisoners with rations, that was out of the question, either he or Brassey attending to that, and more than once I heard high words, and Mr Bell talking in a threatening way when Van was below. Now, if it had been at any other time, we should not have sailed a hundred miles without being boarded by some one; while, if a Queen’s ship would only have overhauled us now, it would have been salvation for us: but no; day after day slipped by, and not a sail came near. All I had managed to drop more into the cabin was only a couple of table-knives; when one dark evening, as I lay under the bulwark, hid by a bit of sail, I saw Van come out of his cabin, go and talk to the chap at the wheel, see to the course of the ship, and then go forward. I heard him talk to the watch for a minute, and then he went below forward, when, running upon all-fours, I was at the cabin-hatch and down below in a jiffy. As I expected, there were plenty of pistols and cutlashes there, where he had had them put for safety; and if I could have opened the big cabin door, I might have pitched half a score in before any one could have said “Jack Robinson;” but there was something to stop me, for I had crossed the cabin and had my hand on a cutlash before I knew that Brassey was in the cabin with his head down upon the table, and seemingly fast asleep. I should think I stood there with my hand stretched out for a full minute, not daring to move, expecting every moment that Van would come back, or else that Brassey would wake up. That minute seemed to be stretched out into quite an hour; and then, feeling that it was now or never, I shoved one after the other six pistols inside my shirt, when taking another step to reach where some cutlashes stood together in a corner, I knocked one down, when I threw myself on my hands and knees, so that, if Brassey started up, he would not see me at first. Then as I stooped there trembling with anxiety, I heard him yawn, push the lamp a little farther on the table, and a minute after, he was snoring loud. I waited as long as I dared, and then rising lightly, I got hold of one cutlash, and then of five more, out of a good twenty as stood there; staffed as many cartridges out of the arm-chest into my pockets as they would hold; and then, after doing all this by fits and starts, expecting every moment that Brassey would hear me, I turned to go. I’d crept across the cabin, and reached the door, when I heard a step on the deck, and drew back; but the next moment it had gone, and after waiting for a minute, with the cutlashes tightly held under my arm, I made another start, when my heart seemed to sink, for I heard a sort of husky cough I well knew, and Van had his foot upon the stairs. There was only one way for safety, and that I snatched at, for in another few seconds Van would have had me by the throat, and all would have been over; but, darting back, I laid hold of the lamp, dashed it down upon the sleeping man’s head, and then leaped aside. Story 2--Chapter XIII.That trap took just as I expected. Brassey leaped up like a wounded tiger; and, cutlash in hand, Van bounded down the stairs, when the two men were locked in a sharp tussle in an instant, leaving the way clear for me to slip up, gain the mizzen shrouds, and make my way up into the top, where I laid my treasures; went hand over hand by the stay, and got down to the deck again in the dark by the main shrouds, without being seen, and joined the party that was being collected by the noise and shouting in the cabin. “Curse you! bring a lantern. Help here, or he’ll end me!” roared Van in a smothered voice; but not a man dared go down till I offered; and, making-believe to be afraid to venture without a cutlash, one of the chaps handed me one; and with the lantern in my other hand, I went cautiously down, chuckling to myself to find that Van and Brassey had been mauling one another awfully; and if it had not been for my coming, there’d no doubt have been an end of one of the scoundrels; for, woke up wild and savage from a drunken sleep, Brassey had attacked Van fiercely, and when I got to them, had him down and half-throttled. There wasn’t a man that didn’t grin as Van cursed and raged at Brassey for a drunken fool, starting up and knocking the lamp over; while Brassey swore that Van struck him first, showing his bleeding head as a witness; but after such an up-and-down fight as they had had in the dark, no one took much notice of what he said, every one, themselves included, taking it for a false alarm; and we all separated, leaving Van and Brassey sore and savage as could be. Knowing how frightened some of the prisoners would be, I says out loud to one of the chaps as we passed the broken panes: “Don’t s’pose the captain thought there was so much muscle in old Brass.” “Hold your tongue,” says the other; “he’ll hear you.” And then we both laughed and walked forward, me wishing the while that those below could have known of my luck, but satisfied that they would feel that there was nothing particular the matter. Feeling pretty sure that Van would not be on deck again that night, I waited about three hours all in a tremble, as I lay in my hammock, for fear I should go to sleep, and forget to fetch the weapons; and even then, spite of all my pains, lying there and trying to keep awake, if I did not drop off, and dream that they were missed from the cabin, and that Van was going to shoot Mr Ward for stealing them. Then I awoke with a start; and it seemed to me that I had been asleep for hours and hours; and I slipped out of my hammock to find, from the men talking on deck, that I couldn’t have been more than five minutes. So I crept down again and into my hammock; and once more I dropped off, do all I would to stop it; and this time I dreamed that the wind had changed, and all hands had been piped to shorten sail, when they came across the arms in the top. Then I awoke again with a start, to find that I could hear the buzzing of voices still upon the deck. But I wouldn’t risk it any more, though I feel sure I shouldn’t have slept above half an hour at a stretch; and sitting down by my hammock-head, I took a bit of baccy, and sat listening to old Sam snoring, till it seemed as if it would never grow late enough to go. At last, I felt that if I meant to act, it must be at once, or there would perhaps be a change in the watch, and I might lose my chance; so I crept up on deck, taking with me a handful of lashing; and as soon as I felt the breeze, I knew that I was not a minute too soon; for with a good mate or captain, orders would have been given directly to shorten sail. The watch were well forward, and, as usual, the one at the wheel was half asleep, or, being now much lighter, he must have seen me going up or coming down from the mizzen-top where I had left the arms; but no; I got them safe down; and then, crawling like a cat along the deck, I threaded the lanyard I had through the trigger-guards of the pistols, and lowered them one at a time, all six, and was just drawing the lanyard back after loosing one end, when I felt a warm hand from below grasp mine, and on drawing it away I was able to pass the cartridge and six cutlashes down one after the other, to have them taken from my hand. I’d hardly done before I heard a step on the deck behind me, and, dropping flat down, I gave a half-roll over, so that I lay close under the combing, but not daring to move, for it was the watch coming to the man at the wheel. Story 2--Chapter XIV.Every morning reg’lar Van used to take two of the chaps down below to Mr Ward, and he used to doctor their wounds for them, as I used to hear; for, seeing that they never felt disposed to trust me near the prisoners, I used to hang away, and never attempt to go near; but I kept on sending a line now and then by the little bird, telling them that I was making my plans, and that they were to wait a bit. I used to tell them too to feed the linnet; and it got to be so at last, that if I wanted it to take a message, all I had to do was to take away its seed and water over-night, and let it loose at daybreak, and it would go as straight as possible to the broken skylight, flit down, and come back in about ten minutes. I know it must have been a disappointment often to them below; but then I daren’t often be sending notes, for fear of being noticed. Then, too, I was puzzled a deal about things: I wanted to know what Van meant by keeping his five prisoners, and what I ought to do for the best. Try and seize a boat, and get them aboard, or to get the upper hand when there was only the watch on deck. This last seemed the most likely way; for going afloat in an open boat, with the chance of being picked up, is queer work, and the sort of thing that, when a man has tried once, he is well satisfied not to try again. So being, as it were, head man, I settled that we’d seize the ship; and after talking it over, the first chance I had, with Sam and Bill Smith, they quite agreed, thinking about salvage, you see; and then I began to reckon up the stuff I’d got to work with. To begin with, there was Mr Ward, who was as good as two; so I put him down in my own mind two. Then, going on with my best men, there was Sam, who was also good for two, if he was only put in the right way. Then Bill Smith, who hadn’t quite got his strength again; so I put him at one and a half. Next came Tomtit, who was right enough, no doubt, in his way; only being so long and wankle, ((Lincolnshire dialect), weak, sickly) I couldn’t help thinking he’d be like a knife I used to have—out and out bit of stuff, but weak in the spring; and just when you were going to use it for something particular, it would shut up, or else double backwards. That’s just what I expected Tomtit would do—double up somewhere; so I dursn’t only put him down at half a one. Then there was the fat passenger who cried. He showed fight a bit in the scrimmage; but I hadn’t much faith in him; there was too much water in him for strength; so I dursn’t put him down neither for more than half. While as for Mr Bell, poor chap, and his sister, they were worse than noughts, being like in one’s way. So you see that altogether I had to depend on two and two was four, and one and a half was five and a half, and a half made six; and another half, which I put to balance the two noughts to the bad, making, all told, what I reckoned as six, and myself thrown into the bargain. And now came the question: How was we good men and true to get the better of seventeen of they? I turned it over all sorts of ways. Once I thought I’d get the doctor to poison the lot, only it seemed so un-English like, even if the others were mutineers and pirates, while most likely they wouldn’t have taken the poison if we’d wanted them to. Poison ’em with rum, so that they couldn’t move, might be managed, perhaps, with some of ’em, if the stuff was laid in their way; and that might answer, if a better plan couldn’t be thought of. To go right at them without a stratagem would have been, of course, madness, though Sam Brown was for that when I talked to him, saying, thinking wasn’t no use, and all we had to do was to get first fire at ’em twice, and shoot twelve, when we could polish off the other five easy. Now, that sounded all very nice; but I was afraid it wouldn’t work; so I gave it up, and asked Bill Smith his opinion; but he said he hadn’t none. I’d have given something to have had a long palaver with Mr Ward; for I think we might have knocked up something between us that would have kep’ out water; but a talk with him being out of the question, I had to think it out myself; and all I could come at was, that the best thing would be to leave a bottle or two of rum where the watch could find it; and then, if we could shut down the hatches on the others, we might do some good. That seemed the simplest dodge I could get hold of; for it looked to me as if the more one tried to work out something fresh, the more one couldn’t. I watched my chance, and wrote out all my plan, and started it to Mr Ward; and this time, I contrived, when no one was looking, to drop my letter down the skylight, telling him that he was to send me an answer by the bird, writ big, so as I shouldn’t make no mistakes in the reading of it. Next morning, as soon as I was on deck, I found that I was too late; for Van and a couple of the chaps were hunting the linnet about; while, as it flitted from side to side of the deck, you could see a bit of white paper tied under its wing, and it must have been that as set them on after it. I knew well enough that if the bird was caught, it would be all over with my scheme, and p’r’aps with me; so I went at it with the others, trying to catch the little thing, contriving, though, to frighten it all I could, so that it flew up into the rigging; and being nearest at the time, I followed it out on to the main-yard. “Be careful, Roberts,” says Van, as I went cautiously out till I was right over the water, the linnet going right off to the end; but I got my feet in the stirrups and followed on, expecting to see it flit off to another part of the rigging. I’d made up my mind what to do if I could get at it; for, though I liked the pretty little thing, there was a wonderful deal depending on whether it was caught or not; while all the time I was abusing myself for not being on deck sooner. I’d let the bird’s cage be open the night before, ready for it to get out; and now it was plain that it had been down to the cabin, and Mr Ward had sent me an answer. But it was no use to grumble; there was the bird before me, and if it would only keep still for another half-minute, I thought I saw my way clear. Plenty were now watching me from below; and, fortunately for me, instead of flitting off, the little bird crouched down upon the yardarm; so that, creeping nearer and nearer, I got quite within reach, when, making a dash as it were to catch it, I knocked the poor little thing stunned into the sea, making a sham slip at the same time, and hanging by my hands. “Yah-h-h! you clumsy lubber!” roared Van; and then to one or two about him: “Lower the dinghy, and pick up that bird.” “Lost, after all,” I growled to myself; but we were going pretty fast through the water; and by the time we had heaved-to, and let down the boat, the little thing was out of sight, and I felt that for this time we were safe. Story 2--Chapter XV.Our every-day life on board the Sea-mew had not much in it to talk about. Of course the ship was badly handled, and there was a deal of drunkenness aboard, though hardly ever before night. In the daytime they just did what little making or shortening sail there was, and then smoked and ate and drank just as they liked. After the first few days, they had the fat passenger up, and made him cook; and hang me if one day I didn’t see him crying into the soup he was making! But I always kept at a distance, never speaking to him, only kept watching my chance. From what the others said, I learned that Mr Bell was only just alive; while some of them used to talk about his poor sister in a way that made me set to work more than ever to get my plans right. I got to think at last, that if I waited much longer, I should never do anything; so one day, when I had a chance, I pitched a bullet down into the cabin, wrapped in a piece of paper, and on that piece of paper was written “To-night!” “Now, if he’s the man I take him for, all them pistols will be loaded, and the cutlashes ready for action,” I says to myself; and leaving that to Mr Ward for his part, I warned Sam and Bill, and then set to do mine. I’d been saving up on purpose; and as soon as it was dark that night, and just before they set the watch, I put two good big bottles of rum where I thought they would find them, and then waited to see. All things turned out just as I could have wished; for going by an hour after, I could tell from the chatter going on that the three chaps were at the rum, which they supposed to have been left by mistake by those who had the watch the night before. Some of the chaps were carousing in the fore-cuddy, where they could easily be boxed up; and the others were with Van and Brassey, all card-playing in the skipper’s cabin. It seemed almost a hopeless case, now it was come to the point; but I felt that making up one’s mind was half the battle, and I was up now, and meant to do or die. Bill and Sam were on deck, and knew their parts well enough: Bill to manage the chap at the wheel; Sam to shut up the party in the fore-cuddy; I meaning to secure the cabin-hatch; and then I thought if that was done, we should have time to settle and lash the watch, who ought to be half-drunk, leaving our hands free to keep those quiet who would be trying to get out of the cabin. You see my plan was to get Mr Ward up through the hole I made in my fall, if I could get the fellow away who was stationed there; and now it was that I trusted to the rum; for before now Van had been content to have a chap at the cabin door, leaving the watch to make sure the prisoners did not get on deck. I was about right; for we three had not been squatting long under the bulwarks before one of the watch calls out “Harry!” and the sentry fellow goes to where they were busy with the rum. The next moment I was at the broken skylight, and whispered down the one word “Tools;” for I was afraid them playing in the other cabin might hear. Mr Ward was ready; and the next minute I was under the bulwark again with the arms the doctor had passed up; and we three had each a pistol in our belts and a cutlash in our hands before the sentry chap came back. The night was not so dark as I could have wished; but it was dark enough for us, and, as I expected, the sentry couldn’t resist the smell of that rum, and in a very few minutes he was along with the others again, and did not seem disposed to come back. So now seeming to be my time, I said the word. Sam crept off one way, Bill the other, with their orders that there was to be no bloodshed, only as a last resource; then I went to the skylight, keeping the side nearest to the cabin-hatch, when I turned cold all over; for I heard Van’s cough, and he came up the stairs as if to look out. There was nothing else for it: I knew that if he missed the sentry, he would most likely spoil my plan; so, at the risk of being seen by the watch, I stood boldly up in the sentry’s place, took a step this way and that way, and then began to whistle softly to myself like. It was a bold trick, but Van was taken in; he could see some one was on guard; he could hear the watch; and the face of the man at the wheel was plain enough by the binnacle-light, so that all seemed well. “If Bill only makes his attempt now we’re undone,” I thought. But all kept still aft, and then I shuddered like for fear Van should speak to me, but he did not say a word, only turned to go down again, and my breath came freer, as I felt for the lashings I had got ready for the prisoners I hoped to make; while I’m afraid if Van had come up to me then I should have been his death, and then have secured the cabin-hatch. As I said before, I breathed freer, and turned my attention to where the four men were at the rum; but the next moment I was taken all aback again, for Van came up once more, stood still as if listening, and then saying to me: “Keep a sharp lookout,” he turned once more to go. “Right,” I mumbles out, as if my mouth was full of baccy, and the next minute I could hear his voice quite plain through the other half of the skylight. “Now or never,” I says to myself, in dread lest that watchful cur should spoil my chance; and, going down on hands and knees, I leaned through the hole. “With a will! Mr Ward,” I says, and grasping my arms, next moment he was through and lying on the deck aside me, just as we could hear the scrooping noise of Sam closing the hatch of the fore-cuddy. “Quick, Mr Butterwell,” I says, and Tomtit had hold of my arms, but just as I expected, he shut up when he was wanted, for there was a slight scuffle by the wheel as I gave a heave, the watch stopped their chatter to listen, and as I rose up like to hoist Mr Butterwell out, he went back into the cabin with a crash, falling against the bulkhead which separated it from the cabin where Van was, and if I had not darted to the hatch, he would have been up with the three hell-hounds at his back. But he was too late; I had the hatch over, and then turned to help Sam, who, like a brick as he was, had gone at the watch. I need hardly tell you that Mr Ward was already in the thick of it; and Bill coming up, having silenced his man with a tap on the head, it was even odds, four against four; but the fellows fought savagely, and it was not until the sentry was cut down, and another had a bullet through him, that the other two were lashed fast neck and heels together. Now all this time they had been thundering and battering away at both hatches, but I was in hopes that they would hold fast till our hands were at liberty, when a crash told us that something had given way, and running aft, we heard two pistol-shots fired quickly, one after the other, and could see the flashes and a figure standing by the hatch. My hand was raised to fire, but I dropped the pistol, for I remembered that it was empty; and sword in hand, with my blood up, I dashed at whoever it might be, but only to miss my aim, for he darted aside and caught my cutlash with his in an instant. It was cleanly done, that guard; and I shouldn’t have thought he had it in him, for it was no other than Tomtit, who had climbed out well armed, and sent a couple of shots through the hole Van and his party had battered through the hatch. He was a friend in need, and a friend in deed that time, for if he hadn’t come up as he had, it would perhaps have gone precious hard with us. But there was no time to be lost, for I expected every moment that they would find their way up on deck from one of the cabin windows; and now, in place of wishing for darkness, we prayed for light, so as to be able to see our enemies, and from which side we should next be attacked. I wanted Mr Ward to take the lead, but he would not—only asked to be set his work, so I set him at the cabin-hatch; Bill I planted on the poop, to cut down the first man who should try to climb on deck; Mr Tomtit over the two bound men of the watch, and the wounded; and Sam over the hatch of the forksel, for, though we’d got the upper hand, there was no knowing for how long it would be, and besides, we all knew well that if once the savages below got us under, there would be no mercy for us now. What a night that was, and how long the day seemed coming! I was going about from place to place to see if I could make out danger anywhere, when Mr Ward called to me, and made a communication, whose end was that, with Mr Tomtit’s help, we drew the two prisoners to the cabin-hatch, and left him to guard them and the cabin, while Mr Ward and I dropped through the skylight quick as thought. But they heard us through the bulkhead, and directly after we heard a hand on the door, and the key move, to which I answered with a shot, crashing through the panel, and whoever it was dropped, while for reply another bullet was sent back. Mr Ward had darted to the inner cabin, while I kept guard, and now appeared with Mr Bell and his sister, she holding him up on one side, Mr Ward on the other. “Quick as you can, sir,” I whispered, “for there’s some devilment ’most ready;” when mounting the table himself, Mr Ward put a chair ready, and helped Mr Bell and his sister up beside him. He then drew up the chair, planted it firmly, and was through the skylight in an instant. He then asked Miss Bell to mount, but she would not until after her brother; and with the doctor’s help, the poor feeble young fellow was dragged up. Then I heard a sound as startled me, and running to the table, I caught Miss Bell in my arms, and dragged her down and to one side, just before three or four pistol-shots came tearing through the bulkhead, making the splinters fly in all directions. “Now, up, quick,” I said; and leaping on to the table, I dragged her on, lifted her in my arms to Mr Ward, and the next minute she was in safety, when, expecting another firing, I jumped down again, and went on my hands and knees. Just as I expected, they fired again; but being dark, their shots did not tell; and before they could reload, I had jumped upon the table and climbed out to the rest. “It’s a wonder almost that they did not try to make them safe before,” I said, panting; and then, having made Mr Bell and his sister comfortable under the bulwarks, we began to take steps for making ourselves a little surer. For instance, we laid a tarpaulin on the cabin skylight, and a spare sail over, that, and then again on the sail we coiled all the rope and cable we could. The cabin and forksel hatches we served in the same fashion, so that it was quite impossible for any one to get up that way; while just about daybreak, when a head appeared over the rail close to the wheel, the chop Bill Smith gave it sent it back again in a moment, so that there did not seem much to fear at present. Daylight, and then glorious sunrise—a big word that for a common sailor, but sailors, as a rule, think a deal of the bright sunshine and the dancing waters. And a bright morning that was, cheering us up all, so that with a grin I went up to Mr Ward and axed his pardon for hitting him; axing too, at the same time, how he found himself after the stab I put in his pocket. But there, instead of laughing, if he didn’t turn almost like the fat passenger, for his lip went all of a tremble, and his voice turned husky as he shook me by both hands and says: “God bless you, Roberts, and forgive me for ever doubting so true a man.” “Don’t you be in a hurry, sir, with your thanks. Maybe we ain’t half-done yet. We’ve divided the ship, and got the deck and a breaker of water, and there’s what rum them four didn’t finish; but they’ve got the below-decks and all the prog, unless we can find some anywhere else. We’ve got the upper hand, but now the question is, can we keep it?” “No, you can’t,” shouts one of the fellows lying tied on the deck; “so—” He didn’t say any more, for Mr Tomtit fetched him a slap on the face with the flat of his cutlash, and then the fellow lay and muttered most savagely. We had a bit of a refresher in the shape of some cold water, with a dash of rum in it; when Mr Ward said that there were some provisions in their cabin below, and volunteered to get them if I stood at the skylight opening with two loaded pistols, to command the door that Van had kept on the outside. I did not much like running any more risks than we could help; but food I knew we should be obliged to have, and if we could get it without attacking Van and his party, so much the better; for though I knew that it must come to that, I wanted to put it off as long as I could, and I was just making ready to go to the skylight with Mr Ward, when there was a shout from Mr Tomtit, and at the same moment a bullet struck the bulwark close to where Miss Bell was sitting. Story 2--Chapter XVI.Mr Ward sprang like a tiger towards the cabin skylight, where, through a slit in the sailcloth and tarpaulin, you could see a hand holding a pistol twisting about to get back again; but, though it had most likely come through easy enough, the edges of the stiff tarpaulin now closed round the wrist, and though the owner seemed to struggle hard, and having a peephole somewhere, shrieked out as Mr Ward came on, there was no saving the hand, upon which the young doctor’s cutlash came down like a streak of lightning, cutting it to the bone, when it was at last dragged through, leaving the pistol upon the deck. Now, this came from the side of the skylight over the mutineers’ cabin, for so far they did not seem to have got into the one where Mr Ward and his friends had been; and seeing this, Mr Ward again volunteered to go down, after we had moved Mr Bell and his sister for safety under the port bulwarks, thrown another sail or two over the skylight, and then bowsed up a bit of an awning, for the sun came out, and beat heavily upon the poor sick man. But having been made a big man of now, and being consulted on all points, I give in against anybody going down, for, says I: “You’re too vallable a man to be spared, Mr Ward, sir, and one can only go down after that there prog when we’re reg’lar dead beat. Let’s hoist a signal of distress, in case we’re seen by any other ship, keeping on ourselves steady like, watching well, and taking things coolly as we can.” My advice was taken, though if it hadn’t been, I don’t know as I should have gone and hanged myself; and there we sat, listening to the movements of the mutineers below, and wondering what devilry they were planning, till all was still as still, the wind falling calm, and the sea turning like glass; while the only sound we could hear was the twitter, twitter of Mr Tomtit’s birds down below, which, by good luck, had got plenty of water and seeds, for, knowing as the little things had sense enough only to eat just as much as is good for them, I had well filled their boxes the day before. “D’ye hear the birds, Roberts?” says Mr Tomtit to me, just as if there was nothing else in the world but birds, and I do believe as he thought they was the most important things living, save only for a bit when he was thinking of Miss Bell, and perhaps, after all, he thought her only a kind of sweet song-bird as he would like to have along with the others. However, “D’ye hear the birds, Roberts?” he says. “Yes, sir, I do,” I says. “I was just a-thinking about ’em when you spoke.” “Were you?” he says, brightening up, and laying down his pistol. “Yes, I was,” I says, “but don’t you lay down that there bullet-iron, for you never know how soon you may want it, sir. While we’re like this, sir, you’ll have to sleep with both eyes open, and you a-nussin’ a pistol; while as to what you gets to eat, you must pick that up on the point of your cutlash.” “But about the birds,” he says eagerly. “How many are there left?” “Well, sir,” I says, “I can’t rightly say; but I was a-thinking that if we could get ’em up on deck by shoving a hole through the wires with a boat-oar, there’d be enough of ’em, with ’conomy, to last us all for eight days.” “What?” he says, staring. “Why,” I says, “’lowancing ourselves to one big bird apiece, or two little uns, we could keep ourselves alive for a bit.” He didn’t say a word, but looked just for all the world as if he thought it would ha’ been a deal more like the right thing to do to cut one of us up small to feed his little cock-sparrows and things, if they ran short of food. So, just out of a bit of spite like, I says to him dryly: “You might try Miss Bell with them two doves now, sir,” I says. “Hold your tongue!” he says quite fierce, and looking to see if Mr Ward had heard. “Wouldn’t make a bad roast, sir, and this here sun’s hot enough to cook bullock.” “Will you be quiet?” he says. “And she’d pick them bones, and thoroughly enjoy—” “Roberts,” says Mr Ward, just then in a whisper, “what’s that?” I’d heard the sound at the same moment as he did, and for a moment it didn’t strike me as to what it might be; but the next instant I was at the side with a cocked pistol in my hand, an example followed by all the others, for, through our bad watching, two men out of the fore-cabin had dropped softly overboard, and were making for the poop, when I hailed them to stop, covering one with a pistol the while. He saw that it was of no use, so he asked for a rope directly, and heaving him one, we had him aboard lashed and lying down upon the deck beside his mates in less than no time; but the other one swam on and on, diving down every moment so that I shouldn’t hit him. But I could have done it, if I’d liked, though I did not want to shed more blood, so we let him swim on till he began to paddle behind and shout to Van for a rope, when we could hear the cabin windows opening. “Here, this won’t do, sir,” I says; and “Hi! here, you, Sam,” I shouts, “don’t you leave that fore-hatch,” for he was coming away and leaving it unprotected. So he went back; and getting hold of a line, I makes a running noose, and going right aft, I tries to drop it over the fellow’s head; but he kept dodging and ducking under, till at last I made a feint, and the water being clear as glass, just as he was coming up again I dropped the noose over his head and one arm, drawing it tight in a moment, and there he was struggling like a harpooned porpoise. I thought I’d lost him once, for a stroke was made at the line with a cutlash out of one of the cabin lights, but I soon towed him out of reach, when Bill Smith threw him the end of a rope, and we had him aboard too. Now, what with two wounded men and four prisoners, we had our hands more than full, so after a short bit of consideration, it was decided to risk the opening of the fore-cabin-hatch, and make the four men go down one at a time; we, for humanity’s sake, keeping the prisoners who were wounded. So we took the four with their hands lashed, and then, with Mr Tomtit only on guard, we four stood ready; and Mr Ward giving the signal, Sam raised the hatch, when one fellow leaped up savage, but I had a capstan-bar ready, and down he went again quicker than he came up. Then another tried, but I served him the same, when they stopped that game, and began to fire up the hatch, till I sang out that we were going to send down their mates. But sending down was one thing, and making them go was another; for the first fellow turned rusty and wouldn’t stir; till, seeing that half measures were no good, I nodded to Mr Ward, and he put a pistol to the fellow’s ear, and at the same time I gave him just a tap on the head with a marlinespike, when he went down sharp, and the others followed. Sam clapped the hatch down so quickly that the last chap’s head must have felt it; but that put a stop to their firing up at us; and this being done, we felt safer, though none the less compelled to keep a strict watch. And so the day wore away—not a long day at all—for rather dreading the night as I did, it seemed to come on quickly, and this was the time I felt sure the mutineers would make their attack, perhaps to get the better of us. At one time I was for taking to the biggest of the two boats left, and leaving them to it; but without provisions, it was like running to meet death, and I was obliged to give up that idea, for, after all, it would only have been to get away till such time as they could overtake us and run us down. The night turned out bright and starlight; and after making the best arrangements we could for the watch, we patiently waited for any new dangers that might befall us. Even Mr Bell, sick as he was, insisted upon taking his turn at watching, and having now plenty of arms, he sat with his sister by him to guard the fore-hatch, Miss Bell going from time to time to the side, and keeping an eye to the cabin window. Two or three times, too, she came to me, and talked about our position, in whispers; and somehow or another she seemed to grow upon one, until I swore to myself that I’d die sooner than the poor lass should be left to the tender mercies of the scoundrels who had seized the ship. We had two or three false alarms during the night, but that was all; and the next day broke, finding us all half-famished; and now it seemed that either we must attack Van’s party in the after-cabin, or one of us must go down and try for some provisions. Mr Ward said he would go, and he turned towards Miss Bell, as if expecting her to say something, but she never looked his way at all; so after making our arrangements, we lifted the tarpaulin, Mr Ward dropped through, and in a short time handed up to me several tins of preserved meat, some biscuit, and a couple of bottles of wine. He made four journeys before I heard even a movement in the next cabin, and then there came a muttering as of some one waking from a drunken sleep, and we all made up our minds that, having plenty of rum below, the cabin party had had a drinking night of it. I never expected to see him up on deck without a few shots being exchanged; but there he was safe; and after dropping the tarpaulin, the provisions in moderation were served out, and no meal was ever more welcome. As for the fellows in the fore-cabin, they were evidently well provided, for we heard nothing of them all that day. Though we swept the horizon again and again, not a sail appeared in sight, so that I was not much surprised to see Miss Bell having a good cry all to herself, when she thought no one could see her; but I did, though I would not let her know that I was looking. Story 2--Chapter XVII.Now you might have thought that, under all circumstances, these four passengers would have been as thick as possible together; but no; Mr Bell seemed to have an idea of what Mr Ward’s feelings were, and though polite and pleasant, that was all; and though Miss Bell never showed a sign of giving him a friendly look, I couldn’t help thinking that she did not quite dislike the young doctor. That evening we had an ambassador from the fore-cabin in the shape of the fat passenger, who brought a message to say that they wanted water below. We let him come up after they had knocked at the hatch for some time, but all we could do was to pass him on with the message to Van, who swore out something, but would give no farther answer; while as to going back, the messenger would not think of that. And our force was strengthened, so Mr Ward said, but I only thought of the meat tins and biscuit. Night again, and we set our watch, wondering whether we should get through it alive, for it was like living over one of those volcanoes, I thought. There might be an explosion at any time; and though I didn’t make any show of my trouble, I was a good deal worried; and as for them as had been wounded, they seemed suffering as much as me. Mr Ward had the first watch, with Bill Smith and Mr Tomtit; and when he woke me up, it was from a pleasant dream of home. But he reported all right; and with Sam Brown and Mr Bell for my mates, we began the second watch. I said Mr Bell, but really it was his sister, for the poor chap seemed to me to be sinking, though, with the bravest of hearts, he fought against all of it, and held up to the last. I’d been talking cheerfully to Miss Bell about there being safe to be a vessel cross our course next day, when suddenly she seized my hand, held it tightly, and pointed to something rising slowly up from the cabin skylight. Sam Brown must have seen it at the same moment, for he left the wheel, and the vessel fell off before the wind. “What’s that?” whispered Miss Bell; and do you think I could speak? Not a word; for there, slowly making itself known, was an enemy which I had never counted upon seeing, and I couldn’t help giving a groan, as I felt that now we should be beaten indeed. Accident, or done on purpose, I could not tell, but the ship was on fire, and the smoke in a steady column rolling slowly up, while I had hardly roused up the sleeping men, before, with a shout, Van, closely followed by Brassey and the other two, came over the poop on to the deck. Fighting seemed no good, after what was taking place before us;—our enmity seeming quite small now before this trouble,—and besides, what was the use of having a struggle for what would probably be burned to the water’s edge in the course of an hour or two; so giving way, we slowly backed up under the bulwarks, leaving the mutineers free to act as they pleased. It was a bad plan, for the first thing they did was to loosen the men in the forksel, when out they came yelling and savage, but only to stand and stare for a few moments at the smoke rolling up through the tarpaulin, which now began to blaze. That it was an accident, was now plain enough, for, taking no notice of us, they began, in a hurried sort of way, to draw buckets of water and throw over it; then two men got to one of the pumps, but what they did seemed a mere nothing. Then a panic seemed to seize them, and throwing down the buckets, they began busily to get one of the boats ready, throwing in a compass and anything they could lay hands on, some fetching rum and biscuit up out of the cabin, and all in a hurried frightened way, as if not a moment was to be lost, and they might expect the ship to blow up any minute. All at once Mr Ward darts forward, shouting, “Lend a hand here, and we shall save her yet!” and for the next quarter of an hour no one would have thought there had been a mutiny, for we were all working away side by side against what was an enemy to both parties; and bucket after bucket was poured into the burning hole, but with no more effect than if the buckets had been thimbles. The fire and smoke came rolling up, and rising higher and higher, while, as if to fan the flames, a sharp wind blew seemingly from all four quarters at once, making the flames roar again; and first one and then another threw his bucket into the fire, and began running below for provisions to put in the two boats. I think Mr Ward was the last man to drop his bucket; and that was when the flames had risen and risen in a column of fire to lick the rigging, and then began leaping from rope to rope, and sail to sail, till the mizen was one blaze of light, brightening the sea far and wide, till it looked like so much golden oil, without a ripple upon it anywhere. They soon had one boat lowered, and were busy over the other, getting in everything that they thought would be useful, we all helping; and it was in this boat that Van seemed to intend going; for, letting Brassey take charge of the other, and telling him to push off and lay-to, he kept back four of his party, and helped with a will. All at once I missed Mr Tomtit; but he appeared directly after; and I knew what he had been doing—letting loose his birds; and there were the poor little things fluttering about, and uttering strange cries, as they circled round and round the flames, some only to scorch themselves and fall in; but, as he said, it was better to set them free, than leave them there in their cages to be burned. At last the boat seemed to contain all that could be put in, and Van’s four men were waiting, when the fat passenger, who was all in a tremble, stepped forward to get down; but Van shoved him back, saying, “Ladies first;” and, crossing to where Miss Bell was kneeling beside her brother, he caught her roughly round the waist, lifted her, and made towards the side, when she shrieked out to me to save her. “Best go in the boat, miss,” I had half said, when, like as I supposed she did, I seemed to see through Van’s designs, and stepping forward, there was a short scuffle, and I had the panting bird tight in my arms; while, before any one could take a step to stay him, Van slipped over the side into the boat, and stood up in her, shaking his fist at us, and laughing, like a demon as he was, as he told us to “burn and be damned.” It was hard to realise it at first; but there were both boats rowing slowly away, plainly to be seen in the golden light shed by the flames; and we eight souls, one a fair delicate woman, left to burn upon that roaring furnace of a ship. Story 2--Chapter XVIII.I don’t care who the man may be, but it is a hard struggle for any one to see two roads open to him, the first leading to life, and the second to a horrible death, and for him to force himself to take the last one. I’m not going to blame Sam, nor I ain’t a-going to blame Bill Smith. It was only natur’s first law, when Sam says to me just one word, and give his head a nod seaward. “Hot!” says he; and he took a header off the ship’s side, and strikes out towards the last boat. Then, “Come along, matey,” says Bill; and he takes his header, and swims arter the boat—and that was two gone. As for Mr Tomtit, he was so taken up with his poor birds, that he didn’t seem to care a bit about hisself, till I goes up to him and says: “Hadn’t you better try and make the last boat, sir?” “Make the boat, my man?” he says in a puzzled sort of way. “No; I don’t think I could make a boat.” “Swim arter it, then,” I says. “No,” he says mournfully; “I can’t swim a stroke.” “More shame for you,” I says. And then I felt so savage, that I goes up to the fat passenger as was sitting crying on the deck of course, and I says, says I, giving him a sharp kick: “Get up,” I says, “will you! You’re always a-crying.” “O, Mr Roberts,” he says, blubbering like a calf—“O, Mr Roberts, to come to this!” “Go overboard, then,” I says savagely; “for now you’ve pumped all that hot water out of your hold, you can’t sink.” Now all this time the fire was roaring away, and sending a glow in all directions for far enough round, while the sparks kept on dropping like a shower. It was a beautiful sight in spite of the horror; and I couldn’t help looking at it a minute, till I turned round and saw Mr Ward standing quite still, looking down upon Miss Bell, who was on her knees by her brother’s side. But as I was looking, she got up pale and quiet, and looked first at me, and then at Mr Ward, and then she says quickly: “Why do you both waste time? Why do you not swim after the boat?” “And you?” said Mr Ward in a slow husky way. She did not answer, only turned for a moment towards where her brother lay with his head on a cushion, and pointed to him with a sad smile, and then, holding out her hand to me as she sank upon her knees again by her brother’s side, she said: “God bless you, Mr Roberts! Good-bye.” I took her pretty little white hand, and kissed it, and then stood back; for she held out her hand to Mr Ward; and he took it and kissed it, and then sank on his knees by her side, holding her hand tightly; and when she said once more, “Go!” he only smiled and kissed her hand again. It was so still, in spite of the fluttering roar of the flames, that I could hear every word he said, as he almost whispered to her: “Eady, darling, I’ll never leave you.” The next moment her face was down in her other hand, and I could see that she was sobbing, so, feeling all wet-eyed myself, I turned away, when if there wasn’t that fat passenger blubbering away more than ever! “Get up, will you,” I says; “I never did see such a thundering swab in my life as you are.” But all he says was: “O, Mr Roberts!” All at once I heard Miss Bell give a great cry; and, turning round, I saw that Mr Bell had started up, and she was clinging to him: then he held out his hand to Mr Ward; but before he could take it, the poor fellow fell back. He was free of his trouble. Now you know I wouldn’t have cared if that there fat passenger would only have kept out of my way; but there, the more trouble one was in, and the more he was wanted out of the way, the more he piped his eye, and got just where you didn’t want him. He always was a nuisance from the day he first came on board, and to make it more aggravating, he would look just as if he was made on purpose to kick. “Why won’t you get out of the way?” I says; for all this time I’d been turning over in my own mind a way to get out of the burning, if we could, and there was that great fat chap a-sitting on a hencoop that I wanted. “O, Mr Roberts!” he whines again. And he cries: “O, look there!” And I did look, when, if there wasn’t my two poor mates just coming up to the last boat—we could see it plainly; and if one brute didn’t fire at ’em, and another stand up with the boat-hook in his hand, ready to shore the first one under. “God help ’em,” I says, “for I can’t;” and then, Mr Ward helping me, we got a couple of loose spars overboard, and some rope to lash with, and a couple of hencoops; and as fast as Mr Ward, and Tomtit, and the fat passenger, who seemed to have been warmed into life by the fire—as fast as they lowered the stuff down, I, who was over the side, lashed it together, to make something like a raft. I couldn’t do much; there wasn’t time, for the fire gained upon us; and now there was no one at the helm, the ship had swung round so that the smoke and flame all came our way. I felt, too, that it was only to make life last another day or two, for there was no getting at any prog, as there wasn’t a scrap of anything in the forksel; for I went down to see when I first thought of the raft. However, I shouted to them to lower down the water-breaker by the foremast, and they did, and then Mr Tomtit came over the side, and the fat passenger rolled down somehow, and I shook my head, for the raft went low on his side. And now there was only Mr Ward and Miss Bell to come, and partly by coaxing, partly by dragging, he had got the poor girl to the side, when she turned her head to take another look, as I thought, of the poor fellow lying dead there; and as Mr Ward stood there holding her, the pair showing out well in the bright light of the burning ship, I could not help thinking what a noble-looking couple they made, and then I shouts: “Lower away, sir;” when, as if startled by my words, Miss Bell darted away from Mr Ward, when in a moment there came a roar as of thunder, the raft heaved and cracked under us, and beat against the side of the ship, while something seemed to strike me down, so that I lay half-stunned upon the grinding coops and spars. But I contrived to get on my knees, struggling from under some heavy weight, and then, every moment getting clearer, I understood that the ship had blown up, and that Mr Ward must have been dashed from the gangway, and fallen on to me. And Miss Bell? I dursn’t ask myself the question again, but shoved the raft away, and began to paddle with a piece of board, so as not to be drawn down when the vessel sank. In place of being all bright light, it was now pitch darkness, except just here and there, where pieces of burning wood floated on the water, and then hissed and went out. From being so near, I suppose it was, we escaped anything falling upon us; and feeling pretty safe at last from being drawn down, I was trying to make out the lines of the ship by the smouldering hull beginning again to show a flame here and there, when a husky voice close by shouts out: “Help! help!” “Here,” I cries, hailing; and the next moment we were lower still in the water, with Bill Smith aboard, and he says, says he: “Tom, I was about done.” “It’s only put off another hour or two, Billee,” I says. “And where’s old Squintums?” “On your weather-bow,” says a gruff voice, and then we went down another two inches with Sam aboard. Well, there was some comfort in doing one’s best to the last; and I began to feel Mr Ward about a bit; but he was coming to fast, and the first thing he wanted to do was to paddle back to the ship; and, thinking that we might pick up some pieces to lash to our raft, I gave way, dangerous as it was, though a very small sight worse than our present position. So we paddled up to the smoking mass, that I expected would settle down every moment, and then, getting hold of the side rope, Mr Ward and I got on deck. It was not dark, for there was a little flame here and there, and in some places there was the glow of a lot of sparks, but we hadn’t come to look for that; and, as we stood there forward amongst the smoke, I felt my heart heave, as, with a groan that seemed to tear out of his chest, Mr Ward threw himself down by the figure he was looking for. She seemed to have ran back to throw herself upon her brother’s body, and there she was, with her arms round him, and though pieces of burning wood lay all about, she did not seem to have been touched. It was a sad sight, and in spite of all our troubles, I had a little corner left for the young fellow, who had clasped her in his arms, when he started up with a cry of joy. “Here—water, Roberts, quick!” he cried; and almost as he spoke, Miss Bell gave a great sigh, and we gently lowered her on to the raft, when, getting hold of a bit of burning bulwark floating near, I squenched it out, and managed to lash it to us, so as to ease one side. Then we paddled slowly away, and lay by waiting for the morning, to get together more fragments, and make a better raft. Story 2--Chapter XIX.Morning came bright as ever, and I gave a bit of a laugh as I saw Mr Ward and Miss Bell sitting tight hold of hands; for, in place of seeming to fear him, she was now looking up to him as if for protection. Sam and Bill, poor chaps, were in a queer state, for when they had reached the boat, Van had struck at them with the boat-hook, till they had turned and swum back; and now they lay on the raft with their poor heads seeming to ask Mr Ward to come and help them; and, with Miss Bell to assist him, he did all he could for them. The boats were nowhere in sight; but just about a quarter of a mile from us lay the ship, smoking and burning just a little, her poop and midships a deal shattered, main and mizzen gone, and lying alongside, but foremast standing with nearly all the rigging. As to the fore-part, it did not seem much damaged; and, as she hadn’t sunk so far, it struck me as she wouldn’t sink at all while it kept calm; so, Mr Ward being of my opinion, we paddled our raft back once more. We two got aboard with Mr Tomtit; and what with one of the pumps left rigged, and a bucket or two, we found we got out pretty well every spark and bit of flame we could find; made our examination amongst the black steaming ruin, and found that the powder on board, or whatever it was, must have taken an upward direction, and blown a good half of the deck off. Still, so far as we could see, there was no fear of her sinking; so, clearing a spot forward, we began to think of getting the others aboard. But, first of all, we got a bit of sailcloth, and laid it over the poor gentleman as lay there stiff and stark, so as not to distress his sister. Now the fat passenger had offered to help us, and no doubt would have done his best; but hang me if he could any more mount the side of the Sea-mew than fly. He panted and puffed for a bit, but that was all, and then he sat down again on the raft, puffing and talking to Miss Bell when he could get her to speak, which wasn’t often. As for Bill and Sam, poor chaps, they couldn’t hold a head up; and I was very glad when we’d got a bit of an awning rigged up, and Miss Bell on board and underneath it. Next thing to be done was to find some biscuit and water, Mr Ward said, for they’d finished what was in the breaker, the two poor chaps being that thirsty they kept asking for it, and Miss Bell not having the heart to refuse. So Mr Ward said water; but, speaking for myself, I said rum. After a long hunt, we found, just where we should never have thought to see it, a tin of preserved meat, and had a hard fight to open it, but we managed that; and then I was in luck soon after, and turned up a bag of biscuits, half burned and smoked, half sound; while a little hard work laid bare a water-cask, and I filled the breaker. It was quite warm, that water was, but in our state every drop was so much bottled joy, and after a good hearty draught, I was ready for any amount more work. So, after forgetting them for some time, I goes up the foremast, and had a good look out for the two boats; but not a sight of them could I see, after a good half-hour’s watch; when I came down, and helped Mr Ward and Mr Tomtit to get all the burned wood overboard. Now, done up as we were, it wasn’t reasonable to expect a vast deal of work done; but we kept steadily on till it was dark, when we finished the tin of meat, had a biscuit and some water apiece, settled that I was to keep the first watch; and then, without a mutineer within reach, the others lay down to rest, for we had settled, Mr Ward and me, that Mr Bell should be buried at daybreak. Well, I took my place, and helped myself to a quid, leaned over the bulwark, and watched the clear bright stars, now in the sky, now as I saw them shining in the water, and then I got asking myself questions about how it was all to end, when I thought I should be more comfortable sitting down. So, picking out a spot, I began to reckon up how long it would be before I must call Mr Ward to relieve me; and then I thought that he’d feel as bad as I did, and want Mr Tomtit to relieve him, and then he’d watch till daybreak, when he’d relieve the birds, and Mr Ward would put a piece of fresh bandage round the turtle-dove’s head, and if the fire broke out again, the fat passenger would cry upon it till Miss Bell boxed his ears, when he’d relieve me, and I should—no, I shouldn’t—yes, I should— I started, saying to myself “I was nearly asleep,” when I took a fresh turn at my quid, and Mr Ward asked me if I’d marry him and Miss Bell, and the fat passenger could give them away, and then go and sit on the raft with me, and sink it down, and down, and down, and always going down, and lower and lower; and instead of its getting darker and darker, it got lighter and lighter, and there seemed a warm glow as from the sun, only it was the water so far down seemed to choke; and I told Mr Ward I didn’t think it quite proper, but I’d marry them if the fat passenger would not give them away, but get out of the way—and—avast, then—avast, then—yes, what?—all right— “The fire has burst out again!” cried Miss Bell. And that just while I closed my eyes for half a minute. Story 2--Chapter XX.You see there’s that in a fire, that it never knows when it is beaten: you drive it down in one place, and it comes up in another, just where you least expect it; while, after such a shock as we had had, there was nothing surprising in our feeling as most people do when there’s a fire in a ship with a mixed cargo—afraid of an explosion. There were the flames towering up again quite fiercely and always in the most savage way, just out of our reach. But if the flames could be savage, I felt that I could too, for, you see, I looked upon it as my fault, for sleeping at my post, when I ought to have seen the first flash out. So I got down amongst the smoke and steam, and as they handed me buckets of water, I placed them well, and by degrees we got the fire under again. It was just about daybreak as we turned all the glow and flame into blackness, half hidden by steam; but even then we daren’t leave off, for another such outbreak would have made an end of us. Even now, most of the cargo seemed destroyed, and it was cruel work, for everything fought against us except the weather, which certainly did keep clear and calm, or we must have gone to the bottom. But, as I said, it did seem such cruel work to have things, that we were ready to die for the want of, destroyed before our eyes. We were all worn out; but sooner than run any more risks, we kept on pouring water here and there, till it seemed quite impossible for fire to break out again; and there we were at last with the ship our own, what there was of it; but though there was a good-sized piece of the fore-deck left, and a little round the wheel, the only way to get from stem to starn was by climbing down amongst the burned rubbish, and then making your way through it till you reached the poop. By means of a little hunting about, though, we managed to get at some provisions, and among other things a cask of pork, with the top part regularly cooked. We got at water, too, and some rum; and then it didn’t seem to matter, danger or no danger, fire breaking out or mutineers coming back, sleep would have its way, and one after the other we dropped off, the fat passenger in a corner, and Mr Tomtit with his legs dangling down over the burned hold. I talked to Miss Bell and Mr Ward afterwards about my having neglected my duty, but they would hardly hear a word about it; and now I found that though we had all slept, Miss Bell had been awake and watching; but now she went into the sort of tent we had rigged her up; and Mr Ward having the same thing in his head as I had, we went and had a talk together, and an hour afterwards we had poor Mr Bell neatly wrapped in a piece of sailcloth, with some iron stanchions and bolts at the feet, and lying decently waiting for Miss Bell to wake again. She came out of her tent at sundown, looking pale and haggard; and as soon as she saw what we had been about, the tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she came and knelt down by her brother’s head and joined her hands. I did not want the sign Mr Ward made me to do as him and Mr Tomtit did, and there we knelt for some time on that calm, solemn sort of evening, with the ship just gently rolling on what seemed a sea of orange. There wasn’t a breath of wind stirring, but all was quiet and peaceful, with only Miss Bell’s sobs and the twittering of birds to break the stillness. I don’t think I said so before, but there were a many of the birds escaped the fire, and perched about on the deck and the rigging of the foremast; and when Mr Ward and I had gently lifted the body of the poor gentleman on to a hatch by the side, we drew back, and knelt down again, thinking Miss Bell might like to say a prayer aloud before we gave the body a sailor’s funeral, when one of Mr Butterwell’s robin-redbreasts hopped down upon the deck, and then giving a flit, perched right upon the dead man’s breast, and burst out into its little sad mournful song, making even my poor old battered heart swell and swell, till I was ’most as bad as the fat passenger, whose complaint I must have caught. I can’t tell you how much there seemed in that little bird’s sad song, but it was as if it took you back into the far past, and then again into the future; and weak as the little thing was, it had a strange power over all of us there present. As if that robin had started them, the sparrows began to twitter just as though at home in the eaves; a thrush, far up on the fore-to’gallant yard, piped out a few notes; and a lark flew up and out over the glorious sea, and fluttered and rose a little way, singing as it went, just as if it were joining with the others in a sort of evening hymn. And now it was that Mr Ward made a sign to me, just as he’d told me he would; and I got up and went softly to raise the head of the hatch, to let the burden it had on it slowly slip into the golden water. But with a faint cry, Miss Bell started forward, seeing what I meant, and half throwing herself upon the long uncouth canvas-wrapping, she sobbed and cried fit to break her heart. It was a sad sight, and there was not a man there who did not feel for the poor girl. I felt it so much myself that I was glad to turn away; and there we all waited till the sun dipped down below the waves, lower and lower, till he was gone, and a deep rich purple darkness began to steal over the sea. From golden orange the sky too turned from red to a deep blue, with almost every colour of the rainbow staying where the sun had gone down. Then it grew darker and darker, with star after star peeping down at us, and the smooth sea here and there rippled by a soft breeze that came sighing by. And now it was that Miss Bell’s sobs seemed to have stopped, and, leaning over her, I saw that she had gently slipped away, so that only her poor white arm lay across the body, and when Mr Ward gently lifted it, her head sank lower and lower, and we knew that her grief had been too strong for her, and she had swooned away. I’ve been at more than one sailor’s funeral, which has a certain sadness about it that seems greater than what, you know ashore, but this seemed to me the worst I had ever had to do with. Trouble seemed to have been heaped upon trouble, and though in the heat and excitement of a storm or a fight you often go very near death, yet you don’t seem to fear it as you do at a time like this was, when, as I stood over that bit of canvas, it seemed to me that I was nearer to my end than I had ever felt in all the dangers I had been through before. It was growing darker and darker; the birds had all stopped their twittering, and I was thinking and thinking, when in a slow sad way Mr Tomtit got up, and came and stood over the corpse, and tried to speak, but his voice seemed choked. He went on after a minute or two, though, and said, in a quiet deep voice, a short and earnest prayer, one that I had never seen in a book, nor heard before or since; and in it he prayed the great God of all people, who had seen the sufferings of this our poor brother, to take him to Himself, even as we committed his poor decaying body to the great deep—the Almighty’s great ocean, upon which we poor helpless ones now floated—thanking Him for His preservation of us so far, and praying that His protection might be with us evermore. And he prayed too that as it had pleased God to bereave the sorrowing sister, might it please Him to put it into the heart of every man present to be a new brother and protector to the weeping one, even, were it necessary, unto death. And then there was a great silence fell upon us all; then came a slow grating sound, a soft rustle as I raised the hatch, and a heavy splash in the water, which broke up into little waves and flashes of light, to die away again into darkness. There was more than one deep sob heard there that night from out of the darkness; and though dark, it was not so black but we could see Miss Bell at Mr Tomtit’s feet, holding his hand as he bent over her, and she seeming to be kissing and crying over it. No one seemed to care to move for a long, long time, but at last Miss Bell’s dress rustled softly as she glided away to her tent, and then Mr Tomtit went and leaned over the side. And mind, I do not call him by that name from any disrespect, for, though we had all been ready to laugh at him for his looks and ways, there was not a man there but would have gone and gladly shaken the hand which Miss Bell had kissed; and I felt vexed myself for not feeling before how good a heart the man must have who had so great a love for all of God’s creatures, that he would risk his life even for his birds. That was a sad, sad night, though the ship seemed lighter now that there was no longer death on board; and I was in such a low miserable state, that I did what seemed to me to be the only thing I could do that night,—I went and sat down beside the fat passenger. Story 2--Chapter XXI.We had no time for sadness and sorrow; there was too much to be done. I would not fly a signal at the mast-head, for fear of its bringing back the mutineers; for, though it did not seem likely that it would, I did not wish to run any risk. But with the help of Mr Ward and the others, I set to, and we made a good strong raft, and provisioned it, in case of a change of weather, for, though keeping us up well now, I felt sure that a fresh wind must send the ship to the bottom. All I thought would be of use to us I got on the raft; and I spent a many days lashing on a cask here and a spar there, and even rigged up a little mast with a lug-sail, and had an oar or two for steering. I couldn’t get myself away from that raft, feeling to want to make it perfect, which it wasn’t at all. But there it was, and the best I could make; and day after day we rolled about in the long gentle swell of the great ocean, looking for something to heave in sight. There was very little to occupy us beyond looking out, for sailing the ship was out of the question, since, if she had careened over, the water would have come pouring in at one of the rents in her side; so we waited on day after day, during which time it seemed to me that a sort of jealous feeling was springing up between Mr Ward and Mr Tomtit, for Miss Bell used to keep away all she could from the young doctor, and sit and talk hour after hour with Mr Tomtit about his birds. But Mr Tomtit, though he used to look pleased, only looked so in a quiet, sad sort of way, and I used to think that he felt it did not mean anything for him; and he’d go and feed his birds afterwards, and sigh as he did it, and always try to be good friends, as far as he could, with Mr Ward. It was a fine thing for us that we had a doctor on board, for I believe he saved both Bill Smith’s and Sam’s lives, poor chaps, for they had been sadly mauled about by the mutineers, and for days and days all they could do was to lie still and talk wildly about things. Sam in particular would rouse us all of a night, by shouting out that Van was striking him. But they both got better by degrees. Last of all, what I was afraid of happened—the wind changed, and it came on to blow a little. It was nothing more than a pleasant fresh breeze, but enough to make the sea dance a bit, and the old Sea-mew to roll and pitch, so that I was obliged to have a man at the wheel, and a bit of sail set, to keep her out of the trough; but handle her how I would, I couldn’t keep the water out, and the question got to be, how long could we wait without taking to the raft? And another question was, too, how long could we keep to the raft without being washed off? Thinking of this made me rig lines round it, and give an extra lashing here and there just where I could. The next day, there was not a doubt about what our duty was; and getting the raft round to the lee quarter, we lowered Miss Bell down, and then made ready to join her; when, more from use than anything, I ran up the rigging to take a sweep round, when—I could hardly believe my eyes—there was a brig bearing down under easy canvas, and not three miles off! We were so busy, or we must have seen her before. Howsoever, my first act now was to hoist a signal; and then, there being no time to lose, I got aboard the raft, being last man to leave the vessel; and we hoisted a bit of sail, and made towards the brig. We had not left the Mew a minute too soon, for just as we had got about two hundred yards away, a squall took her, and she bent right over, righted, careened again, and then settled rapidly down, and was gone. We were all so taken up with the sight, that, for a moment, we forgot the brig, and when we turned to her again, she was bearing away. I thought that she had seen our ship, when we hoisted the signal; but, from her acts, this could not have been the case, and now every second she was increasing her distance. We shouted, we yelled, and hoisted a handkercher, on the end of a boat-hook; but she did not see us; and gradually we saw sail after sail dip down out of sight, and we were once more all alone on the great ocean. If we had seen no ship, I should not have cared; but this seemed such tantalising, despairing work, and but for Miss Bell, I should have been about ready to give up. That night I was sitting steering our lubberly craft, when Miss Bell came and sat beside me, and, after being silent for some time, she points out seaward, and asks me if what she saw was a star. I looked at it for a few minutes, for I hardly dared to answer at first; but I felt sure directly after, as I told her it was, and a bright one for us, being a ship’s lantern. Story 2--Chapter XXII.Soon after sunrise next morning, we were laughing, crying, and acting as bad as that there fat passenger, for we were aboard a large ship, whose light had shone out like a star of hope for us; and when they picked us up, I found that the vessel was bound for Sydney. But our pleasure did not last long, for what with the exposure and excitement, Miss Bell broke down, and next day she was so far from being in safety that she was in a raging fever. Perhaps I may be right, perhaps wrong; but measuring things as I saw them, it has always struck me that, true-hearted man as he was, Mr Ward would never have won his wife after all, if it had not been for that fever; but it must have been a fine thing for him, being the only doctor within reach, to have to tend on her, and most likely save her life. It was in after-years that I saw them happily settled in Wellington; and as they had me seated there between them, they seemed to treat me quite as an old friend, as we went over together the old days, and Mr Ward told me laughingly how hard a fight he had had to win his wife. We talked long over our old troubles; and I had news for them of some of the mutineers—of how I had learned that one boat had been picked up, with the crew’s story written on their faces, for they had suffered horribly before they were saved from certain death. As for the other boat, it was never heard of more. I had news for them, too, of Mr Tomtit, whom I had seen in the street just before I left England on that cruise. He had shaken me heartily by the hand, just as if I was his equal, and taken me home to show me the collection of birds he was about to ship, with a lot of what he called baby-salmon, for Sydney. He was still a bachelor, and pressed me hard to go and see him again, and wanted me to stay dinner then; but my time was short, and I had to say good-bye, though not till I had asked if he had seen any more of the fat passenger. Mr Tomtit then told me that he had been to England, and called to see him, and shed tears when he said good-bye. I said it myself now; but he made me stop for a glass of grog, and a half-hour’s chat about our perils aboard the Sea-mew. |
|
