Chapter 27

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

A few minutes later Mr Brymer joined us, rubbing his hands.

"We shall almost have a calm in an hour, gentlemen," he said, "and smooth water, with nothing but a long heavy swell before night. I think we may all congratulate ourselves upon what we have done, for we've saved the ship."

"Not yet," said Mr Frewen, pointing at the fore-castle-hatch.

"No, not yet, doctor; but we've only one enemy to deal with now, and can devote all our attention to him. I think I can relieve two of you gentlemen now. Mr Frewen, will you fight out another hour or two, while these gentlemen go and change, and have an hour or two's sleep?"

"I'll go and change," said Mr Denning; "but no sleep to-day."

"Please yourselves, gentlemen; but you must have rest, and be in readiness for a call. Hah! that's grand; what should we do without the sun?"

For as he was speaking, a bright gleam suddenly shot almost level across the spray, which still flew over the waves, and made it flash like a rainbow. It did more, for it sent light and joy into our breasts as Mr Preddle and Mr Denning went aft, meeting Bob Hampton with some boards, a saw, hammer, and nails with which he was soon busily at work strengthening the sides and top of the hatch, nailing down board after board, and only leaving one small opening in case communication should be needed with the prisoners below, who, saving for the light filtering through a small sky-light, and also through the ventilator, were in the dark.

An hour later a sort of council of war was held in the captain's cabin, and it was decided to well nail up the hatch of the cable-tier as well, there being no dread of the men breaking out in other directions on account of the closely-packed-in heavy cargo, much of which consisted, as I said, of machinery--agricultural implements and the like--for the Antipodes. Then arrangements were made as to the men being fed with biscuit and water, just sufficient for keeping them alive, and this starvation policy it was considered would be the means of setting the mutineers thoroughly against their leader, with the probable result that they would open up negotiations, and end by binding Jarette hand and foot and delivering him up. After that, as many as the captain thought could be trusted might be released to assist in navigating the ship, and the rest could be kept in prison.

Mr Brymer was quite right about the weather; we sailed right through the circular storm, and long before sunset of what proved to be a very hot day, the ship was gently gliding up one side of a long wave, and after pausing for a moment on the top, gliding down the other, so that it was hard to imagine that we had just passed through so terrible a storm.

That evening I asked Mr Frewen to take me with him when he went into Mr Preddle's cabin to see Walters, and this resulted in his leaving me behind to sit down by where my brother midshipman lay, looking white, or rather grey as ashes.

I found him very stubbornly silent with the doctor, who did not seem to think him very bad; and to all the sharp appeals to him to try and sit up, or explain his symptoms, he only gave vent to a piteous kind of groan which worried me a good deal, for I could not help thinking that Mr Frewen was hard, and to put it plainly, rather brutal, to one who had evidently gone through a great deal of suffering, and was now completely prostrate.

But certainly it had been rather tantalising, for to everything there was this piteous groan.

"Put out your tongue," said Mr Frewen.

"Oh!"

"Well, open your eyes."

"Oh!"--long drawn out, and strange.

"Surely that does not hurt you, my lad. I want to do you good if I can."

"Oh!"

"Are you in pain?"

"Oh!"

"Does that hurt you?"

"Oh!"

"Can you feel it if I press your chest?"

"Oh!"

"Stand a little on one side, Dale; I want to look at his eyes."

I stepped back, feeling very uncomfortable, and Mr Frewen parted the lad's eyelids gently enough.

"Oh!" came more loudly than ever, as Mr Frewen looked closely into first one and then the other eye.

Another moan and groan came fast one after the other, sometimes loud and sometimes piteous in the extreme, making me shiver again as I imagined all kinds of horrors.

At first Mr Frewen was very gentle in his examination; but as Walters kept on groaning, the doctor seemed to lose patience, and in feeling the patient's ribs, testing his arms and joints, he was, I thought, unnecessarily rough and harsh.

Mr Frewen did not speak out, but kept on uttering little ejaculations; and at last he began to pass his hands over and around Walters' skull, while I shuddered, and fully expected to hear the broken bone-edges grate together from a fracture.

But the doctor let my messmate's head sink down again, quickly too, for Walters uttered a thrilling moan and let his face hang down away from the doctor, looking so ghastly and strange that I was more horrified than ever in the dim cabin-light.

I looked anxiously at the doctor, silently asking him what was the matter; but he only gave me a short nod of the head, and once more directed his attention to Walters, who lay breathing slowly in a catchy, spasmodic fashion, and I was almost about to question Mr Frewen, but he once more bent over the prisoner patient, listening to his breathing.

I saw him frown and then lay his hand upon Walters' side, and then I started, for there came so piteous a groan that I was sure the ribs must have been crushed, and I felt angry with him for not being more sympathetic.

"He went against us and played the blackguard," I thought to myself; "but he has been severely punished, and is down, so it isn't right to jump upon him."

I felt then that I disliked Mr Frewen, who must be a cold-hearted, brutal kind of man, and I was not surprised at Mr Denning the invalid showing so much dislike to him now.

"Yes, he's very bad," said Mr Frewen at last, "I shall have to get ready a mixture for him--something pretty strong too."

I was looking anxiously in his eyes as he said this, and then we both looked at Walters, for the poor fellow winced and moaned again.

"Yes," said Mr Frewen to me, but watching his patient the while; "medicine is as a rule very nasty, and the strong mixtures worst of all; but there are cases where you cannot hesitate to administer them, even if they are distasteful; and where you disguise their taste with syrups and essential oils you often do harm instead of good."

"Do you think he is very bad, Mr Frewen?" I said.

"Oh yes--very," was the reply. "Not dangerous!" I whispered.

"Yes, decidedly dangerous," he said, in the same low tone.

"Then he ought not to be left?"

"Oh yes, better left. He'll come round. There, I'm going to see how the other prisoners are getting on. I'm afraid that I am badly wanted there."

He stood looking down at the patient with his brow knit, and I noticed a fidgety movement about one of his feet.

"Oughtn't I to stop and nurse him?" I asked.

"No; certainly not. He is better alone. This kind of case does not require attention--only time. Come along," and he went to the door.

"All right, Mr Frewen; I'll come directly," I said softly.

"But I want to fasten the door," he whispered.

"I'll fasten it when I come out."

"No, that will not do; Mr Brymer said that the door was to be kept fast, and I can't go away and leave it."

"But I want to talk to him," I whispered. "Lock me in for a bit."

"And suppose he turns savage with you, and tries to get your weapons?" whispered Mr Frewen, with a smile.

"I shan't let him have them," I replied. "Besides, he's weak and ill."

"Humph!--not so very, my lad. There, I'll lock you in, and come and let you out in a quarter of an hour."

He closed and locked the cabin door sharply, and I stood there thinking what I should say to my old messmate, and feeling how awkward it was now he was in trouble. For he lay there half turned away with his eyes closed, and I heard him moan piteously again while I waited to hear Mr Frewen's departing step.

But it did not come for a few moments. Then I heard him go into the adjoining cabin, and the opening of his medicine-chest quite plainly.

"I don't believe he wants medicine," I thought. "He must be suffering from some internal injury." Though as to what part of his body the injury might be in, I had not the slightest idea.

There was a loud clink of bottle or glass, and then quite plainly came the setting down of something hard upon a shelf, the sound coming plainly through the opening we had so laboriously made when Mr Preddle was a prisoner in this cabin, and Mr Frewen and I in the next.

Then I heard a loud cough. There was a squeaking sound of a cork being thrust into a bottle, and the doctor went out of his cabin, shut the door sharply, and went off, while it was like an electric shock through me, and I stared wildly, for Walters started up, and in a vicious angry voice exclaimed--

"Brute! Beast! I only wish--"

He stopped short as he vigorously wrenched himself round.

"I thought you were gone," he said blankly. "He told you to come away."

"I stopped to help you," I said. "I did not like to have you left when you were so bad."

"No, you didn't," he cried, with a vicious snarl. "You stopped to play the miserable, contemptible, cowardly spy. It's just like you, Dale. You always were a beast!"

"If you call me a beast, I'll knock your head off!" I cried, for my temper was rising against him and against myself, for I felt that I had been imposed upon, and horribly weak and stupid in my sympathy for one who was shamming from beginning to end.

"It would take a better man than you," he snarled.

"Not it, though you are bigger and stronger," I cried. "Get up, and I'll show you."

"Get up," he groaned, "while I'm so weak and bad that I can't stir?"

"Can't stir," I said, as I realised how thoroughly the doctor had read him, and I understood now why Mr Frewen was so indifferent instead of being sympathetic. "Why, there's nothing the matter with you at all. You can move as well as I can. Get up, sneak!"

"Oh!" he groaned, "you're as great a brute as the doctor," and he turned up his eyes till only the whites showed, making him look so ghastly in the dim light, that I was ready to fancy I was misjudging him after all.

But I recalled his manner and his utterance as soon as he had made sure that the doctor had gone, and thought himself quite alone.

"Get up," I said again, "and leave off this miserable shamming. There's nothing the matter with you at all."

He groaned again, and it made me feel so angry at the thought of his believing that he could impose upon me again, that I raised my right foot, whose toes seemed to itch with a desire to kick him.

"Get up!" I cried angrily again.

"I can't, I can't!" he groaned.

"Get up," I said, "or I'll lie down by you and punch your head that way!"

"Oh, you coward, you coward!" he moaned.

"No, it's you who are the coward, shamming being injured. Will you get up?"

"What," he snarled, changing his manner again, "to fight with a miserable coward who is armed?"

"I'm not armed now," I cried, snatching the revolver I carried from my belt, and laying it on Mr Preddle's chest. "Get up, you miserable, cowardly, treacherous, shamming impostor! I'll give you some physic which will do you more good than the doctor's."

As I spoke, I gave him a heavy push with my foot.

He sprang from the bunk as if he had been suddenly galvanised, made a rush at me, and struck out with all his force, but I darted on one side, and he struck the bulk-head with his fist.

"Poor fellow, how weak he is!" I said, as I stood on my guard, and writhing now with bodily as well as mental pain, he came at me looking almost diabolical.

I forgot everything the next moment--the nearness of the dangerously wounded captain, and the alarm that would be felt by Miss Denning, and with fists feeling like solid bone I sprang at him in turn. For I was in a strange state of exaltation. My nerves had been stirred by the excitement of the past days. I had been horribly imposed upon, and in place of my pity I now felt something very near akin to hate for my treacherous messmate, whom I had been ready, to forgive everything. I felt as if the most delightful thing in life would be to thrash him till he was in such a condition that he would be obliged to have the doctor to see to him and put him right--if he did not half-kill me instead, for he looked capable of doing it then. But this last did not occur to me, as I made my fists fly at his head, no round-about windmill blows, but straight-out shots right at his face, chest, anywhere I could see a chance to hit, though in the majority of cases I missed him, and received his blows instead.

But these did not seem to hurt, only excite me, and give me strength. They were like spurring to a horse; and as I hit out, my tongue was not idle, for I kept on taunting and gibing at him, asking if that one did not make him groan and this one did not need the doctor, while all the time he was perfectly silent, save that as he glared at me and fought savagely I could hear his teeth grinding together. He fought savagely, and so did I, for to use an old school-boy term, my monkey was up, and I was ready to keep on till I dropped.

Blows fell fast enough on both, and then we closed and wrestled and went down.

Then we were up, and crashing against the bulk-head on one side, then on the other. Then I sent him staggering against the door; and _en revanche_, as he recovered himself and came on again, he sent me heavily against the ship's side, where the back of my head gave a sounding rap close to the little circular window.

Of course it was a matter of a very few minutes. Boy human nature could not stand a prolongation of such a fierce struggle, even if our muscles were tense as so much elastic wood. And how that time passed I can hardly tell. I was conscious of seeing sparks, and then of Walters' eyes and gleaming teeth which were very hard to my knuckles. So was his head, and the boards, and cabin-floor; but I fought on, and wrestled and went down, and got up again, and the fighting was soon in perfect silence as far as our lips were concerned, till after one desperate round--the last--I struck out so fiercely with my left, adding to it the whole weight of my body, that Walters fell back over the chest in one corner, his head struck the bulk-head with a sounding bang, and he went down in a sitting position, but in an instant sprang up again, grinding his teeth.

The cabin was nearly dark now and my fists were up for the renewal of the contest, for Walters seemed to be about to spring at me; but he drew back, and as quickly as I could grasp what it meant, I heard almost simultaneously the clicking of my pistol-lock, the report, and the crash caused by the sudden wrenching open of the cabin-door.

"Hurt?" cried Mr Brymer, as I staggered back, conscious of a sharp stinging pain at the side of my head; and as he spoke he sprang at Walters, wrested the pistol from him, and threw him down.

"I--I don't know," I stammered as I put my hand to my ear. "Yes, I think so," for my fingers were wet with blood.

"You cowardly, treacherous hound!" cried the mate, with his foot upon Walters' breast.

"I--oh don't!--help!--I was only defending myself from Dale. I'm weak and hurt, and--"

"A cowardly, malingering liar!" cried Mr Frewen, hotly. "He tried to make me believe he was very bad, groaning and wincing, and thinking he had deceived me, but I saw through him all the time."

"No, no, I am bad!" groaned Walters, piteously.

"He isn't," I said, with my anger against him mastering a sensation of sickness. "He was shamming; I found him out, and we quarrelled and fought, and as soon as he was beaten he caught up the pistol and fired at me."

"It's all a lie!" shouted Walters, fiercely. "I was so weak and ill that I--"

"Jumped up well as I was, and called Mr Frewen a brute and a beast as soon as he was out of hearing."

"And the pistol cocked itself, jumped up into his hand, and then went off and wounded Dale. Is it much, doctor?" said Mr Brymer.

"No, only his ear cut, fortunately," said Mr Frewen, holding a handkerchief to my head. "An inch more and our amiable, treacherous young friend would have had to be tried for murder. Who's that?"

"Me," growled Neb Dumlow. "Want help, sir?"

"No. Go and tell the captain there's nothing the matter, and Miss Denning that there's no cause for alarm. Lock up the wild beast, Brymer! I thought he was a little weak and wanted feeding up. Leave him to me, and I'll feed him down."

Mr Brymer gave a sharp look round, and then closed the door and locked it, while following Mr Frewen into the next cabin, he put a few stitches in my injured ear and then strapped it up.

"Feel sick?" he said.

"Pretty well," I said, and I looked dismally at my knuckles.

"Like a light, and a glass to see your face?"

"Eh? No," I cried, as I recalled all that had taken place. "Does it look very bad?"

"Not half so bad as it will to-morrow," said Mr Frewen, coolly. "You had a tidy fight then, you two?"

"Oh yes; don't talk about it, please, sir. He made me feel so wild after I found out that he was only shamming."

"Humph! Well, don't let Miss Denning see you. If you had been knocked about like this in a struggle with those scoundrels under the hatch you would have won her sympathy; but a lad who goes and indulges in fisticuffs till his face looks like a muffin which has tumbled into the slop-basin, can't show himself in ladies' society till he has grown well."

"Oh, I say, Mr Frewen!" I cried.

"It's a fact," he said, laughing at my dismal face.

"But can't you put some stuff on it to make it look better?"

"No, nothing," he said coolly. "I only know of one thing that will help you out of your difficulty," he continued quietly.

"Yes," I said. "What?"

"You must wait till we have another fight with the men forward, and then if you get knocked about, all those bruises will go to the same account."

I was busily bathing my face and hands as he spoke, and then, as I began dabbing myself gently with a towel, there was an alarm from forward which suggested that, though I was getting stiffer and more sore every moment, the time had already come for the doctor's remedy to be put in force, for there was a pistol-shot followed by several more, and a loud shouting which sounded like cries for help.

It was a wonderful change from the previous night as we hurried along the deck to join our friends. The ship rode on an even keel, the night was glorious with stars, and the lanterns shone bright and clear where they were swung. There was no creeping along a few feet at a time, holding on by rope and belaying-pin, with the spray dashing over the side.

We could see the group about the hatch standing a little back, for in spite of our defences, the mutineers were making a desperate effort to escape, and were keeping up a steady fire through the top and sides to cover the work of one of their number, who was chopping away at the door to hack out the fastening.

As we reached them, Mr Brymer was ready revolver in hand, hesitating as to whether he should fire, for he was husbanding his ammunition, the supply being far from abundant.

"It's getting warm, doctor," he said as we came up. "What is to be done? I grudge wasting cartridges."

Just then Bob Hampton, who had been right aft, came trotting up.

"Who is at the wheel?" said Mr Brymer, sharply.

"Blane, sir."

"That will do. Look here, Hampton, the captain saw to the receiving of the powder and cartridges while I was busy over the other portions of the cargo, and he is too weak to be questioned. You joined the mutiny for a time."

"Never, sir, for no time," growled Bob.

"Well, you were with the men, and in their confidence."

"Not a bit on it, sir, arksing your pardon. Frenchy never trusted me a mite; only got all the work out of me that he could."

"Well, well, we will not argue little points," said Mr Brymer, impatiently, as the chopping and firing went on. "You saw a great deal of what was going on."

"Yes, sir, heaps; I kep' my eyes open."

"Well, tell me this--what about the powder and weapons? What do you know about them?"

"I'll tell you, sir," said Bob; "but, begging your pardon, hadn't you better clap a stopper on this here game?"

"How, man?"

"Answering them shots, sir."

"I would, but my cartridges are nearly all gone. How did you get these?"

"Outer the hold, sir, where they stowed 'em close alongside o' the blasting-powder. There's plenty more."

"Can you get them?"

"Oh yes, sir. You see, before the mutiny began, Jarette set some one, as I heard afterward, to smuggle all the cartridges and weapons he could out of the cabins and from the captain's locker."

"Yes, we found out that had been done. Who did they send?"

Bob Hampton chuckled.

"Why, you know, sir."

"Not Mr Walters?"

"If you was to spend all the rest o' your life, sir, making shots at it, you wouldn't never get nigher than that."

"The young scoundrel! Then you know where the cartridges are?"

"Course I do, sir: under the battened down hatches yonder. Frenchy put 'em there himself, and wouldn't let no one go nigh 'em, 'cause the fellows were always smoking. I got down to 'em at night when the storm was coming, as you know, and when you want more, there they are,--yer pistols and guns too."

"Oh, that puts quite a different complexion upon our position, Mr Denning. We can fire as much as we like," cried the mate. "But one word more, Hampton. What about the mutineers? Have they a very large supply of ammunition?"

"Well, sir, that I can't say. I know Jarette always kep' his pockets jam-full, but I don't know nothing about the others."

The chopping was still going on while this discussion took place, and shot after shot was fired, evidently in a blind fashion, as if the man who used the revolver was unable to take an aim at any one, and merely fired to keep us away from the hatch; but now all at once we were startled by a sharp jingling of glass, and the violent swinging of one of the lanterns, which had been struck by a bullet.

"That was the result of some one aiming," cried Mr Denning, sharply.

"If they don't do any more damage than that it won't matter," said Mr Preddle.

"Look here, Brymer," whispered Mr Frewen, speaking now after carefully watching the dimly-seen hatch for some minutes, "it strikes me that if you let them go on firing for a little longer they will be forced to surrender."

"For want of ammunition?" said the mate.

"No; for want of air. That ventilator will not carry off the foul gas from the firing."

"But the holes they are making will," said the mate. "If it were not so dark you would see that the smoke is curling out from several little holes."

Mr Frewen took a step forward; there was a sharp report, and he staggered back. "Flit?" cried Mr Preddle, excitedly. "Yes, but not hurt," replied Mr Frewen. "The bullet struck my collar, and it was like something giving me a violent jerk."

"Change positions every one," said Mr Brymer in a low voice. "Hampton, the lanterns. Let them both down, and put them in the galley."

Bob Hampton ran to one line by which they were hoisted up, I to the other; and as I was lowering mine down, I heard a shot, and a whizz like a bee flying over my head.

"Quite time that was done," said the mate, as the two lighted lanterns were taken by Bob and carried to the galley. But the door was fast, and it was not until after a good deal of dragging and wrenching that it was pulled open, I holding the two lights, while Bob tugged.

Bang! went a revolver again, and a shot whizzed by my companion's ear, and stuck into the side of the galley.

"Look sharp, Hampton; they can see you, man!" cried Mr Brymer. "Throw something over the lights."

"Done it, sir," cried Bob, as the door yielded, and I stepped forward to get the lanterns in, when, as Bob opened the door widely, and the light flashed in, he uttered a yell, and nearly dropped the lanterns, for there before us in the corner of the galley stood, or lay back, a ghastly-looking figure which at first sight seemed to me like the body of one of the mutineers who had been shot. But as I stood trembling and holding up one light, the white face moved and the eyes blinked.

"What's the matter?" cried Mr Brymer, loudly. "Go and see, Mr Frewen."

The doctor took a few steps and joined us, saw the figure, and said sharply--"Another prisoner?"

"No, sir; can't he; 'cause he's fastened hisself in," replied Bob. "Why, matey, what are you doing here? I thought you was a ghost."

"Why, it's the cook!" I exclaimed.

"Cooky it is, sir," said Hampton. "Here y'are, mate; we've brought you a light."

The lanterns were thrust in, the door shut, and we hurried back, discussing our discovery, but this was checked by the firing from the hatch, while the blows from an axe threatened to make short work of the door and the boards that had been nailed across.

"What's to be done?" said Mr Preddle, mildly. "Hadn't you better speak to them, Mr Brymer?"

"I feel as if I can only speak by deputy," he replied, and he raised his pistol,--"by this. But I don't like firing until the last extremity."

"I'll speak to them," said Mr Frewen.

"Very well; but get well out of reach. They will not be so merciful as we are."

Mr Frewen went round to the bow-side of the hatch, and shouted loudly to those in the forecastle, with the result that the chopping ceased, and after a few moments' delay Jarette's voice was heard.

"You surrender then, eh?" he shouted. "Look sharp and knock off these boards."

Mr Brymer could not help laughing aloud, and a pistol was fired in his direction.

"Stop that!" shouted Mr Frewen. "Look here, my men, if you hand out your weapons through the top of the hatch, and promise not to attempt to escape, food and water shall be passed down, and you shall receive fair treatment till we get into port."

"Do you hear, my lads?" cried Jarette, loudly. "And when we get in port they'll hand us over as prisoners. What do you--there, I'll say it for you," he continued hastily. "No, no, no! And now listen to me, all you who can hear. You can't sail into port without us, and you are only proposing a truce because you are growing frightened."

"Indeed!" said Mr Frewen, coolly.

"Yes, indeed, doctor. I know your voice. Now you take my advice--you and those two passengers. Get back to your cabins, and perhaps I'll forgive you. We can come on deck now whenever we like, and we're masters here. If you don't do as I say, look out, for I warn you I can cover all of you with my pistol, and if I couldn't I'd sink the ship before you should hold her again."

"Then you refuse to surrender?" cried Mr Frewen. "Harkye, my lads, below there; don't let this madman lead you on to your ruin. Will you surrender?"

"Silence below there!" shouted Jarette. "I'll give him his answer. There!"

He fired, evidently aiming in the direction of Mr Frewen's voice, for the bullet whizzed over the doctor's head; when, without waiting for orders, Mr Preddle fired back, and his shot was followed by a sharp ejaculation, suggesting that some one had been hit; but directly after we heard a little talking, and several shots were fired at us, but without effect.

"There," said Mr Brymer, "we have done our duty by them, we must now do it by ourselves."

"If we could only master that one man," said Mr Frewen in the little council of war which followed, "we could manage."

"Hadn't you better order the hose to be laid on, Mr Brymer, sir," said Bob Hampton, "and drown 'em out like rats?"

"It would be punishing the weak with the guilty and strong, my lad," said Mr Brymer. "I am loth to proceed to extremities."

"Werry well then, sir, smoke 'em out as you would rats. I dessay the doctor has got some brimstone."

"Yes, I have, Hampton," said Mr Frewen; "but, you see, these are men, not rats."

"That's a true word, sir."

"You would not like to kill them all in cold blood, my man?"

"No, sir, that's a butchery sort o' way; but I'm ready to give 'em a wopses' nest squib to bring 'em to their senses."

"Out of their senses, man!" cried Mr Frewen, impatiently. "It means death, I tell you--wholesale murder. The men, I repeat, are not rats."

"Well, sir, they're behaving like 'em, and there's no gammon about it now. They're desprit; Jarette's worked 'em up; and they've got the judge to face if we take 'em into port. Strikes me it's our lives or theirn; but you knows best. I was thinking about the young lady."

Just then the chopping began again, and Mr Brymer raised his pistol and fired.

The chopping ceased, and there was a burst of loud talking. Then all was still for hours, while a careful watch was kept until morning. _

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