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Foul Play, a novel by Charles Reade |
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Chapter 20 |
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_ CHAPTER XX HAZEL thought her reason was going; and, instead of looking at the men's eyes, it was hers he examined. But no; the sweet cheek was white, the eyes had a fearful hollow all round them, but, out of that cave the light hazel eye, preternaturally large, but calm as ever, looked out, full of fortitude, resignation, and reason. "Don't look at _me,"_ said she, quietly; "but take an opportunity and look at _them._ They mean to kill me." Hazel looked furtively round; and, being enlightened in part by the woman's intelligence, he observed that some of the men were actually glaring at himself and Helen Rolleston in a dreadful way. There was a remarkable change in their eyes since he looked last. The pupils seemed diminished, the whites enlarged; and, in a word, the characteristics of humanity had, somehow, died out of those bloodshot orbs, and the animal alone shone in them now; the wild beast, driven desperate by hunger. What he saw, coupled with Helen's positive interpretation of it, was truly sickening. These men were six, and he but one. They had all clasp-knives; and he had only an old penknife that would be sure to double up or break off if a blow were dealt with it. He asked himself, in utter terror, what on earth he should do. The first thing seemed to be to join the men and learn their minds. It might also be as well to prevent this secret conference from going further. He went forward boldly, though sick at heart, and said, "Well, my lads, what is it?" The men were silent directly, and looked sullenly down, avoiding his eye; yet not ashamed. In a situation so terrible, the senses are sharpened; and Hazel dissected, in his mind, this sinister look, and saw that Morgan, Prince and Mackintosh were hostile to him. But Welch and Cooper he hoped were still friendly. "Sir," said Fenner, civilly but doggedly, "we are come to this now, that one must die, for the others to live. And the greater part of us are for casting lots all round, and let every man, and every woman too, take their chance. That is fair, Sam, isn't it?" "It is fair," said Cooper, with a terrible doggedness. "But it is hard," he added. "Harder that seven should die for one," said Mackintosh. "No, no; one must die for the seven." Hazel represented, with all the force language possesses, that what they meditated was a crime, the fatal result of which was known by experience. But they heard in ominous silence. Hazel went back to Helen Rolleston and sat down right before her. "Well!" said she, with supernatural calmness. "You were mistaken," said he. "Then why have you placed yourself between them and me. No, no; their eyes have told me they have singled me out. But what does it matter? We poor creatures are all to die; and that one is the happiest that dies first, and dies unstained by such a crime. _I heard every word you said, sir."_ Hazel cast a piteous look on her, and, finding he could no longer deceive her as to their danger, and being weakened by famine, fell to trembling and crying. Helen Rolleston looked at him with calm and gentle pity. For a moment, the patient fortitude of a woman made her a brave man's superior. Night came, and, for the first time, Hazel claimed two portions of the rum; one for himself and one for Miss Rolleston. He then returned aft, and took the helm. He loosened it, so as to be ready to unship it in a moment, and use it as a weapon. The men huddled together forward; and it was easy to see that the boat was now divided into two hostile camps. Hazel sat quaking, with his hand on the helm, fearing an attack every moment. Both he and Helen listened acutely, and about three o'clock in the morning a new incident occurred, of a terrible nature. Mackintosh was heard to say, "Serve out the rum, no allowance," and the demand was instantly complied with by Morgan. Then Hazel touched Miss Rolleston on the shoulder, and insisted on her taking half what was left of the marmalade, and he took the other half. The time was gone for economy; what they wanted now was strength, in case the wild beasts, maddened by drink as well as hunger, should attack them. Already the liquor had begun to tell, and wild hallos and yells, and even fragments of ghastly songs, mingled with the groans of misery in the doomed boat. At sunrise there was a great swell upon the water, and sharp gusts at intervals; and on the horizon, to windward, might be observed a black spot in the sky, no bigger than a fly. But none saw that; Hazel's eye never left the raving wretches in the forepart of the boat; Cooper and Welch sat in gloomy despair amidships; and the others were huddled together forward, encouraging each other to a desperate act. It was about eight o'clock in the morning. Helen Rolleston awoke from a brief doze and said, "Mr. Hazel, I have had a strange dream. I dreamed there was food, and plenty of it, on the outside of this boat." While these strange words were yet in her mouth, three of the sailors suddenly rose up with their knives drawn, and eyes full of murder, and staggered aft as fast as their enfeebled bodies could. Hazel uttered a loud cry, "Welch! Cooper! will you see us butchered?" and, unshipping the helm, rose to his feet. Cooper put out his arm to stop Mackintosh, but was too late. He did stop Morgan, however, and said, "Come, none of that; no foul play!" Irritated by this unexpected resistance, and maddened by drink, Morgan turned on Cooper and stabbed him; he sank down with a groan; on this Welch gave Morgan a fearful gash, dividing his jugular, and was stabbed, in return, by Prince, but not severely; these two grappled and rolled over one another, stabbing and cursing at the bottom of the boat; meantime, Mackintosh was received by Hazel with a point blank thrust in the face from the helm that staggered him, though a very powerful man, and drove him backward against the mast; but, in delivering this thrust, Hazel's foot slipped, and he fell with great violence on his head and arm; Mackintosh recovered himself, and sprang upon the stern thwart with his knife up and gleaming over Helen Rolleston. Hazel writhed round where he lay, and struck him desperately on the knee with the helm. The poor woman knew only how to suffer; she cowered a little, and put up two feeble hands. The knife descended. But not upon that cowering figure. _ |
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