Part 35 (2/2)

escaped you--hurrah!” and with another wild shriek he leaped on the hot deck, and, seizing a bucket, resumed his self-imposed duty of deluging the fire with water.

”Pull, pull, lads! we can't leave the miserable man to perish,” cried Montague, starting up, while the men rowed after the frigate with their utmost might. But in vain. Already she was far from them, and ever increased the distance as she ran before the gale.

As long as the s.h.i.+p lasted the poor maniac was seen diligently pursuing his work--stopping now and then to spring on the bulwarks and give another cheer.

At last the blazing vessel left boats and schooner far behind, and the flames rose in great flakes and tongues above her top-masts, while the smoke rolled in dense black volumes away to leeward.

While the awe-stricken crew watched her there came a sudden flash of bright white flame, as if a volcano had leaped out of the ocean. The powder-magazine had caught. It was followed by a roaring crash that seemed to rend the very heavens. A thick darkness settled over the scene--and the vessel that a few hours before had been a n.o.ble frigate, was scattered on the ocean a ma.s.s of blackened ruins.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

The Pacific is not always calm, but neither is it always stormy. We think it necessary to make this latter observation, because the succession of short-lived gales and squalls which have been prominently and unavoidably brought forward in our tale might lead the reader to deem the name of this ocean inappropriate.

Although the sea was not quite so still now, owing to the swell caused by the recent gale, it was quite as gla.s.sy as it was then. The sun, too, was as hot and the sky as brilliant, but the aspect of the _Foam_ was much changed. The deep quiet was gone. Crowded on every part of the deck, and even down in her hold, were the crew of the man-of-war, lolling about listlessly and sadly, or conversing with grave looks about the catastrophe which had deprived them so suddenly of their floating home.

Gascoyne and Henry leaned over the stern in order to avoid being overheard by those around them, and conversed in low tones.

”But why not attempt to escape?” said the latter, in reply to some observation made by his companion.

”Because I am pledged to give myself up to justice.”

”No; not to justice,” replied the youth, quickly. ”You said you would give yourself up to me and Mr Mason. I for one won't act the part of a--a--”

”Thief-catcher,” suggested Gascoyne.

”Well, put it so if you will; and I am certain that the missionary will not have anything to do with your capture. He will say that the officers of justice are bound to attend to such matters. It would be perfectly right in you to try to escape.”

”Ah! Henry, your feelings have warped your judgment,” said Gascoyne, shaking his head. ”It is strange how men will prevaricate and deceive themselves when they want to reason themselves into a wrong course or out of a right one. But what you or Mr Mason think or will do has nothing to do with my course of action.”

”But the law holds, if I mistake not, that a man is not bound to criminate himself,” said Henry.

”I know not and care not what the law of man holds,” replied the other, sadly. ”I have forfeited my life to my country, and I am willing to lay it down.”

”Nay, not your life,” said Henry; ”you have done no murder.”

”Well, then, at least my liberty is forfeited. I shall leave it to those who judge me whether my life shall be taken or no. I sometimes wish that I could get away to some distant part of the world, and there, by living the life of an honest man, try to undo, if possible, a little of what I have done. But, woe's me, wishes and regrets come too late.

No, I must be content to reap what I have sown.”

”They will be certain to hang you,” said the youth, bitterly.

”I think it likely they will,” replied his companion.

”And would you call that justice?” asked Henry, sharply. ”Whatever punishment you may deserve, you do not deserve to die. You know well enough that your own word will go for nothing, and no one else can bear witness in your favour. You will be regarded simply as a notorious pirate. Even if some of the people whose lives you have spared while taking their goods should turn up, their testimony could not prove that you had not murdered others; so your fate is certain if you go to trial.

Have you any right, then, to compa.s.s your own death by thus giving yourself up?”

”Ah! boy, your logic is not sound.”

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