Part 18 (1/2)
I'll have none on 'em.”
The fierce pirate and slaver stood abashed before the wild outbreak of the bold sailor, but quickly recovering himself, livid and trembling with rage, he shouted out to his crew--
”Heave these fools of Englishmen overboard; they know more of our secrets than they ought, and will not join us. Send this talking fellow first.”
”If it comes to that, I can find my tongue too, let me tell you,”
exclaimed Bob Short; ”you're a murderous, rascally, thieving--”
”Heave them both together,” shouted Daggerfeldt.
”Stay,” said Antonio, who was refined in his cruelty; ”let them have the pleasure of seeing their captain hang first, since they are so fond of him. He well knows what their fate will be, and perhaps he would rather they went overboard than joined us.”
”Do as you like, but let it be done quickly,” answered Daggerfeldt.
”I'm sick of this work, and we must be preparing to get out of the river, or their friends will be sending in here to look for us.”
Hopkins and Short did not understand a word of this conversation, and finding themselves brought close up to where their captain stood engaged in his devotions, and preparing like a brave man for inevitable death, they believed that they were to share his fate.
”Well, I'm blowed if that ain't more than I expected of the beggars,”
whispered Jack Hopkins to his companion; ”they're going to do the thing that's right after all, and launch us in our last cruise in the same way as the captain.”
”Jack, can you pray?” asked Bob Short.
”Why, for the matter of that I was never much of a hand at it,” answered Jack; ”but when I was a youngster I was taught to thank G.o.d for all his mercies, and I do so still. Why do you ask?”
”I was thinking as how as the skipper is taking a spell at it, whether we might ask him just to put in a word for us. He knows more about it, and a captain of a man-of-war must have a greater chance of being attended to than one of us, you see, Jack.”
Poor Bob could never thus have exerted himself had he not felt that he should only have a few words more to speak in this life. Jack looked at him in surprise.
”I'll ask him, Bob, I'll ask him; but you know as how the parson says, in the country we are going to all men are equal, and so I suppose we ought to pray for ourselves.”
”But we are still in this world, Jack,” argued the other; ”Captain Staunton is still our captain, and we are before the mast.”
He spoke loud, and Captain Staunton had apparently overheard the conversation, for he smiled and looked towards them. He had been offering up a prayer to the throne on high for mercy for the failings of the two honest fellows, whose ignorance it was now too late to enlighten. Antonio was a pious Catholic, and, villain as he was, he was unwilling not to give the chance of a quiet pa.s.sage into the other world to his victims.
”What are you about there?” shouted Daggerfeldt; ”is this work never to end?”
”The men are praying, senor, before they slip their cables for eternity,” answered Antonio.
”Is there an eternity?” muttered the pirate, and shuddered.
On Captain Staunton's turning his head, on which the light from the lantern fell strongly, Antonio believed it was the signal that he was prepared,--”Hoist away!” he shouted, in Spanish; but at that instant a light female form rushed forth from the cabin, and seizing the whip, held it forcibly down with one hand while she disengaged the noose from the captain's neck.
”Oh, Juan! have you not murders enough on your head already that you must commit another in cold blood?” she exclaimed, turning to Daggerfeldt, ”and that other on one who saved your life at the risk of his own. I knew him--before all my misery began, and recognised him at once. If you persist, I leave you; you know me well, I fear not to die; Antonio, you dare not disobey me. Unreeve that rope, and leave me to settle with our captain regarding these men.”
The slaver's crew stood sulky and with frowning aspect around her, yet they in no way interrupted her proceedings, while Daggerfeldt stood a silent spectator in the after-part of the vessel.
”Unreeve that rope! again I say,” she exclaimed, stamping on the deck with her foot. The order was obeyed without the captain's interference.
”Your lives are safe for the present,” she said, addressing the Englishmen. ”I know that man's humour, and he dares not now contradict me. I am the only thing who yet clings to him, the only one he thinks who loves him, the only being in whom he can place his trust; that explains my power.” She spoke hurriedly and low, so that Staunton alone could hear her, and there was scorn in her tone. ”Cast those men loose,” she continued, turning to the crew, while with her own hands she undid the cords which lashed Staunton's arms, and as she did so she whispered, ”Keep together, and edge towards the arms-chest. There are those on board who will aid me if any attempt is made to injure you.”
Saying this she approached the captain of the slaver; she touched his arm: ”Juan,” she said, in a softened tone, totally different from that in which she had hitherto spoken; ”I am wayward, and have my fancies. I felt certain that your death would immediately follow that of those men.