Part 5 (1/2)

Billy Eightbells, the second mate, was quite of Dan's opinion. The looks of the others told me then that they began to fear the adventure.

Billy was the first really to give expression to the common sentiment.

”Making bold to speak,” he said, ”it were two years ago come Christmas as I met something like this afore, down Rio way----”

”Was it at eight bells, Billy?” asked Mary mischievously. She knew that all Billy's yarns began at eight bells.

”Well, I think it were, mum, but as I was saying----”

”Flash again,” said the skipper, suddenly interrupting the harangue, and as the blue light flashed we saw right ahead of us the wanderer we sought; but she was bearing down upon us, and there was fear in the skipper's voice when he roared--

”For G.o.d's sake, hard a-starboard!”

The helm went over, and the yacht loomed up black, as our own light died away; and pa.s.sed us within a cable's length. What lift of the night there was showed us her decks again; but they were not deserted, for as one or two aboard gave a great cry, I saw the white and horridly distorted face of a man who clung to the main shrouds--and he alone was guardian of the wanderer.

The horrid vision struck my own men with a deadly fearing.

”May the Lord help us!” said Dan.

”And him!” added Piping Jack solemnly.

”Was he alive, d'you think?” asked Dan.

”It's my opinion he'd seen something as no Christian man ought to see.

Please G.o.d, we all get to port again!”

”Please G.o.d!” said half-a-dozen; and their words had meaning.

For myself, my thoughts were very different. That vision of the man I had left well and hopeful and strong not three days since was terrible to me. A brave man had gone to his death, but to what a death, if that agonised face and distorted visage betokened aught! And I had promised to aid him, and was drifting there with the schooner, raising no hand to give him help.

”Skipper,” I cried, ”this time we'll risk getting a boat off; I'm going aboard that vessel now, if I drown before I return.” Then I turned to the men, and said: ”You saw the yacht pa.s.s just now, and you saw that man aboard her--he's my friend, and I'm going to fetch him. Who amongst you is coming with me?”

They hung back for a moment before the stuff that was in them showed itself; then Dan lurched out, and said--

”I go!”

Billy Eightbells followed.

”And I,” said he, ”if it's the Old One himself.”

”And I,” said Piping Jack.

”And I,” said Planks, the carpenter.

”Come on, then, and take your knives in your belts. Skipper, put about and show another light.”

He obeyed mechanically, saying nothing; but he was a brave man, I knew.

It was our luck to find that the boat went away from the davits with no more than a couple of buckets of water in her; and in two minutes' time the men were giving way, and we rose and fell to the still choppy sea, while the green spray ran from our oilskins in gallons. In this way we made a couple of hundred yards in the direction we judged the yacht would turn, and lit a flash. It showed her a quarter of a mile away, jibbing round and coming into the wind again.

”We shall catch her on the tack if she holds her bearing,” said Dan, ”and be aboard in ten minutes.”