Part 17 (2/2)

”I certainly shall try, sir, if you do not do your duty, to protect these helpless women. But we have a right to demand your a.s.sistance, and we do; while I have the word of every man present that he will fight to the last gasp for those who need our protection.”

”I cannot fight, but I can load for you,” said a voice from behind; and looking round, as many of us did, there stood Mr Bell, pale as a ghost, but quite calm, and leaning upon his sister's arm; while, if I could have seen anything in a woman to admire, I should have said she looked beautiful just then--being quite pale and calm--like the sea of a still morning before the sun rises.

”There's something to fight for there,” says Sam in my ear.

”Why didn't they all stop at home?” I says. ”Just look what a mess they've got themselves in through being aboard s.h.i.+p, which is the last place as they should be in.”

What Mr Ward had said seemed to have warmed the captain up; for sooner than see another take his place, he set to, and began to hunt out what arms he could find, after placing Mr Ward to guard the broken skylight, which he did with a revolver and a thin skewer of a thing out of a walking-stick, and it put me in mind of what I have read about some one being put in the fore-front of the battle; but the young man never said a word; and then, after a bit of a rummage, the captain came back to serve out what arms he could get told of, but that wasn't many, for the enemy had pretty well emptied the locker where they were kept. A precious poor lot there was left for us to defend ourselves and a whole tribe of women and children; my share being an empty pistol, which didn't seem to be so much use as a fellow's fist, that being a handy sort of weapon in a tussle.

Everything was done quiet as could be, so as not to let them on deck know what we were doing; but as soon as the arming part was finished, and I looked round, I could see that the game was up, for two more pistols, two cutlashes, and a couple of guns--sporting-guns, that two of the pa.s.sengers had used to shoot sea-birds with--was all we could muster.

As is always the case when it's wanted, neither of these pa.s.sengers had any more powder; and when Mr Ward's little pistol-flask had been pa.s.sed round once, there was not another charge left; but the captain had gone to get more, and we were expecting him back, piling up hammocks and bedding the while, to keep the mutineers off, and to have something to fight from behind. I was doing all I could, after shoving a good charge of powder and a whole handful of small-shot into my pistol, when Mr Ward beckons to me and whispers: ”Go and see why he don't come back; it's time to be on the alert, for they are moving on deck.”

I stepped lightly off--my feet being bare, making no noise on the planks--when coming upon the captain quickly, I saw him just putting down a water-can, and he turned round to me, looking pale as a sheet, as he says: ”It's no use, my lad; resistance would be vain, for they've contrived to wet what powder we had. Look at it.”

He pointed to the little keg and a small case of cartridges, and sure enough they were all dripping wet, while it seemed rather surprising that the wetting looked so fresh. But I did not say so, only that Mr Ward hoped he'd make haste.

”Curse Mr Ward!” he muttered; and then he went on first, and I followed with my cheeks blown out, as if I was going to whistle, but I didn't make a sound for all that.

”I fear that we must give up, Mr Ward,” says the skipper, ”for the powder is all wet.”

There was a regular groan of dismay at the news, and one woman gave a sort of sob, else they were still as mice, and the children too behaving wonderful.

”Who talks of giving up?” says Mr Bell, his pale face flus.h.i.+ng up as he spoke, and him holding one hand to his side. ”Do you call yourselves men to hint at such a thing? I am no man now, only a broken, wasted shadow of a man, or, by the G.o.d who made me, Captain Harness, I'd strike you down! Look at these women, men! think of their fate if those scoundrels get the upper hand--completely--Mr Ward--you--as a gentleman--my sister--G.o.d help--”

The poor young fellow staggered, and would have fallen, for the blood was trickling down upon his s.h.i.+rt-front--gus.h.i.+ng from his lips; but Mr Ward saved him, springing forward as a cry burst from Miss Bell; and he was laid upon a mattress in one of the cabins fainting--dying, it seemed to me.

Then there was a murmur among the pa.s.sengers, of such a nature that Captain Harness found he must make some show of a fight, or it would be done without him; and accordingly he took hold of a very blunt cutlash, looking precious pale, but making-believe to tuck up the wristband of his s.h.i.+rt, to have free play for killing six or seven of the mutineers.

As for the pa.s.sengers, all mustered, there was about eighteen of them; and had they been well armed, numbers being about equal, I don't think we should have had much the worst of it; but ever so many of them had no arms at all, and I began to turn over in my mind what was to be done. I had a pretty good jack-knife; and not having much faith in the pistol, I was about to trust to the bit of steel, same as Sam Brown, who had one with a spring-back and a good seven-inch blade, so I says to Tomt.i.t: ”P'r'aps you'd like the pistol, sir;” and he took it quietly and earnestly, tapping the back, to make sure the powder was up the nipple, and I thought to myself, that's in the right hands, anyhow.

”Are you ready?” says the skipper; for they were evidently collecting up above, and some one fired a pistol down the skylight, but none of us was. .h.i.t.

”Not quite, sir,” I says. ”Steward, suppose you hand out some of them knives o' yours; and I'll trouble you for the big beef-carver, as I spoke first.”

Mr Ward turned round and smiled at me; and I gave him a nod, turned up my sleeve too, and then laid hold of the big carver, which did not make such a bad weapon, being new, sharp-pointed, and stiff; while my idea had put a knife into a dozen hands that before had nothing to show.

”Pile more mattresses and hammocks up,” said Mr Ward; for it was plain that neither the skipper nor Mr Wallace meant to do much towards what was going to take place; and then I saw the doctor give one look towards where Mr Bell was lying, and run across, as if to see how he was; but he hurriedly caught hold of Miss Bell's hand, and I could see that he spoke, while, as she drew her hand hastily away, she gave a strange frightened sort of look at him. Next moment he was back at my side, just as the cabin-hatch was flung open, and the shuffling of feet told that the mutineers meant to make their rush.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER EIGHT.

It was a rush, and no mistake; for they had been priming themselves up with rum, I should think, for the last hour or two, till they were nearly mad; and with Van at their head, they came on, yelling like so many devils, more than Englishmen, though certainly half of them were from all parts of the world. There was no time then for thinking, and before you knew where you were, it was give and take.

We fired as they came on; but I did not see that much harm was done, only one chap falling; while, as they returned it, Mr Wallace gave a cry, and clapped his hand to his shoulder, dropping at the same time his cutlash, which Tomt.i.t laid hold of, for he had just s.h.i.+ed his pistol, after firing it, right at Van's head, only missing him by half an inch or so.

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