THE wind, serving us to a desire,
now hauled into the west. We could
run so much the easier from the
north-east corner of the island to
the mouth of the North Inlet. Only,
as we had no power to anchor and
dared not beach her till the tide
had flowed a good deal farther, time
hung on our hands. The coxswain told
me how to lay the ship to; after a
good many trials I succeeded, and we
both sat in silence over another
meal. "Cap'n," said he at length with that
same uncomfortable smile, "here's my
old shipmate, O'Brien; s'pose you
was to heave him overboard. I ain't
partic'lar as a rule, and I don't
take no blame for settling his hash,
but I don't reckon him ornamental
now, do you?" "I'm not strong enough, and I don't
like the job; and there he lies, for
me," said I. "This here's an unlucky ship, this
HISPANIOLA, Jim," he went on,
blinking. "There's a power of men
been killed in this HISPANIOLA—a
sight o' poor seamen dead and gone
since you and me took ship to
Bristol. I never seen sich dirty
luck, not I. There was this here
O'Brien now—he's dead, ain't he?
Well now, I'm no scholar, and you're
a lad as can read and figure, and to
put it straight, do you take it as a
dead man is dead for good, or do he
come alive again?" "You can kill the body, Mr. Hands,
but not the spirit; you must know
that already," I replied. "O'Brien
there is in another world, and may
be watching us." "Ah!" says he. "Well, that's
unfort'nate—appears as if killing
parties was a waste of time.
Howsomever, sperrits don't reckon
for much, by what I've seen. I'll
chance it with the sperrits, Jim.
And now, you've spoke up free, and
I'll take it kind if you'd step down
into that there cabin and get me
a—well, a—shiver my timbers! I can't
hit the name on 't; well, you get me
a bottle of wine, Jim—this here
brandy's too strong for my head."
Now, the coxswain's hesitation
seemed to be unnatural, and as for
the notion of his preferring wine to
brandy, I entirely disbelieved it.
The whole story was a pretext. He
wanted me to leave the deck—so much
was plain; but with what purpose I
could in no way imagine. His eyes
never met mine; they kept wandering
to and fro, up and down, now with a
look to the sky, now with a flitting
glance upon the dead O'Brien. All
the time he kept smiling and putting
his tongue out in the most guilty,
embarrassed manner, so that a child
could have told that he was bent on
some deception. I was prompt with my
answer, however, for I saw where my
advantage lay and that with a fellow
so densely stupid I could easily
conceal my suspicions to the end.
"Some wine?" I said. "Far better.
Will you have white or red?" "Well, I reckon it's about the
blessed same to me, shipmate," he
replied; "so it's strong, and plenty
of it, what's the odds?" "All right," I answered. "I'll bring
you port, Mr. Hands. But I'll have
to dig for it." With that I scuttled down the
companion with all the noise I
could, slipped off my shoes, ran
quietly along the sparred gallery,
mounted the forecastle ladder, and
popped my head out of the fore
companion. I knew he would not
expect to see me there, yet I took
every precaution possible, and
certainly the worst of my suspicions
proved too true. He had risen from his position to
his hands and knees, and though his
leg obviously hurt him pretty
sharply when he moved—for I could
hear him stifle a groan—yet it was
at a good, rattling rate that he
trailed himself across the deck. In
half a minute he had reached the
port scuppers and picked, out of a
coil of rope, a long knife, or
rather a short dirk, discoloured to
the hilt with blood. He looked upon
it for a moment, thrusting forth his
under jaw, tried the point upon his
hand, and then, hastily concealing
it in the bosom of his jacket,
trundled back again into his old
place against the bulwark. This was all that I required to
know. Israel could move about, he
was now armed, and if he had been at
so much trouble to get rid of me, it
was plain that I was meant to be the
victim. What he would do
afterwards—whether he would try to
crawl right across the island from
North Inlet to the camp among the
swamps or whether he would fire Long
Tom, trusting that his own comrades
might come first to help him—was, of
course, more than I could say. Yet I felt sure that I could trust
him in one point, since in that our
interests jumped together, and that
was in the disposition of the
schooner. We both desired to have
her stranded safe enough, in a
sheltered place, and so that, when
the time came, she could be got off
again with as little labour and
danger as might be; and until that
was done I considered that my life
would certainly be spared. While I was thus turning the
business over in my mind, I had not
been idle with my body. I had stolen
back to the cabin, slipped once more
into my shoes, and laid my hand at
random on a bottle of wine, and now,
with this for an excuse, I made my
reappearance on the deck. Hands lay as I had left him, all
fallen together in a bundle and with
his eyelids lowered as though he
were too weak to bear the light. He
looked up, however, at my coming,
knocked the neck off the bottle like
a man who had done the same thing
often, and took a good swig, with
his favourite toast of "Here's
luck!" Then he lay quiet for a
little, and then, pulling out a
stick of tobacco, begged me to cut
him a quid. "Cut me a junk o' that," says he,
"for I haven't no knife and hardly
strength enough, so be as I had. Ah,
Jim, Jim, I reckon I've missed
stays! Cut me a quid, as'll likely
be the last, lad, for I'm for my
long home, and no mistake." "Well," said I, "I'll cut you some
tobacco, but if I was you and
thought myself so badly, I would go
to my prayers like a Christian man."
"Why?" said he. "Now, you tell me
why." "Why?" I cried. "You were asking me
just now about the dead. You've
broken your trust; you've lived in
sin and lies and blood; there's a
man you killed lying at your feet
this moment, and you ask me why! For
God's mercy, Mr. Hands, that's why."
I spoke with a little heat, thinking
of the bloody dirk he had hidden in
his pocket and designed, in his ill
thoughts, to end me with. He, for
his part, took a great draught of
the wine and spoke with the most
unusual solemnity. "For thirty years," he said, "I've
sailed the seas and seen good and
bad, better and worse, fair weather
and foul, provisions running out,
knives going, and what not. Well,
now I tell you, I never seen good
come o' goodness yet. Him as strikes
first is my fancy; dead men don't
bite; them's my views—amen, so be
it. And now, you look here," he
added, suddenly changing his tone,
"we've had about enough of this
foolery. The tide's made good enough
by now. You just take my orders,
Cap'n Hawkins, and we'll sail slap
in and be done with it." All told, we had scarce two miles to
run; but the navigation was
delicate, the entrance to this
northern anchorage was not only
narrow and shoal, but lay east and
west, so that the schooner must be
nicely handled to be got in. I think
I was a good, prompt subaltern, and
I am very sure that Hands was an
excellent pilot, for we went about
and about and dodged in, shaving the
banks, with a certainty and a
neatness that were a pleasure to
behold. Scarcely had we passed the heads
before the land closed around us.
The shores of North Inlet were as
thickly wooded as those of the
southern anchorage, but the space
was longer and narrower and more
like, what in truth it was, the
estuary of a river. Right before us,
at the southern end, we saw the
wreck of a ship in the last stages
of dilapidation. It had been a great
vessel of three masts but had lain
so long exposed to the injuries of
the weather that it was hung about
with great webs of dripping seaweed,
and on the deck of it shore bushes
had taken root and now flourished
thick with flowers. It was a sad
sight, but it showed us that the
anchorage was calm. "Now," said Hands, "look there;
there's a pet bit for to beach a
ship in. Fine flat sand, never a
cat's paw, trees all around of it,
and flowers a-blowing like a garding
on that old ship." "And once beached," I inquired, "how
shall we get her off again?" "Why, so," he replied: "you take a
line ashore there on the other side
at low water, take a turn about one
of them big pines; bring it back,
take a turn around the capstan, and
lie to for the tide. Come high
water, all hands take a pull upon
the line, and off she comes as sweet
as natur'. And now, boy, you stand
by. We're near the bit now, and
she's too much way on her. Starboard
a
little—so—steady—starboard—larboard
a little—steady—steady!" So he issued his commands, which I
breathlessly obeyed, till, all of a
sudden, he cried, "Now, my hearty,
luff!" And I put the helm hard up,
and the HISPANIOLA swung round
rapidly and ran stem on for the low,
wooded shore. The excitement of these last
manoeuvres had somewhat interfered
with the watch I had kept hitherto,
sharply enough, upon the coxswain.
Even then I was still so much
interested, waiting for the ship to
touch, that I had quite forgot the
peril that hung over my head and
stood craning over the starboard
bulwarks and watching the ripples
spreading wide before the bows. I
might have fallen without a struggle
for my life had not a sudden
disquietude seized upon me and made
me turn my head. Perhaps I had heard
a creak or seen his shadow moving
with the tail of my eye; perhaps it
was an instinct like a cat's; but,
sure enough, when I looked round,
there was Hands, already half-way
towards me, with the dirk in his
right hand. We must both have cried out aloud
when our eyes met, but while mine
was the shrill cry of terror, his
was a roar of fury like a charging
bully's. At the same instant, he
threw himself forward and I leapt
sideways towards the bows. As I did
so, I let go of the tiller, which
sprang sharp to leeward, and I think
this saved my life, for it struck
Hands across the chest and stopped
him, for the moment, dead. Before he could recover, I was safe
out of the corner where he had me
trapped, with all the deck to dodge
about. Just forward of the main-mast
I stopped, drew a pistol from my
pocket, took a cool aim, though he
had already turned and was once more
coming directly after me, and drew
the trigger. The hammer fell, but
there followed neither flash nor
sound; the priming was useless with
sea-water. I cursed myself for my
neglect. Why had not I, long before,
reprimed and reloaded my only
weapons? Then I should not have been
as now, a mere fleeing sheep before
this butcher. Wounded as he was, it was wonderful
how fast he could move, his grizzled
hair tumbling over his face, and his
face itself as red as a red ensign
with his haste and fury. I had no
time to try my other pistol, nor
indeed much inclination, for I was
sure it would be useless. One thing
I saw plainly: I must not simply
retreat before him, or he would
speedily hold me boxed into the
bows, as a moment since he had so
nearly boxed me in the stern. Once
so caught, and nine or ten inches of
the blood-stained dirk would be my
last experience on this side of
eternity. I placed my palms against
the main-mast, which was of a
goodish bigness, and waited, every
nerve upon the stretch. Seeing that I meant to dodge, he
also paused; and a moment or two
passed in feints on his part and
corresponding movements upon mine.
It was such a game as I had often
played at home about the rocks of
Black Hill Cove, but never before,
you may be sure, with such a wildly
beating heart as now. Still, as I
say, it was a boy's game, and I
thought I could hold my own at it
against an elderly seaman with a
wounded thigh. Indeed my courage had
begun to rise so high that I allowed
myself a few darting thoughts on
what would be the end of the affair,
and while I saw certainly that I
could spin it out for long, I saw no
hope of any ultimate escape. Well, while things stood thus,
suddenly the HISPANIOLA struck,
staggered, ground for an instant in
the sand, and then, swift as a blow,
canted over to the port side till
the deck stood at an angle of
forty-five degrees and about a
puncheon of water splashed into the
scupper holes and lay, in a pool,
between the deck and bulwark. We were both of us capsized in a
second, and both of us rolled,
almost together, into the scuppers,
the dead red-cap, with his arms
still spread out, tumbling stiffly
after us. So near were we, indeed,
that my head came against the
coxswain's foot with a crack that
made my teeth rattle. Blow and all,
I was the first afoot again, for
Hands had got involved with the dead
body. The sudden canting of the ship
had made the deck no place for
running on; I had to find some new
way of escape, and that upon the
instant, for my foe was almost
touching me. Quick as thought, I
sprang into the mizzen shrouds,
rattled up hand over hand, and did
not draw a breath till I was seated
on the cross-trees. I had been saved by being prompt;
the dirk had struck not half a foot
below me as I pursued my upward
flight; and there stood Israel Hands
with his mouth open and his face
upturned to mine, a perfect statue
of surprise and disappointment. Now that I had a moment to myself, I
lost no time in changing the priming
of my pistol, and then, having one
ready for service, and to make
assurance doubly sure, I proceeded
to draw the load of the other and
recharge it afresh from the
beginning. My new employment struck Hands all
of a heap; he began to see the dice
going against him, and after an
obvious hesitation, he also hauled
himself heavily into the shrouds,
and with the dirk in his teeth,
began slowly and painfully to mount.
It cost him no end of time and
groans to haul his wounded leg
behind him, and I had quietly
finished my arrangements before he
was much more than a third of the
way up. Then, with a pistol in
either hand, I addressed him. "One more step, Mr. Hands," said I,
"and I'll blow your brains out! Dead
men don't bite, you know," I added
with a chuckle. He stopped instantly. I could see by
the working of his face that he was
trying to think, and the process was
so slow and laborious that, in my
new-found security, I laughed aloud.
At last, with a swallow or two, he
spoke, his face still wearing the
same expression of extreme
perplexity. In order to speak he had
to take the dagger from his mouth,
but in all else he remained unmoved.
"Jim," says he, "I reckon we're
fouled, you and me, and we'll have
to sign articles. I'd have had you
but for that there lurch, but I
don't have no luck, not I; and I
reckon I'll have to strike, which
comes hard, you see, for a master
mariner to a ship's younker like
you, Jim." I was drinking in his words and
smiling away, as conceited as a cock
upon a wall, when, all in a breath,
back went his right hand over his
shoulder. Something sang like an
arrow through the air; I felt a blow
and then a sharp pang, and there I
was pinned by the shoulder to the
mast. In the horrid pain and
surprise of the moment—I scarce can
say it was by my own volition, and I
am sure it was without a conscious
aim—both my pistols went off, and
both escaped out of my hands. They
did not fall alone; with a choked
cry, the coxswain loosed his grasp
upon the shrouds and plunged head
first into the water. |
