CHAPTER XXIV.

HOW THE SHIP BROACHED TO.

At the time of this outbreak the _Hermione_ was, as we have stated, somewhere about 100 miles off the mouth of Algoa Bay, and not, as Pedro had calculated, near the entrance of the Mozambique Channel.

Hurried, actually thrust into the cabin by the hands of Morley Ashton, Dr. Heriot, and others, Ethel and Rose Basset's terror and astonishment may be imagined; and greatly were these emotions increased by the sounds they heard on deck--the sudden uproar, the stamping of feet, as of men engaged in a deadly struggle, the oaths, imprecations, and occasional discharge of pistols.

If Captain Phillips and his friends were disagreeably surprised to find that the crew possessed some four or five old ship pistols, which they had hitherto kept secretly in their sea-chests, they, on the other hand, were much more disappointed on discovering that the officers and passengers were fully prepared for them--alike forewarned and forearmed; and the sudden appearance of their pistols and revolvers, as shot after shot flashed from them in the clear tropical moonlight, baffled the first rush aft of Pedro and his brother, for most of the crew, following Hawkshaw's prudent example, suddenly retreated to the forecastle, their own peculiar region and quarters.

A ball from Pedro's pistol found a harmless victim, for he shot dead poor Joe the steward. But at the same moment a ball from Heriot's revolver grazed the assassin's left ear, tearing a ring out of it, and as he rushed back with a bewildered air, at first believing himself to be shot through the head, Morrison followed him past the long-boat, showering, with a capstan-bar, such blows upon him as would have prostrated any other man than Barradas, who turned twice upon his pursuer, to whom he opposed in vain his clubbed pistol and the blade of his Albacete knife.

Poor Mr. Foster, who, as related, had taken the wheel from Morrison, was now assailed by Badger, the long Yankee, who had gathered himself up from the deck, where he had lain sprawling.

"Villain!" exclaimed Foster, as he clung to the spokes of the wheel, which he dared not relinquish lest the ship should bring to by the lee, and as he glanced the while with irrepressible agitation at the upheld knife of the wretch who had grasped his collar, and held it at the full length of his long, lean, muscular left arm. "Villain, would you lift your knife to me?"

"Ah, you 'tarnal Britisher, I would choke you like a weasel," hissed the Yankee through his yellow teeth.

"Do be quiet, Badger," urged Foster, as he thought of his poor wife and little ones asleep in their beds at home. "Have you no pity--no fear?"

"Nayther, I reckon," snivelled the Yankee.

"No conscience?" asked Foster, as he felt the grasp tightening on his collar.

"Conscience be d----! as we say in Californy. I left my blessed conscience at Cape Horn long ago. Do you understand that?" said Badger, ferociously.

Down came the threatening knife, flashing in the moonshine. Foster quitted the wheel and leaped aside, leaving the collar of his jacket in Badger's hand; but the point of the blade gave him a severe slash on the right shoulder.

Filled with rage and fear, the second mate broke away, and plunged down the companion-stair into the steerage in search of a loaded weapon. Tom Bartelot and Mr. Basset followed him, on the same errand, and the crew, believing that a fight had begun, once more made a furious rush aft, and thus, being now minus five of their number, the captain, with Morley, Heriot, and Noah Gawthrop, found themselves driven, under a shower of blows and missiles, past the break of the quarter-deck, and, ultimately, down below, where they all fell in a heap upon Mr. Quail, who had turned out, half dressed, on hearing the row on deck.

The last to effect a retreat was Morrison, who had emptied the six barrels of his revolver without hitting anyone, but having a capstan-bar, a weapon to which he was more accustomed, he gave way, step by step, with his face to the foe; but ultimately he was beaten down the companion-stair, covered with blood, which flowed from a wound on his right temple.

Fighting inch by inch, there is little doubt that, at this crisis, the crew might have forced an entrance to the cabin, especially if some had entered by the skylight; but now a yell burst from them, followed by a tremendous crash, and the sound as of a vast ruin descending on the deck.

On Foster abandoning the helm, the ship, which had been running with a spanking breeze upon her starboard quarter, broached to; by swinging round, all her sails were taken aback upon the weather-side, the sudden strain was more than her spars could bear, and the fall of a maintopmast, which had been sprung (_i.e._, split) in a recent gale, brought down the fore and mizzen, with all their yards and hamper, clean off at the cap of each; and thus, in a moment the beautiful _Hermione_ was a scene of as great a ruin and disorder aloft as she was below.

The wilderness of masts, yards, booms, sails, blocks, and gearing that suddenly descended on their heads somewhat cooled the ardour of the crew, and severely injured two or three of them; but Pedro, a thorough seaman, gave instant orders to cut, clear away, and coil up, while, rushing to the wheel, his powerful hands soon made it revolve; the _Hermione's_ head fell round, once more the wind came on her quarter, her fore and main courses, jib, and driver swelled out before it, and she stood on, but slowly, crippled and shorn of all her fair proportions.

This unexpected misfortune to the mutineers gave those whom they had for a time vanquished and driven below time to gather their energies, to reload their weapons, consider their position and resources, and to put in requisition those plans originally formed for the defence of the cabin, their stronghold, and chiefly of the two Misses Basset.

The huge trunk, filled with Mr. Basset's law books (which fortunately came too late on board to be shot with other lumber into the hold) was slued round, and jammed across the cabin-door, which was further secured by its usual bolts and fastenings.

Heriot's pair of pistols, two revolvers, a double-barrelled fowling-piece, and a sharp hatchet, were their only weapons, but they had plenty of ammunition, all made up in cartridges, and so they resolved to expend it to some purpose.

"My ship! my ship! my poor ship! everything seems to have gone to the devil aloft," groaned Captain Phillips, in an agony of rage and mortification.

"Oh, papa--dear papa--what has happened? What means that dreadful noise on deck?" asked Ethel and Rose together, as they clung to their bewildered parent, and saw with alarm their companions' blanched, flushed, and, in some instances, blood-stained faces. Dr. Heriot and Morley Ashton were both bleeding; the former from a scalp wound, and the latter from a cut in the lip. "Oh, papa! tell us what all this means?"

"It means that those infernal villains have risen to murder us all, ladies; but don't be alarmed for all that," said Captain Phillips, as he reloaded his revolver, while a horrible hurly-burly was heard on deck, where the crew, under the orders of Barradas the elder, were cutting away or securing so much of the rigging and spars as might be useful to them, even to bringing on board the jib-boom, which had been snapped off at the cap, and hung in the guys at the end of the whiskers, with the sail drooping in the water; and all the while they worked amid a storm of oaths, imprecations, and threats.

Among other things cast adrift was the body of poor Joe, whose pockets were soon investigated--his pipe, knife, tobacco-box, and a few coppers appropriated by Messrs. Sharkey and Bolter--after which they cast him over to leeward with as much indifference as if he had been a dead gull or bit of "old horse" (_i.e._, mouldy junk).

Meanwhile, overcome with horror and anxiety for the probable future of his two daughters, poor Mr. Basset was completely bewildered, and, for a time, as Captain Phillips said, "had no more pith in him than an empty sack." Reclined on the stern-locker, he pressed his daughters to his breast, keeping, as if for protection, an arm round each, and he exclaimed more than once:

"Oh God! most merciful of all who show mercy, protect my poor girls."

"He has committed their protection to you, sir," said Tom Bartelot, rather impatiently; "only show a little pluck, like the rest of us, and we shall weather these villains yet--aye, work them to an oil, if they don't fire or sink the ship."

"Oh, what new--what sudden horror is this?" exclaimed Ethel, wringing her hands, and then clasping them over her temples, while she turned her flashing eyes on each in succession.

"No sudden 'orror at all, marm," said Noah Gawthrop, as he tightened his waist-belt, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and looked everywhere about to spit, but, being in the cabin, restrained the impulse; "we've known o' the rig they were goin' to run this long time past."

"And Hawkshaw?" asked Ethel, shuddering.

"Is a leader among them," replied Morley, applying a handkerchief to his bleeding lip. "I never had a better opportunity for clearing off old scores than to-night, but somehow he never----"

"Oh, Morley, dear! leave vengeance to other hands," said Ethel, imploringly. "Dear, dear papa," she added, laying her pale brow on Mr. Basset's cheek, "and so it was this knowledge--this horrible dread hanging over you--that has given such a mournful tenderness to your voice and manner for some time past."

Her voice, so mellow and thrilling, pierced poor Basset's heart: he could only answer by his tears.

"Oh, Morley, love!" said Ethel, in a low, beseeching voice, "say something to comfort poor papa."

But Morley could only press Mr. Basset's hand in silence, for, in fact, the poor fellow knew not what to say. Rose had tied her little handkerchief round the doctor's head, and it seemed a more agreeable remedy than the piece of court-plaster he had hastily stuck on his scar.

To Ethel the watchful, mysterious, solicitous, and almost sorrowful regard which her father had so long exhibited towards herself and Rose was quite accounted for now.

"Oh, my poor papa--my own papa!" she exclaimed, as she threw her arms round his neck, and nestled with her lovely face close to his, "I have no fear of death; I would face it courageously--but you, and Rose, and Morley. Oh, I fear that the blow which kills me may kill you all, too, you love me so much--so much more than I have deserved, dear papa!"

"Alas, Ethel! it is not death only that I fear for you, my sweet and innocent lamb--and Rose----"

"Below there, ahoy!" hailed a hoarse voice down the companion-stair, after the hurly-burly had somewhat ceased on deck.

"It is the voice of that villain, Sharkey," said Quail.

"The murderer of poor Manfredi," added Dr. Heriot.

"Below there, you swabs and cork-suckers! have you all gone to sleep?" hailed the squat mutineer.

"Hollo!" responded Noah, "what do you want, gallows-bird?"

"We want the two girls. Give them up, and come on deck. Tumble up, or it will be the worse for every man jack of you."

"How so, you squab ragamuffin?" asked Captain Phillips.

"We'll drop down the skylight, and make precious short work with you all," was the hoarse response.

"Come on then, one at a time, or all together--we are ready for you," said Captain Phillips.

At the same moment the cover of the skylight was roughly wrenched off, and the chill night wind poured through the cabin, extinguishing the lamp.

A noisy and derisive cheer followed.

"Silence fore and aft. _Por vida del demonio guardad vuestra maldita garulla_ (_i.e._, "Hold your cursed clack"). Ere long I shall let you know who is captain of the ship now," cried a deep bass voice there was no mistaking, and the dark visage of Pedro Barradas was seen looking down, just as Heriot led Ethel and Rose to their cabin, when he whispered to them to take courage, and closed the door. "Surrender, and give up your arms, or I shall set fire to the ship," added Barradas.

"What will you gain by doing so?" asked Captain Phillips, feeling with his fingers if the caps on his revolver were all right, and taking a full sight at Pedro's head, which he could see above the rim of the skylight.

"Gain? Not much, certainly, unless it be vengeance," replied the Mexican, hoarsely.

"Vengeance, you miscreant? Of what can you, accuse me? Surely I never wronged you."

"I have nearly lost an ear by the hand of one among you."

"That infliction you brought upon yourself."

"If you do not surrender in less than twenty minutes, I shall fire the ship or scuttle her, and then shove off with all the boats, leaving you to drown like a rat in a trap," continued Pedro.

"Fool, as well as villain, what purpose would that serve, but to destroy you all? Do you know how far we are from land?" asked the captain.

"I know that we are off the mouth of the Mozambique, and will soon make the land by steering nor'-nor'-east," replied the mutineer, with a grin.

"You are wrong, Pedro Barradas--by Heaven you are! We are only off the Bay of Algoa."

"Well, if this wind holds good, and we keep the ship under her courses and lower studding-sails, we will make the channel soon enough for our purpose. But ha, ha! Senor Capitano, do you hear that?" he added, as the sound of axes was heard; "we are starting the main-hatch to get at the bread and spirit room, so while you starve here, we shall drink and be jolly."

Captain Phillips groaned as he heard those sounds, which indicated a further destruction of the ship; but, taking a sure aim at Pedro, he fired! The red flash and sharp report of the pistol were followed by a yell of rage.

"A miss is as good as a mile," cried Badger, the Yankee; and Pedro, whose cheek was grazed by the ball, replied by firing into the cabin a random shot, which lodged in the table; and now, with pistols and the double-barrelled fowling-piece, there ensued a regular skirmish, in which our friends, in the dark seclusion of the cabin, had all the best of it, the mutineers' mode of warfare being simply a waste of ammunition, as some four or five of them in succession continued to dart past the open skylight, down which they fired at random.

Too terrified to weep, Ethel and Rose, clasped in each other's arms, reclined on their knees against the side of their bed, with poor old nurse Folgate grovelling on the carpet beside them.

Every instant they heard the sharp reports of the pistols, and saw the explosions flashing through the slits in their cabin-door, and all unaccustomed to the horrors of such an event, they could scarcely believe that they were not in a dream.

Who could imagine that such a scene would occur on board of a London ship? But they knew not the evils that attend a mixed crew.

Ignorant of the chances and casualties of voyaging on the deep, Ethel and Rose, but particularly the former, was utterly bewildered by this terrible episode, in which she found herself and friends involved. Every shot, every sound, made her heart leap for her father and her lover.

She had pictured to herself how, with Morley by her side, she would tend for life the declining years of her only and beloved parent--tend him as her mother would have wished her to do. He, on the other hand, had hoped to tend, watch, guide, and see her and Rose far on the chequered highway of life; but now it seemed as if they were all about to be torn from each other--he to suffer a violent and cruel death, they dishonour and death together.

Rose! Rose! Poor Ethel's soul shrank within her at this crisis; but it was more with fear for dear, merry little Rose than for herself.

For some time the exciting skirmish we have described continued, without anyone being hit, apparently, either above or below, till Morley felt someone close by utter a low heavy moan, or sigh, and then fall suddenly and heavily against him.

"Quail--Mr. Quail," he exclaimed, "is this you? Are you hurt--are you hit?"

It was poor Mr. Quail who, unable to reply, fell on the floor of the cabin with blood bubbling from his mouth. A lucifer-match was promptly applied to a candle, a light procured, and the wounded man was laid on the floor of the captain's state-room, where Dr. Heriot soon discovered that he was quite dead, being shot in the head by a common nail, a proof that the ammunition of the enemy above was running short.

"My God! Poor Quail--his wife and little ones!" exclaimed honest Captain Phillips, with deep emotion. "Oh, gentlemen, when will these horrors end?"

A low groan from Mr. Basset alone replied, and the features of the hapless mate soon grew livid and ghastly in the flickering light of the candle, as the damps and the pallor of death stole over them together.

Meanwhile the crash of axes was heard in the hold, where already some of the mutineers were making their way in search of plunder, through the cargo, hoping to make a breach in the bulkhead and reach the store where the ship's provisions and spirits were kept.