CHAPTER IV.

MAN OVERBOARD.

A sudden squall, and a sea which heavily swept over the poop with a shower of blinding spray, that hissed away amidships, had first driven Rose and Heriot below, and just as they retired hand in hand, they heard the voice of Manfredi, shouting through the wild blast:

"Below there! all hands ahoy! come, tumble up to take in sail!"

Then the men were heard grumbling and swearing as they hurried half-dressed out of the forecastle bunks, to assist the watch; next followed the orders "to let go," "haul down," "clew up," amid the cracking and flapping of the canvas, as the topsails were lowered almost to the caps; the royals and topgallant sails taken off her; flying gib and studding sails all in in a twinkling, though for a time the wind howled fearfully, and the ship careered before its fierce breath almost on her beam-ends. Little more than steering canvas was left upon her, for wild and black was the Atlantic squall that had come suddenly over her, accompanied by torrents of rain, that rattled on deck, like a tempest of rouncival peas, while ever and anon the red lightning flashed vividly at the horizon, but still the brave ship flew on.

"By the sky to-day I knew we should have a gale to-night," said Captain Phillips cheerfully, as he donned his storm-jacket of shiny oilskin, and came on deck.

"'A mackerel sky and grey mares' tails Make lofty ships carry lowly sails.'

A glorious sailor is Manfredi! How smartly he had all the cloth off her. But we'll need our best umbrellas to-night."

Suddenly, from the forecastle, through the many wild sounds of the squall, there came the appalling cry:

"A man overboard! hard down! hard down!"

Other shouts followed.

"Ahoy! heave over the life buoy! mainsail to the wind! clear away a boat!"

Captain Phillips grasped his trumpet; Mr. Quail--who had just turned into his berth with his clothes on, "all standing"--Dr. Heriot, and Hawkshaw sprang on deck at this new alarm.

"Hard down with the helm!" cried Phillips; "to the braces, men! let go, and haul! Back with the mainyard! Ready the starboard quarter boat, and cut away the life-buoy!"

The mainsail was speedily laid to the mast, though there was great danger lest, in such a gale, it might be carried away entirely, and, in the excitement of the moment, even the most sullen of that ill-assorted crew worked cheerily and well.

Alternately the huge ship rose and sank on the mighty rolling waves; and now the spray flew from stem to stern over her in white and blinding sheets, plashing over her courses, and hissing under the arched leaches of the bellying sails.

Upheaved she rose on the foaming surge one moment, to sink down into the yawning trough of the sea the next, loose spars, buckets, handspikes, and everything else adrift, going to leeward, and overboard.

A faint but despairing cry came from the waves; another followed, as the drowning man, struggling hard for existence, rose on the white, foamy crest of a wave, and then sank for ever into the black and gaping bosom of the midnight sea.

Then, after some minutes of the most painful and lingering suspense, the captain, the doctor, and others, came to the conclusion that all was over, and that the poor victim must have perished, for it was found impossible to lower a boat with safety, or with the least hope of success, in such a sea or squall.

"Fill the mainyard, Mr. Foster," said the captain to the second mate. And he sighed bitterly as he spoke, for John Phillips was a kind and good-hearted man. "God receive the poor fellow! We could do nothing more. Let the ship lie her course; muster the hands aft, please, and see who is missing."

The yard heads were filled; the vessel's bow fell off from the wind, and there was less strain upon her now, and less spray broke over her, as she tore through the sea at liberty.

Aft the mizzenmast the drenched seamen mustered.

"Boy Joe! steward! bring a lantern," said the captain.

And now, by its weird light, were to be seen the two dark and sullen Barradas; Bill Badger, the bulky and insolent Yankee; the square, squat, and ugly Sharkey, with his head bandaged up; the Messieurs Brewser, Batter, Cribbit, and others of that remarkable crew.

"Are all present, Mr. Quail?" asked the captain, as the mate passed the lantern along the dripping line.

"All except _one_, sir," replied Mr. Quail, whose face wore a very ashy hue and alarmed expression.

"Who is it?"

"Mr. Manfredi, sir; he is nowhere on deck."

"'Twas his watch, was it not?" said Phillips, starting.

"Yes, sir."

"Good Heavens, can it be?" exclaimed the captain, in an agitated voice, as the threat of Sharkey occurred to him. "If there has been foul play to-night, I say woe to the perpetrator of it!"

Some one now uttered a snorting laugh in the dark.

"Let us search below," said the doctor, taking the steward's lantern, and proceeding to examine in person.

He did so, and soon returned to report that no trace of Adrian Manfredi could be found, so the crew were dismissed.

"Who was the person that called out 'Man overboard?'--who saw him last?" demanded the captain, as they descended to the cabin.

"I did, sir," said Joe the steward, as he closed the door. "I was stowing the jib in its netting with Pedro Barradas," he continued, in a low voice, as if afraid to be overheard. "Mr. Manfredi was standing on the topgallant forecastle, holding on by a rope and directing us. Our heads were stooped over our work, when all of a sudden we heard a cry. On looking one way, I saw him falling into the sea; on looking another, I saw a man in his shirt-sleeves, armed with a capstan bar, slipping down into the forecastle bunks."

"A man?" repeated the listeners.

"Did he strike him overboard?" asked the captain.

"We supposed so," replied Joe, in a whisper, and glancing furtively at the skylight.

"We."

"That is, Pedro Barradas and I. He laughed--"

"The mutinous villain!"

"And tried to stop me from shouting to put the helm down."

"Did you see the man's face?"

"No, sir."

"Who do you think he was--speak!" said Captain Phillips, perceiving that Joe, a fat, good-natured fellow, with flabby cheeks, and large boiled-looking gray eyes, hesitated through fear, "speak!"

"I am frightened, in this ship, almost to say who I thought he was."

"In this ship--right! Was it Sharkey, eh?"

The steward's teeth chattered. He again glanced fearfully at the skylight, and gave a nod in the affirmative, and the captain struck his right heel on the floor.

"There has been murder committed on board to-night; yes, a most foul murder!" he continued, turning by a mere coincidence to Hawkshaw, who, on hearing the terrible word, grew deadly pale, and trembled violently from head to foot. "Would to Heaven that I had only half-a-dozen good hard-a-weather English seamen to keep this coloured lot in order. Even Lascars of the lowest caste were better than what we have!"

The consternation in the cabin was very great, and the conversation continued below, and the storm above, till Mr. Quail, with many unpleasant forebodings, went on deck to relieve the watch at four o'clock A.M., when the wind began to abate and the sea to go down.