CHAPTER III.

THE DOOR IN THE BULKHEAD.

We left the leaders of the mutiny in the forecastle, consulting, in their own coarse and blustering fashion, about the capture of the cabin, and thus acquiring entire possession of the ship.

"Batten down the companion-hatch--kiver up the skylight with tarpaulin," suggested the short, thickset ruffian Sharkey, "and then smoke 'em out, like rats."

"Wa-al, but look ye here--the tew gals," drawled Badger, inserting an enormous quid in his mouth with the point of his jack-knife. "Would ye smoke 'em tew, till they went dead, eh?"

"Aye, the senoritas," added Zuares, "that would never do; they are the best plunder on board--the plunder most to my taste, at least."

"The cabin we must and shall get," said Pedro, grinding his teeth. "While one of these men aft is permitted to live, the ship cannot be said to be ours."

"And if one should escape, anyhow," added Sharkey, "we might have some man-o'-war in our wake before we knew where we were."

"Dead men tell no tales, darn 'em, that's old buccaneer style, long afore Kidd went a-cruising in the _Vulture_," said the Yankee; "and they or we must be gone coons, or, airthquakes and ginger! you can't reckon on what may 'appen, you can't."

"And they have possession of the bread, beef, and spirit room, and all that we most require," resumed Pedro, "for we can't eat the dry goods and hardware in the forehold, mates; so the knife it must be."

As the pirate spoke, a fierce gleam came into his eyes, and in his blind wrath he drove his knife repeatedly into the lid of the sea-chest, around which they were seated, and which proved to be the property of his American compatriot, Mr. Badger.

"Walley of Gehosophat! airthquakes and alligators!" exclaimed that personage; "keep calm dew, Pedro. Yew are getting tew riled, capting. I'd like to gouge old Phillips, rayther, and prison the whole bilin' of 'em aft!"

"Massa Pedro, Massa Barradas," said Quaco, the black cook, looking suddenly out of his berth with a tremendous grin on his sable visage, "I could tell you something funny--yaas! yaas!--I could."

"_Maldita!_ then why the devil don't you tell it," growled Pedro; "time is short, and I can't get the Malay proas out of my head."

"You know where the wite gals sleep?"

"Yes; out with what you have got to say, you dark-skinned fool."

"Yaas! yaas!" grinned Quaco, whose yellow eyeballs gleamed with mischief.

"Presto, quick, or my knife may tickle your ribs," roared Pedro, setting down a bottle, from which he had sucked the last drop of a mixture of champagne and brandy, compounded by Badger.

"Under the companion-stair, Massa Pedro, a door opens with a slide into the wite gals' cabin."

"_Demonio!_ do you say so, darkey?"

"Can yew make tracks ahead now, capting?"

"You are certain of this, Quaco?" said Pedro, bending his black brows as he looked at the cook.

"Sartain as that um a living nigger, Massa Pedro, yaas! yaas! Boy Joe, the steward, showed it to Quaco many a time."

"And what use would you make of this door, Quaco?"

"What use?" repeated the negro, putting out a long, red tongue, while a leer, like that of a fiend, shone in his black, glittering, and half-shut eyes.

"_Hombre!_ yes, speak."

"Get at the wite gals fust, and the cabin arter--yaas! yaas!--eh, Massa Pedro?"

"I reckons, Pedro, that the darkey is the only one among us with any brains in his skull, a thick 'un though it be," said Badger; "but this sliding door----"

"I will look to it now," said Pedro, staggering up, for he was very tipsy. "_Cuidado_, mates--take care who follows me till I call for help," he added, with a dark glance at Hawkshaw, who eyed him with sullen resentment from a corner of the comfortless den, of which he was now one of the occupants.

"Oh, Barradas," he exclaimed, "if you have a human soul, spare them. They will surely die."

"Oh, _demonio_, yes--yes. These fine ladies have a habit of dying, and always coming to again," said Zuares, laughing.

"Make way there," exclaimed Pedro, brandishing his knife with something of mock and more of real ferocity. "One of them is mine by a cast of the dice, and mine she shall be," he added, hoarsely and huskily, while reeling towards the ladder.

"It is for my sins I am here," groaned Hawkshaw.

"Well, it is not likely for your virtues that you are among us, mate," said Zuares, laughing.

"_Cuidar el lobo_ (Beware of the wolf)!" said Pedro, with a cruel grin, as he went up through the scuttle, or little hatch of the forecastle, and went aft with a stealthy step.

Inflamed to a dangerous pitch of rashness, lust, and savagery by the champagne and brandy, which he had been mixing and imbibing freely, this powerful and agile ruffian left the bunks on his fatal errand.

Save Bolter, the Canadian, who was at the wheel, and half tipsy too, there was not a man on deck now. Under her courses the ship was going before the wind, with a gentle breeze, which fanned pleasantly the hot, flushed face of Pedro Barradas, who paused for a moment, looked aloft, and then at the horizon.

The moon had newly risen from the sea to the eastward. To the west a line of deep crimson light, but transparent as the purest crystal, lingered between the dark horizon of the ocean and a long straight bank of black cloud, and the wave-tops, of a deeper tint than indigo, were seen to rise and fall incessantly between. Amid this low and blood-red belt of light, a few bright stars were twinkling.

Though weird and impressive, the night was solemn and pleasing; but all its gentle influences were lost on the ruffianly soul of Pedro Barradas.

Being barefooted, he crept along unheard, and at the companion-way he paused to listen.

No sound came from the cabin; but he knew well that there were armed watchers below--armed better than himself--so he looked carefully to the powder in the pan of his old flint-lock and brass-barrelled Spanish pistol, felt if his knife was loose in its sheath, and then crept softly down the companion-stair, and past the cabin-door, on the inside of which Morley Ashton was seated on Mr. Basset's trunk of law-books, as already described, listening to the casual sounds, amongst which he heard neither the large bare feet of Pedro nor the creaking of the stairs, as the barricade and the straining of the ship's timbers muffled everything in the steerage.

Stooping down on his hands and knees, with his black eyes close to the bulkhead, or partition, Pedro felt about for the door mentioned by the mischievous Quaco, and discovered it at once.

It was an aperture formed in the bulkhead, about four feet high and nearly three feet broad; it slid in grooves, like a window-sash, and could be pulled up by two brass knobs, screwed into the middle of the door for that purpose. It had evidently been made for the conveyance of stores, casks, bales, &c., in and out, when that cabin was not required by passengers; and the strong hands of the swarthy Pedro almost trembled with ferocious joy and eagerness as he grasped the knobs, and essayed to remove the only barrier that lay between him and his helpless victims.

Stiffened by long disuse, it refused for a time to yield. At the third effort he started it, and a ray of light shone out below its lower edge. Stealthily as a tiger cat, Pedro paused to listen. All was still within, and the perfect silence there assured him that the two young ladies and their old attendant slept.

"_Bueno!_" he muttered, with a chuckle of satisfaction.

Then he inserted his hard, copper-coloured hands, and slowly and gently drew the door up within its slide, its creaking being lost amid the other sounds incident to the motion of the ship.

Stooping, he entered, and found himself almost within arm's length of the bed wherein the sisters lay, and he held his obnoxious breath as he drew nearer.

Accustomed to take every precaution, and fertile in expedients, he glanced now at the cabin-door, and saw a brass bolt on the inside. This he softly shot into its place, to prevent surprise or interruption by the occupants of the larger cabin.

Now a sound made his heart start, his eyes gleam, and his hand clutch the knife in his girdle; but it was only a prolonged snore from the old attendant, Nance Folgate.

While his dark eyes flashed with impatience, the swarthy Spanish American drew near, and looked boldly and steadily upon the sleeping girls. Both seemed so delicately pale, so beautiful and gentle, when hushed together in repose, that for a moment, as the gust of evil passion mounted to his head, he knew not upon which to pounce.

Both sisters were only partially undressed, but the closeness of the little cabin had made them partly throw off the coverlet.

Rose lay with her soft cheek reposing on Ethel's bare white shoulder, and their rounded arms, so taper and delicately fair, were clasped about each other. Shining like flossy silk, a dark tress of Ethel's hair mingled with her sister's lighter braids.

A smile that was singularly sweet played about the childlike mouth of Rose; but Ethel's face was pale and placid, and the length of the dark lashes that fringed her snow-white eyelids imparted a charming softness to her face, while a half sigh that escaped her from time to time made her swelling bosom heave beneath her sister's cheek.

Never had their atrocious visitor looked on two such fair, soft, English faces, nestling thus a-bed; and there was such an air of enchanting innocence, candour, and perfect modesty about the two sleeping sisters, that, instead of calming the daring thoughts which swelled in the heart of Barradas, it served only to add fresh stings to them.

We have said that, for a moment, he was doubtful which to seize. Rose was certainly the smallest and most easily borne; but Ethel's larger form tempted him the most.

"_Que bonita!_ it shall be you," he muttered.

Drawing from his muscular bull-like throat a dirty, greasy necktie, he suddenly twisted it tightly over Ethel's face, and particularly across her mouth, so that to make an outcry was impossible on her part.

He then drew her out of bed, and, in so doing, awoke Rose, whose shrill shriek at once reached the ears of Morley Ashton.

"_A los infernos!_" cried Pedro, savagely.

His knife was his first idea; but, as the girl's life was not worth taking, he dashed out the cabin-lamp with his clenched hand, tore Ethel with brutal violence through the aperture by which he had entered, and shut the sliding door with a crash, preventing, but unintentionally, the entrance of his amiable brother Zuares, who had glided after him like a tawny snake, less with views of fraternal assistance than with those of doing a little abduction on his own account.

Rose fell senseless on her face; but Ethel, recovering something of her native energy and strength, grasped the rail of the companion-stair with such vigour that all the muscle of Barradas was required to tear her tender hands away from it, and then, with, an awful imprecation of mingled rage and triumph, he sprang up and bore her along the deck.

On lifting up Ethel's Indian shawl, part of it was found wedged in the port, or door in the bulkhead, thus showing at once the place and mode of ingress.

But so firmly had Barradas's strong hand shut it down that it was not until after several efforts made by Phillips and Bartelot, the avenue was opened. Then Morley pressed through, and pistol in hand, rushed like a madman on deck, just in time to see Ethel--his tender and beloved Ethel--borne by Pedro down the fore-scuttle, into the very den and stronghold of the mutineers!

As he sprang forward, an empty cask--part of the plunder--started from the hold, rolled against him; he slipped, and fell heavily on the deck. Then, on rising, half stunned, he heard the sound of pistol-shots in the forecastle, followed by a despairing cry from Ethel, and a man's hoarse howl of agony.

At that awful moment the heart of Morley died within him, and his blood seemed turned to water.