Chapter 8

"This is most disgusting," said Miss Sackett. "I'm as hungry as a bear, and here we'll be out for the Lord only knows how long. I think you might have seen to it that I had some breakfast." And she looked at Mr. Bell, our third officer.

"There's water under the stern sheets," suggested that officer, meekly. But the young lady gave a pretty pout, and shrugged her shoulders.

In a little while we stopped again and hailed loudly. The only sound in answer was the low hiss of a sea, which had begun to make with the breeze, and which broke softly ahead.

Suddenly we heard the distant clang of a ship's bell. It sounded far away to starboard.

"Give way, bullies, strong," I cried, and the next instant we were heading toward it. Then it died away, and we heard it no more.

After ten minutes' pull, we stopped again, for fear of overreaching our mark. We hailed and got no answer. Then we rowed slowly along, listening in the hope they would ring again. In a little while we lay drifting, and all hands strained their ears for sound.

Suddenly something alongside gave a loud snort. I started up, and the men turned their faces forward. A deeper shadow seemed to hang over us, and the breeze died away. Then the snort was repeated, and a voice spoke forth:--

"Of all the damned fools I ever see, that second mate stands way ahead. Now I onct thought Trunnell didn't know nothin', but that young whelp is a pizenous fool, an' must be ripped up the back. Sackett, old man, your daughter can't leave ye. Here she be alongside with them boatmen agin."

The voice was drawling and not loud, but I recognized it fast enough.

In an instant the boat's bow struck the side of the _Sovereign_, and we saw Andrews leaning over the rail near us, looking down with a sour smile.

There was nothing to do but go aboard, for we had nothing to eat in the small boat, and the danger of getting lost entirely was too great to make another attempt to get back to the _Pirate_ while the fog lasted.

Miss Sackett was helped over the rail by her father, who came up immediately, and the rest scrambled over with some choice English oaths as they commented upon their luck. Andrews gave me a queer look as I climbed past him, and for an instant I was ready to spring upon him. But he gave a snort of disgust and turned away.

Chips, Jim, and the others of our crew came aboard, and the small boat was dropped astern where she towed easily, the breeze just giving the sunken ship steering way under the storm topsail.

The beef barrels were in no way injured by their immersion in salt water, so Captain Sackett gave the steward orders to prepare a meal for all hands upon the cabin stove. Salt junk and tinned fruits were served for everybody who cared to eat them, and afterward all hands felt better. The ship's water-tanks were full of good water, and as she listed considerably to starboard under the gentle breeze, owing to her water-logged condition, the port tank was accessible from the deck pipe.

I had enough to eat before coming out, and the predicament we were in did not tend to strengthen my appetite. I, however, made out to sit down at the cabin table with Captain Sackett, Andrews, who was now his mate, and our third officer. Miss Sackett joined us, and we fell to.

No sooner had Andrews started to shovel in the good junk, and Mr. Bell the fruit, than Sackett arose from the table and looked severely down upon them. Fortunately, my satisfied appetite had prevented any unnecessary hurry to eat on my part, for our new skipper frowned heavily.

"I wish to give thanks, O Lord," said he, raising his eyes toward the skylight and dropping his voice into a dignified tone, "for thy kind mercy in delivering us from the perils of the deep. Make us duly thankful for thy mercy and for the food thou hast seen fit to place before us."

"Amen," sounded a gruff voice beside me.

I looked at Andrews, but he appeared to pay no attention whatever to what was transpiring. Then I turned to Sackett to see if he had taken offence.

The stout, ruddy-faced skipper seemed to be changed to stone for an instant, and his fixed glare was full upon Andrews.

The ruffian appeared to enjoy the situation, for he gave a fierce snort and turned his face to the skipper.

"No offence, old man, sit down and eat your grub. There's no use working up unchristian-like feeling between us simply because I'm not going to let any damn foolishness stand between me and my vittles. Eat while ye may, says I, and God bless you for a kind-hearted, gentle skipper. You says yourself that the Lord helps them as helps themselves, which goes to show I'll just make a stab for another piece o' that junk before some other son of a gun runs afoul of it an' helps himself. Which would be goin', o' course, agin the will o' the Lord."

Sackett hardly breathed. His face turned purple with rage. Andrews took no notice of him save to draw a revolver from his pocket and place it on the table beside his plate.

"Sit down and eat, papa," said Miss Sackett, who was at his right hand, and as she did so she placed her hand upon his shoulder.

The touch of his daughter's hand seemed to bring the skipper back to his senses, or rather seemed to enable him to thrust his present feelings aside for her sake. He sat down and stared at Andrews for fully a minute, while that ruffian ate and winked ofttimes at Mr. Bell. Once in a while he would give a loud snort and hold his face upward for an instant. Then a sour smile would play around his ugly mouth as though he enjoyed his humor intensely. The third officer frowned severely at him several times, and then asked in his silly voice if he would please behave himself.

The effect was altogether too ludicrous to be borne. Miss Sackett smiled in spite of herself and I almost laughed outright. Then, feeling sorry for my host, I began to eat as an excuse to hide my feelings. Sackett ate little, and in silence. When he was through, he arose and left for the deck, leaving the rest of us at the table. Miss Sackett followed him quickly, as though she instinctively felt what might happen if she remained.

I sat there looking at Andrews for some moments. He raised his head several times and gave forth his peculiar snort, smiling at Mr. Bell. "Young fellow," said he, slowly, "we've had a turn or two, an' nothin' much has come of it. Let's shake an' call it square." And he held out his hand toward me.

"I suppose you really had some cause to lose your temper," I answered, "the day I hailed you from the poop, because you were used to commanding there. I've heard many unpleasant things about you, Captain Andrews, but if you will let matters pass, I'm willing. I never turned down a man yet on hearsay when he was willing to see me half way."

Here I took his hard, muscular hand and held it for a moment. He smiled sourly again, but said no more about our fight.

"Ye see," he went on, after a moment's pause, "I'm second in command here now, and I'll show you no such treatment like what I got aboard the _Pirate_. This gun I has here is only to let a man see his limit afore it's too late. If I didn't show it, he might go too far, and then--well, I reckon ye know just what might happen, being as Trunnell has told you what a gentle, soft-hearted fellow I am. He's a rum little dog, that fuzzy-headed fellow, Trunnell. Did ye ever see sech arms in anything but an ape? 'Ell an' blazes, he could squeeze a man worse than a Coney Island maiden gal. Speakin' of maidens, jest let me hint a minute in regard to the one aboard here. She's a daisy. An out an' out daisy. An' if there's a-goin' to be any love-makin' going on around, I'll do it. Yes, sir, don't take any of my duties upon yourself. I'll do it. I'll do it. Jest remind yourself of that, Mr. Rolling, an' we'll get along fust rate. The old man don't know me yet, but Mr. Bell here--well, Mr. Bell knows a thing or two concernin' captains which'll be worth a heap of gold to some people."

The third mate looked at me with his boyish eyes for an instant, and his ruddy cheeks seemed to blush. Then he said softly:--

"What he means is, that you and the rest are only passengers, now. All the men from the _Pirate_, you know. There'll be some salvage for the four who elected to stay aboard this vessel, and if you understand it in this light, you, Chips, Jim, and the rest are welcome as passengers. If you don't, the boat is at your disposal any time."

"I see," I said. "You are also of the party elected to stay with Captain Sackett and draw salvage?"

"That's about the size of it."

I went on deck, and Chips, Jim, and the men went below to get something to eat. Sackett was standing at the break of the poop as I came up, and his daughter stood beside him. They were evidently in earnest conversation over the scene below, for as I drew near, Miss Sackett turned to me and said with some show of contempt in her voice:--

"Your captain was very kind to send us your volunteer, and we appreciate it, Mr. Rolling. Perhaps the reason he had no more men offer their services for a dangerous mission was because he was short of irons."

"If you mean that American sailors have to be ironed into danger, you are mistaken," I answered, somewhat nettled. "However, I quite agree with you in regard to this one as an awkward fellow. Better wait and see how he acts in time of danger before condemning him."

I had not the heart to tell her what a ruffian they had turned loose upon her father. It would do little good, for Sackett had passed his word to make Andrews second in command, and I knew from what I had seen of this religious skipper, that he would keep it at any cost. As for Chips, myself, and the rest of the men, seven of the _Sovereign's_ crew and ourselves, we were simply passengers, as Mr. Bell had informed us. We had no right whatever to take any part in affairs aboard, for the salvage would fall to those who elected to stay.

Captain Sackett moved away from me as I stood talking to his daughter and showed he did not wish to discuss Andrews. He went to the edge of the poop and stared down on the main deck where the water surged to and fro with the swell. He had a badly wrecked ship under him, and there was little time to lose getting her in better condition, for a sudden blow might start to break her up, or roll the seas over her so badly that no one could live aboard.

I stood for some minutes talking to the young girl, and when her father spoke to me she held out her hand, smiling. "We'll be shipmates now and you'll have a chance to show what a Yankee sailor can do. I believe in heroes--when they're civil," she added.

"Unfortunately for the worshipper of heroes, there is a great deal left to the goddess Chance, in the picking of them," I answered. "Admiration for human beings should not be hysterical."

"From the little I've seen of men during the six voyages I've made around the world in this ship with papa, your advice is somewhat superfluous," she said, with the slightest raising of the eyebrows. Then she went aft to the taffrail and stood gazing into the fog astern.

"Mr. Rolling," said Sackett, "there's no use of thinking about leaving the ship while the fog lasts, now. You might have made the _Pirate_ by close reckoning before, but she must have changed her bearings fully a half a dozen points since you started. She's under canvas, and this breeze will send her along at least six knots and drift her two with her yards aback. You might as well take hold here and get some of your men to lend a hand. The foremast is still alongside, and we might get a jury rig on her without danger of heeling her on her bilge. She's well loaded, the oil and light stuff on top, so she won't be apt to turn turtle."

It was as he said. We were all in the same ship, so as to speak, wrecked and water-logged to the southward of the Cape. The best thing to do was to take it in the right spirit and fall to work without delay, getting her in as shipshape condition as possible. The fog might last a week, and the _Pirate_ might get clear across the equator before stopping a second time in her course. I knew that even Trunnell would not wait more than a few hours; for if we did not turn up then, it was duff to dog's-belly, as the saying went, that we wouldn't heave in sight at all. The ocean is a large place for a small boat to get lost in, and without compass or sextant there would be little chance for her to overhaul a ship standing along a certain course.

The dense vapor rolled in cool masses over the wreck, and the gentle breeze freshened so that the topsail, which still drew fair from the yard, bellied out and strained away taut on a bowline, taking the wind from almost due north, or dead away from the Cape. The _Sovereign_ shoved through it log-wise under the pull, the swell roaring and gurgling along her sunken channels and through her water ports. She was making not more than a mile an hour, or hardly as fast as a man could swim, yet on she went, and as she did so, she was leaving behind our last hope of being picked up.

XII

The first night we spent aboard the hulk was far from convincing us of her seaworthiness. I had been in--a sailor is never "on board"--two ships that had seen fit to leave me above them, but their last throes were no more trying to the nerves than the ugly rooting of the _Sovereign_ into the swell during that night. At each roll she appeared to be on the way to turn her keel toward the sky, and, at a plunge slowly down a sea-slope, she made us hold our breaths. Down, down, and under she would gouge, the water roaring and seething over sunken decks amidships, and even pouring over the topgallant rail until it would seem certain she was making her way to the bottom, and I would instinctively start to rise from the cabin transom to make a break for the deck. Then she would finally stop and take a slow heave to windward, which started a Niagara thundering below the deck, where the cargo was torn loose and sent crashing about in a whirlpool.

I once read a description by an English landsman of a shipwreck, and he told how the water would rest for an instant level with the rail, seeming to pause motionless for a fraction of a second before flowing over and sinking the ship, I lay a long time wondering vaguely at an imagination that could make such a description possible, and as a heaving swell would start along the rail at the waist, and go thundering along in a roaring surf the entire length of the midship section over the edge, fetching up with a crash against the forward cabin bulkhead, I heartily wished the writer were aboard to share our sufferings. There was no spoon and teacup business about that ship, and it sometimes seemed as though seven or eight seas were rolling over her rails from all directions at once.

We were still below the thirty-eighth parallel, and consequently the morning broke early, for it was January and midsummer. I arose from the transom and went on deck at dawn, and found that the fog had lifted. Andrews met me as I came from below, and gave me a nod as I took in the horizon line at a glance.

"I reckon old hook-nose didn't care to wait any longer," he growled sourly.

I took up the glass from the wheel box, and scanned the line carefully. There was not a thing in sight save the smooth swell, ruffled now by the slight breeze, and turning a deep blue-gray in the light of the early morning. The sun rose from a cloudless horizon and shone warmly upon the wreck. The foam glistened and sparkled in the rosy sunlight, and looking over the rail I could see deep down into the clear depths. The copper on the ship's bilge looked a light gray, and even the tacks were visible. She drifted slowly along with just steering way, and the spar alongside, which the men had tried to get aboard again, made a gurgling wake with its heel.

"What do you make of it, Chips?" I asked, as the carpenter waded out in the waist and came up the poop ladder.

"Long cruise an' plenty o' water, that's about th' size av ut, don't ye think, sir?" the carpenter answered. "Trunnell has been took off, fer sure. I don't mind stickin' aboard th' bleedin' hooker if there was a chanst to get th' salvage; but no fear o' that while Andrews is here. He'll block any argument to divvy up. Seems as we might even get down under her bilge durin' this spell av weather, an' see where th' leak is located. 'Tis a butt started, most like. Them English stevedores generally rams th' stuffin' out av a ship in spite av th' marks they puts on 'em."

Captain Sackett came from below and joined us.

"I'd like to get that foremast aboard while it holds calm," said he; "and if you'll start the men, we'll have it done by noon. The sooner we all work together, the better. We ought to get sail on forward in less than a week, and then, with a jury topmast, make enough way to get in while the grub holds out."

The steward got breakfast in the after-cabin, and as soon as the men had eaten they were turned to rigging tackles to hoist the dragging foremast aboard. It was trailing by the lee rigging, which had held, and it had thumped and pounded along the ship's side to such an extent during the blow that several of her strakes were nearly punched through. It was a beautiful morning,--the blue sky overhead and the calm, blue ocean all around us. The men worked well, and even the sour ruffian, Andrews, who stood near and took charge of part of the work,--for he was an expert sailor,--seemed to brighten under the sun's influence. Chips went to work at the stump of the foremast, and cut well into it at a point almost level with the deck. This he fashioned into a scarf-joint for a corresponding cut in the piece of mast which had gone overboard. Tackles were rigged from the main-topmast head, and, by a careful bracing with guys forward and at both sides, the wreck of the foremast was slowly raised aboard.

The _Sovereign_ forged ahead faster when relieved of this load. On the second day, when we had the foremast fished, and the yards, which had held to it, safe on deck, ready to be hoisted and slung again, we found that the vessel had made over seventy miles to the westward along the thirty-eighth parallel. This was over a mile an hour; but of course some of this drift was due to the edge of the Agullas current, which was setting somewhat to the southward and westward.

Andrews had little to say to me or to Chips. In fact, he appeared to be satisfied with his lot now that he seemed sure of getting salvage money. Only Jim, who seemed to have eyes everywhere, distrusted the man, and spoke to me about him. We had now been on the wreck five days, working and rigging away at the foremast, and the calm, beautiful weather held with no signs of a change. Jim was hanging over the side, resting his feet on the fore channels while he helped Chips to bolt in a deadeye which had been torn out when the mast had gone. The sun was warm and shone brilliantly, and Chips sweated and grunted as he pounded away at the iron. There were no other men in our immediate vicinity, so after pounding away in silence for a quarter of an hour, the carpenter spoke.

"'Tis bloody well we've been treated to get no share av the wreck, whin here we are sweatin' our brains out wid th' work av refittin'," said he.

"And what the devil is a few hundred pounds of salvage to me?" growled Jim, hot with his exertion. "See here, man! I've left ten thousand behind me on the _Pirate_."

"And a pious regard fer the truth along wid it," added Chips, smiting the lug-bolt heavily.

Jim's face was so serious that I asked what he meant, and with the heat of the work upon him and the absolute hopelessness of ever getting back aboard our ship before his eyes, he spoke out:--

"Did you ever hear of Jackwell, the fellow who cracked the Bank of Sydney?" he asked.

Chips and I both admitted that we had. He was the most notorious burglar in the southern hemisphere.

"But what are ye askin' sich a question fer?" asked Chips. "What's burglars got to do wid losin' salvage?"

"He was aboard the _Pirate_, and a reward awaits the lucky dog who lands him. Just a trifle of ten thousand dollars," said Jim, fiercely.

Chips turned on him.

"Is it sure 'nuff truth ye're tellin', or jest a yarn to soothe our feelin's?" he demanded. "I don't call to mind any gallus-lookin' chap in th' watch."

"He never stood watch, and I wasn't certain of him until we were out to sea and it was too late. What d'ye suppose I tried to get Trunnell to go back for? 'Twas the old man, you stupid wood-splitter. You don't think I'm a sailor, do you?"

"'Pon me sowl, how cud I? I niver had th' heart to hurt yer feelings, Jim, me son, or ye'd have heard from me before. But what are ye, thin?" And Chips leaned back against the rail.

"Nothing but a--" and Jim opened his coat which he had always worn since coming aboard the _Pirate_. On the inside was a silver shield stamped handsomely with the insignia of the detective corps of Melbourne.

"A sea lawyer aboard a derelict. Ye do fairly well, considerin'. An' th' old man? You don't really mean it?"

"What?" I asked; "do you mean that Thompson's a burglar; and that he's Jackwell himself?"

"Nothing else, and I'm out for the reward, which I won't get now. You know now how he came aboard. If I'd only been a few hours sooner, it would have been all right. He was about to buy his passage when he found the real Captain Thompson wasn't there, and would probably not be down until the last minute. That was enough for him. Trunnell was taken clear aback by his nerve. It was a risky thing to do, but Jackwell takes risks. The man has more real cheek and impudence than any above ground, or water either, for that matter. He ain't much afraid of a fight when it comes to it, although he'd rather use his wits than his gun. That's just what makes me feel sore. But that isn't all. Andrews is going to get clear of some of us."

"He's tried it several times on me," I said, with a smile. "What makes you think he'll try again?"

"I heard enough of what was passing between that third mate and steward last night to know it. But I don't want to scare you fellows," he added, with a smile.

Chips gave a grunt of disgust, and I spat contemptuously over the side without further remark. Our manner was not lost on Jim. He sobered instantly.

"You know we're in the way aboard, if we land the hooker all right," he said slowly. "That's clear as mud. You know also that Trunnell and the rest aboard the _Pirate_ know we don't belong here and haven't any right to stay except as passengers. Trunnell saw us put off in the boat. He could see us plainly when we started and was, of course, looking at us all the time until the fog closed in. You follow this lay, don't you?"

Chips and I nodded.

"Well, if the _Sovereign_ turns up with our boat load missing and Sackett dead, she'll be in good evidence of what all hands aboard the _Pirate_ saw, won't she?"

It dawned suddenly upon us that this was a fact. Trunnell and Thompson, and in fact all hands, were looking after us, waiting for us to come back aboard before swinging the yards and standing away again on our course. There wasn't a man aboard the _Pirate_, we felt certain, who had not seen the boat start away from the ship with our men and Miss Sackett aboard her, for they had nothing in the world to do but watch. Then they had seen the fog envelop us on our way. We had not turned up, and the only thing to infer, if the _Sovereign_ came in without us, was that we had missed our way and had gone adrift in the southern ocean. The word of Andrews and the rest aboard the English ship could hardly be doubted under the circumstances. If we cut adrift in the small boat or were done away with as Jim suggested, our friends would be witnesses who would help our enemies by any testimony they might give.

Chips dropped his hammer and drew a hand across his forehead, thinking.