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The Black Bar, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 12. Dance Makes Mistakes |
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_ CHAPTER TWELVE. DANCE MAKES MISTAKES "He's tangled with the line," came in a clear voice, which Mark recognised as Bob's, and a shudder ran through him. It needs all the strict discipline and long training to prevent confusion even on board a man-of-war, in a time of emergency. Here the disposition of the men was to run to the ship's side, and shout words of advice, but a sharp command or two brought the crew back to order, and the men rushed to the boat nearest to the spot where the man was struggling in the water. It was a fine, smart young sailor, who had been standing on a stay below the bowsprit, holding on with one hand, and straining out to aim a good throw at a large fish gliding beneath the bows. He had darted the harpooning "grains" or trident, struck the fish deeply, but from inexperience he had not carefully arranged the line attached to the staff. The result being that there was a sudden rush on the part of the fish as soon as it was struck, a ring of the line was tightened round the man's arm in a firm tangled knot, and he was jerked from his hold and dragged down into the deep water for some distance before he rose again, struggling wildly and calling for help. He would get his lips above water for a moment or two, and then be dragged under again. Then he would rise to the surface and shriek for help in tones which thrilled his hearers. "Quick, my lads!" roared the first lieutenant. "Bless the man! Why can't he cut himself loose?" There was a gurgling cry and silence, as the wheels of the falls chirruped and the boat began to descend; but at that moment there was a fresh excitement plainly seen from where Mark had tottered to the bulwark, and stood looking over the side at what seemed to be a moving shadow, far down under the surface, jerked about in a most extraordinary manner. He looked round sharply, for there was a loud cry, a babble of tongues, and the shouting of fresh orders, and simultaneously a life-buoy splashed in the sea, near where the man had been dragged down; the boat was descending and a white figure was seen to leap on to the bulwarks after a desperate struggle to free itself from those who had held it, and plunge head-first into the darkening waters. It was the bigger of the two blacks, who had in his insane rage taken advantage of the confusion and excitement to escape from those who held him prisoner and leap overboard, to swim for his liberty. The loud cries of excitement increased at this fresh development of the trouble. Two were overboard now; and one of the men who had held the black had been hurled upon the deck, rose to his knees holding a wrenched arm. "He'll be drowned now," growled the man; "and sarve him right. He's as strong as a hox." Mark saw the white-clothed figure strike the surface with a heavy plunge, and go down, make a carve of light beneath the water, and rise again to shake his black head and strike out for the open sea before him, insensible for the moment to everything but the idea of getting away. He, poor fellow, in his blind ignorance, knew no more, but before he had taken many strokes there was a wild gurgling shriek behind him, as the sailor's head appeared, and the black stopped, turned, and swam back in time to seize the drowning man and hold him up just as he was dragged under again, the boat which had just kissed the water being still far-away, the _Nautilus_ having glided on. The natural result was that as the fish gave its fierce jerking tug, and the black held on to the sailor, both were dragged under; but grasping the difficulty, the black seized the line and made a desperate snatch at it, with sufficient strength to detach the grains, and they both rose again, with the rescuer swimming strongly, the rescued half drowned, helpless and unable to raise a hand to save himself. "Hold on! Coming! Swim this way," shouted the officer in charge of the boat; and as Mark looked aft at the actors in this scene, all growing more distant moment by moment, he heard Bob Howlett's shrill voice plainly in spite of the distance,--"Hold on, Soup. Coming." The words sounded incongruous--ridiculous--but the voice influenced the black, who turned and swam slowly toward them, trying to support his charge. "Can you see, Vandean?" said Mr Russell, who had crept to the bulwarks and stood beside the midshipman. "Yes, but how slow the boat is." "They are keeping afloat, then--swimming?" "I think one of them is," said Mark in a whisper. "Hah!" sighed the young lieutenant, "my eyes are dim and weak. How near is the boat now?" "Oh, it must be fifty yards away, and they're going down. The men don't try." "It seems so to us, but they must be rowing their best. Are they getting near now?" "I don't think so, and--and I can't see anybody. Oh! how horrible. Pull, pull!" "Hush?" said Russell. "I can't see, but the boat must be between us and the men. How was it all?" "I don't quite understand, but the black seemed to try and save the man overboard. Don't--don't speak! I want to see. Oh, if I only had a glass. Mine's below." "Can you see them now?" said Russell, in a faint whisper. "No, no, this is dreadful," groaned Mark; "they are so far-off, but I can see the boat. Yes, they are pulling hard now. No; they have ceased rowing, and two men are standing up now, and--too late--too late." "Hurray!" came faintly from the distance, where the shades of the fast-falling tropical night had rendered the boat nearly invisible. The cheer was echoed from on board with a tremendous shout, as the distant cry rose again. "There, they have saved them, Mr Russell," cried Mark excitedly. "Hah!" came in a low, deep sigh, as the lieutenant's legs gave way beneath him, and he would have fallen if it had not been for the sudden action of Mark, who held the poor fellow's arms pressed down over the rail as he called for help. "What is it?" cried a firm voice from close at hand, and the captain strode up. "Ah! Mr Russell fainting. Let him go, Mr Vandean. I'll drop him into this seat." The captain dragged a cane reclining-chair forward, and lowered the feeble man gently down. "There, he will soon come to," said the captain. "He is too weak to be on deck." "The sight of the men drowning upset him, sir." "Of course, Mr Vandean. It nearly upset me, who have not been ill. Not a pleasant sight to see our fellow-creatures losing their lives, and not to be able to help them. Come, Russell, man, this will not do." The lieutenant looked up at him wonderingly, as he unclosed his eyes. "Are they saved!" he said, faintly. "Thank God! Yes," replied the captain; and just then a fresh cheer arose from the cutter, which was being pulled steadily back; the cheer was answered, and soon after the boat hung from the davits, and Bob cried up excitedly to Mark,--"I say, I saved him this time, old chap." Then followed a few stern words from the captain, strictly forbidding further fishing except by the older and more experienced hands. Turning to the first lieutenant, he said in Mark's hearing,--"Now comes the difficulty. How am I to punish this black for the knife business? He cannot understand a word that is said." "No; it is difficult," replied the first lieutenant; "but it cannot be passed over." "The man evidently meant to escape, but repented on seeing a fellow-creature drowning, and saved his life. Well, that's a good trait in his character, Staples. Black and savage though he is, the man must have good qualities. I'm afraid it was a mistake to keep the two poor fellows on board." "Hasn't turned out well so far, sir," said the first lieutenant, gruffly. "There, sir, it's for you to settle about the punishment. Something must be done." "The plus seems to me to balance the minus, Staples," said the captain. "I want to do something, but these poor savages cannot understand." Then to the men gathered below, "Look here, my lads, with respect to this affray--" "Beg pardon, sir," came from forward. "Who's that?" said the captain, sternly. "How dare you interrupt!" "Axing your pardon, sir, Joe Dance, sir, coxswain fust cutter." "Well, what is it, sir?" "I only wanted to say, sir, as I was down below, and I kep' on saying to the lads, sir, as was a teasing the niggers--" "The blacks, my man," said the captain, sharply. "Yes, your honour, the black niggers, sir. 'Let 'em bide,' I says; 'what's the good o' teasing 'em? You'll only make 'em want to bite.' But they wouldn't take no notice o' what I said, sir, and kep' it up till the poor chaps turned savage like, and it was hooroar, and all the fat in the fire." "Stop, sir!" cried the captain, sternly. "Speak plain English, sir." "Yes, sir; that's what I'm a-trying to do, sir." "You say that the men were teasing and baiting the two black hands, and you advised them not to?" "Well, your honour, it was hardly adwice, because I said I'd shove my fist in someone's eye if he didn't let the poor beggars bide." Mr Staples uttered a curious sound, and the captain coughed. "Ah, well, you tried to make them stop their cowardly, unmanly tricks." "That's it, your honour." "Then now give me the names of the men who were guilty, and as each man's name is called let him stand out three paces to the front. Go on." Joe Dance scratched his head, but did not speak. "Now, coxswain, speak out. The first man?" "Adam," whispered Bob to Mark, at whose elbow he now stood, and Mark jerked back his elbow into the boy's chest. "Well, sir, who was the first man?" cried the captain. "Beg pardon, your honour," said Joe Dance, gruffly; "it was down in the fo'c'sle." "I know that, sir, but I want to know the names." A faint sound arose as if several men had drawn a deep breath. "Do you hear me, Dance?" cried the captain. "Oh yes, your honour." "He won't tell tales of his messmates," said Bob, with his lips close to Mark's ear. "Silence, Mr Howlett!" cried the captain, sternly. "Now, Dance, the names?" "Beg pardon, your honour, but there was only one dip a-going in the lantern, and it didn't give light enough to tell which was your right hand and which was your left." "The names, sir!" cried the captain, as once more there was the sound of a deep breath. "Couldn't give yer one of 'em, sir, unless it was Tom Fillot." "Hah! Stand out, sir." "Why, I was taking my trick at the wheel, your honour," cried Tom Fillot, in tones of protest. "So you was, messmet," growled Dance; "so you was. There, your honour," he continued, turning to the captain, "you see how dark it were." "Try again, sir," said the captain, sternly. "Dick Bannock," said Dance. "Which I were o' dooty in my watch, mate," cried the man. "Ay, so you was, messmet. No, your honour, it were too dark. P'r'aps," he added, cunningly, "one o' the blacks knows." Here there was a murmur. "Silence!" cried the captain, sternly. "I'm afraid I shall have to recall this as a mark against you, Dance, when the time comes for promotion. It is very plain, sir, that you do know, and will not speak. Hark here, my lads, I am going to pass this over. I cannot punish two ignorant, half-savage men for resenting a cruel attack upon them--cruel and cowardly. Go below now, and show me in the future that you have too much common sense to play such boys' tricks again. Let the two blacks step out." Efforts were made to induce the two Africans to advance, but without avail. "Now, are those men coming aft?" said the captain, sternly; but there was only a buzzing sound below, and something extremely like a scuffle. "Beg pardon, sir; they don't understand," said Bob Howlett. "They'd come up if I spoke to 'em." "Then go down and send them aft--or no," said the captain, impatiently. "I want them to understand that they are pardoned, but that there must be no violence again. There, that's enough, Mr Staples. Pipe the men below." "And that's an end of it," whispered Bob Howlett, as soon as the captain was out of hearing. "I say, Van, wasn't old Joe Dance a trump?" _ |
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