Chapter V.Althoughunder not more than half her full spread of sail, thePintawas dashing freely through the constantly roughening water, responding, like the good sailer she was, to the freshening breeze.Night had come on with a black sky, and it was only now and then with the utmost difficulty that the lights of the other vessels could be seen, rising out of the darkness for an instant only to be engulfed as if forever.All through his watch, Diego had divided his interest between these appearing and disappearing lights and the possibility of some action on the part of the conspirators on thePinta. His anxiety on that score had been sharpened not a little by the ominous tone of Juan Cacheco’s words to him.But, alert as he was, nothing occurred that was in the least suspicious, and his watch was relieved without anything having taken place to justify his fears; and as his belief was that the man Miguel was at the head of whatever plot therewas, he felt reassured when he saw him, after a few muttered words with one of the new watch, plunge into the close cabin where the men crowded together to sleep.The company of those who disliked him, whether they were asleep or awake, was never pleasant to Diego, and, moreover, the bad air and odors of the close cabin were almost sickening to him, though a good sailor; so he did not follow his watch into shelter, but determined to remain on deck as long as the rain, which threatened, held up.With this intention he crept silently to a corner, where a coil of rope offered a support for his head, and curled up, intending to sleep there. It is easy enough to imagine what thoughts must have come to the desolate and lonely yet high-spirited boy as he lay there, clinging to his coil of rope to steady himself under the increasing motion of the boat. The bitterness of the present was mingled with regretful thoughts of the happy past.The night was fresh, but not really cold—not cold enough, anyhow, to prevent his sleeping where he lay, and he had already dozed and opened his eyes twice or thrice, when it seemed to him that something like an animal stole past him, and he stared with wide eyes to see whatit might be, or to determine whether or not he had been merely dreaming.Not quite dreaming, nor yet wide awake. Something had passed him with a stealthy step and crouching body, and, dark as the night was, he could distinguish a human form; and, indeed, what other living thing was there on board the vessel? Dislike is sometimes keener than even love, and it was this that led Diego to the quick conclusion that the crouching figure, moving so softly and cautiously aft, was that of Juan Cacheco. And it seemed to his strained eyes that there was a gleam of a knife-blade once when a lantern swung around the foremast.His first thought, with a gulp of terror, was that the convict boy was stealing aft with the intention of murdering Martin Alonzo Pinzon; but then, though the idea was not an irrational one, he reflected that it was not likely, since the after-cabin was too full of friends of his cousin to make the thing possible for a boy to accomplish. And yet Juan’s errand must be a wicked one, or he would not go about it in such fashion.But be it what it might, Diego was determined to understand it, and with that idea was rising softly, when a new terror was added to the first by the sudden apparition of a man skulking alongthe opposite side of the vessel. And there was something about the movement of the man that made Diego fancy at once that he was Miguel de la Vega.Some evil it certainly was that took these two wretches out on deck when they should have been asleep in the forecastle. Diego was a brave enough boy, and at this moment was nerved by the desperate feeling that his own safety—life, perhaps—depended upon his action; but, notwithstanding, a chill of fear crept over him as he stole from his shelter by the coil of rope and followed the dim figure of Juan.He wondered at first that none of the sailors of the watch challenged the two skulking figures; for it was inconceivable that they had not yet been seen by some one. Then it came over him, with a new accession of terror, that all of the watch must be in collusion with Miguel and Juan.And if that were so, might not their errand be the murder of his cousin? But no, it seemed so unreasonable that they should attempt that, with the cabin so full of friends of the captain. However, he was determined to watch Juan, who had paused for some reason; and if he saw him turn into the cabin door, he would throw himself on him and shout for help. He would havedone that anyhow, but he was afraid of making a mistake and of thus calling down on himself the wrath of his cousin.Juan had stopped, evidently to listen for some noise from the cabin, and, as if reassured, had gone on again. Diego saw him pass the cabin door and felt relieved of his greatest fear, but was still certain that some evil was the object of this stealthy excursion. Could it be the helmsman?No, that was improbable, for the sea, having grown rough, had made the helm so difficult to control that the man there had called a companion to help him, and it seemed unlikely that Miguel and Juan would take the uncertain chances of assault on two able-bodied men. Besides, what would be the object, since it was more than probable that the two men were in sympathy with whatever plot there was on board?Indeed, though they must have seen Juan and Miguel, too, they paid no attention to them, but kept up a conversation in a low tone, as if they stood there quite alone. What should Diego do? What could he do but hide in the shadow of the cabin and wait?And so he waited and watched Juan, who had crawled to the starboard rail, and was exchanging some whispered words with Miguel. Then,of a sudden, Juan rose to his feet, and, to Diego’s eyes, seemed to drop over the side. His first impulse was to cry out and run to the rail; but he checked that, knowing that the boy could not have deliberately jumped overboard, as a result of all his mysterious preparation.Again the impulse was strong to slip into the cabin and warn his cousin that something unusual was going on, and again the fear of being put in the wrong restrained him, and he did nothing but wait for something else to happen which might elucidate what had gone before.Juan was gone what might have been five minutes before his head appeared above the rail again. Miguel at once rose to his feet and helped Juan carefully to the deck, the men at the helm studiously keeping their eyes turned the other way all the while.What did it mean? What had been done? What ought he to do? It seemed incomprehensible that those two should have made all that mystery for nothing but to enable Juan to idly get over the quarter-rail; but what object could there be in it? Perhaps there was a porthole through which the knife of the prison boy could be thrust with fatal effect! Diego shuddered at that thought, and shrank away behind the cabin, feeling that he might have been wastingprecious time, and that it was now too late for him to do any good.But at least he could brave the possible displeasure of his cousin and go into the cabin to ascertain if any foul deed had been committed. He told himself that he would do so as soon as the two conspirators had returned to the forecastle.He stole to the mast and crouched at its foot, thinking to be better hidden there. Juan appeared around the corner of the cabin on the same side that he had first passed it, crouching by the rail and peering on every side. Suddenly he stopped and stared towards where Diego hugged the shadow under the mast. Diego waited breathlessly, intending to leap towards the cabin at the first sign of discovery.But, after a minute of peering, Juan resumed his progress, and Diego turned his head to watch for Miguel. Dislike and ready suspicion had done for Juan, however, what they had already done for Diego, and had caused him to recognize Diego in the half-hidden figure at the foot of the mast.He had moved on as if freed from the doubt that had made him stop, and then he turned again quickly and had leaped on Diego from behind; so that, almost at the moment that Diego hadespied Miguel coming along the starboard rail, he had felt himself seized by the neck and borne to the deck.Fear and anger combined gave him courage and strength, however, and he twisted under the grasp of his antagonist, and gave utterance to a yell at the same moment that he grappled with Juan.“Help, Miguel!” cried Juan, finding himself unable to cope with Diego, and fearing another yell that would arouse the sleepers in the cabin.And before Diego could utter more than a hoarse cry, he was caught by the neck in the strong hands of Miguel, and despite his struggles was in a fair way of being choked.“Who is it?” he heard Miguel whisper.“The boy Diego,” was Juan’s answer.“Ah! and he was spying on us?”“I think so.”There was an instant of silence, during which Diego felt the grasp on his throat relax, and he made a furious, desperate effort to free himself.“Ah! would you?” said Miguel, angrily, and once more tightened his grasp on Diego’s throat. Then he said, suddenly: “The little spoil-sport! The best place for him is over the rail. Bear a hand, Juan, and we will send him to find better company, since he seems to dislike ours.”“What! throw him overboard?” demanded Juan.“What else?”“No, no. I won’t do it,” was the hasty answer.“Why, you little fool! do you think our lives will be safe if we leave this little friar to tell the captain what he knows?”“I will not do murder,” said Juan, in a frightened tone.“Then out of my way, and take no part in it. If it is his life or mine, I shall not take long in the choosing. You’re a fool, Juan.”“You shall not do it,” said Juan, laying hold of Diego, who was as still, now, as if senseless, though, in fact, he was cognizant of all that was going on.“Out of my way, boy!”“I will cry out and alarm the cabin,” said Juan.Miguel cursed him for his folly, and demanded what he would have done, then.“Make him promise not to tell a word of what he knows.”“Ay! he’d promise anything for his life’s sake,” said Miguel. “So much for having a boy to work with.”“He’ll keep his promise,” said Juan, positively.“Let him speak in a whisper. Say, Diego! will you promise—will you swear on the crucifix not to speak of what you have seen to-night, or of what you suspect? Let him speak, Miguel!”“And let him yell out and arouse the cabin,” retorted Miguel, in a surly growl.“If he tries to do it, throw him over,” said Juan.Diego shook his head, as well as he could, to intimate that he would not cry out. Juan seemed to understand the movement, and again urged Miguel to loose his grasp. And, indeed, it was about time he did; for Diego was losing consciousness. Miguel unwillingly did as Juan urged him, and the latter spoke quickly to Diego.“Will you swear as we ask you?” he said.It was a minute before Diego could recall his senses to make a reply. Then he demanded brokenly:“Have you done harm to my cousin?”“Not a thing has been done to him,” answered Juan.“Have you taken any life?” asked Diego.“Fool! no. Will you swear?”“What have you done?”“Holy St. Martin!” growled Miguel, “doesthe little priestling think we are confessing to him?”“You will learn soon enough what has been done if you will swear; but if you do not take the oath and that at once, it is like you will not be alive to learn,” answered Juan, angrily.“I will swear,” said Diego.“Where’s a crucifix?” said Juan to Miguel.“You may be sure the priestling has one,” answered Miguel. “And let me warn you, boy,” he said, savagely, “if you break your oath, you shall not escape.”“Here’s my crucifix,” said Diego, “and if I swear I will keep my word. Now what shall I swear?”“Swear that you will say nothing of what you have seen or heard,” said Juan.“Stop!” growled Miguel, suspiciously, “do not forget that he is a fray, or hopes to be, and that it is his trade to juggle with words. Make him swear in such a way that he cannot get around it.”“I will swear honestly what you like,” said Diego, indignantly.“You are too ready to swear,” said Miguel with all the suspicion of ignorance.“Hush!” whispered Juan, suddenly. “There is a noise in the cabin. Swear as I said,” he ejaculated hastily to Diego.“‘HUSH!’ WHISPERED JUAN, SUDDENLY. ‘THERE IS A NOISE IN THE CABIN.’”“The captain!” muttered Miguel with an oath, and he and Juan crawled away, attempting to drag Diego with them.But he was not minded to bear them company, and tore away, only just in time to avoid a vicious stab from the knife that Miguel drew from his belt.“We will hang for it!” he heard the older convict growl. “Curse you, Juan, for a soft-hearted fool! Curse you!”The man was in such a rage that Diego expected him to brave all consequences and rush after him; so he ran aft near to where Martin Alonzo was standing, and waited. Miguel and Juan had disappeared into the forecastle, however, and he was not molested.Martin Alonzo, like the thorough seaman that he was, had been waked from his sleep by an unusual motion of his vessel; and, as he had lain down in the full expectation of being disturbed by the coming of the storm he had foreseen, he had leaped out of his bunk and rushed out on deck. His first thought had been that the disturbance had been caused by the storm; but when he reached the deck and discovered that the storm had not yet burst, albeit the wind was fresh and the waves running high, he sprang to the men at the helm and roared out:“What’s wrong? Can’t two of you hold that helm steady? She yaws like a blind mule on a hill-side. Steady there!”He pushed the men angrily away and caught the helm in his own strong hands, and braced his feet to keep the rudder steady. Still, there was a quivering, unsteady motion to the vessel.“Whose watch is it?” he roared. “Is it yours, Lopez?” as the third mate came hurrying aft. “Have you turned lubber like the rest? Have you lost your wits because we’re three days out? How long has she been yawing like this?”“Just commenced it,” was the surly answer.“What’re you doing for’ard? Couldn’t you tell that something was wrong with the steering-gear? All hands on deck and have everything made snug! Jump, now! Let go the main sheet and bring her upon the starboard tack. Jump, you lubbers! Do you think I want her brought about, you sea-calves? There! that steadies her. Here, take this helm, and keep her where she is.”The vessel was alive almost from the first roar of the captain, and everything was being done as expeditiously as possible; although most of the people aboard of the vessel were wondering what was the cause of so much excitement. The captain, however, gave no one much opportunityfor reflection; for as soon as he had given the helm into other hands, he had issued more orders looking to lightening the canvas, making all snug, and to keeping the vessel steady.Diego had quickly seen that there would be nothing for him to do but to take his part in the execution of the orders of Martin Alonzo, and he had jumped like the others at the first word. The only care he had was to keep away as far as possible from his two recent antagonists, and this he accomplished, notwithstanding the manifest efforts of Juan and Miguel to have a word with him.He had wondered how he would be able to keep them at a distance after the excitement had subsided; but he had no need to concern himself about that; for no sooner had Martin Alonzo put the vessel in condition to hold her own than the storm that had been threatening broke upon them, accompanied by sheets of rain, forked streaks of lightning, and peals of thunder; so that until daylight dawned there was little idleness for any of the crew.The rudder worked so badly that the vessel would not head as she was put, and in consequence shipped so much water that all hands were kept busy bailing her and pumping too.When morning dawned, the first thought wasof the other vessels, and great was the relief to see them laboring in the great waves, not far away; though in the event of danger to thePintathe others could have done nothing for her in such a sea. Still, there was some comfort in the companionship of the vessels. What Diego thought most of, however, when the first streaks of dawn lighted up the gray waste where sky and water were hardly distinguishable, was that now his life would be safe from Miguel.He had made no effort to have any communication with his cousin; for that efficient sailor seemed to know what was wrong better than he could have told him, and any information he could have given seemed to him superfluous. He felt sure, of course, that whatever had happened had been the result of the action of Juan; but, as no danger seemed to threaten in consequence, he decided that it would be wisest to keep silence. He knew, too, that everything he did was watched by Miguel.ThePintawas quite bare of canvas by this time, and was laboring frightfully. Martin Alonzo had made several efforts to ascertain what was wrong with the steering-gear; but without result, since it was dangerous to go over the side during the gale, and he had determined to postpone his investigation until the storm had abated.All this while he had been without food, even when the sailors had been supplied with theirs, and as the wind was now blowing steadily from one quarter, he left his brother, Francisco Martin Pinzon, in charge of the deck while he went for a hasty bite of something.He had hardly taken two mouthfuls, however, as it seemed, when the vessel suddenly shuddered from stem to stern, and in a moment more was rolling like a log in the trough of the sea. With two leaps he was out of the cabin and at the helm.Something in the gearing had snapped and the rudder was useless. It looked as if the vessel would swamp in another minute. The water poured over her low rail, and yards dipped into the waves at each roll.No man on board expected to survive that hour, and more than one who had not prayed for many a year knelt where he clung to some rope and tried to recall the forgotten words.Diego found himself side by side with Juan Cacheco.“You did this,” he cried, furiously.“I didn’t expect this,” answered Juan, his face blanched with terror.Chapter VI.
Chapter V.Althoughunder not more than half her full spread of sail, thePintawas dashing freely through the constantly roughening water, responding, like the good sailer she was, to the freshening breeze.Night had come on with a black sky, and it was only now and then with the utmost difficulty that the lights of the other vessels could be seen, rising out of the darkness for an instant only to be engulfed as if forever.All through his watch, Diego had divided his interest between these appearing and disappearing lights and the possibility of some action on the part of the conspirators on thePinta. His anxiety on that score had been sharpened not a little by the ominous tone of Juan Cacheco’s words to him.But, alert as he was, nothing occurred that was in the least suspicious, and his watch was relieved without anything having taken place to justify his fears; and as his belief was that the man Miguel was at the head of whatever plot therewas, he felt reassured when he saw him, after a few muttered words with one of the new watch, plunge into the close cabin where the men crowded together to sleep.The company of those who disliked him, whether they were asleep or awake, was never pleasant to Diego, and, moreover, the bad air and odors of the close cabin were almost sickening to him, though a good sailor; so he did not follow his watch into shelter, but determined to remain on deck as long as the rain, which threatened, held up.With this intention he crept silently to a corner, where a coil of rope offered a support for his head, and curled up, intending to sleep there. It is easy enough to imagine what thoughts must have come to the desolate and lonely yet high-spirited boy as he lay there, clinging to his coil of rope to steady himself under the increasing motion of the boat. The bitterness of the present was mingled with regretful thoughts of the happy past.The night was fresh, but not really cold—not cold enough, anyhow, to prevent his sleeping where he lay, and he had already dozed and opened his eyes twice or thrice, when it seemed to him that something like an animal stole past him, and he stared with wide eyes to see whatit might be, or to determine whether or not he had been merely dreaming.Not quite dreaming, nor yet wide awake. Something had passed him with a stealthy step and crouching body, and, dark as the night was, he could distinguish a human form; and, indeed, what other living thing was there on board the vessel? Dislike is sometimes keener than even love, and it was this that led Diego to the quick conclusion that the crouching figure, moving so softly and cautiously aft, was that of Juan Cacheco. And it seemed to his strained eyes that there was a gleam of a knife-blade once when a lantern swung around the foremast.His first thought, with a gulp of terror, was that the convict boy was stealing aft with the intention of murdering Martin Alonzo Pinzon; but then, though the idea was not an irrational one, he reflected that it was not likely, since the after-cabin was too full of friends of his cousin to make the thing possible for a boy to accomplish. And yet Juan’s errand must be a wicked one, or he would not go about it in such fashion.But be it what it might, Diego was determined to understand it, and with that idea was rising softly, when a new terror was added to the first by the sudden apparition of a man skulking alongthe opposite side of the vessel. And there was something about the movement of the man that made Diego fancy at once that he was Miguel de la Vega.Some evil it certainly was that took these two wretches out on deck when they should have been asleep in the forecastle. Diego was a brave enough boy, and at this moment was nerved by the desperate feeling that his own safety—life, perhaps—depended upon his action; but, notwithstanding, a chill of fear crept over him as he stole from his shelter by the coil of rope and followed the dim figure of Juan.He wondered at first that none of the sailors of the watch challenged the two skulking figures; for it was inconceivable that they had not yet been seen by some one. Then it came over him, with a new accession of terror, that all of the watch must be in collusion with Miguel and Juan.And if that were so, might not their errand be the murder of his cousin? But no, it seemed so unreasonable that they should attempt that, with the cabin so full of friends of the captain. However, he was determined to watch Juan, who had paused for some reason; and if he saw him turn into the cabin door, he would throw himself on him and shout for help. He would havedone that anyhow, but he was afraid of making a mistake and of thus calling down on himself the wrath of his cousin.Juan had stopped, evidently to listen for some noise from the cabin, and, as if reassured, had gone on again. Diego saw him pass the cabin door and felt relieved of his greatest fear, but was still certain that some evil was the object of this stealthy excursion. Could it be the helmsman?No, that was improbable, for the sea, having grown rough, had made the helm so difficult to control that the man there had called a companion to help him, and it seemed unlikely that Miguel and Juan would take the uncertain chances of assault on two able-bodied men. Besides, what would be the object, since it was more than probable that the two men were in sympathy with whatever plot there was on board?Indeed, though they must have seen Juan and Miguel, too, they paid no attention to them, but kept up a conversation in a low tone, as if they stood there quite alone. What should Diego do? What could he do but hide in the shadow of the cabin and wait?And so he waited and watched Juan, who had crawled to the starboard rail, and was exchanging some whispered words with Miguel. Then,of a sudden, Juan rose to his feet, and, to Diego’s eyes, seemed to drop over the side. His first impulse was to cry out and run to the rail; but he checked that, knowing that the boy could not have deliberately jumped overboard, as a result of all his mysterious preparation.Again the impulse was strong to slip into the cabin and warn his cousin that something unusual was going on, and again the fear of being put in the wrong restrained him, and he did nothing but wait for something else to happen which might elucidate what had gone before.Juan was gone what might have been five minutes before his head appeared above the rail again. Miguel at once rose to his feet and helped Juan carefully to the deck, the men at the helm studiously keeping their eyes turned the other way all the while.What did it mean? What had been done? What ought he to do? It seemed incomprehensible that those two should have made all that mystery for nothing but to enable Juan to idly get over the quarter-rail; but what object could there be in it? Perhaps there was a porthole through which the knife of the prison boy could be thrust with fatal effect! Diego shuddered at that thought, and shrank away behind the cabin, feeling that he might have been wastingprecious time, and that it was now too late for him to do any good.But at least he could brave the possible displeasure of his cousin and go into the cabin to ascertain if any foul deed had been committed. He told himself that he would do so as soon as the two conspirators had returned to the forecastle.He stole to the mast and crouched at its foot, thinking to be better hidden there. Juan appeared around the corner of the cabin on the same side that he had first passed it, crouching by the rail and peering on every side. Suddenly he stopped and stared towards where Diego hugged the shadow under the mast. Diego waited breathlessly, intending to leap towards the cabin at the first sign of discovery.But, after a minute of peering, Juan resumed his progress, and Diego turned his head to watch for Miguel. Dislike and ready suspicion had done for Juan, however, what they had already done for Diego, and had caused him to recognize Diego in the half-hidden figure at the foot of the mast.He had moved on as if freed from the doubt that had made him stop, and then he turned again quickly and had leaped on Diego from behind; so that, almost at the moment that Diego hadespied Miguel coming along the starboard rail, he had felt himself seized by the neck and borne to the deck.Fear and anger combined gave him courage and strength, however, and he twisted under the grasp of his antagonist, and gave utterance to a yell at the same moment that he grappled with Juan.“Help, Miguel!” cried Juan, finding himself unable to cope with Diego, and fearing another yell that would arouse the sleepers in the cabin.And before Diego could utter more than a hoarse cry, he was caught by the neck in the strong hands of Miguel, and despite his struggles was in a fair way of being choked.“Who is it?” he heard Miguel whisper.“The boy Diego,” was Juan’s answer.“Ah! and he was spying on us?”“I think so.”There was an instant of silence, during which Diego felt the grasp on his throat relax, and he made a furious, desperate effort to free himself.“Ah! would you?” said Miguel, angrily, and once more tightened his grasp on Diego’s throat. Then he said, suddenly: “The little spoil-sport! The best place for him is over the rail. Bear a hand, Juan, and we will send him to find better company, since he seems to dislike ours.”“What! throw him overboard?” demanded Juan.“What else?”“No, no. I won’t do it,” was the hasty answer.“Why, you little fool! do you think our lives will be safe if we leave this little friar to tell the captain what he knows?”“I will not do murder,” said Juan, in a frightened tone.“Then out of my way, and take no part in it. If it is his life or mine, I shall not take long in the choosing. You’re a fool, Juan.”“You shall not do it,” said Juan, laying hold of Diego, who was as still, now, as if senseless, though, in fact, he was cognizant of all that was going on.“Out of my way, boy!”“I will cry out and alarm the cabin,” said Juan.Miguel cursed him for his folly, and demanded what he would have done, then.“Make him promise not to tell a word of what he knows.”“Ay! he’d promise anything for his life’s sake,” said Miguel. “So much for having a boy to work with.”“He’ll keep his promise,” said Juan, positively.“Let him speak in a whisper. Say, Diego! will you promise—will you swear on the crucifix not to speak of what you have seen to-night, or of what you suspect? Let him speak, Miguel!”“And let him yell out and arouse the cabin,” retorted Miguel, in a surly growl.“If he tries to do it, throw him over,” said Juan.Diego shook his head, as well as he could, to intimate that he would not cry out. Juan seemed to understand the movement, and again urged Miguel to loose his grasp. And, indeed, it was about time he did; for Diego was losing consciousness. Miguel unwillingly did as Juan urged him, and the latter spoke quickly to Diego.“Will you swear as we ask you?” he said.It was a minute before Diego could recall his senses to make a reply. Then he demanded brokenly:“Have you done harm to my cousin?”“Not a thing has been done to him,” answered Juan.“Have you taken any life?” asked Diego.“Fool! no. Will you swear?”“What have you done?”“Holy St. Martin!” growled Miguel, “doesthe little priestling think we are confessing to him?”“You will learn soon enough what has been done if you will swear; but if you do not take the oath and that at once, it is like you will not be alive to learn,” answered Juan, angrily.“I will swear,” said Diego.“Where’s a crucifix?” said Juan to Miguel.“You may be sure the priestling has one,” answered Miguel. “And let me warn you, boy,” he said, savagely, “if you break your oath, you shall not escape.”“Here’s my crucifix,” said Diego, “and if I swear I will keep my word. Now what shall I swear?”“Swear that you will say nothing of what you have seen or heard,” said Juan.“Stop!” growled Miguel, suspiciously, “do not forget that he is a fray, or hopes to be, and that it is his trade to juggle with words. Make him swear in such a way that he cannot get around it.”“I will swear honestly what you like,” said Diego, indignantly.“You are too ready to swear,” said Miguel with all the suspicion of ignorance.“Hush!” whispered Juan, suddenly. “There is a noise in the cabin. Swear as I said,” he ejaculated hastily to Diego.“‘HUSH!’ WHISPERED JUAN, SUDDENLY. ‘THERE IS A NOISE IN THE CABIN.’”“The captain!” muttered Miguel with an oath, and he and Juan crawled away, attempting to drag Diego with them.But he was not minded to bear them company, and tore away, only just in time to avoid a vicious stab from the knife that Miguel drew from his belt.“We will hang for it!” he heard the older convict growl. “Curse you, Juan, for a soft-hearted fool! Curse you!”The man was in such a rage that Diego expected him to brave all consequences and rush after him; so he ran aft near to where Martin Alonzo was standing, and waited. Miguel and Juan had disappeared into the forecastle, however, and he was not molested.Martin Alonzo, like the thorough seaman that he was, had been waked from his sleep by an unusual motion of his vessel; and, as he had lain down in the full expectation of being disturbed by the coming of the storm he had foreseen, he had leaped out of his bunk and rushed out on deck. His first thought had been that the disturbance had been caused by the storm; but when he reached the deck and discovered that the storm had not yet burst, albeit the wind was fresh and the waves running high, he sprang to the men at the helm and roared out:“What’s wrong? Can’t two of you hold that helm steady? She yaws like a blind mule on a hill-side. Steady there!”He pushed the men angrily away and caught the helm in his own strong hands, and braced his feet to keep the rudder steady. Still, there was a quivering, unsteady motion to the vessel.“Whose watch is it?” he roared. “Is it yours, Lopez?” as the third mate came hurrying aft. “Have you turned lubber like the rest? Have you lost your wits because we’re three days out? How long has she been yawing like this?”“Just commenced it,” was the surly answer.“What’re you doing for’ard? Couldn’t you tell that something was wrong with the steering-gear? All hands on deck and have everything made snug! Jump, now! Let go the main sheet and bring her upon the starboard tack. Jump, you lubbers! Do you think I want her brought about, you sea-calves? There! that steadies her. Here, take this helm, and keep her where she is.”The vessel was alive almost from the first roar of the captain, and everything was being done as expeditiously as possible; although most of the people aboard of the vessel were wondering what was the cause of so much excitement. The captain, however, gave no one much opportunityfor reflection; for as soon as he had given the helm into other hands, he had issued more orders looking to lightening the canvas, making all snug, and to keeping the vessel steady.Diego had quickly seen that there would be nothing for him to do but to take his part in the execution of the orders of Martin Alonzo, and he had jumped like the others at the first word. The only care he had was to keep away as far as possible from his two recent antagonists, and this he accomplished, notwithstanding the manifest efforts of Juan and Miguel to have a word with him.He had wondered how he would be able to keep them at a distance after the excitement had subsided; but he had no need to concern himself about that; for no sooner had Martin Alonzo put the vessel in condition to hold her own than the storm that had been threatening broke upon them, accompanied by sheets of rain, forked streaks of lightning, and peals of thunder; so that until daylight dawned there was little idleness for any of the crew.The rudder worked so badly that the vessel would not head as she was put, and in consequence shipped so much water that all hands were kept busy bailing her and pumping too.When morning dawned, the first thought wasof the other vessels, and great was the relief to see them laboring in the great waves, not far away; though in the event of danger to thePintathe others could have done nothing for her in such a sea. Still, there was some comfort in the companionship of the vessels. What Diego thought most of, however, when the first streaks of dawn lighted up the gray waste where sky and water were hardly distinguishable, was that now his life would be safe from Miguel.He had made no effort to have any communication with his cousin; for that efficient sailor seemed to know what was wrong better than he could have told him, and any information he could have given seemed to him superfluous. He felt sure, of course, that whatever had happened had been the result of the action of Juan; but, as no danger seemed to threaten in consequence, he decided that it would be wisest to keep silence. He knew, too, that everything he did was watched by Miguel.ThePintawas quite bare of canvas by this time, and was laboring frightfully. Martin Alonzo had made several efforts to ascertain what was wrong with the steering-gear; but without result, since it was dangerous to go over the side during the gale, and he had determined to postpone his investigation until the storm had abated.All this while he had been without food, even when the sailors had been supplied with theirs, and as the wind was now blowing steadily from one quarter, he left his brother, Francisco Martin Pinzon, in charge of the deck while he went for a hasty bite of something.He had hardly taken two mouthfuls, however, as it seemed, when the vessel suddenly shuddered from stem to stern, and in a moment more was rolling like a log in the trough of the sea. With two leaps he was out of the cabin and at the helm.Something in the gearing had snapped and the rudder was useless. It looked as if the vessel would swamp in another minute. The water poured over her low rail, and yards dipped into the waves at each roll.No man on board expected to survive that hour, and more than one who had not prayed for many a year knelt where he clung to some rope and tried to recall the forgotten words.Diego found himself side by side with Juan Cacheco.“You did this,” he cried, furiously.“I didn’t expect this,” answered Juan, his face blanched with terror.
Althoughunder not more than half her full spread of sail, thePintawas dashing freely through the constantly roughening water, responding, like the good sailer she was, to the freshening breeze.
Night had come on with a black sky, and it was only now and then with the utmost difficulty that the lights of the other vessels could be seen, rising out of the darkness for an instant only to be engulfed as if forever.
All through his watch, Diego had divided his interest between these appearing and disappearing lights and the possibility of some action on the part of the conspirators on thePinta. His anxiety on that score had been sharpened not a little by the ominous tone of Juan Cacheco’s words to him.
But, alert as he was, nothing occurred that was in the least suspicious, and his watch was relieved without anything having taken place to justify his fears; and as his belief was that the man Miguel was at the head of whatever plot therewas, he felt reassured when he saw him, after a few muttered words with one of the new watch, plunge into the close cabin where the men crowded together to sleep.
The company of those who disliked him, whether they were asleep or awake, was never pleasant to Diego, and, moreover, the bad air and odors of the close cabin were almost sickening to him, though a good sailor; so he did not follow his watch into shelter, but determined to remain on deck as long as the rain, which threatened, held up.
With this intention he crept silently to a corner, where a coil of rope offered a support for his head, and curled up, intending to sleep there. It is easy enough to imagine what thoughts must have come to the desolate and lonely yet high-spirited boy as he lay there, clinging to his coil of rope to steady himself under the increasing motion of the boat. The bitterness of the present was mingled with regretful thoughts of the happy past.
The night was fresh, but not really cold—not cold enough, anyhow, to prevent his sleeping where he lay, and he had already dozed and opened his eyes twice or thrice, when it seemed to him that something like an animal stole past him, and he stared with wide eyes to see whatit might be, or to determine whether or not he had been merely dreaming.
Not quite dreaming, nor yet wide awake. Something had passed him with a stealthy step and crouching body, and, dark as the night was, he could distinguish a human form; and, indeed, what other living thing was there on board the vessel? Dislike is sometimes keener than even love, and it was this that led Diego to the quick conclusion that the crouching figure, moving so softly and cautiously aft, was that of Juan Cacheco. And it seemed to his strained eyes that there was a gleam of a knife-blade once when a lantern swung around the foremast.
His first thought, with a gulp of terror, was that the convict boy was stealing aft with the intention of murdering Martin Alonzo Pinzon; but then, though the idea was not an irrational one, he reflected that it was not likely, since the after-cabin was too full of friends of his cousin to make the thing possible for a boy to accomplish. And yet Juan’s errand must be a wicked one, or he would not go about it in such fashion.
But be it what it might, Diego was determined to understand it, and with that idea was rising softly, when a new terror was added to the first by the sudden apparition of a man skulking alongthe opposite side of the vessel. And there was something about the movement of the man that made Diego fancy at once that he was Miguel de la Vega.
Some evil it certainly was that took these two wretches out on deck when they should have been asleep in the forecastle. Diego was a brave enough boy, and at this moment was nerved by the desperate feeling that his own safety—life, perhaps—depended upon his action; but, notwithstanding, a chill of fear crept over him as he stole from his shelter by the coil of rope and followed the dim figure of Juan.
He wondered at first that none of the sailors of the watch challenged the two skulking figures; for it was inconceivable that they had not yet been seen by some one. Then it came over him, with a new accession of terror, that all of the watch must be in collusion with Miguel and Juan.
And if that were so, might not their errand be the murder of his cousin? But no, it seemed so unreasonable that they should attempt that, with the cabin so full of friends of the captain. However, he was determined to watch Juan, who had paused for some reason; and if he saw him turn into the cabin door, he would throw himself on him and shout for help. He would havedone that anyhow, but he was afraid of making a mistake and of thus calling down on himself the wrath of his cousin.
Juan had stopped, evidently to listen for some noise from the cabin, and, as if reassured, had gone on again. Diego saw him pass the cabin door and felt relieved of his greatest fear, but was still certain that some evil was the object of this stealthy excursion. Could it be the helmsman?
No, that was improbable, for the sea, having grown rough, had made the helm so difficult to control that the man there had called a companion to help him, and it seemed unlikely that Miguel and Juan would take the uncertain chances of assault on two able-bodied men. Besides, what would be the object, since it was more than probable that the two men were in sympathy with whatever plot there was on board?
Indeed, though they must have seen Juan and Miguel, too, they paid no attention to them, but kept up a conversation in a low tone, as if they stood there quite alone. What should Diego do? What could he do but hide in the shadow of the cabin and wait?
And so he waited and watched Juan, who had crawled to the starboard rail, and was exchanging some whispered words with Miguel. Then,of a sudden, Juan rose to his feet, and, to Diego’s eyes, seemed to drop over the side. His first impulse was to cry out and run to the rail; but he checked that, knowing that the boy could not have deliberately jumped overboard, as a result of all his mysterious preparation.
Again the impulse was strong to slip into the cabin and warn his cousin that something unusual was going on, and again the fear of being put in the wrong restrained him, and he did nothing but wait for something else to happen which might elucidate what had gone before.
Juan was gone what might have been five minutes before his head appeared above the rail again. Miguel at once rose to his feet and helped Juan carefully to the deck, the men at the helm studiously keeping their eyes turned the other way all the while.
What did it mean? What had been done? What ought he to do? It seemed incomprehensible that those two should have made all that mystery for nothing but to enable Juan to idly get over the quarter-rail; but what object could there be in it? Perhaps there was a porthole through which the knife of the prison boy could be thrust with fatal effect! Diego shuddered at that thought, and shrank away behind the cabin, feeling that he might have been wastingprecious time, and that it was now too late for him to do any good.
But at least he could brave the possible displeasure of his cousin and go into the cabin to ascertain if any foul deed had been committed. He told himself that he would do so as soon as the two conspirators had returned to the forecastle.
He stole to the mast and crouched at its foot, thinking to be better hidden there. Juan appeared around the corner of the cabin on the same side that he had first passed it, crouching by the rail and peering on every side. Suddenly he stopped and stared towards where Diego hugged the shadow under the mast. Diego waited breathlessly, intending to leap towards the cabin at the first sign of discovery.
But, after a minute of peering, Juan resumed his progress, and Diego turned his head to watch for Miguel. Dislike and ready suspicion had done for Juan, however, what they had already done for Diego, and had caused him to recognize Diego in the half-hidden figure at the foot of the mast.
He had moved on as if freed from the doubt that had made him stop, and then he turned again quickly and had leaped on Diego from behind; so that, almost at the moment that Diego hadespied Miguel coming along the starboard rail, he had felt himself seized by the neck and borne to the deck.
Fear and anger combined gave him courage and strength, however, and he twisted under the grasp of his antagonist, and gave utterance to a yell at the same moment that he grappled with Juan.
“Help, Miguel!” cried Juan, finding himself unable to cope with Diego, and fearing another yell that would arouse the sleepers in the cabin.
And before Diego could utter more than a hoarse cry, he was caught by the neck in the strong hands of Miguel, and despite his struggles was in a fair way of being choked.
“Who is it?” he heard Miguel whisper.
“The boy Diego,” was Juan’s answer.
“Ah! and he was spying on us?”
“I think so.”
There was an instant of silence, during which Diego felt the grasp on his throat relax, and he made a furious, desperate effort to free himself.
“Ah! would you?” said Miguel, angrily, and once more tightened his grasp on Diego’s throat. Then he said, suddenly: “The little spoil-sport! The best place for him is over the rail. Bear a hand, Juan, and we will send him to find better company, since he seems to dislike ours.”
“What! throw him overboard?” demanded Juan.
“What else?”
“No, no. I won’t do it,” was the hasty answer.
“Why, you little fool! do you think our lives will be safe if we leave this little friar to tell the captain what he knows?”
“I will not do murder,” said Juan, in a frightened tone.
“Then out of my way, and take no part in it. If it is his life or mine, I shall not take long in the choosing. You’re a fool, Juan.”
“You shall not do it,” said Juan, laying hold of Diego, who was as still, now, as if senseless, though, in fact, he was cognizant of all that was going on.
“Out of my way, boy!”
“I will cry out and alarm the cabin,” said Juan.
Miguel cursed him for his folly, and demanded what he would have done, then.
“Make him promise not to tell a word of what he knows.”
“Ay! he’d promise anything for his life’s sake,” said Miguel. “So much for having a boy to work with.”
“He’ll keep his promise,” said Juan, positively.“Let him speak in a whisper. Say, Diego! will you promise—will you swear on the crucifix not to speak of what you have seen to-night, or of what you suspect? Let him speak, Miguel!”
“And let him yell out and arouse the cabin,” retorted Miguel, in a surly growl.
“If he tries to do it, throw him over,” said Juan.
Diego shook his head, as well as he could, to intimate that he would not cry out. Juan seemed to understand the movement, and again urged Miguel to loose his grasp. And, indeed, it was about time he did; for Diego was losing consciousness. Miguel unwillingly did as Juan urged him, and the latter spoke quickly to Diego.
“Will you swear as we ask you?” he said.
It was a minute before Diego could recall his senses to make a reply. Then he demanded brokenly:
“Have you done harm to my cousin?”
“Not a thing has been done to him,” answered Juan.
“Have you taken any life?” asked Diego.
“Fool! no. Will you swear?”
“What have you done?”
“Holy St. Martin!” growled Miguel, “doesthe little priestling think we are confessing to him?”
“You will learn soon enough what has been done if you will swear; but if you do not take the oath and that at once, it is like you will not be alive to learn,” answered Juan, angrily.
“I will swear,” said Diego.
“Where’s a crucifix?” said Juan to Miguel.
“You may be sure the priestling has one,” answered Miguel. “And let me warn you, boy,” he said, savagely, “if you break your oath, you shall not escape.”
“Here’s my crucifix,” said Diego, “and if I swear I will keep my word. Now what shall I swear?”
“Swear that you will say nothing of what you have seen or heard,” said Juan.
“Stop!” growled Miguel, suspiciously, “do not forget that he is a fray, or hopes to be, and that it is his trade to juggle with words. Make him swear in such a way that he cannot get around it.”
“I will swear honestly what you like,” said Diego, indignantly.
“You are too ready to swear,” said Miguel with all the suspicion of ignorance.
“Hush!” whispered Juan, suddenly. “There is a noise in the cabin. Swear as I said,” he ejaculated hastily to Diego.
“‘HUSH!’ WHISPERED JUAN, SUDDENLY. ‘THERE IS A NOISE IN THE CABIN.’”
“‘HUSH!’ WHISPERED JUAN, SUDDENLY. ‘THERE IS A NOISE IN THE CABIN.’”
“‘HUSH!’ WHISPERED JUAN, SUDDENLY. ‘THERE IS A NOISE IN THE CABIN.’”
“The captain!” muttered Miguel with an oath, and he and Juan crawled away, attempting to drag Diego with them.
But he was not minded to bear them company, and tore away, only just in time to avoid a vicious stab from the knife that Miguel drew from his belt.
“We will hang for it!” he heard the older convict growl. “Curse you, Juan, for a soft-hearted fool! Curse you!”
The man was in such a rage that Diego expected him to brave all consequences and rush after him; so he ran aft near to where Martin Alonzo was standing, and waited. Miguel and Juan had disappeared into the forecastle, however, and he was not molested.
Martin Alonzo, like the thorough seaman that he was, had been waked from his sleep by an unusual motion of his vessel; and, as he had lain down in the full expectation of being disturbed by the coming of the storm he had foreseen, he had leaped out of his bunk and rushed out on deck. His first thought had been that the disturbance had been caused by the storm; but when he reached the deck and discovered that the storm had not yet burst, albeit the wind was fresh and the waves running high, he sprang to the men at the helm and roared out:
“What’s wrong? Can’t two of you hold that helm steady? She yaws like a blind mule on a hill-side. Steady there!”
He pushed the men angrily away and caught the helm in his own strong hands, and braced his feet to keep the rudder steady. Still, there was a quivering, unsteady motion to the vessel.
“Whose watch is it?” he roared. “Is it yours, Lopez?” as the third mate came hurrying aft. “Have you turned lubber like the rest? Have you lost your wits because we’re three days out? How long has she been yawing like this?”
“Just commenced it,” was the surly answer.
“What’re you doing for’ard? Couldn’t you tell that something was wrong with the steering-gear? All hands on deck and have everything made snug! Jump, now! Let go the main sheet and bring her upon the starboard tack. Jump, you lubbers! Do you think I want her brought about, you sea-calves? There! that steadies her. Here, take this helm, and keep her where she is.”
The vessel was alive almost from the first roar of the captain, and everything was being done as expeditiously as possible; although most of the people aboard of the vessel were wondering what was the cause of so much excitement. The captain, however, gave no one much opportunityfor reflection; for as soon as he had given the helm into other hands, he had issued more orders looking to lightening the canvas, making all snug, and to keeping the vessel steady.
Diego had quickly seen that there would be nothing for him to do but to take his part in the execution of the orders of Martin Alonzo, and he had jumped like the others at the first word. The only care he had was to keep away as far as possible from his two recent antagonists, and this he accomplished, notwithstanding the manifest efforts of Juan and Miguel to have a word with him.
He had wondered how he would be able to keep them at a distance after the excitement had subsided; but he had no need to concern himself about that; for no sooner had Martin Alonzo put the vessel in condition to hold her own than the storm that had been threatening broke upon them, accompanied by sheets of rain, forked streaks of lightning, and peals of thunder; so that until daylight dawned there was little idleness for any of the crew.
The rudder worked so badly that the vessel would not head as she was put, and in consequence shipped so much water that all hands were kept busy bailing her and pumping too.
When morning dawned, the first thought wasof the other vessels, and great was the relief to see them laboring in the great waves, not far away; though in the event of danger to thePintathe others could have done nothing for her in such a sea. Still, there was some comfort in the companionship of the vessels. What Diego thought most of, however, when the first streaks of dawn lighted up the gray waste where sky and water were hardly distinguishable, was that now his life would be safe from Miguel.
He had made no effort to have any communication with his cousin; for that efficient sailor seemed to know what was wrong better than he could have told him, and any information he could have given seemed to him superfluous. He felt sure, of course, that whatever had happened had been the result of the action of Juan; but, as no danger seemed to threaten in consequence, he decided that it would be wisest to keep silence. He knew, too, that everything he did was watched by Miguel.
ThePintawas quite bare of canvas by this time, and was laboring frightfully. Martin Alonzo had made several efforts to ascertain what was wrong with the steering-gear; but without result, since it was dangerous to go over the side during the gale, and he had determined to postpone his investigation until the storm had abated.
All this while he had been without food, even when the sailors had been supplied with theirs, and as the wind was now blowing steadily from one quarter, he left his brother, Francisco Martin Pinzon, in charge of the deck while he went for a hasty bite of something.
He had hardly taken two mouthfuls, however, as it seemed, when the vessel suddenly shuddered from stem to stern, and in a moment more was rolling like a log in the trough of the sea. With two leaps he was out of the cabin and at the helm.
Something in the gearing had snapped and the rudder was useless. It looked as if the vessel would swamp in another minute. The water poured over her low rail, and yards dipped into the waves at each roll.
No man on board expected to survive that hour, and more than one who had not prayed for many a year knelt where he clung to some rope and tried to recall the forgotten words.
Diego found himself side by side with Juan Cacheco.
“You did this,” he cried, furiously.
“I didn’t expect this,” answered Juan, his face blanched with terror.