CHAPTER V.THE PRISONERS.
I have made an attempt at describing the general situation on board theAmericawhile her crew had nothing more alarming to wag their tongues over than the carrying away of the topmast, but have spent my time in vain trying to show how they twisted that mishap into the ugliest kind of an omen.
Previous to the appearance of the supposed ghost, it seemed as if the conduct of the crew could not be more mutinous unless, indeed, they had risen with deadly intent against their officers; but now we two came to understand that the former condition of affairs was as nothing compared with the present.
Then the men had no more weighty subject for conversation than something which was really not out of the common, unless one chose to so twist it in his mind, and there remained ample opportunity for argument and individual belief.
Now, however, the situation was changed.
There was no opportunity for argument as to what had been seen and heard, since every man Jack of us could do no less than give the same evidence.
It was no longer an omen which might be construed equally well to mean good or evil; but a fact, to which the officers could testify as well as the men.
When the starboard watch gained the gun-deck, after having been so soundly rated by the captain, it was as if each man was paralysed with fear by that mysterious thing which had come upon us.
During many moments no one spoke. Each seemed to be waiting for the other, and not daring to venture a remark until the conversation had been opened.
Those of the men whose hammocks were slung well forward clustered aft, where some of the elder members of the watch were lighting their pipes preparatory to a smoking-match, when, as we lads knew full well, all the occurrences of the evening would be discussed.
None of the crew appeared willing to remain in the vicinity of the forward hatchway, and more than one sat facing aft, lest there might yet be some horrible thing to be seen in the bow of the ship.
During this time of silence the thought came to me suddenly that Captain Ropes himself must have been in a certain degree impressed by the voice, else would he have tried to convince the men that it was nothing supernatural, instead of railing at them as he did.
The mind of a sailorman can be coaxed into almost whatsoever channel you will; but it is not often possible to force it.
Simon remained very near my side, and I was truly thankful that he did so, because it seemed to me as ifI really needed close contact with some human being upon whom I could rely, in order to aid me in warding off the terrible thing which appeared to threaten all on board.
When the men’s tongues were finally loosened, there was no loud talking, no angry exclamations, no vehement putting forth of this or that opinion; all hands were subdued and solemn as though taking part in some religious service the precise nature of which they did not understand, and throughout the entire night—for no man so much as dreamed of turning in—never a voice was raised to a high key.
Even Master Josh, who ordinarily felt bound to make himself heard from one end of the gun-deck to the other whenever he put forth an opinion, was as low-voiced as any woman, and failed to assert the authority which he usually claimed belonged to him by virtue of age and experience.
I might fill many pages while attempting to describe the scene which was presented by the starboard watch during the time allotted it below, and afterward by those of the port watch when they came off duty, and yet not succeed in portraying the situation as it really presented itself to Simon and me.
Therefore I will make no further effort at picturing it; but content myself by saying that it was as fearsome a night as I have ever experienced, and since that day both Simon and I have been in some exceedingly painful situations.
There were two facts prominent in the minds of all.First, that some ghostly visitor had come aboard, and second, that it was necessary for the safety of all theAmericabe immediately steered on a direct course for home.
On these two points there was no difference of opinion; but concerning the outcome many were disposed to take the most gloomy view.
I believe of a verity that a full half of the crew were convinced we should never see port again; that the ship and all on board were doomed beyond the shadow of hope.
With such ideas in their minds, the men were in a most dangerous frame of mind.
But few words were needed to bring about a veritable mutiny, and had a single one of them offered himself as leader, I have no question but that an attempt would have been made, within the hour, to force Captain Ropes to do the bidding of those who should have obeyed him.
One can well fancy how much blood would have been spilled in event of an uprising, and, bearing this evident fact in mind, it is not difficult to image the feelings of Simon and myself as we stood betwixt that most terrible tragedy of the sea—a mutiny—and the approaching doom foretold by the ghostly visitor.
As I have said, no man occupied his hammock that night, and those who had not remained on deck during the entire time of darkness sought the open air with the first dawning of day.
As may be expected, Simon and I followed them, for we were not minded to remain alone on the gun-deck, where it was yet dark, and I looked forward with dread to thehour when we must go into the hold to carry the prisoners’ food.
Captain Ropes and his officers must have been well aware of the dangerous condition of mind into which the men were fallen, for no less than three paced the quarter-deck constantly, and when an order was given they took extra care that it should be obeyed promptly, as if fearing lest the first indication of such delay as might be counted for insubordination should prove to be the match that exploded a magazine of fear and passion.
I observed, too, that all the officers carried their side-arms as they would have done on the eve of an engagement, and they kept vigilant watch upon every one of us.
As a matter of course, it would have been impossible to prevent the men from talking among themselves; but I noticed that, when there was any disposition on the part of the crew to gather into little groups, some order was given which would necessitate their separation, and much useless work laid out as if for no other purpose than to keep our time fully occupied.
It was like unto standing upon the summit of a volcano which threatens to belch forth flame and death at any instant, and the minutes were to me as hours.
Then the word was passed from the cook-house that breakfast for the prisoners had been made ready, and Simon and I went very unwillingly to take charge of it.
It was evident that even we two lads would not be allowed to loiter in our work, for Mr. Fernald called sharply after us, as we were going slowly forward:
“Bear a hand there, lads! There is to be no sodgerin’ this mornin’!”
We quickened our pace, Simon whispering to me, as we did so:
“I wonder if he would step out lively in case it was his duty to go below alone.”
“He did last night, when all the money in the world wouldn’t have tempted me to drop through the fore-hatch.”
“That was because he had to do so, or own himself a coward before the captain.”
“And we are in exactly the same plight,” I said, taking heart as he grew timid. “While it is a fact that I’m afraid to go below, I’d give up all my share of prize-money rather than let Mr. Fernald understand exactly what is in my mind.”
Like all imaginary dangers, this venturing into the hold of the ship amounted to nothing, and when we were come to the prison, which on board vessels is called the “brig,” I breathed more freely, for, having once descended through the hatch where had appeared the apparition, courage began to return.
The sailors who had acted as guard during the night welcomed our coming, and went on deck as soon as might be, eager to learn the cause of the disturbance during the evening previous.
We two lads were now in charge of the Britishers, and, save when they were taken on deck for exercise, would be held responsible for their safety until night came once more.
We served out the food as usual, and while doing so it appeared to me as if one man was presenting himself a second time for the allowance, whereupon I asked:
“Were you not the third in line when we began to serve breakfast?”
“If I had been you wouldn’t see me here now, because I’d be workin’ my jaws over the scanty allowance.”
“There is nothing scanty about it,” Simon cried, indignantly. “You are receiving the same amount of food as does any member of our crew.”
“Well, I’m not grumbling except you are trying to cheat me out of my portion,” the man said, half apologetically, and without further ado I handed him a pannikin, for we carried each man’s allowance in a separate dish, to the end that the stronger might not take advantage of the weaker, saying to myself as I did so:
“If that fellow has been served, as I fancy, we shall come out short before all are fed.”
A moment later it appeared that I had wronged the man, for nineteen pannikins had been passed into the brig, which was exactly the number necessary if each prisoner was to receive one.
Even with this proof I felt puzzled, for it surely seemed as if one man had gotten a double allowance, and, without really intending to do so, I counted the prisoners as they were squatting here or there busily engaged with the meal.
There were but eighteen.
Again I counted, arriving at the same conclusion.
It did not seem possible one man alone could haveescaped, for if such an opportunity had presented itself, why did not some of the others take advantage of it? And yet where was this nineteenth prisoner?
On board the ship, as a matter of course.
Therefore, so I argued to myself quickly, if there had been an escape, it must have occurred after Mr. Fernald searched the ship on the evening previous, when was heard that strange voice, and yet the door of the brig was securely fastened, while two men had, supposedly, kept watch all night.
Now it came to me that I might be mistaken, although that was hardly probable, and beckoning to Simon to come aft with me to such a distance from the prisoners that the words could not be overheard, I asked him the question:
“How many prisoners did we take from theJames and Charlotte?”
“Twelve all told,” he replied. “Eleven came down here, and the captain went into the cabin.”
“How many came to us from theBenjamin?”
“Eight, and they are all here.”
“That should make nineteen,” I repeated half to myself.
“Ay, of course it does. What have you in your head now?”
“Go and count the Britishers.”
“I can do that as I stand here,” and Simon commenced, stopping when he had ended with eighteen, and beginning over again.
“Is there one missing?” he asked, as if doubting the evidence of his own senses.
Well, we puzzled over that matter half an hour or more, examining every portion of the brig without allowing the prisoners to understand what we were about, and it was impossible to arrive at any other conclusion.
There were but eighteen men in the brig, and yet the prison remained as it ever had been, so secure that anything larger than a cat could not have gotten out.
Then we went aft a short distance, to discuss the matter, and Simon repeated again and again this question:
“What could it advantage a man to escape from the brig, in case an opportunity presented itself? By so doing he would shut himself off from taking exercise in the open air once a day, and stand a chance of getting mighty hungry.”
“Now I am positive that the fellow to whom I spoke took two allowances.”
“How can it avail the man who is free, if there be one outside? With a guard kept night and day, nothing could be passed out from the brig.”
I failed to answer his question, yet the fact remained that, apparently, one of the prisoners was missing, and lest we should have made a mistake in supposing nineteen had been confined in the brig, I proposed to go quietly on deck and ask some one of the men the same questions I had asked Simon.
He, however, refused to be left alone, and I did not count him a coward because of his fears.
What with the apparition and ghostly voice, and the possibility that a Britisher might be roaming around thehold ready to make an attempt in case a single sentinel should be left on duty, it was by no means cheerful to take one’s chances alone.
Those sailors who had been acting as guard during the night left their muskets, when they went on deck, according to custom, nearabout the ladder leading to the gun-deck, in case we might need them.
Heretofore the weapons had remained undisturbed, because while the door of the brig was firmly secured it did not seem as if we had any use for them.
Now, however, I armed myself with a musket, Simon doing the same, and once more we retired out of ear-shot for consultation.
There was in my mind a very well-defined idea that we should, without delay, acquaint the captain of our discovery, and yet I was eager to first avoid the possibility of a mistake by questioning some of the men as to the number of prisoners we had taken aboard, lest we be laughed at for entertaining cowardly fears.
My mind was in such a whirl, what with one thing and another happening during the past four and twenty hours, that I was not willing to accept as evidence the fact that the cooks had filled nineteen pannikins with food.
I suggested as much to Simon, whereupon he declared that nothing would induce him to remain in the hold alone; but that if I was so eager the matter be settled at once, he would go on deck, leaving me to stand guard.
Then I suddenly came to the conclusion that no great harm could be done, at least during this forenoon whenwe were keeping careful watch, and it might be as well that we wait until the prisoners were taken out for exercise.
The Britishers must have understood that there was something unusual in the wind, for it had been our custom to pass the time in conversation with them, whereas we now held ourselves aloof, not even offering to tell them what the weather might be.
They talked in low tones among themselves for awhile, and finally one called out:
“What was the rumpus last night?”
“How did you know there was any?” I asked, thinking to learn how much they had heard.
“A man would need to be both blind and deaf who couldn’t understand something was wrong when all hands were runnin’ back an’ forth. One of the officers came down here and searched the hold as if he’d lost his prize-money.”
“It seems you know more about it than we do, for I could not have said the hold was searched last night.”
“It may have been that your mate was on a tour of inspection; but at all events he gave this part of the craft a pretty thorough overhauling. Did anything go wrong?”
I was not minded that the prisoners should know in what condition was our crew, lest, if a favourable opportunity presented itself, they might think it possible to rise against us successfully, although it would have been a ridiculous notion for eighteen men, unarmed, to attackone hundred and fifty, with all the weapons on the ship at their disposal.
Therefore I refused to answer the question by holding my peace, and, most likely understanding that there was some good reason for my silence, the Britishers gave over questioning.
The time had come when a half a dozen or more of our men should come down to take the prisoners on deck for exercise, and when they arrived I was resolved to ask that some of them act in our stead while we went aft for an interview with the captain.
We waited impatiently, Simon and I both puzzling our brains over the supposed fact that one of the Britishers was missing, at the same time that we speculated with fear upon the events of the previous evening.
The hours passed, and no one came to our relief.
The unfortunate men, whose only pleasure, I might almost say comfort, consisted in an hour spent in the open air, began to complain bitterly, and ask us again and again why the necessary exercise was forbidden them.
“We have no reason to suppose that you will not be taken on deck,” Simon said, petulantly, after the question had been asked a dozen times. “Unless there may be a chance of taking another prize, some of the crew must surely be here very soon.”
These words of my comrade served to explain to my satisfaction why we had been left so long alone.
Beyond a question something had come in sight, and theAmericawas in close pursuit, which would explainwhy the Britishers were denied their brief time of comparative liberty.
It seemed to me as if it must be two or three hours past noon, when a voice from the hatch which led into the hold cried out:
“Here’s your grub, lads! Come up an’ get it!”
Quickly I ran to the foot of the ladder, shouting Mr. Fernald’s name at the full strength of my lungs, for although it seemed impossible one of the mates would have performed such a task as bringing food from the galley, the voice sounded strangely like his.
No reply was received to my outcries, and when I gained the top of the ladder the gun-deck was deserted.
Nearby the hatchway were the pannikins of food; but I gave no heed to them as I stood gazing around me, rapidly giving way to fear and apprehension.
“What’s the matter?” Simon cried, coming hurriedly to the foot of the ladder.
“That’s what I don’t know. Here are the prisoners’ dinners, and yet no one has come to relieve us.”
In silence, and like two stupids, I stood at the top and he at the foot of the ladder, gazing at each other in what was very like terror, and then, understanding that we were giving the Britishers an exhibition of cowardice, I said, sharply:
“If they have neglected us, it is no reason why we should not do our duty. Stand by to take this grub, and I’ll pass it down.”
Simon obeyed, and when all the pannikins were rangedin front of the brig ready for distribution, I came below, saying to the prisoners as I did so:
“We don’t count on giving a double portion to any one of you this noon, so form in line and hold your pannikins in plain sight until all are delivered.”
“‘WE DON’T COUNT ON GIVING A DOUBLE PORTION TO ANY ONE OF YOU THIS NOON.’”
“‘WE DON’T COUNT ON GIVING A DOUBLE PORTION TO ANY ONE OF YOU THIS NOON.’”
There was in front of the brig a small bar which, on being removed, gave an aperture sufficiently large to pass in food or water, and through this the prisoners were served.
As a matter of course, there was one pannikin left after each man had gotten his portion, and I fancied all the Britishers looked grievously disappointed because we had thus been careful in the distribution of food.
“What are we to do with this one?” Simon asked, lifting the remaining dish.
“I reckon we had better divide what is in it, for it seems much as if we had been forgotten this day.”
“But surely they count on relieving us for a time.”
“They haven’t done so as yet, and whoever brought the grub was in a tremendous hurry.”
“What do you suppose can be happening on deck?” the lad asked, in a whisper, and I, rendered irritable because a similar question was in my own mind, causing me decided fear, replied, sharply:
“What good can come of our speculating about matters on deck? We have been set to this work, and should be men enough to take what comes, or get along on what fails us, without grumbling.”
“It must be they have sighted a Britisher, and aregiving chase,” the lad said, as if trying by thus speaking to persuade himself such was the case, while I, now become a prey to gloomy fears, said, without believing what I spoke:
“That must be the reason why whoever brought the grub was in such a hurry to get on deck again.”
This reply appeared to satisfy Simon; but I was very near to believing that theAmerica’screw had broken forth in open mutiny.