CHAPTER V.THE BARRICADE.
Theshipkeeper had hardly concluded, when he heard footsteps descending the companion-way, and peering through the hatch, he saw the steward just as that worthy—still pale and bloody from the effects of the wounds he had received—gained the bottom of the short staircase.
With a low cry of exultation, Stump pulled himself quickly out of the run, and, rushing upon the startled Portuguese, caught him by the throat, at the same time presenting his pistol at his head.
“No noise, you miserable sneak, or down you go, a dead porpoise sure enough. Just hand over the key that unlocks Miss Howard’s room, together with the one that belongs to Marline’s handcuffs!”
“I—I—de—de—— You no kill me!” stammered the steward, nearly frightened out of his wits.
“The keys—the keys!” muttered Stump, shaking him violently; “it’s the keys I want—d’ye hear?”
“I—I—give you ’em quick,” gasped Joseph, while his eyes fairly rolled in his head with terror.
“Here—here,” he added, pulling the required instruments from his pocket—“here dey be, and now you no kill me!”
In order to receive the keys, the shipkeeper let go of the steward’s throat, and his joy was so great when the articles were in his hands, that for a moment, while contemplating them, he almost forgot the presence of the mutineer.
The latter was not slow to take advantage of this circumstance. He bounded up the companion-way, and disappeared, before Stump could lift his pistol.
“Ay, ay—the rascal’s gone, sure enough!” cried the shipkeeper, in a tone of mortification, “and it’s l’arned me a lesson, which is, that them that doesn’t keep their eyes squinted both ways, or that allows their pleasures to turn ’em aside from their duties, is bound to suffer for it in the end.”
“Never mind,” said Marline, who had risen, and was looking through the open hatchway; “but, come quick and unlock these handcuffs. That fellow, I can even hear now giving the alarm on deck, and the sooner my arms are at liberty, the better will it be for us both!”
“There’s plenty of truth in that,” replied the shipkeeper, as he now set himself to work to unfasten the irons from his friend’s wrists, “plenty of truth in that, and—”
“How! Why! A thousand devils! What does this mean?” interrupted the voice of Tom Lark, at this juncture. “Ho! halloa there—on deck!”
“That rascal has come to, at last!” cried Stump, “and, although it consoles me to think that I didn’t kill a fellow creatur’, there isn’t music enough in that voice—which is something atween the roar of a bull and the grunting of sea-hog—to give any pleasure.”
Marline’s handcuffs dropped clanking to the deck, as his chum spoke, and the young man sprung lightly from the run. The shipkeeper secured the trap above the hatch, while the other, rushing up the companion-way, fastened the door leading to it, by hooking it on the inside.
This task was not accomplished a moment too soon, for a number of kicks and blows were now dealt against the door, and together with the roaring voice of Tom Lark—who evidently chafed in his confinement like a mad bull—created a din such as is seldom heard in a whale-ship!
“Well, my eyes,” soliloquized Stump, “them noises are sartainly not very inviting, nor those that make ’em very chival-rie-ous, seeing that a young lady lodges in this hotel!”
“They will pound the door to pieces before many hours,” said Marline, “and before that happens I must make sure of the rifle that hangs in the captain’s state-room, so that we can show a good resistance to the bloodthirsty wretches.”
“Ay, ay, bloodthirsty is the word,” said Stump. “Them five pow-wows on deck are mad enough by this time to eat us alive. They ain’t at all particular, they ain’t, about the quality of their grub when they be angry. It’s parfectly astonishing how few ‘raal’ ‘epichewers’ there is in this world!”
Marline did not pause to reply to this philosophical remark. He hastened to the state-room and procured the rifle—which was already loaded—together with a bullet-pouch, and an old-fashioned powder-horn, containing a small supply of ammunition.
“Now, then, my friend, quick! Give me the key to Alice’s apartment.”
“Here it is!” replied the shipkeeper, placing the instrument in his hand, “and mighty glad, I warrant you, will be the poor gal to see you. So, away you go, and God bless you both, while Stump keeps guard.”
A very few steps carried the young man to the door which he sought, and which was nearly in a straight line with the foot of the stairway.
He placed his rifle against the carved wainscot, and turned the key in the lock of the door. Then he knocked gently upon one of the panels; but a half-smothered cry of alarm was the only response to the summons.
“Do not fear, dear Alice; it is I—Harry Marline!”
The door was quickly opened, and Alice, with surprise and pleasure beaming in her great brown eyes, stood before him.
She looked so beautiful in her excitement, that Harry stood for a moment staring upon her like one under the influence of a spell. As the long lashes of those innocent eyes gradually drooped under his admiring glance, he was unable to resist the impulse that sprung up within him. He threw an arm around the pretty waist, and drawing the unresisting girl to his bosom, kissed her with a fervor peculiar to seafaring men.
She gently disengaged herself from his embrace. “Oh! Harry, I am so glad to see you. I have been so frightened! Those terrible noises! What are they trying to do now? They are at the cabin-door!”
“To break it open,” replied Harry.
“Who? the mutineers?”
“Yes.”
“Why, I—I thought, when I saw you, that all this was over—that you and your gallant crew had come aboard and persuaded those misguided men to return to their duty.”
“I came alone,” said the harpooner, and he then proceeded to make her acquainted with those occurrences of which the reader has already been informed.
“Dear Harry,” faltered the young girl, “how you must have suffered. I am sorry, now, that you came aboard.”
“Sorry?”
“Yes, because, in addition to what you have already endured, you will have more trouble. The mutineers will soon break open the door, and, then—then—Oh! my God! What if they should kill you?”
“Fear not for me, dear girl,” replied the harpooner, “I am armed—and so is Stump. We can make a stout resistance and we will protect you as long as we can stand.”
“I do not fear for myself,” replied Alice, “I don’t think they would injure me. But you and your friend—what can you do against three times your number?”
“But they have only harpoons and lances while we are provided with fire-arms. I have your father’s rifle and—”
“I think I have heard him say that it is damaged so it won’t go off.”
“I will soon decide that point,” said Marline, and he lifted the weapon and scanned the lock.
“You are right, Alice, the piece can not be discharged, but it can be made useful in other respects.”
Crash! went a heavy ax, against the cabin-door, at this juncture, and the sharp edge of the instrument was seen to protrude through the wood-work!
“Ay, ay!” cried Stump, “there it goes—it’s a-going—the door!”
And even as he spoke, another tremendous blow shivered one of the panels into fragments.
“This way, friend Stump!” cried Marline, “we must form a barricade.”
The shipkeeper came, and the two proceeded to erect a sort of breastwork with a sofa, a few chairs and a table, which were firmly secured with ratlin stuff across the doorway of Alice’s apartment. The whole work was completed with great dispatch, and was viewed with much satisfaction by the two sailors, for they felt confident that they could prevent the mutineers from passing this barrier.
Alice, who had been led by Marline to the further corner of the apartment, stood with clasped hands and pale cheeks watching the movements of her friends, and it was with a sinking heart that she at length heard the door of the cabin give way with a tremendous crash before the repeated blows of the ax!
Then a terrific yell broke upon her ear, as the savage Driko, flourishing a sharp hatchet around his head, and followed by the rest of the mutineers, armed with long lances, rushed down the companion-way.
“This way, lads! this way!” roared Tom Lark, from the run, “I am tied hand and foot! Come and set me free—quick! I am dying to give them two rascals a lesson on equal rights!”
“None of that, you infarnal pow-wow!” cried Stump, pointing his pistol at the head of the Kanaka, who was now moving toward the hatch, “none of that or you are a dead fish! It’s parfectly astonishing,” he added, “to hear such an imp of Satan as that creatur’ in the hold a-prating about equal rights!”
Every one of the mutineers halted. The sight of Stump’s weapon, and the rifle in Marline’s hand, had not been anticipated by these men. They looked at one another in surprise, and even seemed disposed to beat a retreat.
Observing these signs of indecision, the resolution of the harpooner was formed in an instant. Motioning to Stump to follow him, he suddenly leaped over the barricade, and coolly advanced toward the party, with the muzzle of his piece directed toward them.
“Put down your arms, and return to your duty—every man of you!” he cried, sternly, “if you value your lives! I do not feel disposed to trifle with you!”
“No, not a bit of it!” cried the doughty little shipkeeper, as he covered the head of Driko with his pistol. “You are dead pow-wows of a sartainty, if you don’t obey. You can’t expect any mercy fromme, at any rate, after the way you tumbled me into the main hold!”
“No—no!” yelled the prisoner in the run, “don’t yield to ’em, men. Pitch into ’em—they can’t fire but two shots at the most. You miserable imp of a Driko, where are you? Why don’t you attack ’em? They are only two and you are four! One good assault and you can cut ’em to pieces—perhaps without the loss of a man!”
“My eyes!” cried Stump, with a low whistle, “it’s marvelous to hear the way that animal is urgin’ on his pow-wows, while he himself is out of harm’s way. Them that does that ain’t always the most persuasive, seeing as it’s only examples that’s contagious.”
And the speaker was right, for the mutineers, becoming more irresolute as they marked the firm purpose that shone in the steady eyes of their two adversaries, were deaf to the commands of Lark.
“Come, down with your lances—or we’ll fire!” shouted Marline, “and we’ll do the same if you attempt to retreat. Remember that whether you fly from or attack us, two of you at least must fall!”
This was not to be disputed, and, dropping his weapon, Driko motioned to his three followers to imitate his example. They obeyed, and the harpooner then ordered the whole party to the deck. The command met with the same success as thatwhich had attended the previous one. The four men, with cowed and sullen faces, ascended the companion-way, followed by their two conquerors, who still retained their arms; and as soon as they were on deck, Marline gave orders to “wear” (veer) ship.
As the vessel was under whole topsails, it seemed impossible that this duty could be executed by the few men now in the craft; but, the harpooner and his friend lent their assistance, and the yards were swung round at last. As the wind was now from the westward, Marline soon afterward squared topsails and stood due east—hoping that this course would soon enable him to fall in with some of the boats. The man at the wheel, who was none other than the Portuguese steward Joseph, was doubtless much surprised at the change of commanders; but, whatever may have been his thoughts, the coward was too prudent to express them. He was an excellent steersman, and he now did his best, evidently hoping by this means to find favor in the eyes of the man whom he had insulted while he was a helpless prisoner.
“That’s right, keep her steady!” cried Marline, approvingly, “and you there on the knightheads!” he added, glancing forward—“look sharp for the boats and the ice!”
“Ay, ay,” answered the dusky seaman, and his voice was far from cheerful.
Descending into the cabin—after having ordered Stump to keep close to the companion-way, and to maintain a vigilant watch—the young man now entered the apartment occupied by Alice.
She bounded forward to meet him, and did not offer any very decided objection to the embrace with which he received her.
“I am so glad!” she said, as she gently disengaged herself after he had kissed her at least a dozen times, “I am so glad that the mutiny was subdued without bloodshed—that you are safe and uninjured!”
“And what is still better, I trust that we will soon fall in with the boats,” said Marline. “I wore round about ten minutes ago.”
“Wore round? What is that?” inquired Alice.
“What? you, a sailor’s niece, don’t know what it is to wear ship!”
“How should I?” retorted Alice. “You know that I never took any interest in your salt-water phrases, nor much in any thing pertaining to the ocean.”
“Why then did you go to sea?”
The cheeks of the younggirl were instantly covered with blushes. Her heart beat rapidly. She lowered her eyes and did not speak until she could muster sufficient resolution to lift them to the face of her interrogator. Then the glances of both met—a heaven of womanly tenderness in hers, and in his the deep, strong passion of the man.
She stepped toward him, placed both hands upon his arms and hiding her face in his bosom, said, in a tremulous voice:
“Why should I not acknowledge it? It was that I might be near you!”
“And Alice,” said he, “if you were not in this ship it would lose all attraction for me. God shield you from all harm,” he added, as a sudden indefinable presentiment for which he could not account, swept over his spirit, “and preserve you, that we may both be made happy.”
Then the lovers seated themselves, and with their hands interlocked, talked of the future, which they were pleased to fancy would be full of sunshine and without a cloud.