Sail Ho! Part 71

"Here's the hatches, sir, and they're all battened down and the 'paulins is nailed over 'em. I'll soon have some fresh air in." And before I could grasp what he was going to do, I heard a curious ripping sound, which told me that he had pa.s.sed the blade of his long Spanish spring-knife through between two of the cross-hatches, and was cutting through it.

"There!" he said, as a gleam of light struck through, so brilliant that I knew it must be broad daylight; and even that ray sent a thrill of hope through me, for it seemed to bring me nearer to the living world after feeling as if I had been buried alive.

"Don't cut any more yet, Bob," I whispered.

"But that there hole won't give enough air for one man to sniff, sir.

You must have another to let out the steam."

"But listen first," I said. "Can you hear any one on deck?"

There was perfect silence for some minutes, and then came a deep--

"No."

"What time should you think it is?"

"'Bout four bells, I should say, sir. Sun's s.h.i.+ning down so as the tarpaulin's made the hatch hot."

"Then the lubbers are all having a caulk," growled Dumlow. "Tell him to have another cut, sir, and a good long 'un this time."

I hesitated for a few moments, shrinking from doing anything to let the enemy know that we were trying to get out; but the heat was so terrible that I was obliged to give the order at last.

"Cut, Bob," I whispered, and there was a low buzz of satisfaction as the knife ripped through the tarred canvas, and we could see a long streak of bright light.

"'Nother, sir?" said Bob.

"Yes," I said desperately, "we shall be suffocated if you don't."

Rip went the tarpaulin again, and another streak of light a short distance from the others appeared, while directly after, without waiting for orders, Bob lengthened the first cut he had made till it equalled the two latter.

"Won't be much better," he growled, "but it's better than nothing.

Shall I get under the end of one of the hatches now, sir, and try and push it up?"

"No, not yet. If we do that it ought to be after dark. But I don't think there will be any chance, for they are sure to be well fastened down. Listen again. There must be some one on deck."

"Yes, sir, for sartain, but they'll be up at the other end. Dessay they're a-feeding o' themselves, and got plenty to drink."

"Ay, trust 'em, messmate," growled Dumlow, "but it's no use to grumble.

Ups and downs in life we see. We're down now, and it's their turn."

"Now," said Barney.

"Hus.h.!.+" I whispered.

We all listened, and plainly heard a step overhead, as if a man was walking along the deck. It pa.s.sed by, sounding fainter, and died away, but at the end of a minute we heard it again, and knew that whoever it might be, he was returning and would pa.s.s by us again.

This happened, and I feared that he would notice the cuts in the tarpaulin, but he went on, the footsteps grew fainter, and I fancied that I heard them continue on the ladder as the man ascended to the p.o.o.p-deck.

"Could you tell who that was, Bob?" I said.

"Ay, sir. No mistaking that pair o' legs. They don't go like an Englishman's would. That was old Jarette."

I set my teeth hard, and almost writhed at the feeling of impotence which troubled me. To have been so near success, and then for that scoundrel, who had promised to work faithfully for us if he were forgiven, to have played the spy, and contrived after hearing our plot to change the contents of the tins. For it was all clear enough now in my memory, and I could recall every word the man had said to the cook.

"We ought to have kept some one on the watch while we made our plans," I said to myself, but felt how absurd it was to murmur now that the mischief was done.

The heat seemed a little less intense now, but it was so terrible that the throbbing in my head commenced again, and I was ready to order an attempt to be made to force up one side of the hatch, when there was a whisper.

"What say, Bob?" I replied.

"Didn't speak, sir," was the reply.

"You then, Dumlow?"

"No; not me, sir."

"Well then, Barney, it was you," I said tetchily. "What do you want?"

"I never spoke, sir," said Barney, in an ill-used tone. "What do they want to say it was me for?"

"Cheer up!" came now quite plainly.

"Eh? Who spoke?"

"Friend," was whispered again.

"Yes, what? Who is it?"

"Pst!"

I waited for whoever it was to speak again, but there was not another sound, and I turned to where I believed Bob to be lying.

"Who could that be?" I said.

"Well, sir, when a man blows his words down through a slit in a tarpaulin--"

"You think it came down through the hole you cut?"

"Yes, sir, sure on it; but as I was a-saying, when a man blows his words down like that he might just as well be whistlin' a hornpipe for all you can tell who it is. But if I was put upon my oath afore a judge I should swear as it were Plum Duff."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Well, sir, old Byled Salt Pork."

"The cook?"

"That's him, sir."

"But he whispered 'Friend,'" I panted excitedly.