Rattlin the Reefer Part 38

"Take that for your civility!" and, with a severe blow with his stick, he laid me prostrate. I was not stunned, but I felt very sick, and altogether incapable of rising. In this state I determined to feign stupefaction, so I nearly closed my eyes, and lay perfectly still. The huge vagabond then placed his knee upon my chest, and called out to his companion:

"I say, Mister, come and see if this here chap's the right un."

The person called to, came up; and, immediately after, through my eyelashes, I beheld the diabolical white face of Daunton. It was so dark, that, to recognise me, he was obliged to place his countenance so close to mine that his hot breath burned against my cheek. He was in a pa.s.sion of terror, and trembled as if in an access of ague.

"It is," said he, whilst his teeth chattered. "Is he stunned?"

"Mister, now I take that as an insult. D'ye think that John Gowles need strike such a strip of a thing as that ere twice?"

"Hus.h.!.+--How very, very cold it is! Where is your knife? Will you do it?"

"Most sartainly not. There--he's at your mercy--I never committed murder yet--no, no, must think of my precious soul. A bargain's a bargain--my part on't is done."

"Gowles, don't talk so loud. I can't bear the sight of blood--and, oh G.o.d!--of this blood--it would spurt upon my hand. Strike him again over the head--he breathes heavily--strike him!"

"No," said the confederate, sullenly. "Tell ye--u'll have neither 'art nor part in this 'ere murder."

During this very interesting conference, I was rallying all my energies for one desperate effort, intending, however, to wait for the uplifted knife, to grasp it, in order that I might turn the weapon against the breast of one a.s.sa.s.sin, and then use it as a defence against the other.

"Would to G.o.d," said the villain, adding blasphemy to concerted murder--"would to G.o.d that my hand was spared this task! Give me the knife now. Where shall I strike him?--I have no strength to drive it into him far."

"Tell ye, Mister, u'll have nought to do with the murder--but u'd advise thee to bare his neck, and thrust in the point just under his right ear."

"Hus.h.!.+ Will it bleed much?"

"d.a.m.nably!"

"Horrible!--horrible! Do you think the story about Cain and Abel is true?"

"As G.o.d is in heaven!"

"Can't it be done without blood?"

"I'll have nothing to do with the murder. But, Mister, if so be as you are so craven-hearted, take your small popper, and send a ball right into his heart. It is a gentleman's death, and will make the prettiest small hole imaginable, and bleed none to signify. But, mind ye, this 'ere murder's all your own."

At this critical moment, as I was inhaling a strong breath, in order to invigorate my frame for instant exertion, I heard two or three voices in the distance carolling out, in a sort of disjointed chorus--

"Many droll sights I've seen, But I wish the wars were over."

"Now or never," said Joshua, producing and c.o.c.king his pistol. I leaped upon my legs in an instant, and, seizing the weapon, which was a small tool, manufactured for a gentleman's pocket, by the barrel with my left hand, and this amiable specimen of fraternity by the right, the struggle of an instant ensued. The muzzle of the pistol was close upon my breast when my adversary discharged it. I felt the sharp, hard knock of the ball upon my chest, and the percussion for the moment took away my breath, but my hold upon the villain's throat was unrelaxed. The gurgling of suffocation became audible to his brutal companion.

"Ods sneckens!" said the brute, "but this 'ere murdered man is throttling my Mister in his death-throe."

Down at once came his tremendous cudgel upon my arm. I released my grip, and again fell to the earth.

"He's a dead man," said Gowles; "run for your life! Mind, Mister, I had neither 'art nor part in this 'ere--"

And they were almost immediately out of sight and out of hearing.

At the report of the pistol, the jolly choristers struck up prestissimo with their feet. They were standing round me just as the retreating feet of my a.s.sa.s.sins had ceased to resound in the stillness of the darkness.

A voice, which I immediately knew to be that of my old adversary, the master's mate, Pigtop, accosted me.

"Holloa, s.h.i.+pmate!--fallen foul of a pirate, mayhap--haven't slipped your wind, ha' ye, messmate?"

"No; but I believe my arm's broken, and I have a pistol ball between my ribs."

"Which way did the lubbers sheer off? Shall we clap on sail, and give chase?"

"It is of no use. I know one of them well. They shall not escape me."

"Why, I know that voice. Yes--no--d.a.m.n me--it must be Ralph Rattlin--it bean't, sure--and here on his beam ends, a shot in his hull, and one of his spars shattered. I'd sooner have had my grog watered all my life than this should have fallen out."

"You have not had your grog watered this evening, Pigtop," said I, rising, a.s.sisted by himself and his comrades. "I don't feel much hurt, after all."

"True, true, s.h.i.+pmate. But we must clap a stopper over all. Small-shot in the chest are bad messmates. We must make a tourniquet of my skysail here."

So, without heeding my cries of pain, he pa.s.sed his handkerchief round my breast; and by the means of twisting his walking-stick in the knot, he hove it so tight, that he not only stopped all effusion of blood, but almost all my efforts at breathing. My left hand still held the discharged pistol, which I gave into the custody of Pigtop. Upon further examination, I found that there was no fracture of the bone of my arm; and that, all things considered, I could walk tolerably well.

However, I still felt a violent pain in my chest, attended with difficulty of breathing, at the least accelerated pace.

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR.

RALPH APPEARS BEFORE A MAGISTRATE, AND PROVES TO BE MORE FRIGHTENED THAN HURT, THOUGH FRIGHTENED AS LITTLE AS A VERITABLE HERO SHOULD BE--A GREAT DEAL OF FUSS ABOUT A LITTLE DUST, NOT KICKED UP, BUT FINALLY LAID DOWN.

We got on, nevertheless, Pigtop shaking his head very dolefully, whenever I paused to recover breath.

We entered the first house that we came to; that of an agricultural labourer. We told our adventure, and the good man immediately proceeded to acquaint the patrol and the constable. I was anxious to examine the nature of my wound, to which my old messmate would not listen for a moment. He was particularly sorry that he saw no blood, from which symptom he argued the worst-looking upon me as a dead man, being certain that I was bleeding inwardly.

I decided for a post-chaise, that I might hasten to town and make my depositions; for I was determined to let loose the hounds of the law after my dastardly enemies, without the loss of a moment. The chaise was soon procured; and, much to the satisfaction of Pigtop, we drove directly to Bow Street--the good fellow having a firm persuasion that the moment his make-s.h.i.+ft tourniquet was withdrawn, I should breathe my last. I had no such direful apprehensions.

When we arrived at the office, the worthy magistrate was on the point of retiring. The clatter of the chaise driving rapidly up to the door, and the exaggerated report of the post-boy, heralded us in with some _eclat_. The magistrate, when he had heard it was a case of murder, very well disguised his regret at the postponement of his dinner.

Mr Pigtop insisted upon supporting me, although I could walk very well--quite as well as himself, considering his potations: and insisted also upon speaking. He was one of the old school of seamen, and could not speak out of his profession. Accordingly he was first sworn. We will give the commencement of his deposition verbatim, as he is one of a cla.s.s that is fast disappearing from the face of the waters.

"If you please, your wors.h.i.+p, I and my two concerts that are lying-to in my wake, after having taken in our wood and water at Woolwich, we braced up sharp, bound for London."

"What do you mean by your wood and water?" said the magistrate.

"Our bub and grub--Here's a magistrate for you! (aside to me)--your wors.h.i.+p, down to our bearings. So, as Bill here said, as how we were working Tom c.o.x's traverse--your wors.h.i.+p knows what that means, well enough."

"Indeed, sir, I don't."

"It's the course the lawyers will take when they make sail for heaven.

I can see, in the twinkling of a purser's dip, that your wors.h.i.+p is no lawyer."

"This, sir, is the first time anyone has had the impertinence to tell me so."