Dutch the Diver Part 54

"Oak.u.m," said the Cuban sharply; and the old sailor faced round, wondering whether he had been heard, while Rasp went on mending and arranging his diving tackle as if nothing was the matter.

"Sir to you," said Sam.

"I shall sail to-night or to-morrow morning. Have all ready."

"Ay, ay, sir," said Sam cheerfully; and then to himself, "Perhaps you will, and for a longish voyage."

"We've got all the silver here, and I think I shall try one more spot."

"All right, capen," said Sam; "nothing like having a good cargo while you're about it."

"Have all ready," said the Cuban gloomily.

"Right, capen," said Sam, "but--"

"Well, what?" said the Cuban, looking sharply round as if in search of danger; but the sh.o.r.e was on every side verdant and beautiful, the sea calm and bright, and nothing to show the horrors of the s.h.i.+p but a few spots of blood upon the white deck.

"I was on'y going to say as if I was skipper I should put off the start till the morning."

"Why?" said the Cuban, looking at him searchingly.

"The sun'll be down afore we could work out of this snug place so as to ketch the breeze, and there's a rock there, and a rock there, and a couple more to starboard, and three off yonder to port. I shouldn't like to take off a bit of the schooner's keel, or poke a hole in her bottom, with all that silver aboard. A man likes to obey orders, capen: but when he's got a stake in the safe running of the cargo, it makes him partickler like."

"You're right," said the Cuban. "At daybreak, then."

"Daybreak it is," said Sam, giving his trousers a hitch; and taking out a little silver pipe, he blew a shrill note. "All hands ahoy!" he roared, and as the men collected, he set to work clearing away the lumber, coiling ropes s.h.i.+p-shape, hoisted a boat that had been down over the side, and then altered his mind and had it lowered again. "We shall want it for towing her head round in the morning," he said, and so busied himself so as to have everything well forward, while the Cuban looked on with an approving eye.

"You shan't be forgotten for all this, Sam Oak.u.m," he said.

"Thankye, capen, thankye," said Sam, as the Cuban walked forward, and the old sailor filled a pipe for an extra luxury, just as it was getting dark.

"Here, you black-faced son of a coal-hole, give's a light," cried Sam, loudly, as he went to the galley where 'Pollo was busy preparing tea for all on board.

"Yes, Ma.s.s' Oak.u.m," said the black, flinching from a blow aimed at him as he spoke, when, to the poor fellow's horror, Sam seized him by the scruff of the neck, pushed his head into an open barrel, and whispered:

"Don't you make a sound, 'Pollo, old man. It's all my larks. Don't laugh, you lubber, but get your biggest carving knife, and hide here in the middle watch: there's a game on, my lad, and I want you to help to retake the s.h.i.+p."

"Oh, golly, Ma.s.s' Oak.u.m, sah, dat I will; I bress de lor', sah, you not big rufiyun affer all. I bress de lor'."

"Hus.h.!.+ hold your tongue, lad. Mum's the word. Now then, you black n.i.g.g.e.r, look alive with that grub," he said aloud. "I'm 'most starving."

He came out puffing away at his pipe as the Cuban came slowly along the deck, looking suspiciously at Sam, who, however, did not seem to heed his look, but fixing himself on the bulwark, with his legs under him, and his arm round one of the shrouds, he half-shut his eyes, and smoked away as if with real enjoyment, blinking at the sh.o.r.e, and all the while ripening his plans for the fierce work to be undertaken that night.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

PRISONERS.

Meanwhile, to Hester's horror, she found that they were to be prisoners in Laure's cabin, and that the drunken scoundrel who shared it with him kept coming down blinking and leering at them, making their very blood run cold.

His offensive manner was, however, for the time stopped by the Cuban, who came down, and pointing to the inner cabin bade them go in there.

Their only course was to obey, and the two trembling women crouched together, dreading the coming night, and yet hoping that some successful effort would be made for their release.

"Let us hope and pray, Bessy," said Hester, trying to be cheerful, in spite of her misery. "Dear old Rasp's words were not uttered without meaning."

"But is he to be trusted?" sobbed Bessy; "he was with our enemies."

"Trusted? yes," cried Hester; "his behaviour must have been to deceive the wretches, and he and old Oak.u.m are working for our release."

"If I could only be as hopeful as you are, Hester."

"I _am_ full of hope now," cried Hester. "I can wait, and feel strong and full of energy, with my husband's trust. Time back I could have died in my misery."

As the hours pa.s.sed on, they could hear the Cuban and his companion talking in the next cabin, and the clink of gla.s.ses told that they were drinking.

All on deck was very still. They had heard the sounds of preparation till nightfall, and then everything became very quiet; and, clinging together, the two women sat with every sense on the strain, listening for the danger they knew to be at hand, while they hoped for the rescue that might come.

It grew rapidly dark, and their cabin was only lit by the gleams that came beneath and through a few ventilation holes in the door, a glance through which, once timidly taken, showed the Cuban drinking heavily with his companion, who grew more stupid and riotous, while the only effect upon Laure was to make his eyes glow as he sat glancing from time to time at the door.

Every now and then, too, some allusion to the prisoners made the women's hearts palpitate with horror, and more than once Hester glanced at the little window as if through that she must seek for the help that was so long in coming, for that she knew would be protection from the outrage she dreaded for them both.

Neither spoke now of their fear, but clung the closer as they listened, till suddenly they heard Laure rise and go on deck, when their breathing became more even, and they sighed with relief.

But hardly had the Cuban's foot left the steps, when his companion raised his head from the table where he had been simulating sleep, and glancing round for a moment he rose and came to the inner cabin door, opened it, and thrust in his head.

"Come here, my birdie," he said thickly. "One of you has got to be my wife, and let's see, you're the captain's," he continued with a hoa.r.s.e laugh, as he thrust Hester aside and caught Bessy in his arms, holding her tightly in spite of her struggles, till she uttered a long and piercing shriek.

The next moment there was a rapid step on the stairs and the Cuban rushed savagely into the cabin, sword in hand.

He made for the ruffian who held Bessy, but as soon as he realised whom the scoundrel had, he uttered a hoa.r.s.e laugh, and, as if incited by his companion's example, he threw the sword upon the table, and caught Hester in his arms.

For a few moments she struggled hard, but her strength failed; and as she felt how powerless she was becoming, she tried to shriek, but, as if prepared for this, Laure, laughing, placed one hand upon her lips, while the other clasped her to him so tightly that she could not move.

Just then, however, Bessy, who had been struggling long and bravely with her a.s.sailant, uttered a series of piercing screams, freed herself from his grasp, and, half-mad with fear and horror, threw her arm round Hester.

"Curse you, you noisy jade," cried the Cuban, furiously; and he struck her brutally across the mouth with the back of his hand as he released Hester, who sank s.h.i.+vering on the cabin floor.

"Here, come away, now," cried the Cuban, sharply; and, thrusting his companion before him, he hurried out and secured the door, leaving the two prisoners sobbing in each other's arms, while the light through the holes in the door streamed in long rays above their heads.

Hester was the first to recover herself, and she rose and tried to comfort her stricken companion, than whom now she seemed to be far the stronger in spirit.

"Help must come soon, Bessy," she whispered. "They will have heard our screams."

"It would be better to die," sobbed Bessy. "There is no hope--no hope whatever."

"What!" cried Hester. "No hope? And with my brave, true husband on board? I tell you help will come, and soon."