The Flag of Distress Part 52

THE SCUTTLERS.

Harry Blew is in the hold, Bill Davis beside him.

They are standing on the bottom-timbers on a spot they have selected for their wicked work, and which they have had some difficulty in finding.

They have reached it, by clambering over sandal-wood logs, cases of Manilla cigars, and piles of tortoise-sh.e.l.l. Clearing some of these articles out of the way, they get sight of the vessel's ribs, and at a point they know to be under the water-line. They know also that a hole bored between their feet, though ever so small, will in due time fill the barque's hold with water, and send her to the bottom of the sea.

Davis, auger in hand, stands in readiness to bore the hole; waiting for the first officer to give the word.

But something stays the latter from giving it, as the former from commencing the work.

It is a thought that seems to occur simultaneously to both, bringing their eyes up to one another's faces, in a fiance mutually interrogative. Blew is the first to put it in speech.

"Dang me, if I like to do it!"

"Ye've spoke my mind exact, Mr Blew!" rejoins Davis. "No more do I."

"'Tan't nothing short of murder," pursues the chief mate. "An' that's just why I an't up to it; the more, as there an't any downright needcessity. As I sayed to them above, I can see no good reason for sinking the s.h.i.+p. She'd sail right out, an' we'd never hear word o' her again. An' if them to be left 'board o' her shud get picked up, what matters that to us? We'll be out o' the way, long afore they could go anywhere to gi'e evidence against us. Neer a fear o' their ever findin'

us--neyther you nor me, anyhow. I dare say, Davis, you mean to steer for some port, where we're not likely to meet any more Spaniards. I do, when I've stowed my share o' the plunder."

"Yes; I'm for Australia, soon's I can get there. That's the place for men like me."

"There you'll be safe enough. So I, where I intend goin'. And we'll both feel better, not havin' a ugly thing to reflect back on. Which we would, if we send these three poor creeturs to Davy's locker. Now, I propose to you what you heerd me say to the rest: let's gi'e them a chance for their lives."

"And not do this?"

As he puts the question, Davis points his auger to the bottom of the s.h.i.+p.

"There an't no need--not a morsel o' good can come from sinkin' her.

And not a bit harm in lettin' her slip."

"What will the others say?"

"They won't know anything about it--they can't unless we tell 'em. And we won't be the fools to do that. As I argied to them, with the wind off-sh.o.r.e, as 'tis now, she'll scud out o' sight o' land long afore daylight. Bill Davis! whatsomever the others may do, or think they're doin', let's me an' you keep our consciences clear o' this foul deed.

Believe me, mate, we'll both feel better for't some day."

"If you think they won't know, I'm agreed."

"How can they? There an't none o' them to see what we do down here.

'Taint likely there's any listener. Gie a knock or two wi' the mallet!"

The s.h.i.+p's carpenter obeying, strikes several blows against an empty water-cask, the noise ascending through the open hatch. He suspends his strokes at hearing exclamations above; then screams in the shrill treble of female voices.

"You see they're not thinking o' us," says the mate. "Them Spaniards are too busy about their own share o' the job. They're gettin' the girls into the boat."

"Yes; that's what they're doing."

"Sweet girls both be. An't they, Davis?"

"Ay, that they are; a pair of reg'lar beauties."

"Look here, s.h.i.+pmate! Since we've settled this other thing, I want to say a word about them too, and I may's well say it now. Gomez and that land-lubber, Hernandez, are layin' claim to them, as if they had a right. Now they haven't, no more than any o' the rest o' us. Some others may have fancies, too. I confess to havin' a weakness for the one wi' the copper-coloured hair, which is she as Gil Gomez wants to 'propriate. I made no objection to his takin' her into the boat. But soon's we get ash.o.r.e, I intend to stan' out for my rights to that little bit o' property, which are just as good as his. Do you feel like backin' me?"

"Hang me, if I don't! I'm myself a bit sweet upon the dark 'un, and have been, ever since settin' eyes on her. And though I've said nothing, like yourself, I wasn't going to give that point up, before having a talk about it. You say the word--I'll stan' by you. And if it comes to fightin', I'll make short work with that bandy-legged chap Hernandez, the one as wants her. We can count on Jack Striker on our side; and most like the Dane and Dutchman; La Crosse for certain.

Frenchy don't cotton to them Spaniards, ever since his quarrel with Padilla. But, as you say, let's go in for the girls, whether or not.

You can claim the light-haired. I'm for the dark one, an' d.a.m.ned if I an't ready to fight for her--to the death!"

"As I for the other!" exclaims the ex-man-o'-war, in eager serious earnest.

"But what's to be done after we go ash.o.r.e?" asks Davis. "That's what's been bothering me. We're about to land in a strange country, but where these Spanish chaps will be at home, speakin' the lingo, an'll so have the advantage of us. There's a difficulty. Can you see a way out of it?"

"Clearly."

"How?"

"Because the girls don't care for eyther o' the two as are layin' claim to them. Contrarywise, they hate 'em both. I've knowd that all along.

So, if we get 'em out o' their clutches--at the same time givin' the girls a whisper about protectin' them--they'll go willin'ly 'long wi'

us. Afterwards, we can act accordin' to the chances that turn up. Only swear you'll stan' by me, Bill, an' wi' Striker to back us, we'll bring things right."

"I'm bound to stan' by you; so'll Jack, I'm sure. Hark! that's him, now! He's calling to us. By G.o.d, I believe they're in the boat!"

"They are! Let's hurry up! Just possible them Spaniards may take it into their heads--. Quick, s.h.i.+pmate! Heave after me!"

With this, Blew holds out the lantern to light them up the hatch, both making as much haste to reach the deck as if their lives depended upon speed.

CHAPTER SIXTY ONE.

THE BARQUE ABANDONED.

While the scuttlers are s.h.i.+rking their work in the _Condor's_ hold, and simultaneous with the abduction on deck, a scene is transpiring in her cabin, which might be likened to a saturnalia of demons.

The skipper and Don Gregorio, sitting over their walnuts and wine, are startled by the sound of footsteps descending the stair. As they are heavy and hurried, bearing no resemblance to the gentle tread of woman-- it cannot be the ladies coming down again. Nor yet the negro cook, since his voice is heard above in angry expostulation. Two of the sailors have just seized him in his galley, throttled him back on the bench, and are there las.h.i.+ng him with a piece of log-line.

They at the cabin-table know nothing of this. They hear his shouts, and now also the shrieks of the young girls; but have no time to take any steps, as at that instant the cuddy-door is dashed open, and several men come rus.h.i.+ng in; the second mate at their head. Lantanas, sitting with his face to the door, sees them first, Don Gregorio, turning in his seat, the instant after.

Neither thinks of demanding a reason for the rude intrusion. The determined air of the intruders, with the fierce expression on their faces, tells it would be idle.

In a time shorter than it takes to tell it, the two doomed men are made fast to the stanchioned chairs; where they sit bolt upright, firm as bollard heads. But not in silence. Both utter threats, oaths, angry fulminations.

Not for long are they allowed this freedom of speech. One of the sailors, seizing a pair of nutcrackers, thrusts them between the skipper's teeth, gagging him. Another with a corkscrew, does the like for Don Gregorio.

Then the work of pillage proceeds. The locker lids are forced, and the boxes of gold-dust dragged out.

Several goings and comings are required for its transport to the pinnace; but at length it is stowed in the boat, the plunderers taking their seats beside it.

One lingers in the cabin behind the rest; that fiend in human shape who has all along counselled killing the unfortunate men.

Left alone with them, helpless, and at his mercy, he looks as if still determined to do this. It is not from any motive of compa.s.sion that he goes from one to the other, and strikes the gags from between their teeth. For at the same time he apostrophises them in horrid mockery: