The screams of rage, the groan, the strife,
The blow, the grasp, the horrid cry,
The panting, throttled prayer for life,
The dying's heaving sigh,
The murderer's curse, the dead man's fixed, still glare,
And fear's and death's cold sweat--they all are there.
Matthew Lee.
It was high time that Captain Spike should arrive when his foot
touched the bottom of the yawl. The men were getting impatient and
anxious to the last degree, and the power of Señor Montefalderon to
control them was lessening each instant. They heard the rending of
timber, and the grinding on the coral, even more distinctly than the
captain himself, and feared that the brig would break up while they
lay alongside of her, and crush them amid the ruins. Then the spray
of the seas that broke over the weather side of the brig, fell like
rain upon them; and everybody in the boat was already as wet as if
exposed to a violent shower. It was well, therefore, for Spike that
he descended into the boat as he did, for another minute's delay
might have brought about his own destruction.
Spike felt a chill at his heart when he looked about him and saw the
condition of the yawl. So crowded were the stern-sheets into which
he had descended, that it was with difficulty he found room to place
his feet; it being his intention to steer, Jack was ordered to get
into the eyes of the boat, in order to give him a seat. The thwarts
were crowded, and three or four of the people had placed themselves
in the very bottom of the little craft, in order to be as much as
possible out of the way, as well as in readiness to bail out water.
So seriously, indeed, were all the seamen impressed with the gravity
of this last duty, that nearly every man had taken with him some
vessel fit for such a purpose. Rowing was entirely out of the
question, there being no space for the movement of the arms. The
yawl was too low in the water, moreover, for such an operation in so
heavy a sea. In all, eighteen persons were squeezed into a little
craft that would have been sufficiently loaded, for moderate weather
at sea, with its four oarsmen and as many sitters in the
stern-sheets, with, perhaps, one in the eyes to bring her more on an
even keel. In other words, she had twice the weight in her, in
living freight, that it would have been thought prudent to receive
in so small a craft, in an ordinary time, in or out of a port. In
addition to the human beings enumerated, there was a good deal of
baggage, nearly every individual having had the forethought to
provide a few clothes for a change. The food and water did not
amount to much, no more having been provided than enough for the
purposes of the captain, together with the four men with whom it had
been his intention to abandon the brig. The effect of all this cargo
was to bring the yawl quite low in the water; and every sea-faring
man in her had the greatest apprehensions about her being able to
float at all when she got out from under the lee of the Swash, or
into the troubled water. Try it she must, however, and Spike, in a
reluctant and hesitating manner, gave the final order to "Shove
off!"
The yawl carried a lugg, as is usually the case with boats at sea,
and the first blast of the breeze upon it satisfied Spike that his
present enterprise was one of the most dangerous of any in which he
had ever been engaged. The puffs of wind were quite as much as the
boat would bear; but this he did not mind, as he was running off
before it, and there was little danger of the yawl capsizing with
such a weight in her. It was also an advantage to have swift way on,
to prevent the combing waves from shooting into the boat, though the
wind itself scarce outstrips the send of the sea in a stiff blow. As
the yawl cleared the brig and began to feel the united power of the
wind and waves, the following short dialogue occurred between the
boatswain and Spike.
"I dare not keep my eyes off the breakers ahead," the captain
commenced, "and must trust to you, Strand, to report what is going
on among the man-of-war's men. What is the ship about?"
"Reefing her top-sails just now, sir. All three are on the caps, and
the vessel is laying-to, in a manner."
"And her boats?"
"I see none, sir--ay, ay, there they come from alongside of her in a
little fleet! There are four of them, sir, and all are coming down
before the wind, wing and wing, carrying their luggs reefed."
"Ours ought to be reefed by rights, too, but we dare not stop to do
it; and these infernal combing seas seem ready to glance aboard us
with all the way we can gather. Stand by to bail, men; we must pass
through a strip of white water--there is no help for it. God send
that we go clear of the rocks!"
All this was fearfully true. The adventurers were not yet more than
a cable's length from the brig, and they found themselves so
completely environed with the breakers as to be compelled to go
through them. No man in his senses would ever have come into such a
place at all, except in the most unavoidable circumstances; and it
was with a species of despair that the seamen of the yawl now saw
their little craft go plunging into the foam.
But Spike neglected no precaution that experience or skill could
suggest. He had chosen his spot with coolness and judgment. As the
boat rose on the seas he looked eagerly ahead, and by giving it a
timely sheer, he hit a sort of channel, where there was sufficient
water to carry them clear of the rock, and where the breakers were
less dangerous than in the shoaler places. The passage lasted about
a minute; and so serious was it, that scarce an individual breathed
until it was effected. No human skill could prevent the water from
combing in over the gunwales; and when the danger was passed, the
yawl was a third filled with water. There was no time or place to
pause, but on the little craft was dragged almost gunwale to, the
breeze coming against the lugg in puffs that threatened to take the
mast out of her. All hands were bailing; and even Biddy used her
hands to aid in throwing out the water.
"This is no time to hesitate, men," said Spike, sternly. "Everything
must go overboard but the food and water. Away with them at once,
and with a will."
It was a proof how completely all hands were alarmed by this, the
first experiment in the breakers, that not a man stayed his hand a
single moment, but each threw into the sea, without an instant of
hesitation, every article he had brought with him and had hoped to
save. Biddy parted with the carpet-bag, and Señor Montefalderon,
feeling the importance of example, committed to the deep a small
writing-desk that he had placed on his knees. The doubloons alone
remained, safe in a little locker where Spike had deposited them
along with his own.
"What news astern, boatswain?" demanded the captain, as soon as this
imminent danger was passed, absolutely afraid to turn his eyes off
the dangers ahead for a single instant. "How come on the
man-of-war's men?"
"They are running down in a body toward the wreck, though one of
their boats does seem to be sheering out of the line, as if getting
into our wake. It is hard to say, sir, for they are still a good bit
to windward of the wreck."
"And the Molly, Strand?"
"Why, sir, the Molly seems to be breaking up fast; as well as I can
see, she has broke in two just abaft the forechains, and cannot hold
together in any shape at all many minutes longer."
This information drew a deep groan from Spike, and the eye of every
seaman in the boat was turned in melancholy on the object they were
so fast leaving behind them. The yawl could not be said to be
sailing very rapidly, considering the power of the wind, which was a
little gale, for she was much too deep for that, but she left the
wreck so fast as already to render objects on board her indistinct.
Everybody saw that, like an overburthened steed, she had more to get
along with than she could well bear; and, dependent as seamen
usually are on the judgment and orders of their superiors, even in
the direst emergencies, the least experienced man in her saw that
their chances of final escape from drowning were of the most
doubtful nature. The men looked at each other in a way to express
their feelings; and the moment seemed favourable to Spike to confer
with his confidential sea-dogs in private; but more white water was
also ahead, and it was necessary to pass through it, since no
opening was visible by which to avoid it. He deferred his purpose,
consequently, until this danger was escaped.
On this occasion Spike saw but little opportunity to select a place
to get through the breakers, though the spot, as a whole, was not of
the most dangerous kind. The reader will understand that the
preservation of the boat at all, in white water, was owing to the
circumstance that the rocks all around it lay so near the surface of
the sea as to prevent the possibility of agitating the element very
seriously, and to the fact that she was near the lee side of the
reef. Had the breakers been of the magnitude of those which are seen
where the deep rolling billows of the ocean first meet the weather
side of shoals or rocks, a craft of that size, and so loaded, could
not possibly have passed the first line of white water without
filling. As it was, however, the breakers she had to contend with
were sufficiently formidable, and they brought with them the
certainty that the boat was in imminent danger of striking the
bottom at any moment. Places like those in which Mulford had waded
on the reef, while it was calm, would now have proved fatal to the
strongest frame, since human powers were insufficient long to
withstand the force of such waves as did glance over even these
shallows.
"Look out!" cried Spike, as the boat again plunged in among the
white water. "Keep bailing, men--keep bailing."
The men did bail, and the danger was over almost as soon as
encountered. Something like a cheer burst out of the chest of Spike,
when he saw deeper water around him, and fancied he could now trace
a channel that would carry him quite beyond the extent of the reef.
It was arrested, only half uttered, however, by a communication from
the boatswain, who sat on a midship thwart, his arms folded, and his
eye on the brig and the boats.
"There goes the Molly's masts, sir! Both have gone together; and as
good sticks was they, before them bomb-shells passed through our
rigging, as was ever stepped in a keelson."
The cheer was changed to something like a groan, while a murmur of
regret passed through the boat.
"What news from the man-of-war's men, boatswain? Do they still stand
down on a mere wreck?"
"No, sir; they seem to give it up, and are getting out their oars to
pull back to their ship. A pretty time they'll have of it, too. The
cutter that gets to windward half a mile in an hour, ag'in such a
sea, and such a breeze, must be well pulled and better steered. One
chap, however, sir, seems to hold on."
Spike now ventured to look behind him, commanding an experienced
hand to take the helm. In order to do this he was obliged to change
places with the man he had selected to come aft, which brought him
on a thwart alongside of the boatswain and one or two other of his
confidants. Here a whispered conference took place, which lasted
several minutes, Spike appearing to be giving instructions to the
men.
By this time the yawl was more than a mile from the wreck, all the
man-of-war boats but one had lowered their sails, and were pulling
slowly and with great labour back toward the ship, the cutter that
kept on, evidently laying her course after the yawl, instead of
standing on toward the wreck. The brig was breaking up fast, with
every probability that nothing would be left of her in a few more
minutes. As for the yawl, while clear of the white water, it got
along without receiving many seas aboard, though the men in its
bottom were kept bailing without intermission. It appeared to Spike
that so long as they remained on the reef, and could keep clear of
breakers--a most difficult thing, however--they should fare better
than if in deeper water, where the swell of the sea, and the combing
of the waves, menaced so small and so deep-loaded a craft with
serious danger. As it was, two or three men could barely keep the
boat clear, working incessantly, and much of the time with a foot or
two of water in her.
Josh and Simon had taken their seats, side by side, with that sort
of dependence and submission that causes the American black to
abstain from mingling with the whites more than might appear seemly.
They were squeezed on to one end of the thwart by a couple of robust
old sea-dogs, who were two of the very men with whom Spike had been
in consultation. Beneath that very thwart was stowed another
confidant, to whom communications had also been made. These men had
sailed long in the Swash, and having been picked up in various
ports, from time to time, as the brig had wanted hands, they were of
nearly as many different nations as they were persons. Spike had
obtained a great ascendency over them by habit and authority, and
his suggestions were now received as a sort of law. As soon as the
conference was ended, the captain returned to the helm.
A minute more passed, during which the captain was anxiously
surveying the reef ahead, and the state of things astern. Ahead was
more white water--the last before they should get clear of the reef;
and astern it was now settled that the cutter that held on through
the dangers of the place, was in chase of the yawl. That Mulford was
in her Spike made no doubt; and the thought embittered even his
present calamities. But the moment had arrived for something
decided. The white water ahead was much more formidable than any
they had passed; and the boldest seamen there gazed at it with
dread. Spike made a sign to the boatswain, and commenced the
execution of his dire project.
"I say, you Josh," called out the captain, in the authoritative
tones that are so familiar to all on board a ship, "pull in that
fender that is dragging alongside."
Josh leaned over the gunwale, and reported that there was no fender
out. A malediction followed, also so familiar to those acquainted
with ships, and the black was told to look again. This time, as had
been expected, the negro leaned with his head and body far over the
side of the yawl, to look for that which had no existence, when two
of the men beneath the thwart shoved his legs after them. Josh
screamed, as he found himself going into the water, with a sort of
confused consciousness of the truth; and Spike called out to Simon
to "catch hold of his brother-nigger." The cook bent forward to
obey, when a similar assault on _his_ legs from beneath the thwart,
sent him headlong after Josh. One of the younger seamen, who was not
in the secret, sprang up to rescue Simon, who grasped his extended
hand, when the too generous fellow was pitched headlong from the
boat.
All this occurred in less than ten seconds of time, and so
unexpectedly and naturally, that not a soul beyond those who were in
the secret, had the least suspicion it was anything but an accident.
Some water was shipped, of necessity, but the boat was soon bailed
free. As for the victims of this vile conspiracy, they disappeared
amid the troubled waters of the reef, struggling with each other.
Each and all met the common fate so much the sooner, from the manner
in which they impeded their own efforts.
The yawl was now relieved from about five hundred pounds of the
weight it had carried--Simon weighing two hundred alone, and the
youngish seaman being large and full. So intense does human
selfishness get to be, in moments of great emergency, that it is to
be feared most of those who remained, secretly rejoiced that they
were so far benefited by the loss of their fellows. The Señor
Montefalderon was seated on the aftermost thwart, with his legs in
the stern-sheets, and consequently with his back toward the negroes,
and he fully believed that what had happened was purely accidental.
"Let us lower our sail, Don Esteban," he cried, eagerly, "and save
the poor fellows."
Something very like a sneer gleamed on the dark countenance of the
captain, but it suddenly changed to a look of assent.
"Good!" he said, hastily--"spring forward, Don Wan, and lower the
sail--stand by the oars, men!"
Without pausing to reflect, the generous-hearted Mexican stepped on
a thwart, and began to walk rapidly forward, steadying himself by
placing his hands on the heads of the men. He was suffered to get as
far as the second thwart or past most of the conspirators, when his
legs were seized from behind. The truth now flashed on him, and
grasping two of the men in his front, who knew nothing of Spike's
dire scheme, he endeavoured to save himself by holding to their
jackets. Thus assailed, those men seized others with like intent,
and an awful struggle filled all that part of the craft. At this
dread instant the boat glanced into the white water, shipping so
much of the element as nearly to swamp her, and taking so wild a
sheer as nearly to broach-to. This last circumstance probably saved
her, fearful as was the danger for the moment. Everybody in the
middle of the yawl was rendered desperate by the amount and nature
of the danger incurred, and the men from the bottom rose in their
might, underneath the combatants, when a common plunge was made by
all who stood erect, one dragging overboard another, each a good
deal hastened by the assault from beneath, until no less than five
were gone. Spike got his helm up, the boat fell off, and away from
the spot it flew, clearing the breakers, and reaching the northern
wall-like margin of the reef at the next instant. There was now a
moment when those who remained could breathe, and dared to look
behind them.
The great plunge had been made in water so shoal, that the boat had
barely escaped being dashed to pieces on the coral. Had it not been
so suddenly relieved from the pressure of near a thousand pounds in
weight, it is probable that this calamity would have befallen it,
the water received on board contributing so much to weight it down.
The struggle between these victims ceased, however, the moment they
went over. Finding bottom for their feet, they released each other,
in a desperate hope of prolonging life by wading. Two or three held
out their arms, and shouted to Spike to return and pick them up.
This dreadful scene lasted but a single instant, for the waves
dashed one after another from his feet, continually forcing them
all, as they occasionally regained their footing, toward the margin
of the reef, and finally washing them off it into deep water. No
human power could enable a man to swim back to the rocks, once to
leeward of them, in the face of such seas, and so heavy a blow; and
the miserable wretches disappeared in succession, as their strength
became exhausted, in the depths of the Gulf.
Not a word had been uttered while this terrific scene was in the
course of occurrence; not a word was uttered for some time
afterward. Gleams of grim satisfaction had been seen on the
countenances of the boatswain and his associates, when the success
of their nefarious project was first assured; but they soon
disappeared in looks of horror, as they witnessed the struggles of
the drowning men. Nevertheless, human selfishness was strong within
them all, and none there was so ignorant as not to perceive how much
better were the chances of the yawl now than it had been on quitting
the wreck. The weight of a large ox had been taken from it, counting
that of all the eight men drowned; and as for the water shipped, it
was soon bailed back again into the sea. Not only, therefore, was
the yawl in a better condition to resist the waves, but it sailed
materially faster than it had done before. Ten persons still
remained in it, however, which brought it down in the water below
its proper load-line; and the speed of a craft so small was
necessarily a good deal lessened by the least deviation from its
best sailing, or rowing trim. But Spike's projects were not yet
completed.
All this time the man-of-war's cutter had been rushing as madly
through the breakers, in chase, as the yawl had done in the attempt
to escape. Mulford was, in fact, on board it; and his now fast
friend, Wallace, was in command. The latter wished to seize a
traitor, the former to save the aunt of his weeping bride. Both
believed that they might follow wherever Spike dared to lead. This
reasoning was more bold than judicious notwithstanding, since the
cutter was much larger, and drew twice as much water as the yawl. On
it came, nevertheless, faring much better in the white water than
the little craft it pursued, but necessarily running a much more
considerable risk of hitting the coral, over which it was glancing
almost as swiftly as the waves themselves; still it had thus far
escaped--and little did any in it think of the danger. This cutter
pulled ten oars; was an excellent sea boat; had four armed marines
in it, in addition to its crew, but carried all through the
breakers, receiving scarcely a drop of water on board, on account of
the height of its wash-boards, and the general qualities of the
craft. It may be well to add here, that the Poughkeepsie had shaken
out her reefs, and was betraying the impatience of Captain Mull to
make sail in chase, by firing signal-guns to his boats to bear a
hand and return. These signals the three boats under their oars were
endeavouring to obey, but Wallace had got so far to leeward as now
to render the course he was pursuing the wisest.
Mrs. Budd and Biddy had seen the struggle in which the Señor
Montefalderon had been lost, in a sort of stupid horror. Both had
screamed, as was their wont, though neither probably suspected the
truth. But the fell designs of Spike extended to them, as well as to
those whom he had already destroyed. Now the boat was in deep water,
running along the margin of the reef, the waves were much increased
in magnitude, and the comb of the sea was far more menacing to the
boat. This would not have been the case had the rocks formed a lee;
but they did not, running too near the direction of the trades to
prevent the billows that got up a mile or so in the offing, from
sending their swell quite home to the reef. It was this swell,
indeed, which caused the line of white water along the northern
margin of the coral, washing on the rocks by a sort of lateral
effort, and breaking, as a matter of course. In many places, no boat
could have lived to pass through it.
Another consideration influenced Spike to persevere. The cutter had
been overhauling him, hand over hand, but since the yawl was
relieved of the weight of no less than eight men, the difference in
the rate of sailing was manifestly diminished. The man-of-war's boat
drew nearer, but by no means as fast as it had previously done. A
point was now reached in the trim of the yawl, when a very few
hundreds in weight might make the most important change in her
favour; and this change the captain was determined to produce. By
this time the cutter was in deep water, as well as himself, safe
through all the dangers of the reef, and she was less than a quarter
of a mile astern. On the whole, she was gaining, though so slowly as
to require the most experienced eye to ascertain the fact.
"Madame Budd," said Spike, in a hypocritical tone, "we are in great
danger, and I shall have to ask you to change your seat. The boat is
too much by the starn, now we've got into deep water, and your
weight amidships would be a great relief to us. Just give your hand
to the boatswain, and he will help you to step from thwart to
thwart, until you reach the right place, when Biddy shall follow."
Now Mrs. Budd had witnessed the tremendous struggle in which so many
had gone overboard, but so dull was she of apprehension, and so
little disposed to suspect anything one-half so monstrous as the
truth, that she did not hesitate to comply. She was profoundly awed
by the horrors of the scene through which she was passing, the
raging billows of the Gulf, as seen from so small a craft, producing
a deep impression on her; still a lingering of her most inveterate
affectation was to be found in her air and language, which presented
a strange medley of besetting weakness, and strong, natural, womanly
affection.
"Certainly, Captain Spike," she answered, rising. "A craft should
never go astern, and I am quite willing to ballast the boat. We have
seen such terrible accidents today, that all should lend their aid
in endeavouring to get under way, and in averting all possible
hamper. Only take me to my poor, dear Rosy, Captain Spike, and
everything shall be forgotten that has passed between us. This is
not a moment to bear malice; and I freely pardon you all and
everything. The fate of our unfortunate friend, Mr. Montefalderon,
should teach us charity, and cause us to prepare for untimely ends."
All the time the good widow was making this speech, which she
uttered in a solemn and oracular sort of manner, she was moving
slowly toward the seat the men had prepared for her, in the middle
of the boat, assisted with the greatest care and attention by the
boatswain and another of Spike's confidants. When on the second
thwart from aft, and about to take her seat, the boatswain cast a
look behind him, and Spike put the helm down. The boat luffed and
lurched, of course, and Mrs. Budd would probably have gone overboard
to leeward, by so sudden and violent a change, had not the impetus
thus received been aided by the arms of the men who held her two
hands. The plunge she made into the water was deep, for she was a
woman of great weight for her stature. Still, she was not
immediately gotten rid of. Even at that dread instant, it is
probable that the miserable woman did not suspect the truth, for she
grasped the hand of the boatswain with the tenacity of a vice, and,
thus dragged on the surface of the boiling surges, she screamed
aloud for Spike to save her. Of all who had yet been sacrificed to
the captain's selfish wish to save himself, this was the first
instance in which any had been heard to utter a sound, after falling
into the sea. The appeal shocked even the rude beings around her,
and Biddy chiming in with a powerful appeal to "save the missus!"
added to the piteous nature of the scene.
"Cast off her hand," said Spike reproachfully, "she'll swamp the
boat by her struggles--get rid of her at once! Cut her fingers off,
if she wont let go!"
The instant these brutal orders were given, and that in a fierce,
impatient tone, the voice of Biddy was heard no more. The truth
forced itself on her dull imagination, and she sat a witness of the
terrible scene, in mute despair. The struggle did not last long. The
boatswain drew his knife across the wrist of the hand that grasped
his own, one shriek was heard, and the boat plunged into the trough
of a sea, leaving the form of poor Mrs. Budd struggling with the
wave on its summit, and amid the foam of its crest. This was the
last that was ever seen of the unfortunate relict.
"The boat has gained a good deal by that last discharge of cargo,"
said Spike to the boatswain, a minute after they had gotten rid of
the struggling woman--"she is much more lively, and is getting
nearer to her load-line. If we can bring her to _that,_ I shall have
no fear of the man-of-war's men; for this yawl is one of the fastest
boats that ever floated."
"A very little _now,_ sir, would bring us to our true trim."
"Ay, we must get rid of more cargo. Come, good woman," turning to
Biddy, with whom he did not think it worth his while to use much
circumlocution, "_your_ turn is next. It's the maid's duty to follow
her mistress."
"I know'd it _must_ come," said Biddy, meekly. "If there was no
mercy for the missus, little could I look for. But ye'll not take
the life of a Christian woman widout giving her so much as one
minute to say her prayers?"
"Ay, pray away," answered Spike, his throat becoming dry and husky,
for, strange to say, the submissive quiet of the Irish woman, so
different from the struggle he had anticipated with _her,_ rendered
him more reluctant to proceed than he had hitherto been in all of
that terrible day. As Biddy kneeled in the bottom of the
stern-sheets, Spike looked behind him, for the double purpose of
escaping the painful spectacle at his feet, and that of ascertaining
how his pursuers came on. The last still gained, though very slowly,
and doubts began to come over the captain's mind whether he could
escape such enemies at all. He was too deeply committed, however, to
recede, and it was most desirable to get rid of poor Biddy, if it
were for no other motive than to shut her mouth. Spike even fancied
that some idea of what had passed was entertained by those in the
cutter. There was evidently a stir in that boat, and two forms that
he had no difficulty, now, in recognizing as those of Wallace and
Mulford, were standing on the grating in the eyes of the cutter, or
forward of the foresail. The former appeared to have a musket in his
hand, and the other a glass. The last circumstance admonished him
that all that was now done would be done before dangerous witnesses.
It was too late to draw back, however, and the captain turned to
look for the Irish woman.
Biddy arose from her knees, just as Spike withdrew his eyes from his
pursuers. The boatswain and another confidant were in readiness to
cast the poor creature into the sea, the moment their leader gave
the signal. The intended victim saw and understood the arrangement,
and she spoke earnestly and piteously to her murderers.
"It's not wanting will be violence!" said Biddy, in a quiet tone,
but with a saddened countenance. "I know it's my turn, and I will
save yer sowls from a part of the burden of this great sin. God, and
His Divine Son, and the Blessed Mother of Jesus have mercy on me if
it be wrong; but I would far radder jump into the saa widout having
the rude hands of man on me, than have the dreadful sight of the
missus done over ag'in. It's a fearful thing is wather, and
sometimes we have too little of it, and sometimes more than we
want--"
"Bear a hand, bear a hand, good woman," interrupted the boatswain,
impatiently. "We must clear the boat of you, and the sooner it is
done the better it will be for all of us."
"Don't grudge a poor morthal half a minute of life, at the last
moment," answered Biddy. "It's not long that I'll throuble ye, and
so no more need be said."
The poor creature then got on the quarter of the boat, without any
one's touching her; there she placed herself with her legs outboard,
while she sat on the gunwale. She gave one moment to the thought of
arranging her clothes with womanly decency, and then she paused to
gaze with a fixed eye, and pallid cheek, on the foaming wake that
marked the rapid course of the boat. The troughs of the sea seemed
less terrible to her than their combing crests, and she waited for
the boat to descend into the next.
"God forgive ye all, this deed, as I do!" said Biddy, earnestly, and
bending her person forward, she fell, as it might be "without
hands," into the gulf of eternity. Though all strained their eyes,
none of the men, Jack Tier excepted, ever saw more of Biddy Noon.
Nor did Jack see much. He got a frightful glimpse of an arm,
however, on the summit of a wave, but the motion of the boat was too
swift, and the water of the ocean too troubled, to admit of aught
else.
A long pause succeeded this event. Biddy's quiet submission to her
fate had produced more impression on her murderers than the
desperate, but unavailing, struggles of those who had preceded her.
Thus it is ever with men. When opposed, the demon within blinds them
to consequences as well as to their duties; but, unresisted, the
silent influence of the image of God makes itself felt, and a better
spirit begins to prevail. There was not one in that boat who did
not, for a brief space, wish that poor Biddy had been spared. With
most, that feeling, the last of human kindness they ever knew,
lingered until the occurrence of the dread catastrophe which, so
shortly after, closed the scene of this state of being on their
eyes.
"Jack Tier," called out Spike, some five minutes after Biddy was
drowned, but not until another observation had made it plainly
apparent to him that the man-of-war's men still continued to draw
nearer, being now not more than fair musket-shot astern.
"Ay, ay, sir," answered Jack, coming quietly out of his hole, from
forward of the mast, and moving aft as if indifferent to the danger,
by stepping lightly from thwart to thwart, until he reached the
stern-sheets.
"It is your turn, little Jack," said Spike, as if in a sort of
sorrowful submission to a necessity that knew no law, "we cannot
spare you the room."
"I have expected this, and am ready. Let me have my own way, and I
will cause you no trouble. Poor Biddy has taught me how to die.
Before I go, however, Stephen Spike, I must leave you this letter.
It is written by myself, and addressed to you. When I am gone, read
it, and think well of what it contains. And now, may a merciful God
pardon the sins of both, through love for His Divine Son. I forgive
you, Stephen; and should you live to escape from those who are now
bent on hunting you to the death, let this day cause you no grief on
my account. Give me but a moment of time, and I will cause you no
trouble."
Jack now stood upon the seat of the stern-sheets, balancing himself
with one foot on the stern of the boat. He waited until the yawl had
risen to the summit of a wave, when he looked eagerly for the
man-of-war's cutter. At that moment she was lost to view in the
trough of the sea. Instead of springing overboard, as all expected,
he asked another instant of delay. The yawl sank into the trough
itself, and rose on the succeeding billow. Then he saw the cutter,
and Wallace and Mulford standing in its bows. He waved his hat to
them, and sprang high into the air, with the intent to make himself
seen; when he came down the boat had shot her length away from the
place, leaving him to buffet with the waves. Jack now managed
admirably, swimming lightly and easily, but keeping his eyes on the
crests of the waves, with a view to meet the cutter. Spike now saw
this well-planned project to avoid death, and regretted his own
remissness in not making sure of Jack. Everybody in the yawl was
eagerly looking after the form of Tier.
"There he is on the comb of that sea, rolling over like a keg!"
cried the boatswain.
"He 's through it," answered Spike, "and swimming with great
strength and coolness."
Several of the men started up involuntarily and simultaneously to
look, hitting their shoulders and bodies together. Distrust was at
its most painful height; and bull-dogs do not spring at the ox's
muzzle more fiercely than those six men throttled each other. Oaths,
curses, and appeals for help, succeeded; each man endeavouring, in
his frenzied efforts, to throw all the others overboard, as the only
means of saving himself. Plunge succeeded plunge; and when that
combat of demons ended, no one remained of them all but the
boatswain. Spike had taken no share in the struggle, looking on in
grim satisfaction, as the Father of Lies may be supposed to regard
all human strife, hoping good to himself, let the result be what it
might to others. Of the five men who thus went overboard, not one
escaped. They drowned each other by continuing their maddened
conflict in an element unsuited to their natures.
Not so with Jack Tier. His leap had been seen, and a dozen eyes in
the cutter watched for his person, as that boat came foaming down
before the wind. A shout of "There he is!" from Mulford succeeded;
and the little fellow was caught by the hair, secured, and then
hauled into the boat by the second lieutenant of the Poughkeepsie
and our young mate.
Others in the cutter had noted the incident of the hellish fight.
The fact was communicated to Wallace, and Mulford said, "That yawl
will outsail this loaded cutter, with only two men in it."
"Then it is time to try what virtue there is in lead," answered
Wallace. "Marines, come forward, and give the rascal a volley."
The volley was fired; one ball passed through the head of the
boatswain, killing him dead on the spot. Another went through the
body of Spike. The captain fell in the stern-sheets, and the boat
instantly broached-to.
The water that came on board apprised Spike fully of the state in
which he was now placed, and by a desperate effort, he clutched the
tiller, and got the yawl again before the wind. This could not last,
however. Little by little, his hold relaxed, until his hand
relinquished its grasp altogether, and the wounded man sank into the
bottom of the stern-sheets, unable to raise even his head. Again the
boat broached-to. Every sea now sent its water aboard, and the yawl
would soon have filled, had not the cutter come glancing down past
it, and rounding-to under its lee, secured the prize.