I stepped into my room and brought forth my own, handing Chips some cartridges for his.
"I think the men will stand to us in the matter, Trunnell," I said.
The little mate looked sorrowfully at us both, and shook his great head slowly.
"'Tain't no use o' makin' a fuss," he said at last. "Discipline is discipline, an' you knows it. If the captain wants them fellows aboard, aboard they comes, and no one here kin stop them. There's only one captain to a ship. When his orders don't go, there's blood an' mutiny an' piracy an' death aboard. Put up your guns. Don't let's say no more about it till we raise them, for maybe they're gone under by this time. We won't reach the wreck anyways afore night."
It happened as he said. When we went on deck, the Pirate had swung her yards and was standing along in the direction we had come. Thompson, or rather Jackwell, walked fore and aft on the weather side of the poop, and gazed at each turn at the horizon ahead. A lookout was posted in the foretop, while the rest of the men lounged about the decks and discussed the situation and the tragedy of the day before.
Chips was for open mutiny, and Johnson backed him. All our men were in sympathy with us, and some were so outspoken that they could be counted on if a fresh fracas occurred. The majority, however, were so well under control that they appeared to be satisfied to obey orders under any conditions. The Englishmen were neutral. All except Jenks were silent or advised the recognition of the established authority, telling how we could square matters afterward with our enemies.
This shows how a sailor is at the mercy of any one who has been established in authority. If he resists in any manner, he is mutinous and is liable to the severest penalties. Here we were with every prospect of having Andrews and our third mate on board again, to go through some other horror, unless we turned pirates and took the ship. This was a risky thing to attempt, for if successful and there was any bloodshed, we would certainly either swing or pass under a heavy sentence. That is, of course, if we failed to prove that Thompson was the rascal Jim had told us he was. On the other hand, if we failed, there was the absolute certainty of being at the mercy of the rascal's cruelty, unless Trunnell would be able to control them all.
The little mate was a strange character. He believed in obeying orders under any conditions whatever, unless absolute proof could be had that the one who gave the orders was unauthorized to do so. In spite of his friendship for me, I knew full well that he would die rather than disobey the captain, no matter what the order was, provided he considered it a legitimate one. The fact that the men had committed horrible crimes did not in any manner disinherit them from the ship in his opinion. They should be dealt with afterward according to the law.
I took no part in an argument. Neither did Trunnell or the skipper. They both seemed satisfied of their position and took no pains to talk to the men as if they suspected a rising. I stood in the waist and remained looking steadily at the horizon until the sun dipped, and there was every prospect that night would come before we raised the black mast of the wreck. My pistol was in my pocket ready for instant use, and I saw by the bunch under Chips' coat that he was also ready. His small black mustache was worked into points under the pressure of his nervous fingers, and he sat on the hatch-combings apart from all save Johnson. The sailor walked athwartships before him on the deck as if to get the stiffness out of his little legs, which seemed now thinner than ever, as the setting sun shone between them through the curious gap.
The upper limb of the red sun was just touching the line of water when the man in the foretop hailed the deck.
"Wreck on weather bow, sir!" he bawled.
My heart gave a great jump and I looked at Chips. Johnson made a movement with his hand as if holding a knife and went to the weather rail and looked over.
"Weather maintopsail brace!" came the call from Trunnell. The men came tumbling aft and took their places.
"Lee braces, Mr. Rolling," he called again, and I crossed the deck, knowing that he would jam her as high as he could to make as far to windward as possible before darkness set in.
We braced her sharper, and she pointed a bit higher, but she could not quite head up to the black stick that showed above the horizon. The wind, however, was steady, and under her royals the Pirate was about the fastest and prettiest ship afloat. She heeled gently to the breeze and went through it to the tune of seven knots, rolling the heft of the long sea away from her clipper bows and tossing off the foam without a jar or tremble. I looked hard at the distant speck which was now just visible from the deck, and wondered how Andrews and his crew felt. I could see nothing of the _Sovereign's_ hull, and hope rose within me. I found myself saying over and over again to myself, "She's gone under, she's gone under." Then just before it grew too dark to see any longer I went aft and took up the glass. Through it the black forecastle of the wreck showed above the sea.
XIX
It was quite dark before the Pirate had come up with the wreck. The skipper and Trunnell had gone below to their supper, and I had charge of the deck, with orders to heave the ship into the wind when we came abreast, and sing out for the mate to man the boat.
We were barely able to make within half a mile dead to leeward, but when we did, I backed the main yards and clewed up the courses, taking in the royals to keep from drifting off too fast in the gloom.
Trunnell came on deck and gave orders to get out the boat. She was soon at the channels, jumping and thrashing in the sea, for the breeze was now quite strong. The mate jumped into her with four men, and Thompson went to the break of the poop and told me I could go below to supper. Chips and the steward came aft, also, and we made out to eat a square meal in silence, each making a sign to his neighbor toward the back of his belt.
While we ate, listening for the sound of oars that would tell of the return of the boat, we could hear snatches of the sad talk of the two women in the after-cabin, through the bulkhead. This did not tend to raise our spirits, and we hurried through to be on deck when Trunnell returned.
Scarcely had we gained the main deck when we heard the regular sound of the oars and oar-locks. Soon the dim shadow of the boat was seen heading toward us, outlined against the light in the eastern sky where the moon was rising.
We took our places at the waist and awaited developments. Jackwell stood directly above me, and I could see his face with its glinting eyes turned toward me. His mustache was waxed into sharp points and curved upward, while his protruding chin and beak-like nose appeared to draw even nearer together. He was evidently quite well satisfied that he would be able to take care of his passengers, for he said nothing to me to indicate that he was disturbed by my proximity to the gangway.
I had decided to shoot Andrews the moment he came over the side, without a word. This much I had confided to Chips and Johnson. They would stand by me if there was a general attack, and we would make the best terms possible afterward.
The boat drew close aboard, and I could see the backs of the rowers swing fore and aft to the stroke. Then she shot alongside and was fast to the mizzen channels, and I stepped back ready for action. Jackwell noticed my move and drew his pistol. I drew mine, and glancing around I saw that the carpenter and Johnson were standing near, with their weapons at hand, and half a dozen sailors with them. I would not be alone.
A form sprang over the side, and I raised my weapon almost before I knew it. Then I recognized Trunnell.
"You can disarm that young fool, Trunnell," said Jackwell, putting away his gun. "It's lucky for him you've come back without any one, or I'd have shot him in half a second more."