I AM SHOT OUT OF ONE SHIP AND CRAWL INTO ANOTHER, WITH WHAT ADVANTAGE MAY YET BE SEEN.
My first feeling on recovering consciousness was of a great weight oppressing me, and this I presently found was due to two dead men lying athwart me, where they had fallen in their last agony. Using all my strength, it was as much as I could do to thrust him off—one fellow lying across my breast with his shoulder against my throat, and the other again across my middle, his arms thrown out upon the first.
The cause of my weakness was not that blow that had felled me, but the loss of blood from two wounds—one in my thigh and the other in the thick of my arm—which I had received without any knowledge on my part, and now for the first time discovered by my clothes being glued to those parts and a great smarting when I struggled to free myself from the weight of the dead bodies.
Being once more able to breathe freely, I lay back on the deck exhausted and faint with the effort, and slowly brought back to my mind what had happened. The silence on board, save for the sound of reveling from the black ship alongside, told me that the battle was over; and it needed but little to convince me how the fight had ended; but, thinking of my dear Lady Biddy, I presently set my hands, all stiff and sticky with blood, on the deck, and raised myself up, looking towards the coach. Then it was I saw Rodrigues and heard him order his men to cast all us poor fellows, whom he termed carrion, overboard, without regard to our being dead or living. Then, once more, a weariness as of death coming over me, I fell again on my back, with a giddiness in my head and despair at heart, which robbed me of all vigor, while the stench of spilled blood made my bowels heave with sickness. The pirates, coming now to clear the deck, took up one poor corpse, lifted him on to the bulwarks, and so bundled him over; and in this wise three or four more, when, seeing the labor before them, one fetched from below the wooden gangway wherewith they slide merchandise from a wharf down into a ship, which they now thrust through one of the upper deck gun-ports, making it fast with cords. This way, with less trouble and much quicker, they shot the "carrion" into the water, taking no heed if some poor wretch but slightly wounded did cry for pity and mercy, except by inhuman laughter and fiendish jests.
Two or three rascals came and carried off the corpses I had thrust from me, and then I knew my turn was come, and naught could save me, for I had no strength to help myself. And back came those two (who were new hands and so did not recognize me), and one kicking me over on my face, the other took up my legs by the knees, while the first laid hold of me by the shoulders, and so they bore me, like so much butcher's flesh to the cutting board, and flung me on to the slanting gangway. By this time the slope was all slippery with gore of blood, so that no sooner was I cast on than I slid down like a stone, and shot thence deep into the sea below.
Now, whether I owed it to the cold, invigorating virtue of the refreshing sea, the smarting anew of my wounds in the salt thereof, or the instinct which possesses nearly every creature to make one final struggle for existence in the presence of death, I can not say; only this I know, that no sooner had the waters closed over my head than energy returned to my spirit and strength to my limbs, and striking out manfully with my arms and legs, I shortly came to the surface of the water, not more than a couple of fathoms from the stern of the Faithful Friend.
But here was no hold at all, nor could I see that I was much better off than if I had never risen from the deep, till, casting my eyes about, I spied a rope hanging over the stern of the black ship and trailing in the sea, which rope was part of her rigging (for she also had suffered in the gale, to say nothing of our shot). To this I swam, and being still full of new-born vigor, I drew on it till it became taut, and I could keep my head above water with no exertion at all.
Here I rested a bit, all the while searching how I might better my condition, and perceiving that my rope passed over the lower stern gallery, I presently got the rope between my knees, and by passing one hand over the other made a shift to pull myself up, though not without difficulty, for as I drew myself out of the water I began to turn round and round on the strained rope like a joint of meat at the end of a string. However, this was but a trifle of trouble, and hand over hand I climbed up till at length I reached the gallery, where I took another rest, and returned thanks to God with as grateful a heart as I could find.
This gallery, I take it, opened into the steward's room, for through the ports I heard the clinking of mugs and the voices of men within, and seeing that at any moment some fellow might look out and spy me, I felt it would not do to linger there; so I went again to my rope, which hung conveniently on one side of the ports, and pulled myself up to the gallery above, which is what is called the captain's parade, that balcony against the chief cabins where the officers alone are privileged to walk. Here, as luck would have it, the wreck of a sail hanging down from the deck above formed a kind of screen, where I might rest for the present secure from observation. With a glad heart I crawled under this refuge, and, sitting down to fetch my breath, I thought it not amiss to look to my wounds. On the crown of my head was a lump as big as a fair egg, and the scalp cut, but no longer bleeding; in my thigh was a pike wound about three inches long, but not deep. By tearing off the foot of my stocking and so drawing the other part high, I managed to make a very fair dressing for this wound. The other, which was, as I say, in the fleshy part of my arm, gave me little anxiety, for, though it still bled pretty freely, I could get at it easily, and, binding it round with my neckerchief, I felt no further concern about it, but only satisfaction to find that my case was no worse.
Scarcely had I come to this conclusion when I heard the trampling of feet on the deck above, and the sound of voices, with one in a higher tone giving orders. And the first thing these men did was to haul upon the sail which screened me.
"I am a lost man if I stay here longer," thinks I; so slipping along still under the sail I came to the little door opening on to the gallery. By happy chance this was not fastened, save by a latch, and seeing, as I peered through the lattice window, that no one was on the other side, I slipped through, and found myself in a prodigious fine cabin; for this Rodrigues was no common, sluttish jack-sailor, but a man who, when he could afford it, lived like any prince, indulging himself in every extravagant luxury that a voluptuous taste can conceive. Here was a thick carpet on the floor, and all round the sides ran a sofett, furnished with cushions in the Moors' style, with fine paintings and mirrors above, and a lantern of colored glass like gems hanging from the ceiling, which was painted as pretty as could be with devices of flowers and cherubs. To the windows were silk curtains of a rose color; but to speak of all these appointments have I no time; only will I say this, that never anywhere else have I seen such expense wasted as in the cabin of this scoundrel pirate. Nor had I time or inclination then to take note of all this bravery, being only concerned to find me some hole where I might hide for safety. And now came a bustle on the outside of the cabin, so that I felt I had but come out of the frying-pan into the fire, and which way to turn I knew not. I could not go into the body of the ship for the men there, nor back into the gallery neither for the men above; yet to stay where I stood would be as bad as either.
In this pickle I halted till spying an opening on one side between the sofetts, I pushed the gilded panel to see if, perchance, this were some fantastic kind of door; and, sure enough, it was, giving way readily to my hand, and closing behind me softly with spring-work. And there I found myself in a cabin smaller than the other, but still mighty fine, and fitted up as a bed-chamber, with a good cot fixed on one side, hung with saffron taffety. Other door to this chamber was there none; nor could I see any place of safety but under the cot, whither therefore I did creep—recommending myself to Providence—without further ado, and not a whit too soon neither, for scarcely had I got my long legs well out of sight when the door opened and a boy came in, as I could see by his little bare feet peeping under the valance.
Putting my eye close to the ground, I saw him go to a polished chest on the other side and fetch from one drawer a clean shirt and a pair of stockings; then from another slop shoes, a pair of trunks, and the like; till, having set out all that was necessary, he gathered them up in his arms and carried them away, from which I opined that Rodrigues had yet another cabin where he was about to change his bloody and besmirched clothes for these other. Nor was I far out in this surmise, for in some ten minutes or so, the door was flung open, and I caught sight of those same slop-shoes and clean stockings for a moment as he stood by the side of the cot thrusting back the curtains before he threw himself down to rest. As his deep breathing proclaimed that he had fallen asleep, I was for a while sorely tempted to creep out from my hiding-place and cut the villain's throat as he lay there; nay, so well could I make out where he lay over my head that, putting the point of my jack-knife against the sacking, I felt sure that I could, with one forcible thrust, drive it up into his black heart. Yet I could not do this either way; for, first, my sentiment revolted against taking the life of a defenseless man, as against murder—despite his cruel treatment of the helpless wounded and myself—and then my reason forbade me to attempt such a desperate measure, for if Rodrigues died there yet remained forty or fifty desperate villains to overcome, and how was one wounded man by any possibility to accomplish that feat? To fail in such an attempt would be to provoke the enemy to such a fury of revenge that he would massacre every one of those whose release had been attempted. I say massacre, but a yet worse fate might be reserved for Lady Biddy, whose dear sake now did most concern me. With this reflection I gently shut up my jack-knife, and slipped it back into my pocket for better employment.