“Into the boat with you, sir,” ordered the captain decisively. “Not a moment to lose.”
But Wagram’s answer was to make a dart for the companion-way. He disappeared within it.
“Shove off!” cried the captain. “I’m not going to sacrifice a lot of lives for that of one splendid fool. Shove off!”
“Ay, ay, sir.” And at the words, with sudden and cat-like rapidity, two of the boat’s crew sprang upon the captain, who was standing at the rail, and in a trice he was tumbled into the boat, and still securely held while quick, long pulling strokes increased her distance from the sinking ship.
“No, you don’t, sir,” said the men, restraining with difficulty their commander’s furious struggles. “The old hooker can go down without you for once. Get back to her? No, you don’t. For shame, sir. You’ve got a missis and kiddies waiting at Southampton, remember.”
The captain fumed and swore, and called them every kind of damned mutineer, and worse—in fact, a great deal worse—so much worse that they had to remind him respectfully that the boats containing the women and children must be within easy earshot. Why should he go down with his ship, they pointed out to him, instead of remaining above water to command another? Not the last man to leave her did he say? Well, that couldn’t be helped—if a passenger were such a lunatic as to go below just as she was taking her last plunge.
There was no bombast about Captain Lawes’ intention. While there was a man on board he would not have left her, and in this case he would not have, even though that man, being a passenger, had ignored his authority. But his crew had taken the matter into their own hands.
The steamy sea murk was thickening, and came rolling in from seaward in damp, hot miasmatic puffs. But the settling hull of the Baleka was still discernible with tolerable plainness. To her many a hail was sent but—front her, to their straining ears, none was returned.
“I think, sir,” said young Ransome, the fourth officer, slyly, “that I didn’t quite deserve all you—well, all I got for saying that infernal Red Derelict was unlucky to sight.”
“You damned, impudent, mutinous young dog!” growled the exasperated and captive skipper. “Shut your blasted head. As it is, I’ll log you for mutiny and insubordination and general incompetence. I’ll bust you, out of this service at any rate. See if I don’t, my man.”