Thoughts kindred to mine must have been running through Murad's mind, for he consented to Mr. Bludsoe's proposal.
"But I warn you against entering the forecastle!" he said, "Better talk to them at a distance. Keep them well covered with your pistols. They've found weapons!"
The mate went forward. I had conceived a strong admiration for him, and, on an impulse I followed his shadowy figure as it crept along the starboard side, past the galley, towards the forecastle hatchway. Ross and Burke, not to be outdone, strung along behind us.
Mr. Bludsoe had reached the forecastle hatch without meeting a person. I expected to hear him yell his message down the hatchway, which was open, but instead I saw his black figure leap into the yellow glare that came up from the forecastle lantern. He had leaped down into the room.
I crept up to the scuttle, and leaned down the hatchway, cutlass in hand. I was determined to fight in the mate's defence if necessary, though I knew that my cutlass, with only a youth's arm behind it, was a poor weapon against desperate men, even if they were only armed with dirks.
The men had been standing in the center of the forecastle, and seemed to have been on the verge of rushing forth to attack us. Reynold's desertion had not been noted by them, and they had evidently thought that the person leaping into the room was their sentinel. The mate's spring, therefore, took them by surprise. They glanced uncertainly up the ladder, saw the flash of my cutlass, and thought that our entire force was back of Mr. Bludsoe. It was a reasonable conclusion, for who would have dreamed that the mate would have done so bold a thing.
Knives flashed. "Here's one of them," Steve cried, "thought he'd starved the strength out of us, I reckon. We'll show him!"
Bludsoe put his back against the ladder and leveled his pistols at the most menacing mutineers.
"Men," he said, "I can kill four of you before you down me. There are others waiting to take care of the rest. Listen—I haven't come down here to shoot—I'm trying to end this row and save you from the gallows. Some of you have never been in trouble before. Some of you are married men. It's no use trying to budge the skipper. You won't get a bite to eat until you start to work. If you hold out another twelve hours the chances are some frigate will see our signals and take you to where you'll get short shrift. Come now, throw down your knives and——"
A heavy boot, viciously aimed, knocked me aside. Its owner jumped across my body and leapt towards the scuttle.