The outcry brought the doctor, Mr Wilson, and John Studwick on deck the latter panting, and evidently in a terrible state of alarm.
“Quick, father, the boat, save Bessy, don’t mind me,” he gasped.
“There’s nothing to fear, my boy,” exclaimed the captain, catching the young man’s arm. “Only the men have gone ashore—forsaken the ship. Now go below. Here, you Oakum, what do you mean, you scoundrel? Where’s Mr Jones?”
“Here, sir,” said the mate, who had hurried from his berth. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” exclaimed the captain, stamping about the deck in his rage. “Why, the men have forsaken the ship. What were you about?”
“I beg pardon, Captain Studwick,” said the mate, sharply; “but it was my watch below. You said you would see to the first watch with Oakum.”
“So I did, so I did,” cried the captain. “Here, Oakum.”
“You said I could go below, Capen,” said Oakum, gruffly.
“Did you know anything of this?”
“If I’d know’d anything of it, I should have come and told you,” growled Oakum. “Didn’t I give the alarm as soon as I know’d?”