Story 2--Chapter XVII.
Now you might have thought that, under all circumstances, these four passengers would have been as thick as possible together; but no; Mr Bell seemed to have an idea of what Mr Ward’s feelings were, and though polite and pleasant, that was all; and though Miss Bell never showed a sign of giving him a friendly look, I couldn’t help thinking that she did not quite dislike the young doctor.
That evening we had an ambassador from the fore-cabin in the shape of the fat passenger, who brought a message to say that they wanted water below. We let him come up after they had knocked at the hatch for some time, but all we could do was to pass him on with the message to Van, who swore out something, but would give no farther answer; while as to going back, the messenger would not think of that. And our force was strengthened, so Mr Ward said, but I only thought of the meat tins and biscuit.
Night again, and we set our watch, wondering whether we should get through it alive, for it was like living over one of those volcanoes, I thought. There might be an explosion at any time; and though I didn’t make any show of my trouble, I was a good deal worried; and as for them as had been wounded, they seemed suffering as much as me.
Mr Ward had the first watch, with Bill Smith and Mr Tomtit; and when he woke me up, it was from a pleasant dream of home. But he reported all right; and with Sam Brown and Mr Bell for my mates, we began the second watch.
I said Mr Bell, but really it was his sister, for the poor chap seemed to me to be sinking, though, with the bravest of hearts, he fought against all of it, and held up to the last.
I’d been talking cheerfully to Miss Bell about there being safe to be a vessel cross our course next day, when suddenly she seized my hand, held it tightly, and pointed to something rising slowly up from the cabin skylight. Sam Brown must have seen it at the same moment, for he left the wheel, and the vessel fell off before the wind.
“What’s that?” whispered Miss Bell; and do you think I could speak? Not a word; for there, slowly making itself known, was an enemy which I had never counted upon seeing, and I couldn’t help giving a groan, as I felt that now we should be beaten indeed.
Accident, or done on purpose, I could not tell, but the ship was on fire, and the smoke in a steady column rolling slowly up, while I had hardly roused up the sleeping men, before, with a shout, Van, closely followed by Brassey and the other two, came over the poop on to the deck.
Fighting seemed no good, after what was taking place before us;—our enmity seeming quite small now before this trouble,—and besides, what was the use of having a struggle for what would probably be burned to the water’s edge in the course of an hour or two; so giving way, we slowly backed up under the bulwarks, leaving the mutineers free to act as they pleased.