Story 2--Chapter X.
Two boats were lowered down, and my two mates and me and the four sailors was to man ’em. They let down Captain Harness, wounded and half mad as he was, into one boat, and Mr Wallace the mate into the other; and then a couple of compasses, and some breakers of water, a bag or two of biscuit, and a tub of butter were shoved in. Then came the job of getting the passengers over the side. The men were ordered up first, and, some wounded, some savage, some weak and disheartened, they were made to take their places, six of the mutineers keeping guard with cocked pistols and drawn cutlashes. I believe, though, in spite of their weapons, that a little English pluck was all that was needed to save the ship; but no attempt was made, and, trembling and frightened, the women and children were ordered up, and then the boats were loaded.
“Now, then, down with you, and shove off,” says Van Haigh, showing his cursed white teeth, and pricking at poor Sam Brown with his cutlash, just out of malice like. And you should have seen Sam’s eyes that time! He never spoke, but it’s my opinion if he’d had the chance, he’d have shaken Van’s precious body until the silver rings he was so proud of had dropped out of his yellow ears. But, as I said before, Sam didn’t speak; he only lays hold of the side rope, and lowers himself into the boat, already too full; Bill Smith dropping into the other, in spite of his wound.
“Now you!” roars Van to me, for I was standing hesitating, and I don’t mind saying that a cold chill ran all through me, for just then I heard the click of his pistol cock, and I knew he was taking aim at my head. But I mastered myself, and wouldn’t turn round; for it was an important time, and there was much to think about. There was poor Mr Ward, with his head bound up, held by two of the mutineers; and poor Tomtit, with his knees to his chin as he sat upon the deck; and of course they weren’t going, for the boats wouldn’t hold any more. And there was the fat passenger, as cried when we left home; and last of all, Miss Bell and her brother below.
It didn’t take me long to make up my mind, for it seemed to me as it would never do for me and my mates to go and leave them in their trouble, for maybe they’d be sent afloat in a little boat next, and wouldn’t know how to work her; so, half-expecting every moment to drop with a bullet through me, I says: “I’m blest, my lads, if I ain’t had about enough of it. While the old skipper was aboard, I did my duty by him and them as was under him; but now there’s a new skipper, I don’t see what call there is for me to go afloat with a set o’ lubbers in a crazy boat. You, Bill Smith, and you, squinty Brown, can do as you like. Captain Van,” I says, turning to him, “if you’ll shove that pistol away, I’ll stop aboard.”
“Hooray!” shouts half a dozen of the fellows; and I could see Van looking me through and through with them dark eyes of his; but I don’t think he got much below the skin either, and besides, he was a bit tickled by me calling him “captain;” so he puts the pistol in his belt, and the next minute Bill and Sam was aboard again, looking half-puzzled like. Then the mutineers gave a bit of a cheer, and the passengers groaned at us; and, to make matters right with them on board, I jumps on the taffrail and groans again, and calls the poor beggars “swabs”—God forgive me!—for shoving off in so lubberly a way, with their oars dipping anyhow, nohow, one after the other in the water, and the boats not trimmed. It was a cruel trick, but I meant it all for the best; while, what to do about old Sam, I didn’t know, for he was growling and swearing to himself like some old tiger-cat, and I was afraid he’d show his teeth and claws every moment; but he kept quiet. As for poor Bill, he seemed misty and dazed, never speaking, but sitting down on the deck to lean his head against the side. Then Van seemed more at rest, for, giving his orders, the men uncocked their pistols, after making-believe to blow the fat passenger’s brains out, and making the perspiration run down his face, mixed up with tears, for he began to pipe his eye terribly.
“Lower ’em below,” says Van; and the fat passenger saved ’em the trouble; while, when they were letting down Tomtit, whose hands were tied, and they were going to let go, they found his legs was already at the bottom, and then his head disappeared, but only to pop up again the next moment like a Jack-in-the-box, to see what was going to be done to the doctor.
“Ain’t he a rum beggar?” I says to one of the blood-thirsty devils at my side, all to make friends, you see; and he laughed, and so did two or three more, for another of ’em made a cut at the poor chap’s head with his cutlash, to make him bob down the hatchway again, which he did, though only to come up again, till, finding it wasn’t safe, he kept down, and we didn’t see him no more just then. The poor doctor was the next to take their attention; and, seeing how cut up the poor fellow was, I’d have given something to have gone and shaken hands with him, and told him what I felt, and at first I hardly dare look him in the face.
They lashed Mr Ward’s hands behind him, and I saw his lips quiver as he kept on casting an eye at the cabin-stairs. I knew well enough what he was thinking about, only I daren’t look at him much, for there were plenty watching me suspiciously enough, and, let alone not wanting to be knocked on the head, I felt that to do any good for the passengers, I must throw them as had the upper hand off the scent.