That minute seemed to be stretched out into quite an hour; and then, feeling that it was now or never, I shoved one after the other six pistols inside my shirt, when taking another step to reach where some cutlashes stood together in a corner, I knocked one down, when I threw myself on my hands and knees, so that, if Brassey started up, he would not see me at first. Then as I stooped there trembling with anxiety, I heard him yawn, push the lamp a little farther on the table, and a minute after, he was snoring loud.
I waited as long as I dared, and then rising lightly, I got hold of one cutlash, and then of five more, out of a good twenty as stood there; staffed as many cartridges out of the arm-chest into my pockets as they would hold; and then, after doing all this by fits and starts, expecting every moment that Brassey would hear me, I turned to go.
I’d crept across the cabin, and reached the door, when I heard a step on the deck, and drew back; but the next moment it had gone, and after waiting for a minute, with the cutlashes tightly held under my arm, I made another start, when my heart seemed to sink, for I heard a sort of husky cough I well knew, and Van had his foot upon the stairs.
There was only one way for safety, and that I snatched at, for in another few seconds Van would have had me by the throat, and all would have been over; but, darting back, I laid hold of the lamp, dashed it down upon the sleeping man’s head, and then leaped aside.
Story 2--Chapter XIII.
That trap took just as I expected. Brassey leaped up like a wounded tiger; and, cutlash in hand, Van bounded down the stairs, when the two men were locked in a sharp tussle in an instant, leaving the way clear for me to slip up, gain the mizzen shrouds, and make my way up into the top, where I laid my treasures; went hand over hand by the stay, and got down to the deck again in the dark by the main shrouds, without being seen, and joined the party that was being collected by the noise and shouting in the cabin.
“Curse you! bring a lantern. Help here, or he’ll end me!” roared Van in a smothered voice; but not a man dared go down till I offered; and, making-believe to be afraid to venture without a cutlash, one of the chaps handed me one; and with the lantern in my other hand, I went cautiously down, chuckling to myself to find that Van and Brassey had been mauling one another awfully; and if it had not been for my coming, there’d no doubt have been an end of one of the scoundrels; for, woke up wild and savage from a drunken sleep, Brassey had attacked Van fiercely, and when I got to them, had him down and half-throttled.
There wasn’t a man that didn’t grin as Van cursed and raged at Brassey for a drunken fool, starting up and knocking the lamp over; while Brassey swore that Van struck him first, showing his bleeding head as a witness; but after such an up-and-down fight as they had had in the dark, no one took much notice of what he said, every one, themselves included, taking it for a false alarm; and we all separated, leaving Van and Brassey sore and savage as could be.
Knowing how frightened some of the prisoners would be, I says out loud to one of the chaps as we passed the broken panes: