“That sounds bad. They’re hatching a new plot against us. It is like having your ship on fire somewhere amongst the cargo in a place where you cannot reach. It goes on smouldering day after day, and you are in the full expectation of its breaking out. You don’t know when, but you are sure that it must come before long.”
“I was thinking something of the kind,” replied the doctor.
And so was I, though I did not speak. And in addition, I had an idea in my head that I could not work out, and while I was trying I had another idea. The first one was, that if by any means we could catch Jarette, the mutiny would all fall to pieces; but then the job was to catch the rascal, and that puzzled me.
It was very close to daylight; and cold, low-spirited, and miserable, I was beginning to think that between the storm and the men below, the poor old Burgh Castle must come to grief, when Bob Hampton came up glistening in his oilskins.
“I were to come and say as the lady’s got jorums o’ hot coffee ready, sir, in the captain’s cabin. Mr Denning and Mr Dale’s to go first, and I’m to take the watch till they comes back.”
I saw Mr Denning wince and dart a sharp look at the doctor, but the latter did not turn his head, and once more we began fighting our way back, with the ship seeming at times quite to dance on the tops of the waves.
But we reached the shelter in safety, and as soon as we were under cover I felt sure that the wind was not so fierce, and said so.
“I could not tell any difference,” said Mr Denning, sadly, as we went right aft, to find the captain’s cabin, right in the stern—the one through whose window I had climbed after my hazardous descent from the rigging—looking bright and cheerful, and hot coffee waiting for us, in company with sweet smiles and cheering words.
It was wonderful. One minute I had been ready to give up and think that all was over; the next, as the hot drink sent a glow through me, I was ready to smile back at Miss Denning, and join her in persuading her brother to go to his cabin and change; while the very next minute Mr Brymer came down with a large bottle, and after hastily swallowing a cup of the coffee, he begged for a bottleful to carry up to the men at the wheel.
“Is the storm still so bad, Mr Brymer?” asked Miss Denning, as the mate was about to hurry back on deck.