Sail Ho! A Boy at Sea

by George Manville Fenn

“All right, skipper,” said the man with a half-laugh, and he and his lantern disappeared, while I clung there listening and wondering why Jarette did not go aft. Could he see me?

Just when I felt as if I could bear the suspense no longer, I heard him move off, whistling softly, and as soon as I dared I descended and followed, creeping along step by step, and listening with all my ears for the faint whistling sound to which he gave vent from time to time.

There it was plainly enough, just abaft the main-mast, and he seemed to have stopped there and to be looking over the bulwark—I merely guessed as much, for the sound had stopped, and of course I stopped too.

To my intense satisfaction I found that I was right, for the faint sibillation began again, and was continued along the deck, till, as I followed, it paused again, grew louder, and I knew that the scoundrel was coming back.

But he altered his mind again, turned and went aft—into the saloon, I thought for a few moments, for the faint whistling ceased, and then began again high up.

There was no mistaking that. He had mounted to the poop-deck, and was walking towards the wheel. Young as I was then, I grasped the fact that the man was restless and worried lest some attempt should be made to recover the ship, and unable to trust one of his men, he was traversing the deck uneasily, keeping strict watch himself.

This was bad for my purpose, for it was too dark to see him, and at any moment I felt he might come upon me, and my attempt be defeated.

But here was an opportunity I had hardly dared to reckon upon, and the minute his steps died out I hurried to the companion-way, entered, and saw that there was a dim light in the captain’s cabin at the end of the saloon.

This seemed to prove that my ideas were right, and that Jarette had taken possession of this cabin now for his own use, and at all hazards I was about to hurry there, when I caught sight of another faint light on my right—a mere line of light which came from beneath the cabin-door, and told me plainly enough that this was the one in which Miss Denning was kept a prisoner. Whether her brother was there too I could not tell, for there was not a sound.

I hesitated and stopped, for the inclination was terribly strong upon me to tap and whisper a word or two about help being at hand. It was not a minute, but long enough to deprive me of the chance of finding out whether there were arms in the cabin, for as I hesitated I heard a light step overhead, and knew that Jarette was returning from his uneasy round.