I looked on as if spellbound, forgetting the boat and my mission as I crouched there in the dark, feeling that a tragedy was at hand, though I could not grasp all and divine that this was the crowning-point of the mutiny.
For Jarette bent right down over the open hold, lowering the lantern, whose light played upon the barrel of a pistol.
“Now,” he cried, “once more, will you come up and leave that spirit-barrel, or am I to fire?”
“Fire away,” came up in muffled tones, but quite defiantly, and as the last word reached my ear there was the sharp report of the pistol, whose flash shone out brighter than the lantern. Then a horrible cry came from below, and for a few moments I could see nothing for the smoke which hung in the air. But from out of it came an excited burst of talking and yelling.
“Stand back,” roared Jarette. “I have five more shots ready, and you see I can hit. Serve the scoundrel right.”
“But look, look!” shouted the man who had spoken before; and as the smoke dispersed, I saw him pointing down into the hold, while the other men, sobered now, stood huddled together in alarm.
Then with a wild yell of horror one of them threw up his hands, shouting “Fire, fire!” ran forward, while a fearful figure suddenly appeared at the mouth of the hold, climbed on deck, and then shrieking horribly, also ran forward with Jarette and the others in full pursuit.