"Nix," said Barnes. "Good Lord, girl! Haven't you seen already what sort o' swine the others are? Hear that so-called wireless officer scream? He's still off his head—and couldn't send a message if he were sane. And the old man's soggy with opium. Here you are! Step on this water breaker, and over into her; she's solid."
Indeed, his words were given emphasis by the screaming of the wireless man, which had broken out anew down below. Miss Sayers stepped to the breaker, and Barnes helped her up into the boat. Then he turned, picked up Ellen Maggs bodily and lifted her over the edge, laughing as he did so.
"Got your pistol? Good. Sit tight, and don't scream when things bust loose. See you later."
He left them hurriedly and returned to the wheel, fighting down his appalling helplessness to prevent what was going to happen. About the ship's officers he cared less than nothing; he was thinking now of the Arab woman and her brown children below. Abdullah might or might not protect them from the yellow fiends.
The tall figure of the serang rose at the starboard ladder. One glance from Li Fu told Barnes that this was the end. The two lascars were here to finish the quartermaster, and Gajah had come to attend to the second mate. The time was at hand.
Barnes went to the door of the chart-house. A shot would do the business, but he wanted no shooting up here if possible.
"Serang!" he exclaimed crisply. "Step aft. Something I want to show you."
That suited the Malay, who loosened his kris in its sheath and followed. At the corner of the chart-house, Barnes pointed across the deck, obscure in the starlight, to the boat.
"What's that?"
Sincerely astonished, Gajah peered at the boat, with the two women sitting in her. And as he stared, Barnes let drive with the heavy barrel of his automatic, a full, fair blow across the skull. A grunt broke from the serang, who pitched sideways and flung out his arms. Barnes caught him and lowered the bleeding form to the deck, then darted back to the chart-house.