“Now, Mr Grenvile, you may safely move, sir, and the sooner you do so the better, for them villains have scuttled us, and I don’t doubt but what the water’s pourin’ into us like a sluice at this very moment. So please crawl over to me, keepin’ yourself well out of sight below the rail, for I’ll bet anything that there’s eyes aboard that brig still watchin’ of us, and cast me loose, so that I can make my way down below and plug them auger-holes without any loss of time.”
I at once made a move, with the intention of getting upon my hands and knees, but instantly experienced the most acute pain in my temple, due to the fact, which I now discovered, that the shot which had struck me down had torn loose a large piece of the skin of my forehead, which had become stuck fast to the deck planking by the blood which had flowed from the wound and had by this time dried. To loosen this flap of skin cost me the most exquisite pain, and when at length I had succeeded in freeing myself, and rose to my hands and knees, so violent a sensation of giddiness and nausea suddenly swept over me that I again collapsed, remaining insensible for quite ten minutes according to the carpenter’s account.
But even during my unconsciousness I was vaguely aware of some urgent, even vital, necessity for me to be up and doing, and this it was, I doubt not, that helped me to recover consciousness much sooner than I should have done but for the feeling to which I have alluded. Once more I rose to my hands and knees, half-blinded by the blood that started afresh from my wound, and crawled over to where the carpenter lay on the deck, in what must have been a most uncomfortable attitude, hunched up against the port bulwarks, with his wrists lashed tightly together behind his back and his heels triced up to them, so that it was absolutely impossible for him to move or help himself in the slightest degree.
As I approached him the poor fellow groaned rather than spoke.
“Thank God that you’re able to move at last, Mr Grenvile! I was mortal afraid that ’twas all up with you when you toppled over just now. For pity’s sake, sir, cut me loose as soon as you can, for these here lashin’s have been drawed so tight that I’ve lost all feelin’ in my hands and feet, while my arms and legs seems as though they was goin’ to burst. What! haven’t you got a knife about you, sir? I don’t know what’s become of mine, but some of the men’ll be sure to have one, if you enquire among ’em.”
Hurried enquiry soon revealed the disconcerting fact that we could not muster a solitary knife among us; we had all either lost them, or had had them taken from us; there was therefore nothing for it but to heave poor Chips over on his face, and cast him adrift with my hands, which proved to be a longer and much more difficult job than I could have believed, owing, of course, to the giddiness arising from my wound, which made both my sight and my touch uncertain. But at length the last knot was loosed, the last turn of the rope cast off, and Chips was once more a free man.
But when he essayed to stand, the poor fellow soon discovered that his troubles were not yet over. For his feet were so completely benumbed that he had no feeling in them, and when he attempted to rise his ankles gave way under him and let him down again upon the deck. Then, as the blood once more began to circulate through his benumbed extremities, the pricking and tingling that followed soon grew so excruciatingly painful that he fairly groaned and ground his teeth in agony. To allay the pain I chafed his arms and legs vigorously, and in the course of a few minutes he was able to crawl along the deck to the companion, and then make his way below.
Meanwhile, taking the utmost care to keep my head below the level of the bulwarks, in order that my movements might not be detected by any chance watcher aboard the pirate craft, I cast loose the three unwounded men—the carpenter being the fourth of our little band who had escaped the destructive broadside of the pirates—and bade them assist me to cast off the lashings which confined the wounded. We were still thus engaged when Simpson came up through the companion, dripping wet, glowering savagely, and muttering to himself.
“Well, Chips,” said I, “what is the best news from below?”
“Bad, sir; pretty nigh as bad as can be,” answered the carpenter. “They’ve scuttled us most effectually, bored eight holes through her skin, close up alongside the kelson, three of which I’ve managed to plug after a fashion, but by the time I had done them the water had risen so high that I found it impossible to get at t’others. I reckon that sundown will about see the last of this hooker; but by that time yonder brig ’ll be pretty nigh out of sight, and we shall have a chance to get away in the boats, which, for a wonder, them murderin’ thieves forgot to damage.”