I heard the click of the latches of the cabin-doors as the two ladies retired, and presently Sir Edgar came on deck again, with a fresh cigar in his mouth, and seated himself once more beside me, remarking—
“There! I have packed my womankind off to bed, and have laid my rifle, with a good supply of cartridges, in my own bunk—an act which has somewhat relieved my mind. So now, captain, as the coast is clear down below, there is nothing to prevent your making your preparations as soon as you please.”
“Very good,” said I; “then I will set about them at once. And, by way of a start, I think we will ‘blind’ the skylights; as I fully agree with Roberts that there is no especial advantage in revealing four whereabouts to anybody to-night. Nothing but a steamer could run us down in this weather; and, should there happen to be one coming along, we should see her lights in ample time to give her warning of our position.”
The mate was still promenading to and fro between the break of the poop and the binnacle; so when he next passed I requested him to have the canvas covers put over the skylights, also to direct the steward to turn down the lamps in the saloon and my own cabin, and to carefully draw the curtains before all the sidelights, so that no treacherous ray might gleam forth from the ship’s side and betray our locality. This was soon done; and the noiseless movements of the mate as he went forward and gave the necessary orders in a whisper, instead of issuing them in stentorian tones from the break of the poop, sufficiently indicated his conviction of the existence of a lurking peril in our immediate vicinity.
The one thing that we had to fear, above all others—and to guard against—in the event of an attack, was the presence of the pirates on our own decks. Should they succeed in boarding us, it would certainly be in such overwhelming numbers as to render an effective resistance impossible; our small party would be quickly overpowered, and then the fate of everybody on board would be sealed. Our safety depended upon our keeping the foe at arm’s length. Half a dozen fathoms of water would suffice; but the problem was how to accomplish this very desirable end. I had been giving a good deal of thought to this, even while chatting disconnectedly with Sir Edgar in the earlier part of the evening, and had at length hit upon a plan that I thought might be successful. We had on board a small fire engine, mounted on wheels, with a hose and jet attached, and a tank capable of containing some fifty gallons. This engine I now ordered to be uncovered, and prepared for action by securely lashing a small loose mop-head of oakum round the nozzle of the hose, taking especial care that the aperture of the jet should be left perfectly free. Roberts, who seemed at once to divine and understand my plan even before I had explained it to him, undertook this part of the work in person; and in about ten minutes he reported that all was ready, and invited me to inspect his workmanship.
It was by this time “five bells;” and the night was, without exception, the darkest, I think, that I had ever experienced. So dark, indeed, was it, that, well as we knew the ship, we had to feel our way along the deck with hands and feet, for it was absolutely impossible to see anything a foot beyond the end of one’s nose. With such intense darkness as this it was evident that the heavens must be obscured by exceptionally heavy masses of cloud; which, with the hot, breathless condition of the atmosphere, led me to anticipate and hope for a thunderstorm, which would at least afford us sufficient light to inspect our surroundings, and so put an end to a state of suspense that was growing wearisome. And not only was the night intensely dark; it was also oppressively silent; for, the water being perfectly smooth, there was no life or motion in the ship to give rise to those sounds—such as the flapping of canvas, the creaking of timbers and bulkheads, etcetera, etcetera—that usually make a calm so irritating to people who happen to be troubled with nerves. All was silent as death itself; our own movements being hushed, in harmony with the prevailing stillness, so that we spoke under our breath, and moved about on tiptoe.
In this silent, groping way I followed Roberts forward to inspect the fire engine; and it was while thus engaged with the aid of a carefully shielded lantern, that the mate exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper, as he held up his hand, and bent his head in a listening attitude—
“Hark! did you hear that, sir?”
“No,” said I, “I heard nothing. What was it?”
“Why,” answered Roberts, “it sounded to me like the noise of an oar, or a sweep, creaking in a rowlock; and it seemed to come from away yonder,”—pointing, as he spoke, in the direction of the larboard bow.