At this moment the tremulous greenish glare of the sheet lightning once more lit up the scene, this time much more strongly than on the first occasion, and in the midst of the quivering radiance there was a single sudden, vivid gleam, like the instantaneous flash of a gigantic lantern behind the dense masses of cloud lying piled along the western horizon, the light being so brilliant as to be quite dazzling after the Cimmerian darkness to which our eyes had become accustomed. But, despite the dazzling brilliancy of the sudden illumination, the retina of my eyes caught and retained the vision of three large proas broad on our starboard quarter, about two miles distant, situated precisely as Roberts had described them; and that this vision was no illusion of my senses was instantly demonstrated by the mate, who interrupted himself to quickly exclaim—
“There they are again, sir.”
“Yes, I saw them,” said I. “And there are four more about three miles up the straits, on our port beam. That makes seven craft in our neighbourhood that were certainly not there when the darkness closed down upon us. Now, in order to get where they are they must have been using their sweeps; which, I must confess, has, to my mind, rather a bad look; as, from what I have heard of the Malays, they are not so fond of hard work as to resort to it for mere pastime. However, we shall soon know what they are after; if they are looking for us, that last flash has most probably enabled them to discover our whereabouts; and if they mean mischief they will all be heading for us when next we see them. Meanwhile, Mr Roberts, it is evident that we are about to be treated to a heavy thunderstorm; and as it may bring a violent wind-squall with it, we will make provision for the possibility by stowing all our light canvas. Ah!”—as another and still brighter flash burst forth, followed this time by the low muttering of distant thunder—“there they come; the rascals are certainly after us! Call all hands at once, if you please, Mr Roberts; there will be time to shorten sail, and to prepare a reception for the Malays before they can get alongside.”
“All hands shorten sail!” shouted the mate, scrambling off the poop, and groping his way forward. “Clew up and furl the royals and to’ga’nts’ls; and see that you stow them in such a way that they won’t blow adrift if a squall happens to strike us. Let go the main-royal and to’gallant and the mizzen-topmast staysail halliards, and man the downhauls; then you can stow the sails, as you work your way down. Is that you, Mr Forbes? Just see that the main and fore tops’l-halliards are all clear for letting run, will ye? And when your lads come on deck we will haul down and stow the flying-jib and get in the gaff-tops’l and mizzen. That’s your sort, my bullies; now, away aloft and stow everything as quickly as you can.”
The men, fearful that the anticipated squall might burst upon the ship before we were prepared for it, worked with a will, their efforts being greatly facilitated by the lightning that was now quivering and flashing all round the horizon with momentarily increasing splendour, and at such brief intervals that the illumination might almost be said to be continuous; while the deep, hollow rumble of the thunder might very well have been mistaken for the booming of a distant cannonade. The effect of the incessant flicker of the lightning was very weird; the tremulous greenish-blue glare illuminating the ponderous masses and contorted shapes of the black clouds overhead, the surface of the ink-black sea around us, the distant proas, and the hull, spars, sails, and rigging of the barque, with the moving figures aloft and at the jib-boom end, and suffusing everything with so baleful and unearthly a light that only the slightest effort of the imagination was needed to fancy ourselves a phantom ship, manned by ghosts of the unquiet dead, floating upon the sooty flood of the Styx, with the adamantine foundations of the world arching ponderously and menacingly over our heads and reflecting from their rugged surfaces the flashing of the flames of Phlegethon.
Chapter Nine.
An Eventful Night.
The storm was approaching us rapidly; the rumble of the thunder grew momentarily louder, and soon became continuous; and presently a vivid flash of chain lightning streamed from the clouds low down upon the northern horizon, followed, in about half a minute, by a smart peal of thunder, much louder than any that we had yet heard. This was quickly succeeded by a second flash, perceptibly nearer than the first—for the interval between it and the resulting clap of thunder was noticeably shorter, while the volume of sound was much greater and sharper. And still the sheet lightning continued to play vividly and with scarcely a second’s intermission among the Titanic cloud-masses around and above us, lighting up the entire scene from horizon to horizon; so that we now had no difficulty whatever in following the movements of the various proas in sight, the whole fleet of which were obviously converging upon us as upon a common centre.