“How long you have been! And what an eager, glad look there is in your face! What has happened? I am sure you have good news to tell us.”
“Good, thus far,” I admitted, “that the ship has not yet gone to sea; and I believe that she will not now go until to-morrow. The men appear to have obtained possession of some liquor, and are indulging in a royal carouse—if one may judge by the singing and noise that I heard going on aboard when I was down at the beach—and I am not without the hope that ere the night be much older the fellows will have drunk themselves into a helpless state of intoxication. Now, if upon my return presently to my late post of observation I should have reason to believe that such a thing has happened, I shall swim quietly off to the ship, and endeavour to get on board her without disturbing anybody; and should I be able to manage this, my next task will be to discover and liberate the mate. This once accomplished, it shall go hard with us if we do not succeed in retaking the ship from the drunken rascals, and repaying them in their own coin.”
“By Jove, Saint Leger, you are ‘grit all through,’ as the Yankees say. It is a bold scheme, and I believe you will succeed,” exclaimed Sir Edgar, admiringly. “I would that I could accompany you,” he added wistfully, “for in such an undertaking every additional man on your side is of incalculable value. But, unfortunately, my swimming powers are not equal to anything like such a stretch of water as that between the shore and the ship, and I should only be an embarrassment instead of a help to you, unless, indeed, I could contrive to do the distance with the aid of a log to float me.”
“No,” said I; “I am infinitely grateful to you, Sir Edgar, for your readiness to assist in this undertaking; but it is not to be thought of. Your place is manifestly here, by the side of your family, so that, should events turn out awkwardly, they may not be left on the island without a defender. We will not, however, contemplate any such unfortunate ending as that to the adventure; on the contrary, let us rather look forward hopefully to the prospect of your all breakfasting on board as usual, to-morrow morning. You understand, of course, that should I succeed, my first act, after securing the mutineers, will be to come ashore in a boat for you.”
“Do you suppose we do not know that?” exclaimed Miss Merrivale, impetuously. “But it is a desperately dangerous enterprise; and if—oh, why is it that women are such shamefully useless creatures in crises like these? If our strength were only equal to our courage—”
“You could not, even then, be more absolutely irresistible than you now are,” I interrupted, with a low bow, and a poor attempt at gallantry. “Your turn will come, however, be assured of that,” I continued; “for, whichever way this project of mine turns, you will have ample opportunity for the display of both courage and helpfulness. Should we ever succeed in recapturing the ship it is more than probable that I shall sometimes be compelled to call upon you all to afford help in such matters as the steering of her, and so on. But it is full early yet to talk like this.”
“So far as I am concerned, your call shall not be in vain!” exclaimed the spirited girl, with a flash of her eyes that thrilled through me like an electric shock. “If I have not the physical strength of a man, I have at least as resolute a will, which is no mean substitute for it. And now, good-bye; for I see that you are longing to get away. You will be careful, though, will you not? and not run any unnecessary risks?”
I took the hand that was so frankly extended to me, and gave it a hearty squeeze; gazed for an instant into the eyes that dwelt so anxiously upon mine; and, immeasurably cheered and encouraged by the interest and sympathy that I read there, turned away quickly and stepped briskly out toward the mouth of the creek once more.
The time I had taken to walk to and from the basin appeared to have sufficed the carousers to drink themselves well on toward a condition of oblivion; for when I again reached the beach opposite the ship, the singing had subsided into an occasional maudlin howl that, in its turn, soon afterwards yielded to the stupefying effects of the liquor, and a dead silence fell upon the ship.
I did not wait, however, for this final stage of insensibility to arrive among the mutineers; but kicked off my shoes, and laying them, with my hat and jacket, upon the sand, immediately upon my arrival at my former post of observation, at once entered the water and started to swim with long, steady, deliberate strokes toward the ship. The water was perfectly calm and smooth, as well as deliciously warm; so that, despite the leisurely character of my exertions, I made excellent progress, and, in a shorter time than I had thought possible, found myself within the deep shadow of the ship’s hull. Everything was by this time as silent as death on board, save for the slight jerk of the wheel-chains and the sob of the water along the bends and about the rudder as the ship swung gently upon the long, low ground-swell, the edge of which just caught her as it crept up from the westward across the mouth of the small estuary where she lay at anchor. So still and silent was the breathless night that the volume of sound raised by the insects on shore rang in my ears almost as distinctly out here as it had done when I stood upon the beach; it was, however, so far mellowed and softened by the intervening distance that it was possible to hear other sounds distinctly through it, even when they were so faint as the slight, almost imperceptible creak of the yard-parrels aloft, and the light flap of a coiled-up rope striking against the bulwarks with the slight, easy roll of the ship. I was therefore particularly careful not to make the faintest splash, as I drew up alongside, lest the unaccustomed sound should reach the ear of and startle some individual not yet completely overpowered by the drink he had swallowed. Fortunately for me, the gangway ladder had not been hauled up, and I was consequently free to board the ship well aft, thus greatly lessening the risk of detection; I had, therefore, only to wait until the roll of the ship brought the ladder within my grasp, seize it, and draw myself noiselessly out of the water. This was precisely the course that I followed; and I had already drawn myself up clear of the water when there occurred a rush and swirl immediately beneath me, and I received so smart a blow that I narrowly escaped being knocked off the ladder, as a large shark sprang half his length out of the water after me and fell back with a terrific splash, loud enough, I am sure, to have been distinctly heard on shore, had there been any one on the beach to hear it. The brute had evidently been lurking under the ship’s bottom—attracted there, doubtless, by the refuse thrown overboard from time to time by the cook—and had only become aware of my presence just in time to make a rapid, ill-directed rush that had very narrowly missed me. Oh, how fervently I thanked Heaven, as I sprang up the side beyond the reach of a possible second rush, that the necessity for a cautious approach to the ship had rendered my movements so noiseless that the great fish had not discovered me until too late!