In obedience to this command, the mob of mutineers who had clustered about the door of the forward deck-house—into which the unfortunate skipper had been thrust—melted away, and Captain Blyth found himself left alone with his jailer and young Manners, the latter being bound hand and foot, and lying gagged in one of the bunks which had been vacated when the steerage passengers were drafted into the forecastle.
In the midst of his bewilderment and dismay the skipper still retained enough presence of mind to note, by the light of the single lantern which illuminated the place, that his young subordinate was suffering severe discomfort from the presence of the gag—a large belaying-pin—in his mouth; and, turning to the man Nicholls, he pointed out that, unless the crew wished to add the crime of murder to that of mutiny, it would be advisable to remove the gag at once.
“Well, sir,” said the man, civilly enough—he was one of the former steerage passengers—“I don’t know what to do about that. I’d be willing enough to take the thing out of the young gentleman’s mouth, but my orders are strict; and if anything was to happen through my meddling you may depend upon it I should be made to suffer for it.”
“If that is what you are afraid of, my good fellow,” said the skipper, “you may remove the gag at once. Nothing shall happen, I promise you. The crew have possession of the ship, safe enough; and, bound hand and foot as we two are, we can do nothing to recover her. So out with it at once, my man, unless you wish to see the poor lad suffocate before your eyes.”
This was enough; the gag was at once removed, the skipper at the same time cautioning Manners against any ill-timed attempt to raise an alarm, and then Nicholls was questioned as to the reasons for the mutiny.
“Well, sir,” was the reply, “I don’t rightly understand the ins and outs of the thing, myself; but Williams has been talkin’ to the men, and, accordin’ to his showin’, labourers and mechanics and sailors have been robbed and cheated out of their rights time out o’ mind. So the long and the short of it is that we’ve all took a solemn oath to stand by one another in an attempt to get what rightfully belongs to us.”
“What rightfully belongs to you?” exclaimed the skipper in bewilderment. “I don’t understand you, my man. You surely do not pretend to say that I have defrauded you of anything to which you are entitled? A certain amount of wages is, of course, due to you in respect of work already performed; but it is the custom to pay seamen only when they arrive at the port of discharge—”
“Oh, yes, sir; we understands all that, of course,” interrupted Nicholls. “It ain’t that at all, sir; it’s—”
Captain Blyth, however, was not destined to learn just then what “it” was, for at this point the conversation was broken in upon by the reappearance of a party of the mutineers, headed by Williams, and having poor Ned among them as a prisoner.
“There, Ned, there’s the skipper. In you go, my lad, and stow yourself alongside of him; and that will complete the party,” exclaimed Williams cheerfully, as he thrust the lad unceremoniously through the doorway of the deck-house. “Now take the gag out of his mouth,” he commanded; “but I caution you,” he continued sternly, addressing himself particularly to Ned, “that if either of you utter a single outcry I’ll blow his brains out without hesitation.” And as he spoke he drew from his pocket a revolver which he began deliberately to load.