The men were still struggling with the second mate when a figure sprang up through the companion, closely followed by a second, and Captain Staunton’s voice was heard exclaiming—
“Good heavens! Mr Carter, what is the meaning of this? Back men; back, for your lives. How dare you raise your hands against one of your officers?”
The men had by this time wrenched the pistols out of Carter’s hands, and they at once fell back and left him as Captain Staunton and Mr Bowles advanced to his rescue.
The new-comers placed themselves promptly one on each side of the second mate, and then the two parties stood staring somewhat blankly at each other for something like a minute.
“Well, Mr Carter,” at last exclaimed Captain Staunton, “have you nothing to say by way of explanation of this extraordinary scene? What does it mean?”
“Mutiny, sir; that and nothing less,” gasped Carter, whose passion almost deprived him of speech. “I thank you, sir, and you too, Mr Bowles, for coming to my rescue; but for that I should have been a dead man by this time.”
“Oh, no, you wouldn’t, Mr Carter,” exclaimed one of the men. “We ain’t murderers; and we shouldn’t ha’ touched you if you hadn’t touched us first.”
“That will do,” exclaimed Captain Staunton. “If any of you have anything to say you shall have an opportunity of saying it in due time; at present I wish to hear what Mr Carter has to say,” turning inquiringly once more toward that individual.
Thus pressed, Carter related his version of the story, which was to the effect that the men had refused to obey orders, and had come aft in so menacing a manner that in self-defence he had been compelled to arm himself; and further, that hoping to check the mutiny in the bud, he had shot down the “ringleader.”
“So that is the explanation of the shots which awoke me,” exclaimed Captain Staunton. “And where is the wounded man?”