He had not long to wait. Hardly was he comfortably established in his comparatively safe position, when a hand appeared from behind the quarter-piece in search of the iron. George promptly seized and guided it to the object of its search, then firmly grasped the wrist with one hand, keeping the other ready to render further assistance.
“Look out, sir, I’m coming,” he heard the chief mate mutter, and then, with a tremendous swing, Mr Bowen’s body came into view. Quick as thought George leaned over and caught the disengaged hand, placed it too upon the iron, and then, rising to his feet and exerting his strength to the utmost, he proceeded to drag his chief mate up alongside himself.
“Now,” he whispered, as soon as he had got him there, “I shall begin to work my way forward at once, so as to be out of your way; but you had better stay and lend Cross a hand. I shall wait for you both in the fore-chains.”
So saying, he stepped off the brace-iron, planting his feet firmly on the broad beading which ran along the top edge of the sheer-strake, and leaning his body against the bulwarks, whilst he grasped the outer edge of the rail to steady himself, he speedily and easily reached the mizzen-chains.
Here, availing himself of the partial shelter and cover afforded by the lanyards and dead-eyes of the rigging, he cautiously raised his head above the level of the bulwarks, to survey the state of the deck inboard. The first object which met his view was the figure of the helmsman, rendered visible by the light of the binnacle-lamps as they beamed dimly out upon him and feebly lighted up his figure. He was leaning negligently against the wheel, with one arm thrown carelessly over it, and his eyes were vacantly fixed upon the cloudy heavens above him, with his thoughts evidently far away. Not another soul was visible, either forward or aft; but George thought he could make out the indistinct outline of something resembling a human figure seated on the bench to windward of the cabin companion. He continued so long his earnest gaze upon this object that he was quite startled to find his first and second mates beside him; and he came at last to the conclusion that, if it were indeed a human figure at all, it must be that of the prize-master—sound asleep.
Turning his glances from this object forward, he saw that the galley-door to windward was shut, whilst on the lee-side it was open, the reflection of a light inside shining pretty strongly upon the lee bulwarks and showing the shadows of men evidently in the act of eating and drinking.
“Do you see that?” whispered George to his two companions. “Nothing could possibly be more favourable to our plans. We will work our way forward as far as the main-rigging, when, I think, we may venture to slip over the bulwarks, and in on deck. Then we must creep very cautiously forward, find out the whereabouts of the watchman, or lookout, or whatever he is, and overpower him, if possible, without raising an alarm. That done, we will set free our own lads, and I have no fear whatever as to the result.”
The three adventurers then moved noiselessly forward until they came to the main-rigging, when they slipped in on deck, and, crouching low in the deep shadow of the weather bulwarks, crept along until they were within a dozen feet of the fore-scuttle. Here they paused, and began to peer anxiously about for the man they expected to find on watch on the forecastle.
“There he is, just forward of the cat-head,” whispered the second mate; and hastily snatching a heavy iron belaying-pin from the rail, he stole, crouching and noiseless as a cat, upon his unconscious enemy. Six seconds later a dull heavy blow was heard, followed by a faint groan, the dark object near the cat-head vanished, and Cross, returning to the skipper’s side, whispered—
“He’s all right; knocked the senses clean out of him, and then laid him quietly out on deck. I reckon he won’t come to hisself again for the next half-hour. Now, what’s the next move, cap’n?”