“The next thing,” answered George, “is to open the fore-scuttle, and quietly get our own lads on deck. I am surprised that they have not attempted to steal up of their own accord before this.”
On going to the forecastle hatch, however, they soon discovered the reason why the men were content to remain so quietly below, a large mooring hawser having been coiled down on the top of the hatch, thus effectually preventing the imprisoned men from raising it.
“We shall never be able to move this without giving the alarm,” said George. “We must contrive somehow to shut those fellows up in the galley, and keep them there.”
“That is easily done,” whispered the chief mate. “‘Cookey’ has a lot of firewood stowed away in the eyes of the long-boat; we must get hold of a piece, cut half a dozen wedges from it, and one of us must then slide-to the door on the lee-side, and wedge it tight with three of the wedges, whilst another of us at the same time wedges up the door to windward.”
He then glided away to the long-boat, and soon returned with a small piece of wood in his hand.
“Here we are,” he whispered; “now we’ll soon have them boxed up so tight that they won’t get out until we open the doors for ’em.”
Whilst speaking he had produced his knife from his pocket, and, notwithstanding the intense darkness, soon hacked out the half-dozen wedges, which, though very roughly shaped, were still good enough for the purpose.
“Now, sir,” said he in a low tone to George, “you take these three, let Cross go with you and slide-to the lee-door with a slam, and then you slip in the wedges and jam them tight home, while I will do the same to wind’ard, as soon as I hear Cross close the lee-door.”
George took the wedges, and, accompanied by Cross crept noiselessly up to the galley-door to leeward, Mr Bowen meanwhile making his way to the corresponding door on the weather side. There was a loud slam, a moment of silence, then a tremendous outcry, accompanied by the sound of heavy battering from inside the galley, and the three adventurers met again at the forecastle hatch.
“Now, then,” cried George, “we haven’t a moment to lose, so let us capsize the hawser bodily. Are you ready? Then, one—two—three, Heave!”