"All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody sun at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.
* * * *
"I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat,
For the sea and sky, and the sea and sky,
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet."
CHAPTER XXIV.
I CONFRONT THE CUBANO.
From the wild thoughts and fancies which the horrors of that early morning, our strange situation, and my own rather active imagination, were suggesting, I was roused by Ned Carlton, who, on being relieved from the wheel, came forward to the bows, where most of the crew were seated on the windlass, or were lounging against the bitts, speculating on what might turn up next.
In an excited and impressive manner, he reported that he had heard, from time to time, the sound of moans, as from some one in great pain in the cabin; that he believed that either the captain or mate yet survived; and if we could get down by any means we might be in time to save one or other. If he was bleeding to death, the victim could not last long,—a little time, and we should be too late!
This information increased our anxiety, and greatly excited us.
Remembering the manner in which Antonio first came on board—the mystery of his being alone in the blood-stained boat—his dreams—the disappearance of Roberts—the occurrences of the morning—and though last not least, the rough treatment to which the crew had subjected him on the night we passed the line,—none were very willing to enter the cabin where this savage Cubano, flushed with brandy, bloodshed, and ferocity, sat with loaded pistols in his hands. But all felt that something must be done; that, while a doubt remained, it should be solved, and a life so important to us saved, even though others be risked for it.
I volunteered to become the envoy of the crew.