“I see,” said she, as eagerly now as Snowball. “There’s Mr Adams in his cabin asleep. He was so worn out, I suppose, that he couldn’t hear Frank—I mean,” she corrected herself blushing unconsciously—“Mr Harness call! Rouse him up at once, and I’ll get a light for you to go below.”
The darkey did as she told him, although he found it a difficult task to awaken the second mate, who was so fast asleep that he had to be pulled out of his cot before he opened his eyes.
He was already dressed, however, and would have rushed up on deck the moment Kate told him what had occurred had she not laid her hand on his arm and prevented him, pointing out how much better Snowball’s plan would result in bringing material assistance to the little party who were still struggling with the mutineers, and fighting desperately, as they could hear.
“Do be quick and go down at once,” she pleaded. “A moment’s delay may sacrifice a valuable life; and then, it will be all your fault!”
So urged, Mr Adams consented against his will almost; and, following Snowball down into the after hold with the lantern Kate had procured from the steward’s pantry, which she found tenantless, Llewellyn having mysteriously vanished out of the saloon, the two proceeded as rapidly as they could to work their way through the packing-cases and casks that were stowed right under the cuddy floor, towards the bulkhead that divided this portion of the ship from the main hold.
Arrived here, Snowball soon recognised the advantage of having Mr Adams along with him; for, in addition to the fact that the second mate, as is usual in merchant vessels, knew where each and every article of the cargo was stowed, he also was acquainted with the circumstance of there being a sliding door in the bulkhead, which the darkey was unaware of and had thought they would have to break it down, which would have been a rather long job.
Consequently, in far less time than either he or Kate had imagined, the imprisoned crew, who had been long aroused by the trampling on deck and the noise of the struggle immediately over their heads, and had been knocking madly at the hatchway cover and trying vainly to lift it up, were released. Eager for the fray, from which they had so long been debarred from taking part, they rushed up through the cuddy and up the companion to the poop, prepared to take summary vengeance on those who had incarcerated them but with what result has been already described.
While Kate was giving this explanation to her father of the course of events below and how the affair was planned—Frank Harness listening to her the while with glistening eyes, and squeezing her hand furtively as he pressed to her side—it was amusing to watch the demeanour of the darkey cook.
His mouth was spread open from ear to ear in one huge grin at the recital of his well-planned scheme for the defeat of the mutineers’ machinations and release of the imprisoned crew. His chest expanded, too, with pride at the praise bestowed on him for his pluck and perspicacity; and when, finally, Ben Boltrope, who, of course, with Karl Ericksen, had remained loyal and been locked down below with the rest of the starboard watch, proposed “three cheers for Snowball,” the cook could contain himself no longer, but burst into a loud guffaw, thus taking a prominent part in the demonstration in his own honour.
In the meantime nobody had been idle.