At six o'clock this morning I was roused by the sound of angry voices, and, starting up, I saw Owen and Jynxstrop, with Flaypole, Wilson, Burke, and Sandon, standing in a threatening attitude. They had taken possession of the carpenter's tools, and now, armed with hatchets, chisels, and hammers, they were preparing to attack the captain, the boatswain, and Dowlas. I attached myself in a moment to Curtis's party. Falsten followed my example, and although our knives were the only weapons at our disposal, we were ready to defend ourselves to the very last extremity.
Owen and his men advanced toward us. The miserable wretches were all drunk, for during the night they had knocked a hole in the brandy-barrel, and had recklessly swallowed its contents. What they wanted they scarcely seemed to know, but Owen and Jynxstrop, not quite so much intoxicated as the rest, seemed to be urging them on to massacre the captain and the officers.
"Down with the captain! Overboard with Curtis! Owen shall take the command!" they shouted from time to time in their drunken fury; and, armed as they were, they appeared completely masters of the situation.
"Now, then, down with your arms!" said Curtis sternly, as he advanced to meet them.
"Overboard with the captain!" howled Owen, as by word and gesture he urged on his accomplices.
Curtis pushed aside the excited rascals, and, walking straight up to
Owen, asked him what he wanted.
"What do we want? Why, we want no more captains; we are all equals now."
Poor stupid fool! as though misery and privation had not already reduced us all to the same level.
"Owen," said the captain once again, "down with your arms!"
"Come on, all of you," shouted Owen to his companions, without giving the slightest heed to Curtis's words.