By this time the ship—which had been kept off a couple of points, thus bringing the wind upon the quarter—had forged ahead so far that the boat was now abreast the main-rigging; and, as the oar-blades of its crew splashed in the water, the mutineer rushed to the waist, and watched the approaching vessel with an anxious eye.
“A pull on the lee-braces, men!” he shouted to the three islanders, who, besides the man at the wheel and the steward in the cabin, now constituted the crew of the Montpelier. They were all strong men, and, with the assistance of their powerful leader, they soon had the yards properly braced, to agree with the new course of the ship. The latter was now booming along through the water, at the rate of eight knots, with a man at the wheel who understood his business; for the New Zealander, besides his readiness in learning to wield the barbed harpoon, soon acquires a good practical knowledge of seamanship. “White Squall”—so named by his shipmates, on account of his fitful temper—was no exception to the rule, and he handled the spokes like a veteran—keeping the vessel so straight that even a frigate’s quartermaster could not have found fault with his steering. Lark’s tormentor, however, was still dashing along toward the ship, with that peculiar rapidity which characterizes the whale-boat—a craft which, being sharp at both ends, and gracefully and lightly modeled, is especially formed for speed. The boat was pulled with “double-banked oars”—that is, Briggs and his party, who were in the boat, assisted the crew of the second mate, and it soon was not further than seven fathoms from the Montpelier, abreast the mizzen rigging; and the grim-visaged Briggs, with a voice which certainly could not fail to make an impression, was doing his utmost to encourage the men.
A suspicion of the truth had flashed across his mind at the moment when Lark answered his hail, and, as there were many thousands of dollars already belonging to him, as his share of the cargo now in the Montpelier, he did not feel at all inclined to allow the vessel to escape him.
“Oh! you lubberly rascal, you! But there’ll be some fine flogging in that craft when I get aboard of it!” he shouted, as Captain Lark, with a pipe in his mouth, and his loaded pistol in his right hand, although kept out of sight, coolly peered at him over the quarter-rail.
“Nonsense,” replied this individual, blowing a defiant puff of smoke toward the boat. “You’ll never get a chance for that, my jolly mate! Twist me if I don’t think it’s an impudent piece of business—your wishing to board my ship, when I’m not willing you should!”
“Why, you villain!” roared Briggs, perfectly furious; “you talk as though the vessel belonged to you. I’ll teach you better manners presently!”
“The craft is mine,” retorted the mutineer. “You and Captain Howard have enjoyed her and had the good of her for two years. Now, I take possession, and I doubt, were the ship alive, that she would not be mightily pleased with her change of owners. That’s equal rights!”
During this conversation, the boat had lessened, another fathom, the distance between it and the ship, and Captain Lark became aware that it was time to show a little resistance.
Accordingly, he ordered the three islanders to arm themselves with harpoons, and take their station at his side—a command which they obeyed with alacrity.
“And now,” said the chief mutineer, leveling his pistol at the head of the second mate, “you’ll have the goodness to tell your men to stop pulling. I do not care to have you any nearer, and the sooner you act according to my directions, the better will it be for you! If you object, I shall be obliged to send a bullet through your brains; but if, on the contrary, you comply, I shall leave you in unmolested possession of your boat. That’s equal rights!”