"Give him one for himself if he says too much, Mr. Royle!" sung out some hoarse voice on the main-deck, "we'll back yer!" And then came cries of "They're a cursed pair o' murderers!" "Who run the smack down?" "Who lets men drown?" "Who starves honest men?" This last exclamation was followed by a roar.
The whole of the crew were now on deck, having been aroused by our voices. Some of them were looking on with a grin; others with an expression of fierce curiosity. It was at once understood that I was making a stand against the captain and chief mate, and a single glance at them assured me that by one word I could set the whole of them on fire to do my bidding even to shedding blood.
In the mean time the man at the wheel had luffed until the weather leeches were flat and the ship scarcely moving. And at this moment, that the skipper might know their meaning, a couple of hands jumped aft and let go the weather main-braces. I took care to keep my eyes on Coxon and the mate, fully prepared for any attack that one or both might make on me. Duckling eyed me furiously, but in silence, evidently baffled by my resolute air and the posture of the men. Then he said something to the captain, who looked exhausted and white and haggard with his useless passion. They walked over to the lee-side of the poop, and after a short conference the captain, to my surprise, went below, and Duckling came forward.
"There's no objection," he said, "to your saving the man's life, if you want. Lower away the starboard quarter-boat, and you go along in her," he added to me, uttering the last words in such a thick voice that I thought he was choking.
"Come along, some of you," I cried out, hastily putting on my coat; and in less than a minute I was in the boat with the rudder and thole-pins shipped and four hands ready to out oars as soon as we touched the water.
Duckling began to fumble at one of the boat's falls.
"Don't let him lower away!" roared out one of the men in the boat. "He'll let us go with a run. He'd like to see us drownded."
Duckling fell back scowling with fury, and, shoving his head over as the boat sank quietly into the water, he discharged a volley of execrations at us, saying that he would shoot some of us, if he swung for it, before he was done; and especially applying a heap of abusive terms to me.
The fellow pulling the bow oar laughed in his face, and another shouted out, "We'll teach you to say your prayers yet, you ugly old sinner!"
We got away from the ship's side cleverly, and in a short time were rowing fast for the wreck. The excitement under which I laboured made me reckless of the issue of this adventure. The sight of the lonely man upon the wreck, coupled with the unmanly, brutal intention of Coxon to leave him to his fate, had goaded me into a state of mind infuriate enough to have done and dared everything to compel Coxon to save him. He might call it mutiny, but I called it humanity, and I was prepared to stand or fall by my theory. The hate the crew had for their captain and chief mate was quite strong enough to guarantee me against any foul play on the part of Coxon, otherwise I might have prepared myself to see the ship fill and stand away and leave us alone on the sea with the wreck. One of the men in the boat suggested this; but another immediately answered: "They'd pitch the skipper overboard if he gave such an order, and glad o' the chance. There's no love for 'em among us, I can tell you, and by ---- there'll be bloody work done aboard the Grosvenor if things aren't mended soon, as you'll see."