When all had taken their places, a long silence ensued. The shouts of the men below were now more plainly heard. It was evident that they were fast becoming drunk, and at any moment the expected attack might be made. Presently the noise below ceased.
“They are getting ready,” whispered the captain to George; “we shall have them up in another moment.”
His words had hardly been uttered, before they were made good by the sound of feet stealthily ascending the stairs.
“They think to take us unawares,” continued the captain. “They don’t suspect anything about the barricade.”
Presently there was a cry of surprise, followed by a volley of oaths. Then a light was struck, and the mutineers were seen trying to tear down the spars which blocked their passage.
“You had better leave off that, and go below!” shouted Captain Ranken. “We are prepared for you. If you attempt to remove those spars, you will take the consequences.”
“Let fly at them,” said a voice, which the captain recognised as that of Bostock, – “let fly at them, and particularly at that Dutchman.”
Half a dozen pistols were discharged, three of them directly levelled at Vander Heyden, who was standing close to the captain. He had a narrow escape. One of the bullets would have struck him in the heart if Captain Ranken had not at the moment changed his position, and it struck his epaulet. A second grazed his temple, the third was lodged in the partition behind him.
“Your blood be on your own heads!” cried the skipper. “Fire on them!” A general discharge followed, by which it was evident considerable execution was done. Several were seen to fall, and among them Bostock and Van Ryk; but whether these were killed or dangerously wounded did not appear. They were either able, however, to crawl down below, or were carried off by their companions.
“They got that hot and strong, sir,” remarked Rolfe; “I don’t think they’ll try it again.”
“It depends a good deal on whether the leaders are killed or severely wounded,” returned the captain. “As for Bostock, you hit him fairly, Mr Vander Heyden. The bullet struck him below the hip. But whether it was a slight or a severe wound, I can’t say.”
“I think it was only a flesh wound,” rejoined the Dutchman. “The other fellow – Van Ryk, his name is, I believe – was more seriously hurt, I fancy.”
“I hope he is. If those two men should be silenced, we needn’t be afraid of the others. Well, we are safe for the night, I think, and we must hope that help will come to-morrow.”
The captain’s words were so far made good, that the rest of the night passed in quiet. The forenoon of the next day was a time of great anxiety, which no one felt so keenly as the captain. He knew that if Wyndham did not return, it could be only because some accident had happened to his boat, or because he had been unable to obtain any help in Mossel Bay, and had been compelled to go overland to Cape Town. The distance thither from Mossel Bay was more than two hundred miles, and the means of getting there not easy to procure. Even if he could find horses to carry him the whole distance, it would probably take him a day or two to reach the town. Then, no doubt, a vessel would be fitted with as little delay as possible. But probably two or three days more must elapse before it could reach the reef.
Altogether, it was not unlikely that a full week would pass, during which they would have to remain in their present situation, unless, indeed, they could attract the attention of some passing vessel. As the hours went by, the captain grew more and more despondent; and at last it became only too evident that Wyndham’s speedy return could not be looked for.
“We are in for this, Rivers,” he said, as they stood together on deck, looking anxiously toward shore, half an hour or so before sunset; “unless we are picked up by some ship, we may have to stay a week on this reef, and there is no disguising that, if it should be so, our lives are in the greatest danger.”
“Do you apprehend a storm coming on, sir?” asked Rivers.
“I see no signs of that, though in this climate the changes of weather are so rapid that one is never secure for six hours together; but that is not what I am afraid of. These men will get desperate – the ringleaders, that is. They know there is a rope round their necks in consequence of last night’s work, and they will get away from the reef at all hazards before Wyndham’s return, if by possibility they can.”
“I don’t see how they can force their way on deck in the face of our fire, any more than they did last night, sir; I don’t see how they could remove the barricade either.”
“They might contrive to cut the ropes which hold one of the spars,” said the captain, – “that is, if they could work in the dark. But I shall take care that the passage is kept lighted all night, so they won’t attempt that I think they will try to blow up the hatchways. They have got plenty of powder, and it would not be a difficult thing to do. They would lose some men in forcing their way up; but their numbers so greatly exceed ours, that, once on deck, we should have no chance with them.”
“You think all the ship’s company will go along with Bostock and Van Ryk, then?”
“I am a good deal afraid of it. I don’t think they’d have done this of their own heads. But these two rascals are exceedingly clever, and will, I have no doubt, make out a plausible story. They will persuade the poor fellows that, if they are caught, they will be charged with mutiny for what has been done already. They’ll tell them it is their only hope to get off the reef before help comes, and they must cut all our throats to accomplish that.”
“And we can’t take to the boats, and be gone ourselves?”
“That is what the Dutchman proposed yesterday. But I then pointed out that we cannot get at the long-boat without exposing ourselves to the fire of the mutineers. Nor would they, of course, let us repair the other boat, even if she could be repaired. I only guessed then that they would attack us. It is unfortunately only too certain now. We should simply be playing their game. If they could overpower us, or, in plain English, murder us, they would no doubt go off in the three boats, or make a raft, if the boats would not hold them all. But while we remain here, that would be impossible.
“No,” resumed the captain presently; “we must go on as we have begun. It really looks as though the men were unable to devise any plan of attacking us; in which case it is most probable that they will submit, and throw themselves upon my mercy. It is only against a few, you see, that direct mutiny can be proved. Nor have I quite given up the hope that Wyndham may have found a ship at Mossel Bay, though her sailing may have been delayed. Perhaps the men also are reckoning on the possibility of that, and will not commit themselves further, until they feel sure that he will have to go on to Cape Town for help. But all that we can do is to keep a bright look-out, and be ready for action at a moment’s notice. I shall go and lie down now for two or three hours, as I feel quite worn out; but I shall trust to you, Rivers, to rouse me if there should be the slightest necessity. You are the only man on board I can thoroughly trust, for, though Rolfe and McCarthy are good fellows, they are not equal to an emergency. But you know what you are about.”
They parted. George took a turn or two up and down the deck, apparently buried in thought. Then he laid aside his cutlass and pistols, put on a