But the only answer I got was the one word "Rum," uttered with a jerky emphasis, and taken up by Dan, who said—
"Very rum, and a good many drunk below, or I don't know the taste of it."
The obvious thought that the yacht we had sought and run down was without living men upon her decks had taken the lilt from the seamen's merry tongues, and a gloom settled on us all. Perhaps it was more than a mere surmise, for an uncanny feeling of something dreadful to come took hold of me, and I feared that, finding the yacht, we had also found the devil's work; but I held my peace on that, and made up my mind to act.
"Skipper," said I, "order a boat out; I'm going aboard her."
He looked at me, and shook his head.
"When the wind falls, perhaps; but now!" and he shrugged his shoulders.
"Is there any sign that the breeze will drop?"
"None at present; but I'll tell you more in an hour. Meanwhile," and here he whispered, "get your pistols out and say nothing to the men. I shall follow her."
His advice was wise; and as the dark began to fall and the night breeze to blow fresh, while the yacht ahead of us swung here and there, almost making circles about us, we hove to for the time and watched her. I begged Mary to go below, but she received the suggestion with merriment.
"Go below, when the men say there's fun coming! Why should I go below?"
"Because it may be serious fun."
She took my arm, and linking herself closely to me as to a brother, she said—
"Because there's danger to you and to Roderick; isn't that it, Mark?"
"Not to us any more than to the men; and there may be no danger, of course. It's only a thought of mine."
"And of mine, too. I shall stay where I am, or Roderick will go to sleep."
"What does Roderick say?"
He had joined us on the starboard side, and was gazing over the sea at the pursued yacht, which lay shaking dead in the wind's eye, but Mary's question upset whatever speculation he had entered upon.
"I've got an opinion," he drawled, with a yawn.
"You don't say so——"
"The wind's falling, and it's getting beastly dark."
"Two fairly obvious conclusions; do you think you could keep sufficiently awake to help man the boat?—in another ten minutes we shall see nothing."
"Do you think I'm a fool, that I'm going to stop here?"
"Forgive me, but I'm getting anxious. Martin Hall sailed on that yacht; and I promised to help him—but there's no need for you to do anything, you know."
"No need when you are going—pshaw, I'll fetch my Colt, and Mary shall watch us. I don't think she is afraid of much, are you, Rats?"—he called her "Rats" because they were the one thing on earth she feared—and then he went below, and I followed him, getting my revolver and my oil-skins, for I knew that it would be wet work. I had scarce reached the deck again when I felt the schooner moving; but no break of light showed the place where the other was, and the skipper called presently for a blue flare, which cast a glowing light for many hundred yards, and still left us uncertain.
"She's gone, for sure," said Dan to the men around him, for every soul on board, even including old Chasselot—called by the men "Cuss-a-lot"—our cook, was staring into the thick night; "and I wouldn't stake a noggin that her crew ain't cheated the old un at last an' gone down singing. It's mighty easy to die with your head full o' rum, but I don't go for to choose it meself, not particler."
Billy Eightbells, the second mate, was quite of Dan's opinion. The looks of the others told me then that they began to fear the adventure. Billy was the first really to give expression to the common sentiment.
"Making bold to speak," he said, "it were two years ago come Christmas as I met something like this afore, down Rio way——"
"Was it at eight bells, Billy?" asked Mary mischievously. She knew that all Billy's yarns began at eight bells.
"Well, I think it were, mum, but as I was saying——"
"Flash again," said the skipper, suddenly interrupting the harangue, and as the blue light flashed we saw right ahead of us the wanderer we sought; but she was bearing down upon us, and there was fear in the skipper's voice when he roared—
"For God's sake, hard a-starboard!"
The helm went over, and the yacht loomed up black, as our own light died away; and passed us within a cable's length. What lift of the night there was showed us her decks again; but they were not deserted, for as one or two aboard gave a great cry, I saw the white and horridly distorted face of a man who clung to the main shrouds—and he alone was guardian of the wanderer.
The horrid vision struck my own men with a deadly fearing.
"May the Lord help us!" said Dan.
"And him!" added Piping Jack solemnly.
"Was he alive, d'you think?" asked Dan.
"It's my opinion he'd seen something as no Christian man ought to see. Please God, we all get to port again!"
"Please God!" said half-a-dozen; and their words had meaning.
For myself, my thoughts were very different. That vision of the man I had left well and hopeful and strong not three days since was terrible to me. A brave man had gone to his death, but to what a death, if that agonised face and distorted visage betokened aught! And I had promised to aid him, and was drifting there with the schooner, raising no hand to give him help.
"Skipper," I cried, "this time we'll risk getting a boat off; I'm going aboard that vessel now, if I drown before I return." Then I turned to the men, and said: "You saw the yacht pass just now, and you saw that man aboard her—he's my friend, and I'm going to fetch him. Who amongst you is coming with me?"
They hung back for a moment before the stuff that was in them showed itself; then Dan lurched out, and said—
"I go!"
Billy Eightbells followed.
"And I," said he, "if it's the Old One himself."
"And I," said Piping Jack.
"And I," said Planks, the carpenter.
"Come on, then, and take your knives in your belts. Skipper, put about and show another light."
He obeyed mechanically, saying nothing; but he was a brave man, I knew. It was our luck to find that the boat went away from the davits with no more than a couple of buckets of water in her; and in two minutes' time the men were giving way, and we rose and fell to the still choppy sea, while the green spray ran from our oilskins in gallons. In this way we made a couple of hundred yards in the direction we judged the yacht would turn, and lit a flash. It showed her a quarter of a mile away, jibbing round and coming into the wind again.
"We shall catch her on the tack if she holds her bearing," said Dan, "and be aboard in ten minutes."
"What then?" said Billy.
"Ay, what then?" echoed the others.
"But it's a friend of the guv'nor's," repeated Dan, "and he's in danger—no common danger, neither. Please God, we all get to port again."
"Please God!" they responded, and Roderick, who sat at the tiller with me, whispered—
"I never saw men who liked a job less."
As the good fellows gave way again, and the boat rode easily before the wind, I noticed for the first time that the clouds were scattering; and we had not made another cable's length when a great cloud above us showed silver at its edges, and opaquely white in its centre, through which the moon shone. Anon it dissolved, and the transformation on the surface of the water was a transformation from the