And, as he came to this conclusion, the worthy man softly opened his state-room door and stepped out on deck.
The night was dark, there being no moon, whilst the star-lit sky was almost blotted out by the squadrons of fleecy cloud which swept with stately motion athwart it. Yet there was light enough to reveal to the skipper a dark blot on the forecastle, which he knew to be a cluster of men; and toward these he hurriedly made his way. Before he could reach them, however, two bare-footed men stepped softly out behind him from the galley; and whilst one seized and pinioned his arms behind him, the other flourished a large-headed, short-handled hammer over his head whilst he whispered fiercely in the ear of the paralysed skipper:
“Give but a single outcry, and I’ll spatter your brains about the deck.” Then he added, somewhat more gently: “No harm is intended you, Captain Blyth, but we mean to have the ship. We will have her; and were you to raise an alarm it would only cause bloodshed, which we are most anxious to avoid. Where’s Nicholls? Here, Nicholls, this man is your prisoner; get the bilboes and clap them on him. And—mind—I shall hold you responsible for his safekeeping!”
“But—but—Williams,” stammered poor Captain Blyth, who now identified the speaker, “what is the meaning of all this? I—I—don’t understand it!”
“No time to explain now,” was the answer. “Tell you all about it later on if you care to hear. Come, lads, away aft with us, and let us secure our other prisoner!”
In obedience to this command, the mob of mutineers who had clustered about the door of the forward deck-house—into which the unfortunate skipper had been thrust—melted away, and Captain Blyth found himself left alone with his jailer and young Manners, the latter being bound hand and foot, and lying gagged in one of the bunks which had been vacated when the steerage passengers were drafted into the forecastle.
In the midst of his bewilderment and dismay the skipper still retained enough presence of mind to note, by the light of the single lantern which illuminated the place, that his young subordinate was suffering severe discomfort from the presence of the gag—a large belaying-pin—in his mouth; and, turning to the man Nicholls, he pointed out that, unless the crew wished to add the crime of murder to that of mutiny, it would be advisable to remove the gag at once.
“Well, sir,” said the man, civilly enough—he was one of the former steerage passengers—“I don’t know what to do about that. I’d be willing enough to take the thing out of the young gentleman’s mouth, but my orders are strict; and if anything was to happen through my meddling you may depend upon it I should be made to suffer for it.”
“If that is what you are afraid of, my good fellow,” said the skipper, “you may remove the gag at once. Nothing shall happen, I promise you. The crew have possession of the ship, safe enough; and, bound hand and foot as we two are, we can do nothing to recover her. So out with it at once, my man, unless you wish to see the poor lad suffocate before your eyes.”
This was enough; the gag was at once removed, the skipper at the same time cautioning Manners against any ill-timed attempt to raise an alarm, and then Nicholls was questioned as to the reasons for the mutiny.
“Well, sir,” was the reply, “I don’t rightly understand the ins and outs of the thing, myself; but Williams has been talkin’ to the men, and, accordin’ to his showin’, labourers and mechanics and sailors have been robbed and cheated out of their rights time out o’ mind. So the long and the short of it is that we’ve all took a solemn oath to stand by one another in an attempt to get what rightfully belongs to us.”
“What rightfully belongs to you?” exclaimed the skipper in bewilderment. “I don’t understand you, my man. You surely do not pretend to say that I have defrauded you of anything to which you are entitled? A certain amount of wages is, of course, due to you in respect of work already performed; but it is the custom to pay seamen only when they arrive at the port of discharge—”
“Oh, yes, sir; we understands all that, of course,” interrupted Nicholls. “It ain’t that at all, sir; it’s—”
Captain Blyth, however, was not destined to learn just then what “it” was, for at this point the conversation was broken in upon by the reappearance of a party of the mutineers, headed by Williams, and having poor Ned among them as a prisoner.
“There, Ned, there’s the skipper. In you go, my lad, and stow yourself alongside of him; and that will complete the party,” exclaimed Williams cheerfully, as he thrust the lad unceremoniously through the doorway of the deck-house. “Now take the gag out of his mouth,” he commanded; “but I caution you,” he continued sternly, addressing himself particularly to Ned, “that if either of you utter a single outcry I’ll blow his brains out without hesitation.” And as he spoke he drew from his pocket a revolver which he began deliberately to load.
“You are carrying things with a high hand, my fine fellow!” observed Captain Blyth fiercely; “but I warn you at once that you are only preparing a halter with which to hang yourself. The fact that something is wrong on board here will infallibly be discovered by the first man-of-war which falls in with us, and your punishment will speedily follow. Hear me, men,” he continued, raising his voice and addressing the crew generally; “I don’t in the least understand your motive for behaving in this extraordinary fashion; but cast me and my two mates adrift, and I promise you on my word of honour that I will listen patiently to whatever complaint you may have to make, and will redress any wrong which you can show has been done you.”
“Spare your breath, skipper,” answered Williams quietly. “We haven’t done this thing in a hurry, and we’re not to be talked out of it in a moment; and perhaps the sooner you understand that the better. No, sir; we’ve no fault to find with you or anybody else aboard here. The fault lies with them who’ve robbed, and cheated, and ground down the likes of us for centuries; and the time has now come when the few of us as belongs to this ship’s fo’c’s’le intend to help our selves to what we’ve as good a right as anybody to have. As to punishment, why, we’ve agreed to take our chances about that; and as to men-o’-war, how many have we fell in with, so far, this voyage? We’ll take our chances about them too. Josh Williams may be no scholar, cap’n, but he knows a thing or two—he knows enough to be able to take care of his own neck, and of the necks of them that trust him too.”
“My good fellow, you don’t in the least know what you are talking about!” exclaimed Captain Blyth.
“Enough said, sir—enough!” interrupted Williams. “All the talking in the world won’t undo what’s done. We’ve put our heads into the noose, but we’re not fools enough to sway away upon the yard-rope; so you may spare yourself the trouble of further talk, and us the trouble of listening to you. Now the present time is as good as any to tell you what our plans are so far as you are concerned; so please pay attention. We’re all hands averse to bloodshed, and we intend to work our business without it, if possible—you understand, if possible!—so, instead of cutting your throats and heaving you overboard, we’re going to land you, Captain Blyth, on some island or another where you’ll be able to pick up a living, but from which you won’t be likely to get away until long after we’ve done with the ship. Young Manners there we shall clap ashore on some other island four or five hundred miles away from you, skipper; and the passengers we shall put ashore somewhere else, where they’ll not be likely to get us into trouble or to send trouble after us. As for Ned, here, we intend to keep him with us to navigate the ship.”
“Do you?” ejaculated Ned. “Then understand at once and for all that I decline to remain with you. What! do you suppose I will mix myself up in any way or associate with a pack of rascally mutineers? I’ll see you all hanged first!”
“Well