Paul Gerrard Part 7

"Vengeance! vengeance!" was the cry.

The first-lieutenant who ventured among them was cut down, and while yet breathing, hove overboard. Others who appeared met with the same fate.

The mutineers then rushed to the captain's cabin. He stood fiercely at bay, but in vain. Bleeding from countless wounds, he was forced through the stern port. His last words were, "Vengeance! vengeance! vengeance!"

Fearfully it was paid.

CHAPTER FOUR.

The deed of blood was not yet completed, although we would fain avoid entering more minutely than is necessary into the horrible details of the ma.s.sacre which followed the death of the captain. It is a proof of the evil pa.s.sions which dwell within the bosoms of men, and shows how those pa.s.sions may be worked up by tyranny and injustice to make men commit deeds at which, in their calmer moments, their minds would revolt. Many of the victims struggled manfully for their lives. Among the officers was a young mids.h.i.+pman. He was fighting bravely by the side of one of the lieutenants, who was at length cut down.

"Will you swear not to utter a word of what you have seen done to-day?"

exclaimed Nol Hargraves, a quartermaster, who was one of the leaders of the mutineers, if any could be called leaders, where all seemed suddenly inspired by the same mad revengeful spirit. The brave boy, as he stood leaning on his sword, looked undaunted at Hargraves and at those standing round him.

"Swear--no!" he exclaimed. "If I live to see you brought to justice, as you will be some day, I will say that you were cowardly murderers of your officers; that you killed sleeping men; that you threw others, still alive, overboard, and that you murdered the surgeons who had cured the wounded, and tended the sick like brothers. I'll say that you butchered one of my helpless messmates--a poor boy younger than myself; I'll--!"

"Overboard with him--overboard!" exclaimed Hargraves, who had just cut down the lieutenant, and seemed like a tiger, which having once tasted blood, thirsts for more.

The mids.h.i.+pman, already fatigued and wounded, raised his weapon to defend himself. Hargraves rushed at the boy, who in an instant afterwards lay writhing at his feet.

"Heave the carcase overboard. It is the way some of us have been treated, you know that, mates," he exclaimed, throwing the yet palpitating form of the boy into the sea, when it was eagerly seized on by the ravenous sharks, waiting for their prey supplied by the savage cruelty of man. Many even of the mutineers cried, "Shame! shame!"

Hargraves turned fiercely round on them--

"Ye none of you cried shame when the captain did the same--cowards! why did ye not do it then? Were the lives of our brave fellows of less value than the life of that young cub?"

The men were silenced, but the eyes of many were opened, and they began from that moment bitterly to repent the cruel deed of which they had been guilty. Oh! if they could have recalled the dead, how gladly would they have done so,--their officers, who, if they had sometimes acted harshly, were brave men and countrymen; even the captain, tyrant as he was, they wished that they could see once more on his quarter-deck, with the dreadful scene which had been enacted wiped away; but the deed had been done--no power could obliterate it. They had been partic.i.p.ators in the b.l.o.o.d.y work. It stood recorded against them in the imperishable books of Heaven. Blood had been spilt, and blood was to cry out against them and to demand a dreadful retribution.

The mutinous crew stood gazing stupidly at each other; the helm had been deserted, the wind had fallen, the sails were flapping lazily against the masts, and the s.h.i.+p's head was going slowly round and round towards the different points of the compa.s.s. Hargraves and others felt that something must be done; there was no safety for them while their frigate floated on the broad ocean. What if they should fall in with another British man-of-war? What account could they give of themselves? Some were for scuttling her and saying that she had foundered, while they had escaped in the boats, but the boats would not hold them all, and could they trust each other? What likelihood that all would adhere to the same tale? Was it probable that all the crew should have escaped, and not an officer with them? The boats might separate, to be sure, but to what lands could they direct their different courses? On what sh.o.r.e, inhabited by countrymen, dared they place their feet without fear of detection? Discussions loud and long took place. It was agreed that the s.h.i.+p should be carried to a Spanish port; sold, if the sale could be effected, and with the proceeds and with such valuables as the murdered officers possessed, they would separate in various directions, and by changing their names, avoid all chance of discovery.

But while these dreadful events were occurring, what had become of those who had been so lately rescued from a terrible fate on the raft? Had they suffered one still more terrible by the hands of their own countrymen? Paul Gerrard was asleep in his hammock when he heard a voice calling him. It was that of old James Croxton.

"Turn out, Paul," he said, "there is some fearful work going forward on deck, and I know not who may be the sufferers. We may save some of them, though."

Paul was on his feet and dressed in an instant.

"What is to be done?" he asked.

"Mr Devereux is in danger; we might save him," said the old man. "The people are gone mad. Come along."

Paul followed Croxton to the sick bay. Devereux had heard the disturbance, and from the expressions uttered by the men as they pa.s.sed, feared that an attack was being made on the officers of the s.h.i.+p. He was endeavouring to get up for the purpose of joining the officers, and sharing their fate, whatever that might be. O'Grady was still asleep.

Croxton guessed what Devereux was about to do.

"It's of no use, sir--they'll only murder you with the rest," he whispered: "you must keep out of their way till they're cool. Rouse up Mr O'Grady, Paul, and come along."

Saying this, the old man, with a strength scarcely to be expected, lifted up Devereux, and carried, rather than led him, down to the hold.

Paul, meantime, had awakened O'Grady, who, though not comprehending what had occurred, followed him mechanically. The two mids.h.i.+pmen found themselves stowed away in total darkness among chests and casks containing stores of various sorts.

"The crew have mutinied, there's no doubt about that," answered old Jim to an inquiry made by Devereux; "but we will go and face them, they will not harm either the boy or me. Don't you speak, though, or make the slightest sound; they'll think that you are hove overboard with the rest."

These words confirmed the mids.h.i.+pmen's worst apprehensions. They had no time to ask questions, before the old man, taking Paul by the hand, hurried away. Paul and his companion reached the deck un.o.bserved. The mutineers were all too eager in the desperate work in which they had engaged to remark them. At that moment Paul saw his friends Reuben Cole and the young Frenchman, Alphonse, with some of the inferior and petty officers, dragged forward by the mutineers. Hargraves was the chief speaker.

"What is to be done with these?" he asked, turning round to his companions in crime.

"Serve them like the rest," shouted some.

"Dead men tell no tales," muttered others.

"We've had enough of that sort of work," cried the greater number. "No more bloodshed! Let them swear to hold their tongues and do as we bid them."

"You hear what is proposed," said Hargraves, gruffly. "Will you fellows take your lives on these terms?"

"Not I, for one, ye murderous villains," exclaimed Reuben Cole, doubling his fists and confronting the mutineers. "I'll take nothing at your hands, but I'm very certain that there are plenty of men aboard here who'll not stand idly by and see me butchered on that account. As to peaching on you, I'm not going to do that, but you'll not get another word out of me about the matter."

Had Hargraves had his way, it would have fared ill with honest Reuben; but the latter had not wrongly estimated the support he was likely to receive from his new s.h.i.+pmates, whose goodwill he knew that he had gained.

"Reuben Cole is not the man to peach, even if he has the chance,"

shouted several of them.

"No fear; he'll prove true to us, and so will the little Mounseer there; won't you?" asked one, turning to Alphonse. "We couldn't afford to lose you and your fiddle, especially just now, when we shall want something to keep up our spirits."

Alphonse, not comprehending what was said, made no reply. His silence was construed into contumacy, and some of Hargraves' adherents laid hands on him, and appeared as if they were about to throw him overboard, when Paul shouted out to him in French what was said. Alphonse very naturally had no scruples to overcome. He could only look on the fate of the captain as a just retribution on his tyranny.

"Oh, yes, yes! I play the fiddle," he exclaimed; "I go get it--I play for you all."

Not waiting for an answer, he ran towards the nearest hatchway, and pa.s.sing near Paul, inquired for Devereux and O'Grady.

"Safe," whispered Paul, and the young Frenchman dived below.

He speedily returned with his faithful violin, and without waiting to be asked, began to play. The hearts of all his hearers were too heavy to allow them to be influenced as under other circ.u.mstances they would have been by the music, but it served in a degree to calm their fierce pa.s.sions, and to turn them from their evil intentions. Of the princ.i.p.al officers of the s.h.i.+p the master alone had hitherto escaped destruction.

He was no coward. He had seen with horror the murder of his messmates and captain, but life was sweet, and when offered to him, even on terms degrading, undoubtedly--that he would navigate the s.h.i.+p into an enemy's port--he accepted them. The few warrant and petty officers who had escaped being killed, at once declared their intention of acting as the master had done.

"It's fortunate for you, mates, that you don't belong to the brood who grow into captains," exclaimed Hargraves, fiercely. "I, for one, would never have consented to let you live if you had."

Paul trembled for the fate of his friends when he heard these expressions, for Hargraves looked like a man who would put any threats he might utter into execution. Order was somewhat restored, officers were appointed to keep watch, and the s.h.i.+p was put on the course for the port to which it was proposed she should be carried. The crew had once been accustomed to keep a sharp look-out for an enemy; they now kept a still more anxious watch to avoid any British cruiser which might approach them. Day and night they were haunted with the dread of meeting their countrymen. Paul overheard some of the ringleaders consulting together.

"There are only two things to be done; if we can't run from them, to fight it out to the last, or to kill all those who won't swear to be staunch, and to declare that they died of fever," said one of them in a low, determined voice.

"Ay, that's the only thing for it," growled out another; "I'm not going to swing for nothing, I've made up my mind."

"Swing! who talks of swinging? None of that, Tom," exclaimed a third, in uneasy tones.

"It's what one and all of us will do, mates, if we don't look out what we're about," said Hargraves, who was waiting for an opportunity of pressing his plans on his companions. "We have let too many of them live as it is, and it's my opinion there's no safety for any of us as long as one of them breathes. I've heard tell what the old pirates used to do to make men faithful. They didn't trust to oaths--not they--but they made those who said they were ready to join them shoot their s.h.i.+pmates who refused. That's what we must do, mates; it's the only secure way, you may depend on't."

Paul was convinced that the men spoke in earnest, and afraid of being discovered should he remain, he crept stealthily away. He searched about till he found Croxton and Reuben, and told them at once what he had heard and feared.

"There's little doubt but that you are right, Paul," said old Croxton, after meditating for some time. "We thought that we were fortunate in getting on board this s.h.i.+p, and now, to my mind, we shall be fortunate to get out of her. I'm afraid for poor Mr Devereux and Mr O'Grady.

It will go hard with them if they're discovered."

"I have it," said Reuben, after thinking for some time--speaking in a low voice--"We must leave this cursed s.h.i.+p and carry off the two young gentlemen. I'd sooner be on the raft out in the Atlantic, than aboard of her."