Captain Calamity Part 3

His opinion of Captain Calamity had touched zero by now, and he hardly troubled to conceal his contempt. He, like the remainder of the _Hawk's_ company, knew that she was engaged on a privateering expedition, and was eager to "taste blood." And it must be admitted that Calamity had induced many of the men to ship with him by holding out promises of fat bonuses, with, perhaps, the opportunity of a little plundering thrown in. Now, when chance had thrown what appeared to be a rich prize under their very noses, the skipper was calmly letting it slip through his fingers.

It was pretty obvious that the mate's resentment was shared by the crew.

For the last half-hour they had lined the bulwarks, watching the Germans transfer their plunder from the liner. Every man-Jack of them felt certain that, in the course of a very short time, that same plunder would find its way on board the _Hawk_ with material benefit to themselves. When, however, it was seen that the Captain had no intention of carrying out their notion, scowling faces were turned towards the bridge, and there were angry mutterings. Soon the muttering grew louder, and at last one of the men, a huge serang, stepped out of the crowd, and shook his fist at Calamity, who was watching from the bridge.

Then, urged on by the others, he demanded that the ship should be put back to Singapore and the men discharged with a month's wages. They did not like, he said, being on a ship without knowing what port she was bound for. They did not like the officers, and, more than anything else, they did not like the Captain. The spokesman wound up his peroration in broken English by hinting that, unless the _Hawk_ was put about at once, the crew would take charge of her.

All this while Calamity had stood leaning on the bridge-rail, listening to the serang with an expression of quiet, almost anxious, attention.

The mate, watching him out of the corner of his eyes, saw no sign of that terrible berserker rage with which he had so often heard the Captain credited. In fact, a member of Parliament could not have listened to a deputation of const.i.tuents with more polite attention.

"I reckon if we don't do what they want they'll hand out some trouble,"

said the mate. "Them that ain't got one knife ready at their hips has got two."

Calamity made no answer, but a peculiar pallor had overspread his face.

He turned away from the bridge-rail, and, without any sign of haste, descended the companion-ladder and stepped calmly into the midst of the snarling rabble.

"What are you doing on deck?" he asked the serang quietly. "Your place is in the stokehold."

The man started to make an impudent reply, but before he had uttered two words the Captain had s.n.a.t.c.hed him off his feet as easily as if he had been a child and flung him bodily into the crowd of astonished men, knocking several of them over. Then, as the serang landed against a steam-winch with a terrible crash, Calamity s.n.a.t.c.hed up a capstan bar and dashed into the crowd.

Then the mate, standing on the bridge, witnessed such a spectacle as he had never seen before and devoutly hoped he would never see again.

Swinging the heavy iron bar above his head as though it were a flail, the Captain smashed left and right among the men, hitting them how and where he could--on the head, body, limbs--no matter where so long as he hit them. Two or three drew their knives and made a desperate rush at him, but there was no getting through the swinging circle of iron. In two minutes the forward deck bore a horrible resemblance to a shambles, for it was littered with injured men and blood was trickling down the white planks into the scuppers. Groans, shrieks, and curses resounded on all sides; the men scurried for shelter in every direction like rats, and two or three, reaching the forecastle, locked themselves in. But a couple of blows from the iron bar smashed the door to splinters and then cries rang out again and with them the sound of the terrible weapon as it crashed against a bulkhead or smashed a bunk to splinters. One man managed to escape out of the forecastle and was running for his life towards the p.o.o.p when Calamity, his face distorted with demoniac fury, flung the bar at him. It caught the man on the back of the head and he pitched forward on the deck, where he lay weltering in his own blood.

Then, without so much as a glance at the fearful havoc he had wrought, the Captain returned to the bridge.

"What were you saying before I left, Mr. d.y.k.es?" he inquired calmly.

"Er--I was saying that it looked as if the wind would change round to the nor' west before long, sir," answered the mate in a subdued and extremely respectful tone.

CHAPTER IV

THE CASTAWAYS

The following morning, at eight bells, those of the crew not on duty or on the sick-list were a.s.sembled upon the forward hatch. Many of them had heads or limbs in bandages, and they were as meek as little lambs. As the ship's bells were struck, Calamity mounted the bridge, accompanied by the mate, and walked up to the rail.

"I'm not going to waste my breath by telling such a crowd of doss-house and prison sc.u.m as you are what I think about you," he said in a harsh, grating voice, that seemed to emphasise the insults. "What I want to say is this: the first man who raises a murmur about anything or hesitates in carrying out an order, that man I'll string up at the end of a derrick with a hawser for a collar. And remember this: I like a cheerful crew, and if I see a man who doesn't look as cheerful as he ought, by G.o.d, I'll clap him in the bilboes. Now get out of my sight."

The Captain stepped back from the rail and turned to the mate.

"I always believe in exercising patience and in using persuasion, Mr.

d.y.k.es," he said. "If, however, we should have any more trouble--and I don't somehow think we shall--it will become necessary to deal drastically with the offenders."

Without waiting for a reply, he walked into the chart-room, leaving Mr.

d.y.k.es and the second-mate gasping.

"What in thunder would he call 'drastic,' I'd like to know?" inquired the former. "He's already maimed half the crew and calls that persuasion. The Lord stand between me and his persuading, that's all I say."

"He's a bloomin' knock-aht, swelp me Bob," replied the second-mate in a tone of subdued admiration. "I thought the yarns I'd heard about him was all kid, but now--help!"

Later on, when Mr. d.y.k.es conveyed his impressions to the chief engineer, the latter merely nodded without evincing the slightest surprise.

"I told ye he was a michty quare mon," he remarked calmly. "I wouldna advise ye to run athwart him even if ye've got liquor as an excuse."

"You bet I won't, not after this. I guess I'll have to load up pretty considerable on liquor before I try to hand him a song and dance."

"Talkin' about liquor, ye'll find a bottle o' rum under the pillow o' my bunk, Meester d.y.k.es. We'll jest have a wee drappie an' I'll tell ye hoo I marrit me fairst wife."

"Your first wife?" repeated the mate. "Say, how many have you had?"

"I couldna tell ye off-hand, mon. Ye see, the sairc.u.mstances in mony cases were compleecated, if ye ken me," answered McPhulach thoughtfully.

"Me fairst, now ..."

Mr. d.y.k.es listened for some time to the engineer's account of his matrimonial complications and then turned in. For the first time since leaving Singapore, he closed his eyes without an uneasy suspicion that he and the rest of the officers might have their throats cut before the morning. Indeed, the crew might henceforward have served as a model for the most exacting skipper that ever sailed the seas. The men could not have turned out for their respective watches with more prompt.i.tude had they been aboard a battleship, and their language on such occasions was such that even the boatswain's mate had no cause for complaint. And they were cheerful, laboriously cheerful. Whenever Calamity happened to approach a man, that man would start to hum a tune as if his life depended on it; he'd smile if he had a ten-thousand-horsepower toothache; everybody was happy, and only the ship's cat led a dog's life.

"It's a bloomin' wonder," said the second-mate to Mr. d.y.k.es, "that the old man don't put up a blighted maypole and make all us perishers dance round it."

For two days the _Hawk_ kept the smoke-trail of the German gunboat in view, but made no attempt to overhaul her. Every one agreed that the _Hawk_, with her four-inch guns, could sink the German. They were puzzled, therefore, as to the Captain's seeming reluctance to engage her. But never a word of wonder reached Calamity, never a hint or a question from his officers; every one was certain that he knew his business, or, if they weren't, carefully kept it to themselves. And the Captain himself vouchsafed no explanation.

On the third morning the look-out reported that the gunboat was chasing a large steamer. Immediately afterwards the men, even those who were not on watch, came tumbling up on deck, in the hope that at last they were going to sniff the promised booty. But not a word was spoken, not a man so much as glanced at the bridge where the skipper stood with his gla.s.ses focussed on the chase. They were patiently cheerful.

Presently there came the faint echo of a shot and the steamer lay-to, apparently waiting for the pirates to board her. At her stern fluttered the red ensign of the British Mercantile Marine.

The _Hawk_ had slowed down to quarter speed, and Calamity, through his gla.s.ses, continued to watch events. In a remarkably short s.p.a.ce of time the Germans transferred a portion of the cargo, whatever it might be, to their own vessel, after which the steamer was allowed to pursue her way.

One thing seemed clear, which was that the Germans cared less for sinking enemy ships than for laying hands on the more valuable and portable articles of cargo they happened to carry. The gunboat, having captured and dismissed her prey, continued on her course, and so also did the _Hawk_.

Calamity, no doubt, had fully developed his plans, but he appeared, also, to have developed a very bad memory. For the instructions accompanying his commission contained, among numerous other clauses, one which laid it down that "if any ship or vessel belonging to us or our subjects, shall be found in distress by being in fight, set upon, or taken by the enemy ... the commanders, officers, and company of such merchant ships as shall have Letters of Marque shall use their best endeavours to give aid and succour to all such ship and ships...."

Which, of course, for reasons known only to himself, the Captain of the _Hawk_ had not done, nor attempted to do.

The morning had been unusually hot, even for such lat.i.tudes, and, as the day advanced, the heat became almost unbearable. The pitch boiled and bubbled up between the deck-seams and the exposed paintwork became disfigured with huge blisters. An awning had been rigged up over the bridge, but, despite this and the fact that it was high above the decks, the atmosphere was like that of a super-heated bakehouse, dry and shimmering, nor was there a breath of wind to stir it. Occasionally a whiff of hot, oily vapour came up through the engine-room gratings and helped to make the air still more heavy and oppressive. Even the sea, calm as a pond, looked oily and hot under the glare of a burning noonday sun set in a sky of metallic blue.

Then, towards eight bells in the afternoon watch, a faint breeze sprang up; the sky changed imperceptibly from blue to grey, and the sun became a red, glowing disc with a slight haze round it. The sea had taken on a yellowish-green tint and angry little wavelets began to chase each other and to dash themselves viciously against the _Hawk's_ sides. Presently the breeze died away as suddenly as it had arisen, but the sky became more and more overcast and the wavelets grew into boulders, white-crested and threatening. The sun disappeared behind a bank of black, evil-looking clouds, while the atmosphere became still more oppressive and the decks and awnings steamed. A strange, uncanny silence had settled over everything, so that the least noise sounded curiously distinct. The throb of the engines, usually mellow and subdued, came now in sharp, staccato beats; the clang of the furnace-doors and the rattle of rakes and shovels in the stokehold could be plainly heard on the bridge.

"Strike me pink, if we ain't in for a bloomin' typhoon, a reg'lar rip-snorter," muttered the second-mate as he mopped his perspiring forehead.

The quartermaster set his teeth and gripped the wheel more tightly--something was going to happen. A moment later, Calamity stepped on to the bridge and gave a quick, comprehensive glance around him.

"Everything lashed up and made secure, Mr. Smith?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," answered the second, and added: "We're runnin' into a proper blazer; none of your bloomin' twopenny-ha'penny breezes this time."

Already the awnings had been taken in, spars and loose gear made fast, derricks secured, and ports screwed down. Every moment it grew darker and the _Hawk_ was beginning to roll in an uncomfortable fashion.

Suddenly the sky was split by a blinding flash of lightning followed by a crashing peal of thunder that seemed to shake the vessel from stem to stern. There was a moment's interval, during which rain-spots the size of pennies appeared on the deck and a grey haze settled over the sea.

Then came another flash of lightning, a terrific roar of thunder, and the storm burst in all its fury. The rain came down now in solid sheets of water, pouring off the bridge and deck-houses in cascades and flooding out the scuppers which could not drain it fast enough. The sea had gained in fury with the hurricane and now broke over the bulwarks, mounted the forecastle, and swept along the decks from bow to stern. One great wave even leapt up to the bridge, tearing away the awning spars, smashing the woodwork to splinters, and very nearly wrenching the wheel from the quartermaster's hands.