Ran Away to Sea Part 28

What this intelligence was I could not tell, nor indeed, should I have taken notice of the indications of its existence, had it not been for what occurred afterwards. I observed them now and then whispering to one another; as they did so casting side-glances towards Brace and myself. At other times I caught now one, and now another, gazing upon me, and with a wild wolfish look, that rendered me, though I could not tell why, singularly uneasy. I noticed that they appeared as if they did not like to be detected while thus looking at me; and ever as I returned their glances they suddenly lowered their eyes or averted their faces. They then appeared as men who have been detected in some mean or guilty action.

As it appeared to me that they looked in a similar manner at my companion, and at one another as well, I fancied that the strange expression that had struck me must be one characteristic of extreme hunger, and I thought no more about it.

On the following day, however, I observed that the whispering among them increased; and was accompanied with a greater variety of gesticulation and excitement.

Brace also noticed it, and guessed better than I what all this freemasonry meant--at least he was nearer the truth, for he was still ignorant of the full purpose of those ruffian conspirators.

He whispered to me what he supposed they were after--with the design of breaking the terrible truth to me as gently as possible. But I had now better than half divined it, and his communication did not startle me.

"Some one got to die, lad. I s'pose they're talkin' o' castin' lots who it'll be--well, we must take our chance along with the rest."

Just as Brace had finished his speech one of the men rose up upon the raft; and, calling the attention of the others, begged to make a proposal to them.

The speech by which he introduced his proposal was brief, indeed, and to the point. In fact, he came to the proposition almost at once, which was simply--that one of the party must die to save the rest--that they had still water--but no food; and all must perish unless they could eat--that they could not eat unless--

But I cannot repeat the dread arguments which he made use of, brief though they were--for his speech was short, and, having delivered it, he sat down again.

There was a short pause, and then another rose and addressed the crowd.

This man coincided in the views of him who had spoken, and added to the proposal a suggestion for carrying it out--that was, that the one who was to die should be chosen by lot. This, of course, both Brace and myself expected. It was not likely that any one was going to volunteer.

What was my terror, and the anger and alarm of my companion, when one of the strongest and most brutal of the whole crew--the ruffian Le Gros-- rose up, and in a loud and serious tone, not only objected to drawing lots, but proposed me for the victim!

Brace sprang instantly to his feet, and uttered a cry of indignation.

It was expected that this cry would have been echoed by the others; and with almost any other band of men upon the face of the earth or the face of the ocean, such would have been the reception of the foul proposal.

But both my companion and I soon perceived, with dismay, that there came no such echo from that ruffian crew. On the contrary, several backed the proposal itself, and in such majority--I might almost say unanimity, that it was plain that most of the men who spoke had already predetermined the case. It was evident, from their prompt acquiescence, that they had been prepared for it; and this accounted for that mysterious whispering that had been carried on during the preceding day.

Some few, evidently, had not been in the secret; but these were weak individuals, whose opposition would not have been regarded, and who, indeed, appeared ready enough to chime in with the majority.

The French bully went on to justify his proposition by argument. We were not all equal, he said--there were able seamen--and common sailors--and I was but a boy. Why should I have a chance like the rest?

It was preposterous.

Brace opposed his arguments--appealed to the crew--to their sense of justice and fair play--let lots be cast, said he, and let him take his chance with the rest--that was the only fair and honest mode--the only way worthy of men.

Bah! these were not men. One and all were but too glad to grasp at any means that would deliver them from the perilous raffle. The sophistic arguments of Le Gros satisfied them. The infamous motion prevailed. It was decreed that I should die!

CHAPTER SIXTY SIX.

Yes--it was decreed that I should die.

The time and the mode alone remained to be determined; but these points were soon settled. For the former it was to be then--instantly--and as to the mode, I was to be bled to death!

These resolves were made with a despatch that allowed no time for reflection--scarcely time for speech or protestation. The ferocious wolves were eager for their prey.

It was their determination to act promptly to the time; for, without further hesitation, half-a-dozen of the most forward in the business advanced towards me--evidently with the intent to put their design into execution!

And, beyond a doubt, they would have done it--had I been alone and unprotected--beyond a doubt they would have killed and eaten me! But I was not alone--I was not without a protector. As the fierce cannibals advanced, Brace sprang between them and me, and drawing his clasp-knife, threatened to cut down the first who should lay a finger upon me.

"Off!" cried he, "off, you cowardly swabs! Lay your hand upon the lad, and I'll make mince-meat o' ye. He may be the first to be eaten, but he arn't the first that'll die for it--there's more than one o' ye'll have to kick the bucket afore he does. Blowed if thar arn't! So now ye cowardly hounds! come on if you dare."

The dastards, cowed by the intrepid bearing of Brace, halted in their advance and hung back--though no one of them ventured a reply. They seemed to have been taken by surprise; for although they knew that Brace opposed the design, they had no idea he would attempt to struggle against the whole crew. Surprise, therefore, held them back, mingled with some little fear--for the determined att.i.tude which Brace had taken, and the shining blade of his knife, promised death to some of them; and, as each feared it might be himself, no one desired to be the foremost.

I had thrown myself alongside my brave protector, resolving to do battle and die by his side--though not much could my puny arm have effected against the host of strong ferocious men who a.s.sailed us. Still it would be better to die thus, than to be butchered in cold blood; and under this belief I nerved myself for the encounter.

At this crisis a change appeared to take place in the att.i.tude of my companion: some new thought had struck him; and, waving his hand in a peculiar manner--which signified to our antagonists that he had some proposal to make--he succeeded in obtaining silence. He then addressed them as follows:--"Comrades! arn't it too bad there should be quarrelling atween us at such a time as this, when we're all in trouble alike?"

Brace's late tone of defiance had changed to one of half entreaty, and it was evident he was about to propose some compromise. Indeed, it would have been madness in him to have carried the conflict farther, as it could only have resulted in the death of us both.

"Comrades!" he continued, "it's a dreadful thing to die, but I know that some one must be made a sacrifice for the rest, and that are better than we should all go. Ye must know then when this thing happens it be the usual way to draw lots about it."

"We shan't have it that way!" cried one, adding to his response the emphasis of an oath.

"Well, then," continued Brace, without losing his pacific demeanour, "since you're agreed that it shan't be that way, and that the boy must be the first, and since you're all agreed to it, it's no use o' me standin' in the way. I agree to it wi' the rest."

I was startled at the words, and involuntarily turned my eyes upon the face of the speaker. Was he serious? was he really about to give me up?

to surrender me into the hands of those ruthless men?

He took no notice of me; and his unflinching att.i.tude, and glance still bent in the same direction, told me that he had not yet done speaking.

"But," said he after pause, "with these conditions."

"What conditions?" asked several, interrupting him.

"Why only this," replied Brace, "that the boy be let live till the morning. I only ask for him till the sun rises; and then if there be no sail in sight, ye can do as ye please. It's only fair the lad should have a chance for his life; and if you don't agree to give him this chance," continued the speaker, once more placing himself in a determined att.i.tude, "if you don't, then all I've got to say is, that I'll fight for the lad as long as I can stand over him, and if he be first ate he won't be first killed--that I can promise ye. Now?"

Brace's speech produced the desired effect. His auditory, though reluctantly, agreed to the proposal. Even those heartless fiends could not help acknowledging that it was no more than fair; but, perhaps, the determined and resolute bearing of my protector--as he stood, drawn up and ready, with that keen blade shining in his strong, firm grasp--had more influence upon their decision than any feeling of fair play.

Whether or not, the reprieve was granted; and those who had been menacing my life drew back--though still muttering their discontent--and shrunk once more into their places.

CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN.

I can ill describe the emotions that agitated my bosom. Though delivered from the terror of immediate death, there was nothing in the respite to give me any feeling of joy. It would be only a short procrastination of my doom, for certainly in the morning I must die.

The slender chances of our seeing a sail were scarce worth contemplating; and I derived no consolation by dwelling upon such a contingency.

My fate, therefore, I looked upon as sealed. My protector could not save me. He had done the utmost in his power, in procuring the reprieve that was to give me this slight chance for my life. If it failed, he would undoubtedly have to keep his word and surrender me up.

I felt as the condemned criminal whose hour of execution has been fixed, and who knows it--with perhaps, only the difference that I could look forward to the event with a clear conscience. I felt not as a criminal, but a victim--a martyr among ruffians.

Of course I thought not of sleep--all sleep was banished from my eyelids. With such a prospect before me how could I sleep? Sadly at that crisis did I think of home, of parents, and kindred. Bitterly did I repent that I ever ran away to sea!

Alas! like many others who have acted disobediently and rashly--my experience had been too dearly purchased--my repentance came too late.

To-morrow by sunrise must I die; and oh! such a dreadful doom! My fate would never be known; for, though I was made a sacrifice, it was not likely that my executioners would long survive me. The chances that any of them would ever reach land were slight indeed; and, even if they should, it was not likely they would ever divulge that secret. I should never more be heard of; neither friends or kindred would ever know my sad fate, and it would be better that they should not. Oh! it was a dreadful doom!

Suffering under such reflections, I lay stretched along the plank; my protector was still by my side--so near that our shoulders touched, and our heads were close together--I could have heard anything he might have said, though uttered only in a whisper; but for a long time he did not address a word to me. He appeared to be busied with his own thoughts-- as if buried in some deep cogitation--and did not desire to be spoken to. Noticing this, I too remained silent.