The Flag of Distress Part 44

This is not the first time the subject has been before them. There has been talk of it all that day; though only between them in twos, and informally. Since finding out how things stood, and especially after his confab with the first mate, Striker, as promised, has been sounding his shipmates, one after another. He has communicated his purpose to all, and had their approval of it--the four Spaniards excepted. These he has not yet approached; but this night intends doing so--as the others insist that an immediate understanding be arrived at, and the thing definitely settled.

The five are now waiting till those on the watch, not required for deck-duty, come below. All of them have had intimation they will be wanted in the forecastle; and as the night is fine, with no occasion for changing sails or other occupation, only the helmsman need absent himself from a muster, whose summons to most of the second watch has appeared a little strange.

They obey it, notwithstanding; and after a while the two sailors come down--the nondescripts without name; though one goes by the sobriquet of "Old Tarry," the other having had bestowed upon him the equally distinctive, but less honourable, appellation of "Slush."

Shortly after, the second mate, Padilla, makes his appearance, along with him Velarde; the former a man who has seen some forty winters, rugged in frame, with bronzed complexion, and features forbidding, as any that ever belonged to freebooters; the latter in this respect not so unlike him, only younger, of a more slender frame, and less rude in speech, as in manner.

Soon as setting foot on the forecastle's floor, Padilla, as an officer of the ship, speaking in tone of authority, demands to know why they have been summoned thither.

Striker, putting himself forward as the spokesman of the off-watch, replies:

"Hadn't ye better sit down, master mate? The subjeck we're goin' to discuss may take a start o' time an' it's as cheap sittin' as standin'.

Maybe ye won't mind joinin' us in a drink?"

Saying this, the ex-convict clutches at the bottle pours some rum into his pannikin, and offers it to Padilla.

The Spaniard accepting, drinks; and pa.s.sing the cup to Velarde, sits down.

The latter imitating him as to the drink, takes seat by his side; Old Tarry and Slush having already disposed of themselves.

"Now," pursues the second mate, "let's hear what it's all about."

"Theer be two not yit among us," says Striker. "In coorse, one's at the wheel."

"Yes; Gomez is there," responds Padilla.

"Where be Hernandez?"

"I don't know. Likely, along with him."

"Don't much matter," puts in Davis. "I dar' say we can settle the thing without either. You begin, Jack; tell Mr Padilla, and the rest, what we've been talking about."

"'Twon't take a very long time to tell it," responds Striker. "Theer be no great need for wastin' words. All I've got to say are, that the _swag shud be eekilly divided_."

Padilla starts, Velarde doing the same.

"What do you mean?" asks the former, putting on an air of innocence.

"I means what I've saved--that the swag shud be eekilly divided."

"And yet I don't understand you."

"Yis, ye do. Come, Master Padilla, 'tain't no use shammin' ignorance-- not wi' Jack Striker, at all events. He be too old a bird to get cheated wi' chaff. If ye want to throw dust into my eyes, it must be o'

the sort that's stowed aft in the cuddy. Now, d'ye understan' me?"

Padilla looks grave, so does Velarde. Old Tarry and Slush show no sign of feeling; both being already prepared for the demand Striker intended to make, and having given their promise to back it.

"Well," says the second mate, "you appear to be talking of some gold-dust. And, I suppose, you know all about it!"

"That we do," responds Striker.

"Well, what then?" asks Padilla.

"Only what I've sayed," rejoins the Sydney Duck. "If you weesh, I can say it over 'gain. That theer yellow stuff shud be measured out to the crew o' this craft share and share alike, even hands all roun' without respectin' o' parsons. An', by G.o.d! it shall be so deevided--shall, will, an' must."

"Yes!" endorses Davis, with like emphatic affirmation.

"It shall, and it must!"

"_Pe gar_, most it!" adds the Frenchman; followed in the same strain by Stronden the Dane, and Van Houton the Dutchman, chorused by Old Tarry and Slush.

"It an't no use your stannin' out, masters," continues Striker, addressing himself to the two Spaniards. "Ye see the majority's against ye; an' in all cases o' the kind, wheresomever I've seed 'em, the majority means the right. Besides, in this partickler case we're askin'

no moren' what's right--refarrin' to the job afore us. I'm willin' to conceed, that you Spanish chaps hev hed most to do wi' the first plannin' o' the thing; as alser, that ye brought the rest o' us into it.

But what signify the bringin' in compared wi' the gettin' out? In sich sc.r.a.pes, 'taint the beginnin' but the eend as is dangersome. An' we've all got to unnergo that danger; the which I needn't particklarly speak o', as every man o' ye must feel it 'bout the nape o' his neck, seein'

the risk he'll hev to run o' gettin' that streetched. It's eequil all roun', and tharfor the reward for runnin' it shed be eequil too. So say Jack Striker."

"So I, and I, and I," echo the others; all save Padilla and Velarde, who remain silent and scowling.

"Yis," continues Striker, "an' theer be one who 'ant present among us, as oughter have his share too. I don't mean either Mr Gomez or Hernandez. Them two shud be contented, seein' as they're more after the weemen than the money, an' n.o.body as I know o' carin' to cut 'em out there. It's true him I refer to hez come into the thing at the 'leventh hour, as ye may say--after 'twar all planned. But he mote a gied us trouble by stannin' apart. Tharfore, I say, let's take him in on shares wi' the rest."

"Whom are you speaking of?" demands Padilla.

"I needn't tell ye," responds the senior of the Sydney Ducks! "If I an't mistook, that's him a comin' down, an' he can speak for hisself."

At the words, a footstep is heard upon the forecastle stair. A pair of legs is seen descending; after them a body--the body of Harry Blew!

Padilla looks scared; Velarde the same. Both fancy their conspiracy discovered, their scheme blown; and that Striker, with all his talk, has been misleading them. They almost believe they are to be set upon and put in irons; and that for this very purpose the first officer is entering the forecastle.

They are soon undeceived, however, on hearing what he has to say.

Striker draws it out, repeating the conversation pa.s.sed, and the demand he has been making.

Thus Harry Blew gives rejoinder:

"I'm with ye, shipmates, to the end, be that sweet or bitter. Striker talks straight, an' his seems the only fair way of settlin' the question. The majority must decide. There's two not here, an' they've got to be consulted. They're both by the wheel. Tharfore, let's go aft, an' talk the thing there. There's no fear for our bein'

interrupted. The skipper's asleep, an' we've got the ship to ourselves."

So saying, he leads up the ladder, the rest rising from their seats, and crowding after.

Once on deck, they cl.u.s.ter around the forehatch, and there stop; the first mate having something to say to them before proceeding farther.

The second does not take part in this conference; but stealing past unseen, glides on towards the after-part of the ship.

Soon the others saunter in the same direction, in twos and threes, straggling along the waist, but again gathering into a group around the capstan. There the moonlight, falling full upon their faces, betrays the expression of men in mutiny; but mutiny unopposed. For on the quarterdeck no one meets them. The traitorous first officer has spoken truly: the captain is asleep; they have the ship to themselves!

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

"CASTLES IN SPAIN."