The Golden Rock Part 21

"Do you make out any signals, Mr Webster?"

"No, sir; but I can't see a single boat, and it seems to me the tackle is hanging from the davits."

"Strange," muttered the Captain; "for there have been no indications of storm. Maybe the boats are out for some business of life-saving." And he swept his gla.s.s to right and left of the steamer, which was rapidly taking shape to the naked eye.

"Bring her round a couple of spokes--so. Hold her at that." The _Swift_ bore down straight for the stranger, and for some minutes not a word was spoken on her, as every man eagerly searched the ship, and then the smooth water about her, for the first trace of any sign that would explain the mystery of her fixed and lonely state. The belt of sea beyond widened out, her straight bows rose higher; a sailor picked out the red band round her funnel, and now one, and then another, with a quick cry, averred they saw men on board; but yet there was no sign of her boats, or trace of smoke.

"She has a slight list to starboard, Mr Webster."

"I marked that, sir; but she has not settled down, and can't be making water."

"She looks over seaworthy for a castaway. Who is it can see a man on board?"

The sailor d.i.c.k touched his cap. "There's a chap swinging on the starboard side, sir, just below the forward davits, and there's another lying on the b.o.o.by-trap."

The other men looked at d.i.c.k, then, with knitted brows under the shade of their flat palms, gazed intently at the spots indicated; but, failing to make out any object so small at such a distance, they all turned to watch the Captain, and judged from the sharp inquiring glance he threw at the Lieutenant before taking a longer view that there was now some key to the mystery.

"There certainly is a man up aloft, and another hanging at the side; but he is strangely still."

"It seems to me his legs move," muttered Webster. "My G.o.d! what is that below him?"

To the straining looks of the excited crew there flashed for a moment a speck of white at the side of the ship, followed by a faint toss of spray against the black hull.

"'Tis a shark!" shouted d.i.c.k.

Another pause succeeded, and from the doors there peered out the grim faces of half a dozen stokers, who had, down below, felt the contagion of excitement.

"There has been foul play," said the Captain; "no live man would remain within a yard of those gaping jaws and not struggle to escape."

"Fire a blank charge, Mr Webster."

The twelve-pounder roared its summons, loud enough to wake the dead, but no white face was lifted over the bulwarks of the vessel, and no movement came from the two still forms.

"Make ready to launch the boat."

There was a rush of naked feet, four men tumbled into the boat with Webster; the ropes were loosened, and the davits swung out.

"Captain, what is that dark cloud beyond the ship?" asked Miss Anstrade, who had been standing on the bridge with a look of wonder in her face.

"A capful of wind, Miss Laura."

The steamer soon heeled over slowly to the breeze; then her stern, making a ripple on the water, came round, and she lay broadside on, showing the high p.o.o.ps, lofty bridge, and deep, well-like quarter-deck of the ocean tramp. The strange figure hanging over the swell of her bows swung to the lazy motion of the ship, his feet nearly touching the heave of the sea made by the list.

Out of that swell there rose the gleaming belly of the great fish, the next moment the ropes hung limp against the ship!

A murmur of horror rose from the _Swift_, and Miss Anstrade caught Frank convulsively by the arm. "O Sancta Sanctissima!" she cried, "what a fearful thing is the sea!"

Yet it could not have been more peaceful, as it came with a soft caressing ripple against the grey sides of the catcher, its glossy surface belying the evidence of that ghastly tragedy, whose eddying ripples it had hastily smoothed away.

And the derelict, lazily dipping, pointed her tall narrow bows once more at the _Swift_, and seemed to the sailor-men to appeal to them in her helplessness; so they pitied her as if she had been a living thing.

"What is the matter with her?" asked Miss Anstrade, her face still white.

"She has been abandoned, evidently; but I must find out why, for she appears to be seaworthy. Her rigging is uninjured; she cannot be making water, and if her steam-gear were damaged she could trust to her sails."

The _Swift_ was now within a few lengths of the derelict, and pa.s.sing under her stern, turned to examine her port side.

There, at last, was some evidence of violence, for one of her iron plates had been ripped open, the port side of the bridge had been completely swept away, and there were two jagged holes in her forward bulwark, the jagged ends projecting out, while fragments of a boat hung from her davits.

"She's been under fire!" said the Captain in astonishment.

"Ay, ay, raked fore and aft by bow chasers," was the comment of the men.

"Stand by to lower the boat. Let go!" The boat sank to the sea, shipshape and even, and Hume, with a word to the Captain, slipped down into her.

"Give way!" cried Webster, standing up in the stern-sheets. The men put their backs into it, and very soon an active tar, making use of his toes and hands, was on the quarter-deck. He took one quick look around, then let down a rope, up which the rest scrambled one after the other. An extraordinary spectacle met their gaze: the well was littered with splinters; the ladder reaching to the main-deck was smashed; the entrance to the alley-way blocked with the iron wall of the cabin, which had been torn away from its fastenings. On the starboard side, however, the deck was clear, and pa.s.sing round, they went up the step to the main-deck. The starboard side here was free, but on the port side the deck was ploughed up, and hampered with a part of the bridge and portion of the boat, while the row of skylights were shattered into pieces.

Sending a couple of men aloft to bring down the man on the b.o.o.by, Webster and Hume went below to examine the state-room. The table was set for dinner, but the plates were clean, and the meal had not been served. Fallen over on the table was a--bottle of whisky, from which the spirit had run out over the cloth, still filling the room with a strong odour, and on the floor was a broken gla.s.s. The cabin door opening into the saloon was open, and an inspection showed that the contents had been overhauled, the boxes standing open, and the floors covered with clothing which had been hastily tossed out.

On a small table, in the Captain's room, was the log-book, the last entry broken off--

"1 degree North lat.i.tude, 30 West longitude. Towards evening sighted a cruiser, which showed the Brazilian (National) colours, and held on.

She signalled for our colours. Run up the National flag, when she hauled down her colour and ran up the Government flag, at the same time signalling us to lay-to. Expecting little mercy if she found out the nature of our cargo, made a run for it. She gave chase, and opened fire with her bow guns. Cruiser gave up the chase at dusk, just as a discharge from her bow guns severely mauled us. _Irene_ making water fast, and resolved to take the boats and--"

"That explains her state," mused Webster, as he turned over the pages of the log, which showed that the _Irene_, 1,500 tons, had left Bristol for Rio in June, 1893, and had up to the last entry made an uneventful voyage.

"It's a monstrous thing," said Frank, "that a peaceful merchant steamer should have been served in this way."

"She probably carries contraband of war, and navy men don't go to much ceremony before playing bowls with a blockade-runner. Ask the skipper; he's been at the game often, and by the same token I believe he took command of the _Swift_ to wipe off old scores. Let's get below."

Calling two of the men, Webster lifted a hatchway, and, with a lantern from the storeroom, descended to investigate, and was not long in finding that the main hold contained a large shipment of rifles packed in cases. Returning to deck, they found the two men who had been sent aloft standing by the side of a young sailor who had been struck in the head, evidently by a fragment of iron. He was stiff in death, and Webster, with a gentle touch, drew the eyelids over the blue eyes.

He then turned to the side to haul in the ropes, from which that other figure had swung. There was a loop in the end, in which the unfortunate man in launching the forward boat had probably been entangled, and overlooked by his comrades in the dark. Subdued and saddened by what they had seen, they returned to the _Swift_, and Webster made his report.

"A blockade-runner," said the Captain, his gloomy eyes lighting up; "and full of arms. What a prize she would be for the rebels!"

"And for us, too," said Mr Commins quickly. There was a long pause, and the Captain paced restlessly to and fro, casting quick glances at the derelict. "She would mean a fortune," he continued slowly, "for I happen to know that the land forces of the National party are badly armed. Now, Captain, here is an opportunity that falls right into your mouth, and I would strongly urge you to accept the gift. I admit I was wrong about the _Esperanza_, but concerning the advisability of taking possession of this rich derelict there can surely be no two opinions."

"But I should have to place a crew on board, and that would weaken us,"

said the Captain, with an air as though he liked the proposal.

"I, myself, don't see any bar to that arrangement," said Commins, stroking his chin, and eyeing the Captain thoughtfully. "I dare say now, with half our crew, you yourself could undertake to run the blockade with that ship."

"I am not going to leave the _Swift_," said the Captain roughly.

"I should hope not," laughed Commins. "I had in mind the history of some of your daring trips as blockade-runner, and, of course, as I presume, Mr Webster, and our young friend, Mr Hume, with as few men as you could spare, could be put on board. They could make for some port north of Rio, and after reporting her whereabouts and arranging for the reward, you could re-ship the crew previous to carrying out the object of this voyage."

"That would mean delay, and Miss Anstrade may object," urged the Captain, who, nevertheless, was evidently pleased with the scheme.