The Lifeboat Part 28

"Mind your helm!" roared Bunks, savagely. "D'ye want to send us to the bottom?"

The man sprang to the helm, and accompanied his remark with several fierce oaths, which need not be repeated, but which had the effect of rousing Jager's anger to such a pitch, that he jumped up and hit the sailor a heavy blow on the face.

"I'll stop your swearin', I will," he cried, preparing to repeat the blow, but the man stepped aside and walked forward, leaving his commander alone on the quarter-deck.

Bunks, who was a small but active man, was a favourite with the other two men who const.i.tuted the crew of the "b.u.t.terfly," and both of whom were strong-limbed fellows. Their anger at seeing him treated thus savagely knew no bounds. They had long been at deadly feud with Jager.

One of them, especially (a tall, dark, big-whiskered man named Job), had more than once said to his comrades that he would be the death of the skipper yet. Bunks usually shook his head when he heard these threats, and said, "It wouldn't pay, unless he wanted to dance a hornpipe on nothing," which was a delicate reference to being hung.

When the two men saw Bunks come forward with blood streaming from his mouth, they looked at each other and swore a tremendous oath.

"Will ye lend a hand, Jim?" sputtered Job between his clenched teeth.

Jim nodded.

"No, no," cried Bunks, interposing, but the two men dashed him aside and rushed aft.

Their purpose, whatever it might have been, was arrested for a moment by Bunks suddenly shouting at the top of his lungs--

"Light on the starboard bow!"

"That's a lie," said Jager, savagely; "use yer eyes, you land-lubber."

"We're running straight on the North Foreland," cried Job, who, with his companion, suddenly stopped and gazed round them out ahead in alarm.

"The North Foreland, you fool," cried the skipper roughly, "who ever saw the North Foreland light on the starboard bow, with the ship's head due north?"

"I don't believe 'er head _is_ due north," said Job, stepping up to the binnacle, just as Tommy Bogey, aroused by the sudden lurch of the vessel and the angry voices, came on deck.

"Out o' the way," cried Jager roughly, hitting Job such a blow on the head that he sent him reeling against the lee bulwarks.

The man, on recovering himself, uttered a fierce yell, and rushing on the skipper, seized him by the throat with his left hand, and drove his right fist into his face with all his force.

Jager, although a powerful man, and, when sober, more than a match for his antagonist, was overborne and driven with great violence against the binnacle, which, being of inferior quality and ill secured, like everything else in the miserable vessel, gave way under his weight, and the compa.s.s was dashed to pieces on the deck.

Jim ran to a.s.sist his comrade, and Bunks attempted to interfere.

Fortunately, Tommy Bogey's presence of mind did not forsake him. He seized the tiller while the men were fighting furiously, and steered away from the light, feeling sure that, whatever it might be, the wisest thing to be done was to steer clear of it.

He had not got the schooner quite before the wind when a squall struck her, and laid her almost on her beam-ends. The lurch of the vessel sent the struggling men against the taffrail with great violence. The skipper's back was almost broken by the shock, for his body met the side of the vessel, and the other two were thrown upon him. Job took advantage of his opportunity: seizing Jager by the leg, he suddenly lifted him over the iron rail, and hurled him into the sea. There was one wild shriek and a heavy plunge, and the miserable man sank to rise no more.

It is impossible to describe the horror of the poor boy at the helm when he witnessed this cold-blooded murder. Bold though he was, and accustomed to face danger and witness death in some of its most appalling forms, he could not withstand the shock of such a scene of violence perpetrated amid the darkness and danger of a stormy night at sea. His first impulse was to run below, and get out of sight of the men who had done so foul a deed; but reflecting that they might, in their pa.s.sion, toss him into the sea also if he were to show his horror, he restrained himself, and stood calmly at his post.

"Come, out o' the way, younker," cried Job, seizing the helm.

Tommy shrank from the man, as if he feared the contamination of his touch.

"You young whelp, what are ye affeared on? eh!"

He aimed a blow at Tommy, which the latter smartly avoided.

"Murderer!" cried the boy, rousing himself suddenly, "you shall swing for this yet."

"Shall I? eh! Here, Jim, catch hold o' the tiller."

Jim obeyed, and Job sprang towards Tommy, but the latter, who was lithe and active as a kitten, leaped aside and avoided him. For five minutes the furious man rushed wildly about the deck in pursuit of the boy, calling on Bunks to intercept him, but Bunks would not stir hand or foot, and Jim could not quit the helm, for the wind had increased to a gale; and as there was too much sail set, the schooner was flying before it with masts, ropes, and beams creaking under the strain.

"Do your worst," cried Tommy, during a brief pause, "you'll never catch me. I defy you, and will denounce you the moment we got into port."

"Will you? then you'll never get into port alive," yelled Job, as he leaped down the companion, and returned almost instantly, with one of the skipper's pistols.

He levelled it and fired, but the unsteady motion of the vessel caused him to miss his aim. He was about to descend for another pistol, when the attention of all on board was attracted by a loud roar of surf.

"Breakers ahead!" roared Bunks.

This new danger--the most terrible, with perhaps the exception of fire, to which a seaman can be exposed--caused all hands to forget the past in the more awful present. The helm was put down, the schooner flew up into the wind, and sheered close past a ma.s.s of leaping, roaring foam, the sight of which would have caused the stoutest heart to quail.

"Keep her close hauled," shouted Job, who stood on the heel of the bowsprit looking out ahead.

"D'ye think it's the North Foreland?" asked Bunks, who stood beside him.

"I s'pose it is," said Job, "but how it comes to be on our lee bow, with the wind as it is, beats me out and out. Anyhow, I'll keep her well off the land,--mayhap run for the coast of Norway. They're not so partikler about inquiries there, I'm told."

"I'll tell ye what it is, Bunks," said Tommy, who had gone forward and overheard the last observation, but could not bring himself to speak to Job, "you may depend on it we're out of our course; as sure as you stand there the breakers we have just pa.s.sed are the north end of the Goodwin Sands. If we carry on as we're going now, and escape the sands, we'll find ourselves on the coast o' France, or far down the Channel in the morning."

"Thank'ee for nothin'," said Job, with a sneer; "next time ye've got to give an opinion wait till it's axed for, an' keep well out o' the reach o' my arm, if ye don't want to keep company with the skipper."

Tommy made no reply to this. He did not even look as if he had heard it; but, addressing himself to Bunks, repeated his warning.

Bunks was disposed to attach some weight to it at first, but as the compa.s.s was destroyed he had no means of ascertaining the truth of what was said, and as Job laughed all advice to scorn, and had taken command of the vessel, he quietly gave in.

They soon pa.s.sed the breakers, and went away with the lee-gunwale dipping in the water right down the Channel. Feeling relieved from immediate danger, the murderer once more attempted to catch Tommy, but without success. He then went below, and soon after came on deck with such a flushed face and wild unsteady gaze, that it was evident to his companions he had been at the spirit locker. Jim was inclined to rebel now, but he felt that Job was more than a match for him and Bunks.

Besides, he was the best seaman of the three.

"Don't 'ee think we'd better close-reef the tops'l?" said Bunks, as Job came on deck; "if you'll take the helm, Jim and me will lay out on the yard."

There was truly occasion for anxiety. During the last hour the gale had increased, and the masts were almost torn out of the little vessel, as she drove before it. To turn her side to the wind would have insured her being thrown on her beam-ends. Heavy seas were constantly breaking over the stern, and falling with such weight on the deck that Tommy expected to see them stove in and the vessel swamped. In other circ.u.mstances the boy would have been first to suggest reefing the sails, and first to set the example, but he felt that his life depended that night (under G.o.d) on his watchfulness and care.

"Reef tops'l!" cried Job, looking fiercely at Bunks, "no, we shan't; there's one reef in't, an' that's enough." Bunks shuddered, for he saw by the glare of the murderer's eyes that the evil deed, coupled with his deep potations, had driven him mad.

"P'raps it is," said Bunks, in a submissive voice; "but it may be as well to close reef, 'cause the weather don't seem like to git better."

Job turned with a wild laugh to Tommy:

"Here, boy, go aloft and reef tops'l; d'ye hear?"

Tommy hesitated.

"If you don't," said Job, hissing out the words in the extremity of his pa.s.sion, and stopping abruptly, as if unable to give utterance to his feelings.

"Well, what if I don't?" asked the boy sternly.