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"Caliban, cast off the gaskets from fore and main!" cried Dolores next.
"Where are thy rascals? Plague take thee, hunchback! Couldst not say there were not men enough? Below with ye, and bring up the schooner's people. Have sail on this vessel before that anchor takes hold, or I'll flay thy hump!"
Cursing venomously, the deformed little demon sprang into the forecastle and drove up Peters and his four men with kicks and blows. They, too, were bewildered by the tremendous uproar of sea and wind, and went like sheep to the fore and main masts at Caliban's bidding.
"Ready for the anchor--lower away!" roared Hanglip in the boat, where already was piled coil on coil a great hemp hawser.
"Handsomely, ye dogs, handsomely!" shrieked Spotted Dog in turn. The anchor sank into the boat to the screeching of tackles and the groaning of boat-timbers, and was carried out astern.
"Carry the end aft!" Dolores commanded; the hawser was taken along and the end pa.s.sed around the quarter-deck capstan. "Up with those sails!"
cried the girl now, and Caliban's gang sweated at the halyards, while slackened sheets permitted the booms to swing and present the luffs to the screaming gale, bearing no resistance. While the boat pulled away into the darkness astern, carrying the anchor to the full scope of the cable, Dolores kept her eyes ever aloft, and over the sea, and upon every detail of the work. Her eyes fell upon Peters, standing in sullen mood at the belaying-pin which held a turn of the main-throat halyards.
And as the croaking cry of Caliban ordered "Belay!" she called Peters to her.
"Thou'rt sailing-master, hey?"
"I was."
"Art still, if thy heart is as stubborn as thy face!" cried Dolores, laughing at his scowl. "Canst sail thy ship now?"
"I can sail any ship that floats, but neither I nor your sharks can sail this schooner now," he replied surlily. "Your false marks did their work well."
"Then thou'd rather pull a rope than hold a wheel, hey? 'Tis but a wooden sailor, after all. I hoped such a ship would boast a seaman as master. I'll show thee seamanship, sheep-heart!"
Out of the darkness astern came a roar:
"Anchor's down! Heave away!"
And from the darkness aloft Stumpy bawled:
"There she flares! Mother o' me!" The prayer, curse, whatever the last words might be, were called forth by a paralyzing flash of lightning that shone over the raging sea like a gigantic calcium-light. The schooner's deck resounded with superst.i.tious howls, which rose to awed cries from the weakest as from trucks and gaff-ends glowed and flickered the blue brush of St. Elmo's fire.
"Heave away, heave away!" Dolores's voice rang out on the hubbub, forcing obedience even in face of terror. The capstan went round to the urge of a dozen pair of fear-stimulated arms; and fathom by fathom the great cable came in dripping and glistening; fathom after fathom was heaped on the deck, and still the schooner remained fast. And ever from aloft came Stumpy's hail, reporting Milo's flare fast fading in the distance.
"You can't do it! I knew it!" shouted Peters defiantly.
"Peace, sheep!" answered Dolores, slapping him upon the mouth. She stood at the wheel, and no part of the vessel's situation escaped her. She had yet a trump to play: a hazardous one, truly, but the big one. The big fore and main sails swung and crashed idly at their sheets, filling the air with the thunder of their flinging blocks. At each boom a seaman stood, and each held the double block of a boom-tackle, waiting the word that now came.
"Clap on those boom-tackles!" Dolores commanded, and four men flew to each as it was hooked to the rigging. "Haul away! Boom the sails square out!" The great sails filled with a crash as the gale took them on the fore side, flinging them violently aback.
"You'll pluck the spars out of her!" screamed Peters, in a frenzy now as his cherished masts whipped and cracked to the tremendous backward strain. Dolores ignored the crazed man, but a scornful smile wreathed about her lips, and her dark eyes gleamed. "Out with them!" she cried.
"More hands there! And heave, ho, heave away on the capstan! Burst thy arms, bullies! Here comes Hanglip and his bold lads to help ye! Round with her! Out with them! Heave, good bullies!"
The girl stood by the wheel, a splendid figure of matchless energy and courage. Aloft the topmasts bent like whips; Stumpy's voice came down in ever-increasing fear as his perch grew shakier; the great expanse of canvas, which should have been treble-reefed even in a floating ship going forward, tore at boom-tackles and earrings, tacks, and mast-hoops, shaking the vessel to the keel and filling her with cataclysmic thunder.
"By the bones of Red Jabez, she comes!" roared Spotted Dog, peering over the side. "Heave, lads, and never doubt the girl again! Fiends o'
Topheth! See her slide!"
The schooner shuddered from forefoot to sternpost; the big hawser slipped in through the lead with gathering speed; the groaning masts imparted an impulse to her that drove her astern like an arrow, and now, triumphantly, Dolores cried:
"An ax! Quickly--cut the hawser! Caliban, get a jib loosed! Hanglip, open the companionway, and bring up my prisoners. I would have them enjoy the sail."
A curling sea poured over the taffrail, sweeping Dolores from her feet; she met it with a ringing laugh, gripping the wheel as her safeguard, and the moment the ax severed the hawser she gave the vessel a sheer with the helm, and again her orders rang out:
"Let go both boom-tackles! Hoist away the jib! Haul the jib-sheet to starboard, and stand by fore and main sheets!"
Out of the darkness ahead came the fluttering of canvas, and soon Caliban's hoa.r.s.e croak rang aft: "Hoist away th' jib!" The great booms swung amidships again when the tackles were cast off, and now the headsail flew up the stay, the restrained sheet to starboard causing the canvas to fill aback as had the greater sails before. The pressure was ahead and to one side; the schooner's head began to fall off, then faster as she gained momentum, and the fore and main sails again began to thunder at their blocks.
"Let draw the jib! Bring in the fore sheet; bear a hand aft here, main sheet, lads, smartly!" cried Dolores, twirling the wheel to meet the vessel's swift leeward leap. And as the liberated Feu Follette heeled dizzily to the gale, under full spread of sail, and her owner and his guests appeared into the storm, Stumpy's cry rang out:
"There's the flare--and she's burnin' steady!"
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK. Don't forget this magazine is issued weekly, and that you will get the continuation of this story without waiting a month.
The Pirate Woman
by Captain Dingle
Author of "The Coolie Ship," "Steward of the Westward," etc.
This story began in the All-Story Weekly for November 2.
CHAPTER XIV.
YELLOW RUFE'S FINISH.
"How bears the flare?" Dolores demanded, steadying the helm.
"Three points on lee-bow!" came from aloft.
"Sing out when we point for it!" Dolores gave the wheel a few spokes, and at her command the main-sheet was rendered until the schooner fell off from the wind, and Stumpy hailed: "Steady! She heads fair for it!"
"Does it still burn?"
"Aye, blazing bright! And low down, too, for the seas hide it every moment!"
"Keep thy eyes skinned, and seek for the sloop, too."
The schooner came to a more even keel as she squared away from the gale, and the splendid speed of the craft sent a thrill through Dolores, as through the less impressionable pirate of the gang. Fast as Rufe's sloop was, this dainty plaything of wealth and leisure sped over the snarling seas at a gait that promised to overhaul the smaller vessel two fathoms to one.