The Voyage of the Aurora Part 10

Then, in a single instant, the whole of his past life rose up before him, with every thought, word, and deed clearly and sharply reproduced.

And, as it did so, the present world and all its concerns, its petty aspirations, ambitions, hopes, and strivings, dwindled away into the most contemptible insignificance; his mental vision cleared; he saw how full had been his life of great and n.o.ble possibilities--as are the lives of all of us, would we but allow ourselves to see that it is so-- and he saw, too, how completely he had missed his mark; how very far his own evil pa.s.sions had led him astray from the narrow and seldom-trodden path which, faithfully followed, leads to that highest possible attainment of humanity--True Goodness.

Ah! how bitterly he repented him then of all his lost, or rather his cast-away, opportunities. From his earliest youth he had chosen to follow evil rather than good; he had turned persistently away from the right; and now there was neither time nor opportunity left him for reparation. The utter blankness and uselessness of his life stood revealed to him as one long, unbroken, unanswerable accusation; and, in his mad despair, he suddenly dashed aside the two men who held him in their custody, sprang with a single bound to the rail, and, placing his hands upon the top of the topgallant-bulwark, vaulted clear over it before a single hand could be outstretched to restrain him, and with a yell which evermore rang in the ears of those who heard it, threw up his hands and vanished for ever into the dark and terrible depths of his ocean-grave.

The little crowd of spectators stood for a few moments silent and almost stupefied at this sudden and tragic disappearance of the second mate from their midst. The occurrence was so totally unexpected that it in a measure sobered the mutineers, who regarded each other with some such expression as that of a group of school-boys terrified at the sudden occurrence of some disaster, the result of their own mischievous acts, and each anxious to shift the blame and responsibility from his own shoulders to those of the others.

The first to recover his self-possession was Rogers, who exclaimed with an obviously forced laugh--

"Well, curse me if that ain't a good un! What, in the name of all that's foolish, made the man do that? He might ha' _knowed_ as we was only goin' to frighten him a bit. You'll bear me out, shipmates, that we was all agreed to go no further than the frightenin' of him a bit, and meant to let him off arter we'd made fast the rope, and let him stand with it round his neck a minute or two. Now, ain't them there the facts o' the case?"

"Ay, ay, Ned; you're right, bo'; that's just exactly how't was," was the reply.

"Nevertheless," answered Captain Arnold sternly, "you are as much murderers, every one of you, as if you had hanged the man--as you seemed about to do--or had taken him up and flung him over the side with your own hands. You _drove_ him to his death; his blood is upon your hands; and you will individually be called upon to answer for your accursed deed, if not in this world, certainly in the next."

The men cowered like whipped hounds before the captain's denunciation, which they knew in their inmost souls to be just; for an instant they stood appalled before the awful conviction that they were indeed _murderers_, none the less guilty because their crime was unintentional; and, but for the swift intervention of Rogers, they would there and then, in their horror and remorse, have yielded up possession of the ship, and returned to their duty. But the boatswain, taking in at a glance the critical state of affairs, and fully realising his own perilous position as the ring-leader in the mutiny, rallied his men by exclaiming--

"There now, belay all that, you Arnold; we wants none of _your_ preachin', and, what's more, we won't have it. And, shipmates, don't you take no notice of what he says; we never _meant_ to take the second mate's life; we'd ha' stopped him from drownin' hisself if we could; and so it's just all gammon to talk about our bein' his--his--murderers.

Now march the pris'ners down into the fo'c's'le again; clap the bilboes on 'em; shut down the scuttle upon 'em; and then come aft into the cabin, all hands, and we'll 'freshen the nip.'"

This proposal to "freshen the nip"--or take another gla.s.s or two of grog--was eagerly welcomed by the mutineers, who felt that they _must_ have something to dispel those qualms of conscience which so greatly disturbed them; and in another quarter of an hour they were all--with the exception of two men at the wheel and one on the p.o.o.p, who was supposed to be acting as lookout--once more a.s.sembled round the saloon-table, busily endeavouring to drown their sense of guilt in a flood of liquor.

The ladies--who had long before effected a retreat to their own state-rooms, where they had locked themselves in--were for some time allowed to remain unmolested; but when the libations in which the mutineers liberally indulged had at last achieved their desired effect, and the spirits of the men began to rise, one of the most reckless of them proposed that the ladies should be invited to grace the revel with their presence. The proposal was received with acclamation, and the unhappy women were forthwith ordered into the saloon. The poor terrified creatures at first made no response, hoping that if no notice were taken of them the intoxicated mutineers would forget all about them, and leave them in peace. But this hope was of short duration, for the mutineers, drinking deep and rapidly, soon grew excited, and, finding their repeated demands of no avail, staggered to their feet, and, breaking open the state-room doors, dragged forth their victims, compelling them to seat themselves at the same table and partake with them of the liquor with which it was bountifully supplied. The scene which followed is simply too shameful for detailed description. The men, inflamed by drink and rendered reckless by a feeling which none of them could entirely shake off--that they had already offended past all forgiveness--speedily grew more and more outrageous in their behaviour, until the orgie became one of such unbridled licence that one of the ladies--the young and lovely wife of one of the pa.s.sengers imprisoned in the forecastle--in her desperation drew a pistol from the belt of the man nearest her, and, quickly c.o.c.king it, placed the muzzle to her breast, pulled the trigger, and sank upon the saloon floor a corpse, shot through the heart.

This second fatality, more sudden if possible than the first, brought the unholy revel to an abrupt conclusion; the mutineers, thoroughly horrified at the occurrence, notwithstanding their drunken condition, staggering to their feet with one accord, and making the best of their way out on deck, where they sought to sober themselves by plunging their heads into buckets of water.

Having to some extent succeeded in this endeavour, they next bethought themselves of the desirability of putting the ship to rights. It was still blowing very heavily, and the sea was higher than ever-- dangerously so indeed, as the ship had more than once narrowly escaped being p.o.o.ped--but the sky looked a trifle less wild than before, and the gla.s.s was rising. Rogers therefore determined, as a first step, to get up a new foresail, bend, and set it. The sail-room was accordingly opened, and then, in pursuance of their resolution to do as little work as possible themselves, the prisoners in the forecastle were brought up on deck, and ordered, first to rouse out the sail, and then to go aloft and bend it. This the unfortunate pa.s.sengers, aided and directed by the captain, at length accomplished, though it was at the imminent risk of their lives, the violent motion of the ship momentarily threatening to send them--unaccustomed as they were to such work--whirling off the yard into the sea. The sail being bent, it was loosed and set, close-reefed; after which the disabled ship not only steered more easily, but also became more steady; all further danger, too, of being p.o.o.ped was at an end.

The spare spars were next cast adrift, and preparations made for getting new topmasts on end as soon as the weather should moderate sufficiently; and thus pa.s.sed that eventful day.

Walford was soon found to be so exceedingly timid when aloft, that he was not only of no use there, he was absolutely a clog and hindrance to the efforts of the others; he was accordingly relegated to the ignominious post of cook's mate, in which an abundance of the dirtiest work was carefully provided for him.

On the second day after his a.s.sumption of his new duties, this unfortunate individual, while engaged in the task of getting up coals from the fore-peak, was unlucky enough to capsize the lamp which he was using, and so set the ship on fire. Instead of giving the alarm instantly, as he ought to have done, he rushed on deck with the intention of getting some buckets of water, and endeavouring to extinguish the fire unaided. No sooner, however, did he make his appearance than he was hustled peremptorily off by the cook upon another errand; and when he returned, a quarter of an hour later, the forecastle was all ablaze, and the smoke just beginning to curl up through the scuttle.

Then indeed he shouted "Fire!" with all his might, and at the terrible cry all hands rushed forward, to find the alarm only too true.

In the first mad hurry and confusion, no one seemed to think of inquiring how the fire had originated; and Walford was beginning to congratulate himself that, whatever happened, his complicity would not be suspected, when Talbot, happening to run up against him, stopped abruptly, and exclaimed--

"Ha! you lubber, I saw _you_ creeping up and down the forecastle ladder just now, as gingerly as a cat walking upon hot bricks--you ought to know something about this job--and by Jove you do, too; I can see it by the blink of your eyes--so out with it, you long-sh.o.r.e lantern-jawed son of a baked monkey."

To this elegant adjuration Walford began to stammer out an exculpatory explanation, which, however, was abruptly nipped in the bud by the boatswain's mate exclaiming--

"There, belay all that and coil up the slack of your jawing-tackle; there's no time to talk now; tail on there and try to make yourself useful. But look out, my lad if this fire gets the upper hand of us; curse me, if we don't leave you to roast in it."

A vigorous attack upon the fire was speedily organised, Rogers and Talbot each taking command of a separate party, which they were careful so to arrange that there should be no possibility of their prisoners concerting together in a successful attempt to retake the ship. So far, however, as the pa.s.sengers were concerned, they appeared to be far too anxious to subdue the flames to have time for any other thought or consideration.

All through the ensuing night this curiously-const.i.tuted party laboured in their efforts to get the upper hand of the fire; but it had been allowed to obtain too firm a hold upon the ship before the alarm was given; much of the cargo was of a highly combustible nature, and though, by the zeal and energy with which all hands worked, they succeeded to some extent in r.e.t.a.r.ding the progress of the flames, when day at length broke, it became apparent to all that the ship was doomed.

When at last they were compelled, from sheer exhaustion, to desist for a time from their long-continued and fatiguing efforts, the fact--which had hitherto escaped their notice--became apparent that, happily, the gale had blown itself out; the wind had already dropped considerably, and the sea, though it was still very high, no longer broke in its former dangerous and menacing fashion.

Upon seeing this, Rogers at once came to the determination not to waste any further labour in the useless endeavour to save the ship, but to devote all his energies to the getting of the boats safely into the water. The mutineers were by this time perfectly sober once more, and having shaken off with their intoxication the recklessness which it had engendered, they felt keenly anxious to escape the responsibility of any further waste of human life.

But, as usual in such cases, their own escape, not only from the danger of being burnt with the ship, but also from the punishment due to their misdeeds, was of paramount importance with them. Before commencing, therefore, upon the difficult task of launching the boats, Rogers informed his unfortunate prisoners that he was willing to give them a couple of boats, with all necessary provisions and water, if they would individually take a solemn oath never to reveal any of the circ.u.mstances connected with the mutiny, nor to say or do anything which would place the mutineers within the power of the law. If they would do this, they might have the boats; if not, he informed them that they would be left on board the burning ship, and that the mutineers would take such measures as would effectually preclude any possibility of escape. Under the circ.u.mstances the prisoners had no alternative but to comply, which they did, and the launching of the boats was then vigorously proceeded with.

This task, after an immense amount of difficulty, and two or three exceedingly narrow escapes from the accident of having the boats stove or swamped, was at length satisfactorily accomplished; after which no time was lost in provisioning and manning them.

As soon as the boats were ready to receive them, the ladies were summoned from the saloon to take their places therein. The poor creatures could hardly be persuaded, in their terror and distraction, to leave even such inefficient protection as the saloon afforded them, so great was their horror and repugnance at the idea of being brought once more, even though it might be for ever so short a time, into the presence and propinquity of the mutineers. And when at length they emerged from the saloon, and, standing upon the wet and slippery deck, glanced first aloft at the splintered spars, the tattered remains of the sails, and the ends and bights of rope streaming in the wind, then at the great tongues of flame and clouds of smoke which enwrapped the forepart of the ship, and, lastly, over the side at the boats tossing like egg-sh.e.l.ls upon the mountainous seas which swept hissing past, their courage entirely failed them; and it was not until Rogers, growing impatient at the delay, strode up to them and gave them the choice of going instantly and without further ado over the side and into the boats, or of being left behind altogether, that they could be persuaded to essay the dangerous adventure.

At length, however, by the exercise of great care and circ.u.mspection on the part of all concerned, the trans-shipment of the ladies was safely effected, and then the gentlemen were ordered to go. The husband of the unhappy lady who had been so cruelly driven to suicide had been for some time eagerly looking about for his wife, and, not seeing her, he at last made inquiry of the other ladies as to her whereabouts. His grief, when the dreadful news of her death was gradually broken to him with all that gentleness of which a woman's tender, loving heart alone is capable, was something pitiful to witness; he rushed into the saloon, and entering the state-room in which the poor lady's inanimate body had been reverently deposited by her companions in misfortune, flung himself upon his knees by the side of the berth, and uttered alternately the wildest prayers that heaven would pardon her act of desperation, and the bitterest curses upon the heads of those who had driven her to it. It was with the utmost difficulty that he was at last persuaded by Captain Arnold to bid an eternal farewell to the beloved remains, and to join the rest of the party in the boats allotted to them.

On hearing the order given for the gentlemen to pa.s.s down into the boats, Walford mingled with the group and pressed quietly forward to the gangway, having a vivid remembrance of Talbot's terrible threat, and not caring to remind him of it by a too obtrusive exhibition of his anxiety to escape. But in consequence of the still heavy run of the sea, several of the mutineers--both Rogers and Talbot being among them--were a.s.sisting at the transfer; and when Walford's turn came to pa.s.s down over the side, he was summarily ordered back by the boatswain's mate, who gruffly exclaimed, as his eye fell upon the quaking lieutenant--

"Here, you! stand back, will yer? Your turn ain't come yet."

Walford at once fell back, in a state of most painful trepidation, but still hopeful that he would be allowed to go with the rest. When all the pa.s.sengers but himself, however, had pa.s.sed down the side, the order was given for them to cast off, which they at once did, ignorant or forgetful of the fact that one of their number still remained behind.

Walford was about to rush to the gangway, and hail the fast receding boat, when the ever-watchful Talbot caught him by the collar, and flung him from him with an "Ah! would yer," and a kick which sent the unfortunate officer sprawling upon the deck.

It was now the turn of the mutineers to take to the boats, and it was not long before they stood in the gangway, each with the bag containing his few belongings in his hand, waiting to be pa.s.sed in turn down over the side. Rogers rapidly ran his eye over them, satisfied himself that everybody was present, and then began to call out their names in the order in which they were to leave the ship. When one boat had received its complement and shoved off, Walford once more pressed forward, half wild with anxiety now, and begged in piteous terms that he might not be left on board, as now seemed to be the actual determination of the mutineers. Upon this Talbot lost all patience with him, and, seizing him once more by the collar, thrust him before him into the saloon, exclaiming as he did so--

"Now look here, you meddlesome young jackanapes, there's been enough blood spilt on board this ship already--chiefly in consekence of your havin' shoved in your oar where it weren't wanted, and advisin' the skipper to flog a sick man--and I don't want to have to shed any more, you understand? Wery well, then; you stay in here until that there clock have marked off a good half-hour; arter that you may come out and do the best you can for yourself; there's plenty o' spars knockin' about the decks here, which you can lash together, and make a tip-top raft out of 'em, upon which you can go for a cruise on your own account; but if you shows your ugly head outside this here cabin before the half-hour's out, d.a.m.n me if I won't lash your neck and heels together, and heave you into the middle of the fire there for'ard. Comprenny?"

So saying, he coolly shifted the key from the inside to the outside of the saloon-door, slammed the latter, turned the key, and then the wretched Walford heard the heavy tramp of his footsteps upon the deck rapidly growing fainter and more faint as he walked away.

CHAPTER NINE.

DRIVEN TO MADNESS.

As the key turned in the lock, Walford sank down in a state of semi-stupefaction upon one of the saloon sofas, listening like one in a dream to the distant sound of the men's voices and the occasional tramp of feet, as the mutineers pa.s.sed, one by one, down the ship's side into the boats. A few minutes more and these sounds ceased. He lifted up his head, listening eagerly; but he could hear nothing, save the dismal creaking of the bulkheads, the moaning of the wind, the monotonous _swish, swish_ of the water washing across the deck outside with the roll of the ship, and the dull hum and crackling of the flames as they slowly ate their destructive way further and further into the heart of the doomed craft.

"Were they actually gone?" he asked himself. "Was it possible that he was left alone, absolutely _alone_ on that burning wreck, thousands of miles from the nearest land, drifting he knew not whither at the mercy of wind and wave, with no hope of rescue and with the certainty that in a day or two at most the fabric which bore him would be so completely enveloped in the flames kindled by his own clumsiness that it would no longer be tenable, and the only alternative open to him would be that of perishing in the fire or flinging himself into the sea, there to battle despairingly for an extra hour or two of life?" He could not believe it, he _would_ not believe it possible that men could be found so inhuman as to leave a fellow-mortal in so desperate a strait; they were only trying him, as they had tried that poor fellow Thomson; and if he would but have patience to wait until the stipulated half-hour had pa.s.sed, he would find them still there, waiting to receive him into the boat. He laughed aloud, as he thought what a fool he had been to allow himself to be terrified even for a moment, but the laugh was so utterly the reverse of mirthful, so harsh and ghastly, that he stopped abruptly, startled by the hideous strangeness of the sounds. Then he rose and crept on tip-toe towards the saloon-door, and, on reaching it, crouched down and applied first his eye and then his ear to the key-hole. The key had been removed from the lock and the shield had fallen down over the opening outside, so that he was unable to see anything; neither could he detect any sounds indicative of the presence of others on board. Once or twice indeed he _thought_ he caught the sound of whispered voices just outside the door, but he could not be sure about the matter; and in an agony of uncertainty he crept back to the sofa to watch the lagging minute-hand of the clock, and wait for the expiration of the half-hour.

Oh! what a weary time was that for the lonely watcher, as he sat there with his hands tightly locked together, his frame quivering with anxiety and apprehension, and his eyes fixed upon that inexorable minute-hand, which would not hasten its movement, though his life might be dependent on it. What if the men should grow weary of waiting? A thousand horrible fancies crowded in upon him, until in his distraction he groaned aloud. The suspense became unendurable; and in his anguish he started up to burst open the saloon-door and learn the worst at once, but (remembering Talbot's threat, and more than half-believing him to be capable of carrying it into execution) turned back again and fell to pacing rapidly to and fro the whole length of the saloon instead.

At last! at last! the half-hour of penance was over, and he was free once more. He dashed at the locked saloon-door, and, frantically hammering upon it with his clenched firsts until his knuckles streamed with blood, shouted eagerly--

"Talbot! Talbot! the half-hour is up; so open the door, please, and let me out, there's a good fellow."

Then he applied his ear to the key-hole, listening eagerly for the first sound of approaching footsteps.

Five seconds--ten seconds--twenty--thirty--a minute; why did they not come? Was it possible that they had not heard him? He applied his mouth to the joint between the door and its jamb, and again shouted, "Talbot! _Talbot_! _Talbot_!" until his voice cracked with the strain he put upon it. Still no answer, no sound save the wail of the wind, the wash of the water, and the creaking of the ship's timbers. "Good G.o.d! were they really gone? _Was_ he, after all, actually left there to die alone?" He seized the handle of the door and tugged at it, fiercely, desperately, with the strength of a madman; but the stout lock stood firm, defying his utmost efforts. Then he suddenly remembered that the captain's cabin was situated on the other side of the ship, with one door opening into the saloon and the other out on deck. With a single bound and a wild cry he crossed the saloon, and laying his hand upon the handle of the door of the captain's cabin, turned it; the door sw.a.n.g open. Another bound and he was at the outer door; was it locked?

No; a twist of the handle, and he stepped out on deck, with the water surging and splashing over his feet. But what cared he then for such a trifle; he was not even conscious of it. Swiftly his gaze swept round the decks: they were empty. In an instant he was at the gangway and peering over the side. No boats there; nothing but the empty tackles of the quarter-boats alternately swinging in the air and trailing in the water with the roll of the ship. "_Where_ were the boats? Ha! towing astern, of course, it would simply mean destruction to them if they attempted to remain alongside in so heavy a sea." In frantic haste he scrambled up the p.o.o.p-ladder and rushed aft.

_The boats were gone_!

"Then it was an absolute fact that he was left there alone and powerless, doomed to watch with a horrible fascination the steady relentless approach of the Grim Enemy in his most terrible form, and to suffer the while in imaginative antic.i.p.ation all the agonies of a thousand fiery deaths. Oh, G.o.d! it was too much. Mercy! mercy!" And with a demoniac yell he stood clutching and tugging at his hair with both hands, his teeth clenched, his eyes fixed and almost bursting from their sockets, foam bubbling from his lips--_a raving madman_!

This terrible state of distraction endured for nearly an hour, and then a species of numbness seized upon his faculties, his anxiety vanished, and he found his thoughts straying away and fixing themselves upon the veriest trivialities, conjuring up again before his mental vision acts and words which had never recurred to him since the day on which they had been done or said, mischievous practical jokes played off upon some unlucky school-fellow, mess-room jests and tattle, and a thousand other absurdities, at which he laughed aloud. Then disconnected words and phrases rushed helter-skelter through his seething brain, having no meaning, yet causing him the keenest annoyance, because he believed he had heard them before, and was anxious to connect them with the circ.u.mstances of their utterance. There was one in particular which especially tormented him. "Go for a cruise on your own account; go for a cruise on your own account," his brain reiterated with merciless pertinacity. What did it mean? Where had he heard those words before, and who had uttered them? He felt absolutely certain that at some time or other he had heard that phrase spoken, and that it had some intimate connection with himself, that it somehow concerned him vitally. "There was something else, too, said at the same time--something about--about-- what was it? Something about--ah! yes--spars and a raft--'spars--raft-- go for a cruise on your own account.' What could it mean?" Finally a gleam of reason returned to his clouded mind, and he realised dimly that it was of the utmost importance that he should construct a raft and "go for a cruise on his own account."