Paul Gerrard, the Cabin Boy, Page 3

  CHAPTER THREE.

  "What are we to do now?" asked Paul, after he had secured his hold inthe main-chains.

  "Hold on, Jack, where you are, while I will go and try to help some ofour shipmates," answered Reuben. "There's Mr Devereux, who can't domuch to help himself; and the young Mounseer, I should like to savehim."

  Several men had already got to the upper side of the ship, some in themain, and others in the mizen-chains, while others were in the rigging.As the ship was light, she still floated high out of the water. Manymight possibly, therefore, be alive below. Reuben had not been gonelong, when he put his head through the port, singing out--

  "Here, Paul, lend a hand and help up Mr Devereux."

  Devereux had been partially stunned, but had happily clung to astanchion, where Reuben had found him. Paul hauled him up, while Reubenagain dived in search of some one else. He was gone for some time, andPaul began to fear that some accident had happened to him. At lengthhis voice was again heard.

  "Hurrah, Paul, here he is; and what is more, he has his fiddle, too, allsafe and sound."

  Sure enough, there was Alphonse and his beloved fiddle in its case,which he had contrived to get up from below at no little risk of beingdrowned himself.

  "Ah! I would not part from this," he exclaimed, as he made himselfsecure in the chains. "It is my own dear friend; shall I play you atune now?"

  "No, thank ye, Mounseer, it might chance to get wet, and may be thereare more poor fellows to help up here," answered Reuben.

  "Ah! truly, I forgot what had happened," said Alphonse in a dreamy tone,showing that his mind was wandering, overcome by the sudden catastrophe.It was no time for laughter, or Paul would have laughed at the oddnessof the young Frenchman's remark. Still, awful as was the scene, he feltvery little sensation of fear. The night was very dark, the windhowled, the rain fell in torrents, the sea dashed over the wreck, nearlywashing off those who clung to it, while vivid flashes of lightningdarted from the clouds and went hissing along like fiery serpents overthe summits of the waves. The party in the main-chains spoke butlittle. It seemed too probable that none of them would ever see anotherday. Indeed, even should the ship not go down, Paul feared thatDevereux could scarcely endure the hardships of their situation. Heasked Reuben if nothing could be done.

  "If we could get at the axes, we might cut away the masts and the shipmight right," answered Reuben. "But, you see, we want daylight and theofficers to give the order, so that all may act together."

  While he was speaking, a voice was heard apparently from the mizenrigging, shouting, "Cut, I say, all of you; cut, I say, and cuttogether."

  It was that of Mr Noakes. Directly after, a flash of lightningrevealed him standing in the mizen-top, holding on with one hand, whilehe waved the other wildly around. His nervous system had beencompletely weakened by drinking, and it was evident that he had lost hissenses. He continued to shout louder and louder, and then to abuse thecrew for not obeying his orders. Flash after flash of lightningrevealed him still waving his arm; his hat had fallen off, and his longgrizzly hair flew wildly about his head. He seemed unaware of thedanger of his position and indifferent to the seas which frequentlydashed over him. He was thus seen standing, when a sea rose high abovethe half-submerged hull, and rolling over the after part, struck themizen-top. A loud shriek was heard, and by the glare of a flash offorked lightning, the unhappy officer, the victim of hard drinking, wasseen borne away amid its foaming waters. In vain he stretched out hisarms to catch at floating ropes; in vain he struck out boldly towardsthe ship, and shouted to his men to help him. His strength was asnothing, no aid could be given, and in another instant the waves closedfor ever over his head. O'Grady was the only other officer notaccounted for. He had been below, and it was to be hoped had got to theupper side and had thus escaped being drowned. While his messmates wereinquiring for him, his voice was heard shouting for help. He hadclambered up through a hatchway, scarcely knowing what had occurred.Reuben Cole and Paul helped him up to the main-chains. Devereux andAlphonse bore up wonderfully well. The former especially showed whatspirit and courage ran do under difficulties and hardships.

  "I wish that the day were come," said Paul more than once.

  "It's what many have wished before, boy, and if has come in good time,"answered Reuben.

  "There's just only one thing for it, and that's patience, as SandyMcPherson, an old shipmate of mine, used to say whenever he was introuble."

  The dawn did come at last, but it was very grey and very cold; but thewind and sea had gone down and the ship was still afloat. Whether shecould be saved was the first question asked by all. Devereux was nowsenior officer, but his experience was very limited.

  "I wish that I had attended more to this sort of thing," he observed toO'Grady. "I never thought of the possibility of this happening tomyself."

  "Faith, I can't say that I ever thought much about it either," answeredthe other midshipman. "But I think that we couldn't do better than tofollow old Noakes's last order, to cut away the masts. If the shipkeeps on her side much longer, she'll go down, that's pretty certain."

  "It's very well to give the order, but where are the axes to cut with?"asked Devereux.

  "Well, to be sure, I didn't think about that," answered O'Grady. "ButI'll volunteer to go and search for them, and probably others will comeand help me."

  "I will, sir," exclaimed Paul, who overheard the conversation.

  "And so will I," said Reuben Cole; "and what is more, even if the shipdoes not go down, we shall starve if we don't, for there isn't a scrapof food among any of us."

  Alphonse also expressed his readiness to go on the expedition, butO'Grady begged that he would remain and take care of Devereux. No timewas to be lost. As soon as there was sufficient light for them to see,securing themselves by ropes, they slipped through a port anddisappeared. Devereux, who was unfit for any exertion, remained in thechains. Some minutes passed. He became at last very anxious about hiscompanions. He shouted to them, but no one replied. It appeared to himthat the ship was turning over more, and settling deeper than before inthe water.

  "They have only gone a short time before me," he thought. "It mattersbut little, yet how unfit I am to die. But I must not yield without astruggle. People in our circumstances have formed rafts and escaped;why should not we? Though without food, or water, or compass, or chart,we shall be badly off." He proposed his plan to Alphonse and the peoplenear him. All promised to obey his directions. They were on the pointof climbing along the masts to get at the lighter spars, when Paul pokedhis head through a port, flourishing above it an axe.

  "We've found them, we've found them," he shouted; "but there's no timeto be lost, for the water is already making its way through thehatches."

  The rest of the party appearing, corroborated this statement. Devereuxroused up his energies and distributed his crew, some at the masts, andthe rest at the shrouds.

  "Cut off all, and cut together!" he shouted. In a minute every shroudand stay and mast was cut through. The effect was instantaneous. Theship rolled up on an even keel so rapidly, that Devereux and those withhim could with difficulty climb over the bulwarks to regain the deck.Their condition was but little improved, for so much water had got downbelow, that it seemed improbable the ship could swim long, and there shelay a dismasted wreck in the middle of the wide Atlantic. The youngcommander's first wish was to endeavour to clear the ship of water, butthe pumps were choked, and long before the water could be bailed out,another gale might spring up and the ship go down, even supposing therewas no leak. It was probable, however, that from the quantity of waterin her she had already sprung a serious leak. Every boat on board hadbeen washed away or destroyed when the ship went over. Blank dismay wasvisible on the countenances of even some of the boldest of the crew.The masts and spars were, however, still hanging by the lee riggingalongside.

  "We could make a stout raft anyhow," observed Reuben.

  T
he idea was taken up by the rest. There was a chance of life.Devereux gave orders that a raft should be formed.

  "But we'll be starving entirely, if we don't get up some provisions,"observed O'Grady.

  "May I go and collect them?" asked Paul. "Stronger people than I can beworking at the raft."

  "And I will go too," said Alphonse, when Paul had obtained thepermission asked.

  They found, however, that most of the casks and jars in the officers'cabins had been upset and their contents washed away, while there wasalready so much water in the hold, that they could not get up anythingfrom it. A cheese, some bottles of spirits, and a small cask of wetbiscuit, were all they could collect. While groping about in the hold,it appeared to them that the water was rising; if so, the ship must havesprung a serious leak. With the scanty supply of provisions they hadobtained, they hurried on deck to report what they had remarked.Considerable progress had been made with the raft, but without food andwater it could only tend to prolong their misery. Reuben, with threeother men, were therefore ordered below, to get up any more provisionswhich they could find. They very soon returned with the only thingsthey could reach,--a small cask of pork, another of biscuit, and a kegof butter. Water was, however, most required, and it was not to beobtained. It was evident, too, that the ship was settling down more andmore, and that no time must be lost in getting the raft finished. Allhands now worked with the knowledge that their lives depended on theirexertions, rapidly passing the numerous lashings in a way of whichsailors alone are capable. Even before it was completed, the smallamount of provisions which had been collected were placed on it, for allknew that at any moment it might prove their only ark of safety.

  Devereux had no occasion to urge his men to increased exertion. A sailand spars for a mast, and yards and rudder were got ready. At lengthall the preparations were concluded.

  "To the raft! to the raft!" was the cry, for the ship had sunk so lowthat the water was already running through the scuppers. Gradually shewent down; the raft was slightly agitated by the vortex formed as thewaters closed over her, and then it floated calmly on the wide ocean.

  The crew looked at each other for some time without speaking. Devereuxwas very young to be placed in so trying a position, still he saw thathe must maintain discipline among those under his command, and preventthem from sinking into a state of despondency. There was much to bedone; the mast to be rigged, the sail to be fitted, and a rudder formed.It was necessary also to secure the articles on the raft, and all beingdone, he steered a course for the west, hoping to reach one of the WestIndia Islands.

  Paul had often when at home pictured such a scene as that in which hewas now taking a part, but how far short did the scene he had drawn comeof the reality! Scarcely had the ship disappeared than the wind felland the sea became like glass, while the sun shone with intense heat onthe unprotected heads of the seamen.

  "Reuben, can I ask for a mug of water, do you think? I am dreadfullythirsty," said Paul.

  Reuben looked at him with compassion. "Every drop of water we've got isworth its weight in gold and many times more," he answered. "It will beserved out to us in thimblefuls, and each officer and man will sharealike. It will be well for us if it even thus lasts till we make theland or get picked up."

  Not a mouthful of food had been eaten since the previous evening.

  "It's mighty like starving we are," observed O'Grady; "we had betterbegin to eat a little, or we shall grow so ravenous, that it will be nosmall allowance will satisfy us."

  "You are right, Paddy," said Devereux, rousing himself up. "Ascertainwhat quantity we have, and calculate how long it will last."

  O'Grady commenced the examination as directed. He soon reported thatthere was enough food to support life for eight, or perhaps, ten days.

  "And water?" asked Devereux.

  "Not for eight," was the answer.

  "Heaven preserve us!" ejaculated Devereux. "It will take us double thattime to reach the land!"

  The provisions were served out with the greatest care and in equalportions. The people on the raft suffered more from heat than from anyother cause. The sea remained perfectly calm, the sun sank down, anddarkness reigned over the ocean. It was their first night on the raft.Who could say how many more they might have to spend on it? Devereuxdid his best to keep up the courage of his men, but in spite of all hecould say, the spirits of many sank low. He encouraged them to tellstories, to narrate their adventures, to sing songs, and he himself tookevery opportunity of talking of the future, and spoke confidently ofwhat he would do when they should reach the shore. Paul felt veryunhappy. He was hungry and thirsty, and that alone lowers the spirits.The men were grouped round their officers in the centre of the raft.Paul was sitting near Reuben.

  "I don't think that I shall ever live through this," he said, taking hisfriend's hand. "You are strong, Reuben, and you may weather it out. Ifyou do, you'll go and tell my poor mother and sisters how it allhappened and what became of me. Tell them that if I had lived I might,perhaps, have been placed on the quarter-deck and become a captain or anadmiral; but that dream is all over now."

  "As to that being a dream, a dream it is, Paul," said Reuben; "but as toyour living and turning out a good seaman, I've no fear about that, myboy," he added cheerfully. "You see, there's One above cares for us,and if we pray to Him He'll send us help."

  The night passed on, the stars shone brightly down from the pure sky,the waters flashed with phosphorescence, the inhabitants of the deepcame up to the surface to breathe, while not a breath of air ruffled theface of the ocean. Except two appointed to keep watch, all on the raftsoon sank into a deep sleep. They were awoke by the hot sun beatingdown on their heads; then they again wished for night. As the rays ofthe sun came down with fiercer force their thirst increased, but no oneasked for more than his small share of water. Those only who haveendured thirst know the intensity of the suffering it causes. Devereuxhad no more able supporter than Alphonse, who had saved his well-belovedviolin. The moment the young Frenchman saw that the spirits of thepeople were sinking, he pulled it from its case, and putting it to hischin, began scraping away with right good will; now a merry, now apathetic air. The excitable state of the nerves of the seamen was shownby the effect he produced. On hearing the merry tunes they burst intoshouts of laughter; with the pathetic, even the roughest melted intotears. Alphonse played on till his arm ached, and scarcely was herested before they begged him to go on again. Before the day closed,however, several of the party appeared to be sinking into a state ofapathy, scarcely knowing where they were, or what they were saying.Some clamoured loudly for food, but Devereux mildly but firmly refusedto allow any one to have more than his allotted share. Paul looked athim with a respect he had never before felt. He seemed so cool andcollected, so different from the careless, thoughtless midshipman he hadappeared on board the frigate. He had evidently risen to thedifficulties of his position. He well knew, indeed, that the lives ofall the party would depend in a great measure on his firmness anddecision; at the same time, he knew that all he could do might availthem nothing. He also felt compassion for Paul, who was the youngestperson on the raft. He had brought him away from the frigate, and itwas very probable that he would be one of the first to sink under thehardships to which they were exposed. Paul was not aware that Devereux,when serving out the food, gave him a portion of his own scanty share,in the hopes that his strength might be thus better supported and hislife prolonged. Another night passed by, and when the sun rose, itshone as before on a glassy sea. There was no sign of a breeze, andwithout a breeze no ship could approach the raft, nor could the raftmake progress towards the land. Still Devereux persevered as before inendeavouring to keep up the spirits of his men. Alphonse and his fiddlewere in constant requisition, and in spite of his own suffering, as longas he could keep his bow moving, he played on with right good will.When Alphonse grew weary, Devereux called for a tale; now for a song;now he told one of his own adv
entures, or some adventure he had heard.

  "Come, O'Grady, you used to be one of the best singers in the berth tillthe Frenchman's shot knocked you over; try what you can do now!" heexclaimed, so that all might hear. "Never mind the tune, only let it besomething comic, for a change," he added in a whisper; "you and I mustnot let the rest know what we feel."

  "I'll do my best, though, faith, it's heavy work to sing with an emptystomach," answered O'Grady. "However, here goes:--

  "'Twas on November, the second day, The Admiral he bore away, Intending for his native shore; The wind at south-south-west did roar, There likewise was a terrible sky, Which made the sea to run mountains high.

  "The tide of ebb not being done, But quickly to the west did run, Which put us all in dreadful fear, Because there was not room to wear; The wind and weather increased sore. Which drove ten sail of us ashore.

  "Ashore went the _Northumberland_, The _Harwich_ and the _Cumberland_, The _Cloister_ and the _Lion_, too; But the _Elizabeth_, she had most to rue, She ran stem on and her _Lion_ broke, And sunk the _Cambridge_ at one stroke.

  "But the worst is what I have to tell, The greatest ships had the greatest fall; The brave `_Crounation_' and all her men, Was lost and drownded every one, Except a little midshipman and eighteen more Who in the long-boat comed ashore.

  "And thus they lost their precious lives, But the greatest loss was unto their wives, Who, with their children, left ashore, Their husbands' watery death deplore; And weep their fate with many of tears, But grief endureth not for years.

  "Now you who've a mind to go to sea, Pray take a useful hint from me; Oh! stay at home and be content With what kind Providence has sent; For these were punish'd unto their deeds, For grumbling when they had no needs.

  "Now may Heaven bless our worthy King, Likewise his ministers we sing, And may they ever steer a course, To make things better 'stead of worse; And England's flag triumphant fly, The dread of every enemy."

  O'Grady's song, though often heard before, was received with no lessapplause in consequence. Other songs followed, but the effort wasgreater than many of the seamen could make. Several attempted to tellstories or their own adventures, but the former had no ending, and theyvery soon lost the thread of their adventures. Then they wanderedstrangely; some stopped altogether; others laughed and criedalternately. Even Devereux could with difficulty keep command of hisown senses. Food and a few drops of precious water were distributedamong the sufferers; without it, few could have survived another night.That night came, however, and that night passed, though some on the rafthad passed away from life when another sun arose.

  Paul more than once asked himself, "Why did I come to sea?"

  Reuben overheard him. "To my mind, Paul, when a person has done what hebelieves is for the best and because he thinks it is right, he has nocause to grumble or to be unhappy," he observed in his quiet way."Don't you fear, all will turn out right at last."

  Paul felt weaker than he had ever done before, and his eye was dim andhis voice sounded hollow, and yet his thoughts flowed as freely as ever.He was fully aware that death might be approaching, yet he had no fearof death. He thought of home and of his mother and sisters, and heprayed for them, and that they might not grieve very much at his loss.He was but a poor young ship-boy, but he knew that his mother wouldmourn for him as much as would the mother of Devereux, or any otherhigh-born midshipman on board.

  The sun rose higher and higher in the sky: its rays struck down as hotlyas on the day before. "Water! water! water!" was the cry from all onthe raft; still discipline prevailed, though only a young midshipman wasthe chief, and not a man attempted to take more than his share. Atabout noon Paul was feeling that he could not endure many more hours ofsuch thirst, when he saw Reuben's eyes directed to the north-east.

  "Yes! yes! it is! it is!" exclaimed Reuben at length.

  "What! a ship?" asked Paul, almost breathless with eagerness.

  "No, but a breeze," cried his friend. "It may carry us to land; it maysend us rain! it may bring up a ship to our rescue."

  All eyes were now turned in the direction from which the breeze wassupposed to be coming. At the edge of the hitherto unvarying expanse ofmolten silver, a dark blue line was seen; broader and broader it grew.With such strength as they possessed the seamen hoisted their sail. Itbulged out and again flattened against the mast; now again it filled,and the raft began to glide slowly over the ocean. A faint cheer burstfrom the throats of the hitherto despairing crew; yet how many longleagues must be passed over before that raft could reach the land! Howmany of those now living on it would set foot on that land? Tooprobably not one--not one. Day after day the raft glided on, but eachday death claimed a victim. Still, Devereux and O'Grady and Alphonsekept up their spirits in a way which appealed wonderful to Paul, till hefound that he was himself equally resolved to bear up to the last.There was still some food; still a few drops of water. Rain might come;the wind was increasing; clouds were gathering in the sky; the sea wasgetting up, and the raft, though still progressing, was tossed about ina way which made those on it feel the risk they ran of being thrown orwashed off it. They secured themselves with lashings. Again the waterwas served out. A mouthful was given to Paul.

  "Poor boy! let him have it," he heard Devereux say; "it is the lastdrop."

  Now more than ever was rain prayed for. Without rain, should no succourcome, in a few days the sufferings of all the party would be over.Faster and faster the raft drove on. It was well constructed, or itwould not have held together. Still they dared not lessen their sail.Land might be reached at last if they would persevere. Now they rose tothe summit of a foaming sea, now they sank into the deep trough. Itseemed every instant that the next must see the destruction of the raft,yet, like hope in a young bosom, it still floated buoyantly over theraging billows. Now dark clouds were gathering. Eagerly they werewatched by the seamen with upturned eyes. A few drops fell. They werewelcomed with a cry of joy. More came, and then the rain fell intorrents. Their parched throats were moistened, but unless they couldspread their sail to collect the precious fluid, they could save butlittle for the future. Still, life is sweet, and they might obtainenough to preserve their lives for another day. As they dared not lowertheir sail, they stretched out their jackets and shirts, and wrung themas they were saturated with fresh water into the only cask they hadsaved. Before it was a quarter full the rain ceased. They watched withjealous eyes the clouds driving away below the horizon, while the sunshone forth as brightly as before on their unguarded heads. Still theraft tumbled furiously about, and with the utmost difficulty the seamenretained their hold of it. Night returned; it was a night of horror.Their provisions were exhausted. When the morning at length broke, twowho had been among the strongest were missing. They must have let gotheir hold while sleeping and been washed away.

  "It may be our lot soon," observed Paul, whose strength was failing.

  "The same hand which has hitherto preserved us few still alive on thisraft is strong to preserve us to the end," said James Croxton, an oldseaman, who, even on ordinary occasions said but little, and had onlyspoken since the ship went down to utter a few words of encouragement tohis companions. He was known on board the frigate as Jim the Methodist,but was respected by the greater number of his shipmates. "Never fear,mates, help will come if we pray for it, though we don't see the Handwhich sends it. Let us pray."

  Jim's words and example had a great effect. It was followed by all, andthe united prayers of the seamen, acknowledging their own utterhelplessness, ascended together on high. One and all seemed to gain astrength they had not before felt. The raft continued to be tossedabout as before, and the hot wind blew, and the sun shone on theirunsheltered heads. The sun rose higher and higher and then descended,watched anxiously by the seamen till it dipped below the horizon. Couldany of them expect to see another sun arise? They seldom spoke to eachother during the night. The voice of Ji
m Croxton was now mostfrequently heard, exhorting his companions to repentance, and to puttheir faith in the loving and merciful One. When the morning broke theywere all alive, and the voice of Reuben, who had dragged himself uprightby the mast, was heard crying, "A sail! a sail! standing towards us!"

  The information was received in various ways by the people on the raft;some laughed, others wept, a few prayed, and others groaned, declaringthat they should not be seen, and that the ship would pass them by. OldCroxton, however, who had simply poured forth his heart in a few wordsof thanksgiving, kept his eyes steadily on the approaching ship.

  "She is nearing us! she is nearing us!" he uttered slowly every now andthen.

  Paul gasped his breath, and felt as if he should faint away altogether,as he saw that the ship was a British man-of-war, and that the raft wasevidently perceived by those on board. She drew nearer and nearer, and,heaving to, lowered two boats, which rapidly approached the raft. Inthat tumbling sea there was no small difficulty in getting close enoughto the raft to take off the people. Paul, as the youngest, was thefirst to be transferred by his companions to the nearest boat. Even atthat moment he was struck by the expression of the countenances of mostof the crew. No one smiled; no one seemed pleased at the work of mercythey were performing.

  "You think, youngster, that you'll be changing for the better, gettingoff your raft aboard that frigate there?" growled out one of the men, asPaul was passed along forward. "You've got out of the frying-pan intothe fire, let me tell you. It's a perfect hell afloat, and to my mindthe captain's the--"

  "Silence there, forward!" shouted the officer in command of the boat."Back in again."

  One by one the people were taken off the raft. Devereux insisted onremaining to the last, and he was taken off in the second boat. Nosooner had he been placed in her than several of her crew leaped on tothe raft.

  "Better run the chance of a watery grave than live aboard there,"shouted one of the men, attempting to hoist the sail which had beenlowered. "Hurrah, lads! for the coast of America and freedom!"

  "Back into the boat: back, you mutinous scoundrels!" shouted the officerin command. "What foolery are you about? If you were to go, and smallloss you would be, you would all of you be dead before a week was over.Back, I say."

  In vain the men tried to hoist the sail. The mast gave way, throwingone of them into the sea. He made an attempt to save himself, but sankin sight of his shipmates. The boat was soon again dropped alongsidethe raft, and the men with sulky indifference returned on board. Verylittle was said by anybody as the boats pulled back to the frigate. Theofficers, indeed, saw that those they had taken off the raft were in nocondition to answer questions. Devereux and his companions were liftedup on deck, and from thence at once transferred to the sick bay belowunder the doctor's care. Paul, after a sound sleep, recovered hissenses, and very soon perceived, that although there was strictdiscipline maintained on board, each person went about his duty in adull, mechanical way. Reuben was, however, on foot before Paul. Hecame to the side of the hammock in which the latter still lay unable tomove.

  "I am thankful, Reuben, that we are safe off that dreadful raft," saidPaul.

  "No reason to call it dreadful, boy. It was our ark of safety, as JimCroxton says, rightly, and we should be grateful that we were allowed tobe saved by it. There's many here, as you saw, would rather be on thatraft than aboard this fine frigate," answered Reuben.

  "Why? what is the matter with the ship?" asked Paul.

  "Why, just this," answered his friend; "the captain is a tyrant; many ofthe officers imitate him, and altogether the men's lives are miserable.The ship is a complete hell afloat."

  Several days passed by; the frigate was steering for the West Indies,which were sighted soon after Paul had managed to creep on deck. He sawthe men casting wistful glances at the land.

  "If once I set my foot ashore, it will take a dozen red coats to carryme aboard again!" exclaimed a seaman near him.

  "Ay, Bill, it's a dog's life we lead; but there's a way to freeourselves if we were men enough to use it," said another.

  "It's not the first time that has been thought of," observed a third."But hush, mates, that boy may hear; he looks like a sharp one."

  The men were silent till Paul walked farther aft, where he saw themstill earnestly engaged in talking together. He considered what heought to do. Should he tell Devereux what he had heard? Perhaps, afterall, it meant nothing. He could trust Reuben; that is to say, Reubenwould not betray him; but he might take part with the men. He wouldconsult Croxton. He found old Jim after some time, but had noopportunity of speaking to him alone. There was an ominous scowl on thecountenances of all the men, which confirmed his suspicions thatsomething was wrong. Below they gathered together more in knots thanusual, speaking in subdued voices. Whenever an officer approached, theywere silent, and generally dispersed with an appearance of indifference.Thus two or three more days passed, and Paul felt as well able as everto do his duty. It was the forenoon watch; the men were summoned todivisions. It was perfectly calm; no land was in sight; the sun struckdown fiercely on their heads.

  "There's work in hand for us to-day," exclaimed a topman, as he sprangon deck.

  In a little time the order to furl sails was given. The men flew aloft.

  "Reef topsails," cried the first-lieutenant.

  The men appeared to do the work slowly. Oaths and curses were hurled atthem by the officers on duty. Paul took the opportunity of going downto see Devereux, who, with O'Grady and Alphonse, was still too weak togo on deck. He told him that he was afraid something was wrong.Devereux answered--

  "I fear that the men are dissatisfied, but they dare do nothing. I pitythem, though, poor fellows."

  The words were overheard by some of the idlers, as they are calledbelow. While Paul was speaking to Devereux, Croxton came in. He alsoheard what had been said.

  "Man is born to suffer," he remarked. "He must submit, and leave therighting in the hands of Providence. He cannot right himself."

  His remarks were scarcely understood by those who heard him, even byDevereux, who, however, remembered them. After a time, Paul returned ondeck. The captain was still exercising the men at furling sails. Withwatch in hand he stood on the quarter-deck, his rage increasing as hefound that they could not or would not accomplish the work in the timehe desired. At length he shouted in a voice which made the blood runcold in Paul's veins--

  "The last men in off the yards shall get four dozen for their pains.Remember that, ye scoundrels! Away aloft!"

  Again the men ascended the rigging. The sails were furled. Two activeyoung topmen on the mizen-yard made an attempt to spring over the backsof the rest. They missed their hold. With a fearful crash they felltogether on the deck.

  "Throw the lubbers overboard!" exclaimed the captain, kickingcontemptuously their mangled remains.

  These words were the signal of his own destruction. The men, regardlessof his threats, sprang below.

  "Vengeance! vengeance!" was the cry.

  The first-lieutenant who ventured among them was cut down, and while yetbreathing, hove overboard. Others who appeared met with the same fate.The mutineers then rushed to the captain's cabin. He stood fiercely atbay, but in vain. Bleeding from countless wounds, he was forced throughthe stern port. His last words were, "Vengeance! vengeance! vengeance!"Fearfully it was paid.