Jack Tier; Or, The Florida Reef

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by James Fenimore Cooper


  CHAPTER VII.

  The screams of rage, the groan, the strife, The blow, the grasp, the horrid cry, The panting, throttled prayer for life, The dying’s heaving sigh, The murderer’s curse, the dead man’s fixed, still glare, And fear’s and death’s cold sweat--they all are there.

  Matthew Lee.

  It was high time that Captain Spike should arrive when his foot touchedthe bottom of the yawl. The men were getting impatient and anxious tothe last degree, and the power of Señor Montefalderon to control themwas lessening each instant. They heard the rending of timber, and thegrinding on the coral, even more distinctly than the captain himself,and feared that the brig would break up while they lay alongside of her,and crush them amid the ruins. Then the spray of the seas that brokeover the weather side of the brig, fell like rain upon them; andeverybody in the boat was already as wet as if exposed to a violentshower. It was well, therefore, for Spike that he descended into theboat as he did, for another minute’s delay might have brought about hisown destruction.

  Spike felt a chill at his heart when he looked about him and saw thecondition of the yawl. So crowded were the stern-sheets into which hehad descended, that it was with difficulty he found room to place hisfeet; it being his intention to steer, Jack was ordered to get into theeyes of the boat, in order to give him a seat. The thwarts were crowded,and three or four of the people had placed themselves in the very bottomof the little craft, in order to be as much as possible out of the way,as well as in readiness to bail out water. So seriously, indeed, wereall the seamen impressed with the gravity of this last duty, that nearlyevery man had taken with him some vessel fit for such a purpose. Rowingwas entirely out of the question, there being no space for the movementof the arms. The yawl was too low in the water, moreover, for such anoperation in so heavy a sea. In all, eighteen persons were squeezed intoa little craft that would have been sufficiently loaded, for moderateweather at sea, with its four oarsmen and as many sitters in thestern-sheets, with, perhaps, one in the eyes to bring her more on aneven keel. In other words, she had twice the weight in her, in livingfreight, that it would have been thought prudent to receive in so smalla craft, in an ordinary time, in or out of a port. In addition to thehuman beings enumerated, there was a good deal of baggage, nearly everyindividual having had the forethought to provide a few clothes for achange. The food and water did not amount to much, no more having beenprovided than enough for the purposes of the captain, together with thefour men with whom it had been his intention to abandon the brig. Theeffect of all this cargo was to bring the yawl quite low in the water;and every sea-faring man in her had the greatest apprehensions about herbeing able to float at all when she got out from under the lee of theSwash, or into the troubled water. Try it she must, however, and Spike,in a reluctant and hesitating manner, gave the final order to “Shoveoff!”

  The yawl carried a lugg, as is usually the case with boats at sea, andthe first blast of the breeze upon it satisfied Spike that his presententerprise was one of the most dangerous of any in which he had everbeen engaged. The puffs of wind were quite as much as the boat wouldbear; but this he did not mind, as he was running off before it, andthere was little danger of the yawl capsizing with such a weight in her.It was also an advantage to have swift way on, to prevent the combingwaves from shooting into the boat, though the wind itself scarceoutstrips the send of the sea in a stiff blow. As the yawl clearedthe brig and began to feel the united power of the wind and waves, thefollowing short dialogue occurred between the boatswain and Spike.

  “I dare not keep my eyes off the breakers ahead,” the captain commenced,“and must trust to you, Strand, to report what is going on among theman-of-war’s men. What is the ship about?”

  “Reefing her top-sails just now, sir. All three are on the caps, and thevessel is laying-to, in a manner.”

  “And her boats?”

  “I see none, sir--ay, ay, there they come from alongside of her ina little fleet! There are four of them, sir, and all are coming downbefore the wind, wing and wing, carrying their luggs reefed.”

  “Ours ought to be reefed by rights, too, but we dare not stop to do it;and these infernal combing seas seem ready to glance aboard us with allthe way we can gather. Stand by to bail, men; we must pass through astrip of white water--there is no help for it. God send that we go clearof the rocks!”

  All this was fearfully true. The adventurers were not yet more than acable’s length from the brig, and they found themselves so completelyenvironed with the breakers as to be compelled to go through them. Noman in his senses would ever have come into such a place at all, exceptin the most unavoidable circumstances; and it was with a species ofdespair that the seamen of the yawl now saw their little craft goplunging into the foam.

  But Spike neglected no precaution that experience or skill couldsuggest. He had chosen his spot with coolness and judgment. As the boatrose on the seas he looked eagerly ahead, and by giving it a timelysheer, he hit a sort of channel, where there was sufficient water tocarry them clear of the rock, and where the breakers were less dangerousthan in the shoaler places. The passage lasted about a minute; andso serious was it, that scarce an individual breathed until it waseffected. No human skill could prevent the water from combing in overthe gunwales; and when the danger was passed, the yawl was a thirdfilled with water. There was no time or place to pause, but on thelittle craft was dragged almost gunwale to, the breeze coming againstthe lugg in puffs that threatened to take the mast out of her. All handswere bailing; and even Biddy used her hands to aid in throwing out thewater.

  “This is no time to hesitate, men,” said Spike, sternly. “Everythingmust go overboard but the food and water. Away with them at once, andwith a will.”

  It was a proof how completely all hands were alarmed by this, the firstexperiment in the breakers, that not a man stayed his hand a singlemoment, but each threw into the sea, without an instant of hesitation,every article he had brought with him and had hoped to save. Biddyparted with the carpet-bag, and Señor Montefalderon, feeling theimportance of example, committed to the deep a small writing-desk thathe had placed on his knees. The doubloons alone remained, safe in alittle locker where Spike had deposited them along with his own.

  “What news astern, boatswain?” demanded the captain, as soon as thisimminent danger was passed, absolutely afraid to turn his eyes off thedangers ahead for a single instant. “How come on the man-of-war’s men?”

  “They are running down in a body toward the wreck, though one of theirboats does seem to be sheering out of the line, as if getting into ourwake. It is hard to say, sir, for they are still a good bit to windwardof the wreck.”

  “And the Molly, Strand?”

  “Why, sir, the Molly seems to be breaking up fast; as well as I can see,she has broke in two just abaft the forechains, and cannot hold togetherin any shape at all many minutes longer.”

  This information drew a deep groan from Spike, and the eye of everyseaman in the boat was turned in melancholy on the object they were sofast leaving behind them. The yawl could not be said to be sailing veryrapidly, considering the power of the wind, which was a little gale,for she was much too deep for that, but she left the wreck so fast asalready to render objects on board her indistinct. Everybody saw that,like an overburthened steed, she had more to get along with than shecould well bear; and, dependent as seamen usually are on the judgmentand orders of their superiors, even in the direst emergencies, theleast experienced man in her saw that their chances of final escape fromdrowning were of the most doubtful nature. The men looked at each otherin a way to express their feelings; and the moment seemed favourableto Spike to confer with his confidential sea-dogs in private; but morewhite water was also ahead, and it was necessary to pass through it,since no opening was visible by which to avoid it. He deferred hispurpose, consequently, until this danger was escaped.

  On this occasion Spike saw but little opportunity to select a place toget through the breakers, though the spot, as a who
le, was not of themost dangerous kind. The reader will understand that the preservation ofthe boat at all, in white water, was owing to the circumstance that therocks all around it lay so near the surface of the sea as to preventthe possibility of agitating the element very seriously, and to the factthat she was near the lee side of the reef. Had the breakers been of themagnitude of those which are seen where the deep rolling billows of theocean first meet the weather side of shoals or rocks, a craft of thatsize, and so loaded, could not possibly have passed the first line ofwhite water without filling. As it was, however, the breakers she hadto contend with were sufficiently formidable, and they brought withthem the certainty that the boat was in imminent danger of striking thebottom at any moment. Places like those in which Mulford had wadedon the reef, while it was calm, would now have proved fatal to thestrongest frame, since human powers were insufficient long to withstandthe force of such waves as did glance over even these shallows.

  “Look out!” cried Spike, as the boat again plunged in among the whitewater. “Keep bailing, men--keep bailing.”

  The men did bail, and the danger was over almost as soon as encountered.Something like a cheer burst out of the chest of Spike, when he sawdeeper water around him, and fancied he could now trace a channel thatwould carry him quite beyond the extent of the reef. It was arrested,only half uttered, however, by a communication from the boatswain, whosat on a midship thwart, his arms folded, and his eye on the brig andthe boats.

  “There goes the Molly’s masts, sir! Both have gone together; and as goodsticks was they, before them bomb-shells passed through our rigging, aswas ever stepped in a keelson.”

  The cheer was changed to something like a groan, while a murmur ofregret passed through the boat.

  “What news from the man-of-war’s men, boatswain? Do they still standdown on a mere wreck?”

  “No, sir; they seem to give it up, and are getting out their oars topull back to their ship. A pretty time they’ll have of it, too. Thecutter that gets to windward half a mile in an hour, ag’in such a sea,and such a breeze, must be well pulled and better steered. One chap,however, sir, seems to hold on.”

  Spike now ventured to look behind him, commanding an experienced hand totake the helm. In order to do this he was obliged to change placeswith the man he had selected to come aft, which brought him on a thwartalongside of the boatswain and one or two other of his confidants. Herea whispered conference took place, which lasted several minutes, Spikeappearing to be giving instructions to the men.

  By this time the yawl was more than a mile from the wreck, all theman-of-war boats but one had lowered their sails, and were pullingslowly and with great labour back toward the ship, the cutter that kepton, evidently laying her course after the yawl, instead of standing ontoward the wreck. The brig was breaking up fast, with every probabilitythat nothing would be left of her in a few more minutes. As for theyawl, while clear of the white water, it got along without receivingmany seas aboard, though the men in its bottom were kept bailing withoutintermission. It appeared to Spike that so long as they remained onthe reef, and could keep clear of breakers--a most difficult thing,however--they should fare better than if in deeper water, where theswell of the sea, and the combing of the waves, menaced so small andso deep-loaded a craft with serious danger. As it was, two or three mencould barely keep the boat clear, working incessantly, and much of thetime with a foot or two of water in her.

  Josh and Simon had taken their seats, side by side, with that sort ofdependence and submission that causes the American black to abstainfrom mingling with the whites more than might appear seemly. They weresqueezed on to one end of the thwart by a couple of robust old sea-dogs,who were two of the very men with whom Spike had been in consultation.Beneath that very thwart was stowed another confidant, to whomcommunications had also been made. These men had sailed long in theSwash, and having been picked up in various ports, from time to time, asthe brig had wanted hands, they were of nearly as many different nationsas they were persons. Spike had obtained a great ascendency over them byhabit and authority, and his suggestions were now received as a sort oflaw. As soon as the conference was ended, the captain returned to thehelm.

  A minute more passed, during which the captain was anxiously surveyingthe reef ahead, and the state of things astern. Ahead was more whitewater--the last before they should get clear of the reef; and astern itwas now settled that the cutter that held on through the dangers of theplace, was in chase of the yawl. That Mulford was in her Spike made nodoubt; and the thought embittered even his present calamities. But themoment had arrived for something decided. The white water ahead was muchmore formidable than any they had passed; and the boldest seamenthere gazed at it with dread. Spike made a sign to the boatswain, andcommenced the execution of his dire project.

  “I say, you Josh,” called out the captain, in the authoritative tonesthat are so familiar to all on board a ship, “pull in that fender thatis dragging alongside.”

  Josh leaned over the gunwale, and reported that there was no fender out.A malediction followed, also so familiar to those acquainted with ships,and the black was told to look again. This time, as had been expected,the negro leaned with his head and body far over the side of the yawl,to look for that which had no existence, when two of the men beneath thethwart shoved his legs after them. Josh screamed, as he found himselfgoing into the water, with a sort of confused consciousness ofthe truth; and Spike called out to Simon to “catch hold of hisbrother-nigger.” The cook bent forward to obey, when a similar assaulton _his_ legs from beneath the thwart, sent him headlong after Josh. Oneof the younger seamen, who was not in the secret, sprang up to rescueSimon, who grasped his extended hand, when the too generous fellow waspitched headlong from the boat.

  All this occurred in less than ten seconds of time, and so unexpectedlyand naturally, that not a soul beyond those who were in the secret,had the least suspicion it was anything but an accident. Some water wasshipped, of necessity, but the boat was soon bailed free. As for thevictims of this vile conspiracy, they disappeared amid the troubledwaters of the reef, struggling with each other. Each and all met thecommon fate so much the sooner, from the manner in which they impededtheir own efforts.

  The yawl was now relieved from about five hundred pounds of the weightit had carried--Simon weighing two hundred alone, and the youngishseaman being large and full. So intense does human selfishness get tobe, in moments of great emergency, that it is to be feared most of thosewho remained, secretly rejoiced that they were so far benefited bythe loss of their fellows. The Señor Montefalderon was seated on theaftermost thwart, with his legs in the stern-sheets, and consequentlywith his back toward the negroes, and he fully believed that what hadhappened was purely accidental.

  “Let us lower our sail, Don Esteban,” he cried, eagerly, “and save thepoor fellows.”

  Something very like a sneer gleamed on the dark countenance of thecaptain, but it suddenly changed to a look of assent.

  “Good!” he said, hastily--“spring forward, Don Wan, and lower thesail--stand by the oars, men!”

  Without pausing to reflect, the generous-hearted Mexican stepped on athwart, and began to walk rapidly forward, steadying himself by placinghis hands on the heads of the men. He was suffered to get as far asthe second thwart or past most of the conspirators, when his legs wereseized from behind. The truth now flashed on him, and grasping twoof the men in his front, who knew nothing of Spike’s dire scheme, heendeavoured to save himself by holding to their jackets. Thus assailed,those men seized others with like intent, and an awful struggle filledall that part of the craft. At this dread instant the boat glanced intothe white water, shipping so much of the element as nearly to swampher, and taking so wild a sheer as nearly to broach-to. This lastcircumstance probably saved her, fearful as was the danger for themoment. Everybody in the middle of the yawl was rendered desperateby the amount and nature of the danger incurred, and the men from thebottom rose in their might, underneath the combatants, when a
commonplunge was made by all who stood erect, one dragging overboard another,each a good deal hastened by the assault from beneath, until no lessthan five were gone. Spike got his helm up, the boat fell off, and awayfrom the spot it flew, clearing the breakers, and reaching the northernwall-like margin of the reef at the next instant. There was now a momentwhen those who remained could breathe, and dared to look behind them.

  The great plunge had been made in water so shoal, that the boat hadbarely escaped being dashed to pieces on the coral. Had it not been sosuddenly relieved from the pressure of near a thousand pounds in weight,it is probable that this calamity would have befallen it, the waterreceived on board contributing so much to weight it down. The strugglebetween these victims ceased, however, the moment they went over.Finding bottom for their feet, they released each other, in a desperatehope of prolonging life by wading. Two or three held out their arms, andshouted to Spike to return and pick them up. This dreadful scene lastedbut a single instant, for the waves dashed one after another from hisfeet, continually forcing them all, as they occasionally regained theirfooting, toward the margin of the reef, and finally washing them off itinto deep water. No human power could enable a man to swim back to therocks, once to leeward of them, in the face of such seas, and so heavya blow; and the miserable wretches disappeared in succession, as theirstrength became exhausted, in the depths of the Gulf.

  Not a word had been uttered while this terrific scene was in the courseof occurrence; not a word was uttered for some time afterward. Gleams ofgrim satisfaction had been seen on the countenances of the boatswain andhis associates, when the success of their nefarious project was firstassured; but they soon disappeared in looks of horror, as they witnessedthe struggles of the drowning men. Nevertheless, human selfishnesswas strong within them all, and none there was so ignorant as not toperceive how much better were the chances of the yawl now than it hadbeen on quitting the wreck. The weight of a large ox had been taken fromit, counting that of all the eight men drowned; and as for thewater shipped, it was soon bailed back again into the sea. Not only,therefore, was the yawl in a better condition to resist the waves, butit sailed materially faster than it had done before. Ten persons stillremained in it, however, which brought it down in the water below itsproper load-line; and the speed of a craft so small was necessarilya good deal lessened by the least deviation from its best sailing, orrowing trim. But Spike’s projects were not yet completed.

  All this time the man-of-war’s cutter had been rushing as madly throughthe breakers, in chase, as the yawl had done in the attempt to escape.Mulford was, in fact, on board it; and his now fast friend, Wallace, wasin command. The latter wished to seize a traitor, the former to save theaunt of his weeping bride. Both believed that they might follow whereverSpike dared to lead. This reasoning was more bold than judiciousnotwithstanding, since the cutter was much larger, and drew twice asmuch water as the yawl. On it came, nevertheless, faring much betterin the white water than the little craft it pursued, but necessarilyrunning a much more considerable risk of hitting the coral, over whichit was glancing almost as swiftly as the waves themselves; still it hadthus far escaped--and little did any in it think of the danger. Thiscutter pulled ten oars; was an excellent sea boat; had four armedmarines in it, in addition to its crew, but carried all through thebreakers, receiving scarcely a drop of water on board, on account of theheight of its wash-boards, and the general qualities of the craft. Itmay be well to add here, that the Poughkeepsie had shaken out her reefs,and was betraying the impatience of Captain Mull to make sail in chase,by firing signal-guns to his boats to bear a hand and return. Thesesignals the three boats under their oars were endeavouring to obey, butWallace had got so far to leeward as now to render the course he waspursuing the wisest.

  Mrs. Budd and Biddy had seen the struggle in which the SeñorMontefalderon had been lost, in a sort of stupid horror. Both hadscreamed, as was their wont, though neither probably suspected thetruth. But the fell designs of Spike extended to them, as well as tothose whom he had already destroyed. Now the boat was in deep water,running along the margin of the reef, the waves were much increased inmagnitude, and the comb of the sea was far more menacing to the boat.This would not have been the case had the rocks formed a lee; but theydid not, running too near the direction of the trades to prevent thebillows that got up a mile or so in the offing, from sending their swellquite home to the reef. It was this swell, indeed, which caused the lineof white water along the northern margin of the coral, washing on therocks by a sort of lateral effort, and breaking, as a matter of course.In many places, no boat could have lived to pass through it.

  Another consideration influenced Spike to persevere. The cutter had beenoverhauling him, hand over hand, but since the yawl was relieved of theweight of no less than eight men, the difference in the rate of sailingwas manifestly diminished. The man-of-war’s boat drew nearer, but by nomeans as fast as it had previously done. A point was now reached in thetrim of the yawl, when a very few hundreds in weight might make themost important change in her favour; and this change the captain wasdetermined to produce. By this time the cutter was in deep water, aswell as himself, safe through all the dangers of the reef, and she wasless than a quarter of a mile astern. On the whole, she was gaining,though so slowly as to require the most experienced eye to ascertain thefact.

  “Madame Budd,” said Spike, in a hypocritical tone, “we are in greatdanger, and I shall have to ask you to change your seat. The boat istoo much by the starn, now we’ve got into deep water, and your weightamidships would be a great relief to us. Just give your hand to theboatswain, and he will help you to step from thwart to thwart, until youreach the right place, when Biddy shall follow.”

  Now Mrs. Budd had witnessed the tremendous struggle in which so manyhad gone overboard, but so dull was she of apprehension, and so littledisposed to suspect anything one-half so monstrous as the truth, thatshe did not hesitate to comply. She was profoundly awed by the horrorsof the scene through which she was passing, the raging billows of theGulf, as seen from so small a craft, producing a deep impression on her;still a lingering of her most inveterate affectation was to be foundin her air and language, which presented a strange medley of besettingweakness, and strong, natural, womanly affection.

  “Certainly, Captain Spike,” she answered, rising. “A craft should nevergo astern, and I am quite willing to ballast the boat. We have seen suchterrible accidents today, that all should lend their aid in endeavouringto get under way, and in averting all possible hamper. Only take me tomy poor, dear Rosy, Captain Spike, and everything shall be forgottenthat has passed between us. This is not a moment to bear malice; andI freely pardon you all and everything. The fate of our unfortunatefriend, Mr. Montefalderon, should teach us charity, and cause us toprepare for untimely ends.”

  All the time the good widow was making this speech, which she uttered ina solemn and oracular sort of manner, she was moving slowly toward theseat the men had prepared for her, in the middle of the boat, assistedwith the greatest care and attention by the boatswain and another ofSpike’s confidants. When on the second thwart from aft, and about totake her seat, the boatswain cast a look behind him, and Spike put thehelm down. The boat luffed and lurched, of course, and Mrs. Budd wouldprobably have gone overboard to leeward, by so sudden and violent achange, had not the impetus thus received been aided by the arms of themen who held her two hands. The plunge she made into the water was deep,for she was a woman of great weight for her stature. Still, she was notimmediately gotten rid of. Even at that dread instant, it is probablethat the miserable woman did not suspect the truth, for she grasped thehand of the boatswain with the tenacity of a vice, and, thus dragged onthe surface of the boiling surges, she screamed aloud for Spike to saveher. Of all who had yet been sacrificed to the captain’s selfish wish tosave himself, this was the first instance in which any had been heard toutter a sound, after falling into the sea. The appeal shocked even therude beings around her, and Biddy chiming in with a powerful
appeal to“save the missus!” added to the piteous nature of the scene.

  “Cast off her hand,” said Spike reproachfully, “she’ll swamp the boat byher struggles--get rid of her at once! Cut her fingers off, if she wontlet go!”

  The instant these brutal orders were given, and that in a fierce,impatient tone, the voice of Biddy was heard no more. The truth forceditself on her dull imagination, and she sat a witness of the terriblescene, in mute despair. The struggle did not last long. The boatswaindrew his knife across the wrist of the hand that grasped his own, oneshriek was heard, and the boat plunged into the trough of a sea, leavingthe form of poor Mrs. Budd struggling with the wave on its summit, andamid the foam of its crest. This was the last that was ever seen of theunfortunate relict.

  “The boat has gained a good deal by that last discharge of cargo,” said Spike to the boatswain, a minute after they had gotten rid of thestruggling woman--“she is much more lively, and is getting nearer to herload-line. If we can bring her to _that,_ I shall have no fear of theman-of-war’s men; for this yawl is one of the fastest boats that everfloated.”

  “A very little _now,_ sir, would bring us to our true trim.”

  “Ay, we must get rid of more cargo. Come, good woman,” turning toBiddy, with whom he did not think it worth his while to use muchcircumlocution, “_your_ turn is next. It’s the maid’s duty to follow hermistress.”

  “I know’d it _must_ come,” said Biddy, meekly. “If there was no mercyfor the missus, little could I look for. But ye’ll not take the lifeof a Christian woman widout giving her so much as one minute to say herprayers?”

  “Ay, pray away,” answered Spike, his throat becoming dry and husky, for,strange to say, the submissive quiet of the Irish woman, so differentfrom the struggle he had anticipated with _her,_ rendered him morereluctant to proceed than he had hitherto been in all of that terribleday. As Biddy kneeled in the bottom of the stern-sheets, Spike lookedbehind him, for the double purpose of escaping the painful spectacle athis feet, and that of ascertaining how his pursuers came on. The laststill gained, though very slowly, and doubts began to come over thecaptain’s mind whether he could escape such enemies at all. He was toodeeply committed, however, to recede, and it was most desirable toget rid of poor Biddy, if it were for no other motive than to shuther mouth. Spike even fancied that some idea of what had passed wasentertained by those in the cutter. There was evidently a stir in thatboat, and two forms that he had no difficulty, now, in recognizing asthose of Wallace and Mulford, were standing on the grating in the eyesof the cutter, or forward of the foresail. The former appeared to havea musket in his hand, and the other a glass. The last circumstanceadmonished him that all that was now done would be done before dangerouswitnesses. It was too late to draw back, however, and the captain turnedto look for the Irish woman.

  Biddy arose from her knees, just as Spike withdrew his eyes from hispursuers. The boatswain and another confidant were in readiness to castthe poor creature into the sea, the moment their leader gave the signal.The intended victim saw and understood the arrangement, and she spokeearnestly and piteously to her murderers.

  “It’s not wanting will be violence!” said Biddy, in a quiet tone, butwith a saddened countenance. “I know it’s my turn, and I will save yersowls from a part of the burden of this great sin. God, and His DivineSon, and the Blessed Mother of Jesus have mercy on me if it be wrong;but I would far radder jump into the saa widout having the rude hands ofman on me, than have the dreadful sight of the missus done over ag’in.It’s a fearful thing is wather, and sometimes we have too little of it,and sometimes more than we want--”

  “Bear a hand, bear a hand, good woman,” interrupted the boatswain,impatiently. “We must clear the boat of you, and the sooner it is donethe better it will be for all of us.”

  “Don’t grudge a poor morthal half a minute of life, at the last moment,” answered Biddy. “It’s not long that I’ll throuble ye, and so no moreneed be said.”

  The poor creature then got on the quarter of the boat, without any one’stouching her; there she placed herself with her legs outboard, while shesat on the gunwale. She gave one moment to the thought of arranging herclothes with womanly decency, and then she paused to gaze with a fixedeye, and pallid cheek, on the foaming wake that marked the rapid courseof the boat. The troughs of the sea seemed less terrible to her thantheir combing crests, and she waited for the boat to descend into thenext.

  “God forgive ye all, this deed, as I do!” said Biddy, earnestly, andbending her person forward, she fell, as it might be “without hands,” into the gulf of eternity. Though all strained their eyes, none of themen, Jack Tier excepted, ever saw more of Biddy Noon. Nor did Jack seemuch. He got a frightful glimpse of an arm, however, on the summit ofa wave, but the motion of the boat was too swift, and the water of theocean too troubled, to admit of aught else.

  A long pause succeeded this event. Biddy’s quiet submission to her fatehad produced more impression on her murderers than the desperate, butunavailing, struggles of those who had preceded her. Thus it is everwith men. When opposed, the demon within blinds them to consequences aswell as to their duties; but, unresisted, the silent influence of theimage of God makes itself felt, and a better spirit begins to prevail.There was not one in that boat who did not, for a brief space, wish thatpoor Biddy had been spared. With most, that feeling, the last of humankindness they ever knew, lingered until the occurrence of the dreadcatastrophe which, so shortly after, closed the scene of this state ofbeing on their eyes.

  “Jack Tier,” called out Spike, some five minutes after Biddy wasdrowned, but not until another observation had made it plainly apparentto him that the man-of-war’s men still continued to draw nearer, beingnow not more than fair musket-shot astern.

  “Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, coming quietly out of his hole, fromforward of the mast, and moving aft as if indifferent to the danger,by stepping lightly from thwart to thwart, until he reached thestern-sheets.

  “It is your turn, little Jack,” said Spike, as if in a sort of sorrowfulsubmission to a necessity that knew no law, “we cannot spare you theroom.”

  “I have expected this, and am ready. Let me have my own way, and I willcause you no trouble. Poor Biddy has taught me how to die. Before I go,however, Stephen Spike, I must leave you this letter. It is written bymyself, and addressed to you. When I am gone, read it, and think well ofwhat it contains. And now, may a merciful God pardon the sins of both,through love for His Divine Son. I forgive you, Stephen; and should youlive to escape from those who are now bent on hunting you to the death,let this day cause you no grief on my account. Give me but a moment oftime, and I will cause you no trouble.”

  Jack now stood upon the seat of the stern-sheets, balancing himself withone foot on the stern of the boat. He waited until the yawl had risento the summit of a wave, when he looked eagerly for the man-of-war’scutter. At that moment she was lost to view in the trough of the sea.Instead of springing overboard, as all expected, he asked anotherinstant of delay. The yawl sank into the trough itself, and rose onthe succeeding billow. Then he saw the cutter, and Wallace and Mulfordstanding in its bows. He waved his hat to them, and sprang high into theair, with the intent to make himself seen; when he came down the boathad shot her length away from the place, leaving him to buffet withthe waves. Jack now managed admirably, swimming lightly and easily, butkeeping his eyes on the crests of the waves, with a view to meet thecutter. Spike now saw this well-planned project to avoid death, andregretted his own remissness in not making sure of Jack. Everybody inthe yawl was eagerly looking after the form of Tier.

  “There he is on the comb of that sea, rolling over like a keg!” criedthe boatswain.

  “He ‘s through it,” answered Spike, “and swimming with great strengthand coolness.”

  Several of the men started up involuntarily and simultaneously to look,hitting their shoulders and bodies together. Distrust was at its mostpainful height; and bull-dogs do not spring at the ox’s
muzzle morefiercely than those six men throttled each other. Oaths, curses, andappeals for help, succeeded; each man endeavouring, in his frenziedefforts, to throw all the others overboard, as the only means of savinghimself. Plunge succeeded plunge; and when that combat of demons ended,no one remained of them all but the boatswain. Spike had taken no sharein the struggle, looking on in grim satisfaction, as the Father of Liesmay be supposed to regard all human strife, hoping good to himself, letthe result be what it might to others. Of the five men who thus wentoverboard, not one escaped. They drowned each other by continuing theirmaddened conflict in an element unsuited to their natures.

  Not so with Jack Tier. His leap had been seen, and a dozen eyes in thecutter watched for his person, as that boat came foaming down before thewind. A shout of “There he is!” from Mulford succeeded; and the littlefellow was caught by the hair, secured, and then hauled into the boat bythe second lieutenant of the Poughkeepsie and our young mate.

  Others in the cutter had noted the incident of the hellish fight. Thefact was communicated to Wallace, and Mulford said, “That yawl willoutsail this loaded cutter, with only two men in it.”

  “Then it is time to try what virtue there is in lead,” answered Wallace.“Marines, come forward, and give the rascal a volley.”

  The volley was fired; one ball passed through the head of the boatswain,killing him dead on the spot. Another went through the body ofSpike. The captain fell in the stern-sheets, and the boat instantlybroached-to.

  The water that came on board apprised Spike fully of the state in whichhe was now placed, and by a desperate effort, he clutched the tiller,and got the yawl again before the wind. This could not last, however.Little by little, his hold relaxed, until his hand relinquished itsgrasp altogether, and the wounded man sank into the bottom of thestern-sheets, unable to raise even his head. Again the boat broached-to.Every sea now sent its water aboard, and the yawl would soon havefilled, had not the cutter come glancing down past it, and rounding-tounder its lee, secured the prize.

 

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