“You lay it all down very clearly,” I replied, “but you can have my answer now if you like.”
He raised his hand laughingly.
“Curse all emotion,” he said, “it affects digestion. Black won’t hurry you—why, for the life of me, I can’t tell, but he won’t. You can’t do better than take things easy, and see the place. I’ve brought you a ‘Panama,’ for the sun can advertise himself at eight bells still; and if you have nothing better to do, put it on, and light a cigar as we stroll round.”
The idea of inspecting the place pleased me. I followed Doctor Osbart—for such his name was—down the rock slope we had trodden on the previous evening; and thence to the beach, hard and baked with the sun. The men, who had ceased the labour of discharging the steamer, were lying about on the grassy knolls, smoking and dozing, and they cast no friendly glances on me as we passed along the shore round the edge of the bay, and mounted a soft grass slope which led to the cliff-head on the other side. It was a long walk, but not unpleasant, in the crisp, sweet, odour-bearing air; and when we had attained the summit, a glorious seascape was spread before us. All about were the white peaks and the basaltic rocks, towering above ravines where ice flowed, or falling away to bright green pastures where reindeer trod. The coast-line was lofty and awe-inspiring, often showing a precipitous face to the sea, which beat upon it with the booming of heavy breakers; and spread surf all foaming upon its ridges and promontories. I stood entranced with the vigour born of that life-giving breeze; and the young doctor stood with me watching. At last he touched me upon the shoulder, and pointed to the first cave, where the nameless ship lay snugly moored in the creek, with many seamen at work upon her.
“Look,” he said, “look there, where is the instrument of our power. Is not she magnificent? Do you wonder at my warmth—yet why? for without her we here are helpless children, victims of poverty, of law, of society. With her we defy the world. In all Europe there is no like to her; no ship which should live with her. Ask her for speed, and she will give you thirty knots; tell her that you have no coal, and she will carry you day after day and demand none. Aboard her, we are superior to fleets and nations; we ravage where we will; we laugh at the fastest cruisers and the biggest warships. Are you surprised that we love her?”
He spoke with extraordinary enthusiasm—the enthusiasm of a fanatic or a lover. The great ship reflected the sun’s glow from her many bright parts, and was indeed a beauteous object, yet swan-like, the guns uncovered as the men worked at them, and a newer lustre added to her splendour.
“She is a wonderful ship,” said I, “and built of metal I never met with.”
“Her hull is constructed of phosphor-bronze,” he answered, “and she is driven by gas. The metal is the finest in the world for all shipbuilding purposes, but its price is ruinous. None but a man worth millions could build the like to her.”
“Then Captain Black is such a man?” I said.
“Exactly, or he wouldn’t be the master of her—and of Europe. Doesn’t it occur to you that you were a fool ever to set out on the enterprise of coping with him?”
I did not answer the taunt, but looked seaward, away across the west, where Roderick and Mary were. The boundless spread of water reminded me how small was the hope that I should ever see them again; ever hear a voice I had known in the old time, or clasp a hand in fellowship that had oft been clasped. They thought me dead, no doubt; and to take the grief from them was forbidden, then and until the end of it, I felt sure.
But the doctor was still occupied with the great ship, looking down upon her as she lay, and he called my attention to a fact I had not been cognisant of.
“We are coaling here, do you see?” he said. “It was one of Black’s inspirations to choose Greenland for his hole; it is one of the few comparatively uninhabited countries in the world where coal is to be had, somewhat of a poorer quality than the anthracite we are accustomed to use, but very welcome when we are close pressed. He is filling his bunkers now, in case we should decide to break up this party before the end of the winter. That will depend on our friends over in Europe. We have given them a nightmare, but it won’t last, and they’ll go to bed again to get another.”
“Who are your miners?” I asked suddenly, interrupting him, for I saw that the rock above the nameless ship was pierced with tunnels leading down to the shafts, and that forty or fifty coal-black fellows were shooting the stuff into the bunkers.
“These are our guests,” he said lightly, “honest British seamen whose voyages have been interrupted. We give them the alternative of work in the mine, or their liberty on the snow yonder.”
“But how can they live in such a place?”
He laughed as though the whole thing were a joke.
“They don’t live,” said he. “They die like vermin.”
“I’m evidently afloat with a lot of fine-spirited fellows,” said I; “or, to put it in plain English, with a beautiful company of blackguards.”
“Why not say with a lot of devils—that would be more accurate? But you can’t forget that you came to us unasked, and now you must stop.”
His leer at this sally was terribly expressive, and I showed all the contempt I felt for him, turning away to the sea fondly, as the hope of my liberty, since thence only should it come. He read my thoughts, perhaps, taking me by the arm with unsought pretence of kindness, and he said—
“Don’t let’s dissect each other’s morals; we have the place to see, and you must be getting hungry. I will show you only one thing before we go—it is our cemetery.”
It was not a fascinating prospect, yet I followed him across the high plateau to the creek wherein the rock-house was, but to the side which was opposite to my bedroom window. There he descended the face of the cliff by rough steps; and entered one of the passages which I had observed from my chamber. The passage was long and low, lighted by ships’ lanterns at intervals, and I discovered that it led to a great cavern which opened to the face of one of the glaciers going down to the sea on the farther side. Nor have I entered a sepulchre which ever gave me such an infinite horror of death, or such a realisation of its terrors.
The end of the cavern was nothing but a wall of ice, clear as glass, admitting a soft light which illuminated the whole place with dim rays, making it a place of mystery and awe. Yet I had not noticed its more dreadful aspect at the first coming; and, when I did so, I gave a cry of horror and turned away my face, fearing to see again that most overwhelming spectacle. For blocks had been cut from the clear ice, and the dead seamen had been laid in the frozen mass just as they had died, without coffin or other covering than their clothes. There they lay, their faces upturned, many of them displaying all the placid peacefulness of death; but some grinned with horrible grimaces, and the eyes of some started from their heads, and there were teeth that seemed to be biting into the ice, and hands clenched as though the fierce activity of life pursued them beyond the veil. Yet the frightful mausoleum, the den of death, was pure in its atmosphere as a garden of snow, cool as grass after rain, silent as a tomb of the sea. Not a sound even of dripping water, not a motion of life without, not a sigh or dull echo disturbed its repose. Only the dead with hands uplifted, the dead in frozen rest, the dead with the smile of death, or the hate of death, or the terror of death written upon their faces, seemed to watch and to wait in the chamber of the sepulchre.
I have said that the sight terrified me; yet the whole of my fear I could not write, though the pen of Death himself were in my hands. So profoundly did the agony of it appeal to me that for many minutes together I dare not raise my eyes, could scarce restrain myself from flying, leaving the dreadful picture to those that should care to gaze upon it. Yet its spell was too terrible, the morbid magnetism of it too potent; and I looked again and again, and turned away, and looked yet once more; and went to the ice to gaze more closely at the dead faces, and was so carried away with the trance of it that I seemed to forget the dead men, and thought that they lived. When I
recalled myself, I observed Doctor Osbart watching me intently.
“A strange place, isn’t it?” he said. “Observe it closely, for some day you will be here with the others.”
I shuddered at his thought, and muttered, “God forbid!”
“Why?” he asked, hearing it. “It’s not a very fearful thing to contemplate. I would sooner lie in ice than in earth—and that ice is not part of the glacier; it never moves. It is bound by the rock there which cuts it off from the main mass.”
“It’s a horrible sight!” I exclaimed, shivering.
“Not at all,” he said. “These men have been our friends. I like to see them, and in a way one can talk to them. Who can be sure that they do not hear?”
It was almost the thought of a religious man, and it amazed me. I was even about to seek explanation, but a sudden excitement came upon him, and he raved incoherent words, crying—
“Yes, they hear, every one of them. Dick, you blackguard, do you hear me? Old Jack, wake up, you old gun! Thunder, you’ve killed many a one in your day. Move your pins, old Thunder! There’s work to do—work to do—work to do!”
His voice rang out in the cavern, echoing from vault to vault. It was an awful contrast to hear his raving, and yet to see the rigid dead before him. My surmise that Doctor Osbart was a madman was undoubtedly too true; and, horrified at the desecration, I dragged him from the cavern into the light of the sun, and there I found myself trembling like a leaf, and as weak as a child. The cold crisp breeze brought the doctor to his senses; but he was absent and wandering, and he left me at the door of my room.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MURDERS IN THE COVE.
For some days I saw no more of Doctor Osbart or of Captain Black. My existence in the rock house seemed to be forgotten by them, and where they were I knew not; but the negro waited on me every day, and I was provided with generous food and many books. I spent the hours wandering over the cliffs, or the grass plains; but I discovered that the place was quite surrounded by ice-capped mountains and by snowfields, and that any hope of escape by land was more than futile. Once or twice during these days I saw the man “Four-Eyes,” and from him gained a few answers to my questions. He told me that Captain Black kept up communication with Europe by two small screw steamers disguised as whalers; that one of them, the one I saw, was shortly to be despatched to England for information; and that the other was then on the American coast gleaning all possible news of the pursuit; also charging herself with stores for the colony.
“Bedad, an’ we’re nading ’em,” he said in his best brogue, “for, wanting the victuals, it’s poor sort av order we’d be keepin’, by the Saints. Ye see, young ’un, it’s yerself as is at once the bottom an’ the top av it. ‘Wot’s he here for?’ says half av ’em, while the other half, which is the majority, they says, ‘When’s the old ’un a-sending him to Europe to cut our throats?’ they says; and there’s the divil among ’em—more divil than I ever seed.”
“It must be dull work wintering here,” I said at hazard; and he took up the words mighty eagerly.
“Ay, an’ ye’ve put yer finger on it; sure, it’s just then that there’s work to do combing ov ’em down, young ’un. If I was the skipper, I wudn’t sit here with my feet in my pockets as it was, but I’d up an’ run for it. Why, look you, we’re short av victuals already; and we turn fifty av the hands in the mine ashore tomorrow!”
“Turn them ashore—how’s that?”
“Why, giv’ ’em their liberty, I’m thinking: poor divils, they’ll die in the snow, every one av them.”
I made some poor excuse for cutting short the conversation, and left him, excited beyond anything by the thought which his words gave me. If fifty men were to be turned free, then surely I could count on fifty allies; and fifty-one strong hands could at least make some show even against the ruffians of the rock-house. Give them arms, and a chance of surprise, and who knows? I said. But it was evident beyond doubt that the initiative must be with me, and that, if arms and a leader were to be found, I must find them.
It might have been a mad hope, but yet it was a hope; and I argued: Is it better to clutch at the veriest shadow of a chance, or to sit down and end my life amongst scoundrels and assassins? Unless the man “Four-Eyes” deliberately deceived me, Black would connive at the murder of fifty British seamen before another twenty-four hours had sped. These men would have all the anger of desperation to drive them to the attack; and I felt sure that if I could get some arms into their hands, and help them to wise strategy, the attempt would at the least be justifiable. It remained only to ascertain the probability of getting weapons, and of joining the crew without molestation; and to this task I set myself with an energy and expectation which caused me to forget for the time my rascally environment, and the peril of my very existence in the ice-haven.
During the remaining hours of the day I engaged myself in searching the houses on the beach; but, although I looked into many of them, I found no sign of armoury, or, indeed, of anything but plain accommodation for living. Here and there in some rude dormitories I encountered lazy loafers, who cursed at the sight of me; and I did not approach the great common-room, for I knew the danger of that venture. But I made such a tour of the block of buildings as convinced me of the futility of any attempt to get arms from them; for such as were storehouses had iron doors and heavy locks upon them, and elsewhere there was scarce so much as a pistol. The discouragement of the vain search was profound, and in great gloom and abandoned hope I mounted the steep passage to my own apartment, and sat down to ask myself, if I should not at once surrender the undertaking, and preserve my own skin. That, no doubt, was the counsel of mere prudence; yet the knowledge that fifty men would stand by me to the assault on the citadel of crime and cruelty haunted me and drove me from the craven prompting. I remembered in a welcome inspiration that Black had a stand of Winchester rifles in his study; I had seen them when I dined with him; and although there were not more than half-a-dozen of them, I had hopes that they would suffice, if I could get them, with knives and any revolvers I might lay hands upon, to hold a ring of men against the company, or at least to warrant a covert attack on the buildings below. This thought I hugged to me all day, going often to the iron platform above the creek to know if there were any sign of the release of the men, or of preparation for getting rid of them; but I could see none, and I waited expectantly, for it were idle to move a hand until those who should be my allies had their so-called liberty.
Towards evening, when I was weary with the watching, I returned to my room and found that the negro had spread the tea-table as usual; and I drank a refreshing draught, and began to question him, if he knew anything of that which was going on below. He shook his head stupidly; but presently, when I had repeated the question, he said, laughing and showing his huge teeth—
“Begar, you wait—plenty fire jess now—plenty knock and squeal; oh yes, sar.”
“Are they going to murder the men?” I asked aghast.
“No murder; oh no, sar, no murder, but plenty fight—ah, there he goes, sar!”
There was the sound of a gun-shot below in the creek; and I went to my window, and getting upon a chair, I saw the whole of a cruel scene. Some twenty of these seamen, black as they had come from the coal-shaft, were going ashore from a long-boat; while an electric launch was bringing twenty more from the outer creek where the nameless ship lay. But the men who had first landed were surrounded by the others of Black’s company, and were being driven towards the hills at the back; and so to the great desolate plain of snow where no human being could long retain life. From my open window, I could hear the words of anger, the loud oaths, the shouts, could see the blows which were received, and the blows which were given. Anon the fight became very general. The pirates hit lustily with the butt-ends of their pistols; the honest fellows used their fists, and many a man they laid his length upon the rock. Yet there was no question of the sway of victory, for the prisoners were unarmed, and the
others outnumbered them hopelessly. Inch by inch they gave way, were driven towards the ravines and the countless miles of snow-plain; and as the battle, if such you could call it, raged, the armed lost control of themselves and began to shoot with murderous purpose. Death at last was added to the horrors, and, as body after body rolled down the rocky slope and fell splashing into the water, those unwounded took panic at the sight, and fled with all speed away up the side of the glacier mount; and so, as I judged it must be, to their death in that frozen refuge beyond.
When all was quiet I shut my window, and sat in my chair to think. The negro had left me, and the whole place was very still. Neither Black nor the doctor had showed during the scene of the massacre (for I could call it nothing else); and in the rock-house itself there was not so much as a footfall. I began to hope that the master of the place might chance to be away; and when darkness had fallen I went into the long passage then deserted, and found the door of his sitting-room ajar, but the place was dim within; and I feared to make an attempt to get the arms until I knew that all slept. But one misfortune could lie between myself and the aid which I should bear to these men—it was the chance that Black locked the door of his study when he slept. If he did not, I could get the rifles, and convey them across the bay to the other fellows; if he did, all hope were gone.
At seven o’clock I dined as usual, no one coming to me; and at eight the negro had cleared away the repast, and had left me for the night. I closed my own door, and for three hours or more I paced my chamber, the fever of anticipation and of design burning me as with fire. It must have been eleven o’clock when at last I put out my light, and listened in the passage; yet heard nothing, not even the echo of a distant sound.
Of the doors about, the majority were closed; but the doctor’s was open, and his room was in darkness, so that I began to fear that he was closeted with Black; and I went very stealthily, having left my boots behind me, to the man’s study, and found that door ajar as it had been when I had come to it some hours before. This discovery set me almost drunk with hope. There was no doubt that both the men were away from their rooms, so that my time could not have been better chosen; and, more fearless in their absence, I pushed the door wide open and began to feel my way in the blinding dark.
The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales Page 231