Dead Men Tell No Tales

by E. W. Hornung

  CHAPTER II. THE MYSTERIOUS CARGO

  "Wake up, Cole! The ship's on fire!"

  It was young Ready's hollow voice, as cool, however, as though he weretelling me I was late for breakfast. I started up and sought him wildlyin the darkness.

  "You're joking," was my first thought and utterance; for now he waslighting my candle, and blowing out the match with a care that seemed initself a contradiction.

  "I wish I were," he answered. "Listen to that!"

  He pointed to my cabin ceiling; it quivered and creaked; and all at onceI was as a deaf man healed.

  One gets inured to noise at sea, but to this day it passes me how even Icould have slept an instant in the abnormal din which I now heard ragingabove my head. Sea-boots stamped; bare feet pattered; men bawled; womenshrieked; shouts of terror drowned the roar of command.

  "Have we long to last?" I asked, as I leaped for my clothes.

  "Long enough for you to dress comfortably. Steady, old man! It's onlyjust been discovered; they may get it under. The panic's the worst partat present, and we're out of that."

  But was Eva Denison? Breathlessly I put the question; his answer wasreassuring. Miss Denison was with her step-father on the poop. "And bothof 'em as cool as cucumbers," added Ready.

  They could not have been cooler than this young man, with death at thebottom of his bright and sunken eyes. He was of the type which is allmuscle and no constitution; athletes one year, dead men the next; butuntil this moment the athlete had been to me a mere and incredibletradition. In the afternoon I had seen his lean knees totter under thecaptain's fire. Now, at midnight--the exact time by my watch--it was asif his shrunken limbs had expanded in his clothes; he seemed hardly toknow his own flushed face, as he caught sight of it in my mirror.

  "By Jove!" said he, "this has put me in a fine old fever; but I don'tknow when I felt in better fettle. If only they get it under! I've notlooked like this all the voyage."

  And he admired himself while I dressed in hot haste: a fine youngfellow; not at all the natural egotist, but cast for death by thedoctors, and keenly incredulous in his bag of skin. It revived one'sconfidence to hear him talk. But he forgot himself in an instant, andgave me a lead through the saloon with a boyish eagerness that made meactually suspicious as I ran. We were nearing the Line. I recalled theexcesses of my last crossing, and I prepared for some vast hoax at thelast moment. It was only when we plunged upon the crowded quarter-deck,and my own eyes read lust of life and dread of death in the startingeyes of others, that such lust and such dread consumed me in my turn, sothat my veins seemed filled with fire and ice.

  To be fair to those others, I think that the first wild panic wassubsiding even then; at least there was a lull, and even a reaction inthe right direction on the part of the males in the second class andsteerage. A huge Irishman at their head, they were passing bucketstowards the after-hold; the press of people hid the hatchway fromus until we gained the poop; but we heard the buckets spitting and ahose-pipe hissing into the flames below; and we saw the column of whitevapor rising steadily from their midst.

  At the break of the poop stood Captain Harris, his legs planted wideapart, very vigorous, very decisive, very profane. And I must confessthat the shocking oaths which had brought us round the Horn inspired akind of confidence in me now. Besides, even from the poop I could seeno flames. But the night was as beautiful as it had been an hour or twoback; the stars as brilliant, the breeze even more balmy, the sea evenmore calm; and we were hove-to already, against the worst.

  In this hour of peril the poop was very properly invaded by all classesof passengers, in all manner of incongruous apparel, in all stages offear, rage, grief and hysteria; as we made our way among this motleynightmare throng, I took Ready by the arm.

  "The skipper's a brute," said I, "but he's the right brute in the rightplace to-night, Ready!"

  "I hope he may be," was the reply. "But we were off our course thisafternoon; and we were off it again during the concert, as sure as we'renot on it now."

  His tone made me draw him to the rail.

  "But how do you know? You didn't have another look, did you?"

  "Lots of looks-at the stars. He couldn't keep me from consulting them;and I'm just as certain of it as I'm certain that we've a cargo aboardwhich we're none of us supposed to know anything about."

  The latter piece of gossip was, indeed, all over the ship; but thisallusion to it struck me as foolishly irrelevant and frivolous. As tothe other matter, I suggested that the officers would have had more tosay about it than Ready, if there had been anything in it.

  "Officers be damned!" cried our consumptive, with a sound man's vigor."They're ordinary seamen dressed up; I don't believe they've a secondmate's certificate between them, and they're frightened out of theirsouls."

  "Well, anyhow, the skipper isn't that."

  "No; he's drunk; he can shout straight, but you should hear him try tospeak."

  I made my way aft without rejoinder. "Invalid's pessimism," was myprivate comment. And yet the sick man was whole for the time being; thevirile spirit was once more master of the recreant members; and itwas with illogical relief that I found those I sought standing almostunconcernedly beside the binnacle.

  My little friend was, indeed, pale enough, and her eyes great withdismay; but she stood splendidly calm, in her travelling cloak andbonnet, and with all my soul I hailed the hardihood with which I hadrightly credited my love. Yes! I loved her then. It had come home to meat last, and I no longer denied it in my heart. In my innocence and myjoy I rather blessed the fire for showing me her true self and my own;and there I stood, loving her openly with my eyes (not to lose anotherinstant), and bursting to tell her so with my lips.

  But there also stood Senhor Santos, almost precisely as I had seen himlast, cigarette, tie-pin, and all. He wore an overcoat, however, andleaned upon a massive ebony cane, while he carried his daughter's guitarin its case, exactly as though they were waiting for a train. Moreover,I thought that for the first time he was regarding me with no veryfavoring glance.

  "You don't think it serious?" I asked him abruptly, my heart stillbounding with the most incongruous joy.

  He gave me his ambiguous shrug; and then, "A fire at sea is surelysirrious," said he.

  "Where did it break out?"

  "No one knows; it may have come of your concert."

  "But they are getting the better of it?"

  "They are working wonders so far, senhor."

  "You see, Miss Denison," I continued ecstatically, "our rough olddiamond of a skipper is the right man in the right place after all. Atight man in a tight place, eh?" and I laughed like an idiot in theircalm grave faces.

  "Senhor Cole is right," said Santos, "although his 'ilarity sims aleetle out of place. But you must never spik against Captain 'Arreesagain, menma."

  "I never will," the poor child said; yet I saw her wince whenever thecaptain raised that hoarse voice of his in more and more blasphemousexhortation; and I began to fear with Ready that the man was drunk.

  My eyes were still upon my darling, devouring her, revelling in her,when suddenly I saw her hand twitch within her step-father's arm. It wasan answering start to one on his part. The cigarette was snatched fromhis lips. There was a commotion forward, and a cry came aft, from mouthto mouth:

  "The flames! The flames!"

  I turned, and caught their reflection on the white column of smoke andsteam. I ran forward, and saw them curling and leaping in the hell-mouthof the hold.

  The quarter-deck now staged a lurid scene: that blazing trap-door inits midst; and each man there a naked demon madly working to save hisroasting skin. Abaft the mainmast the deck-pump was being ceaselesslyworked by relays of the passengers; dry blankets were passed forward,soaking blankets were passed aft, and flung flat into the furnace oneafter another. These did more good than the pure water: the pillar ofsmoke became blacker, denser: we were at a crisis; a sudden hush denotedit; even our hoarse skipper stood dumb.

 
; I had rushed down into the waist of the ship--blushing for my delay--andalready I was tossing blankets with the rest. Looking up in an enforcedpause, I saw Santos whispering in the skipper's ear, with the expressionof a sphinx but no lack of foreign gesticulation--behind them a fringeof terror-stricken faces, parted at that instant by two more figures,as wild and strange as any in that wild, strange scene. One was ourluckless lucky digger, the other a gigantic Zambesi nigger, who fordays had been told off to watch him; this was the servant (or rather theslave) of Senhor Santos.

  The digger planted himself before the captain. His face was reddened bya fire as consuming as that within the bowels of our gallant ship. Hehad a huge, unwieldy bundle under either arm.

  "Plain question--plain answer," we heard him stutter. "Is there any ----chance of saving this ---- ship?"

  His adjectives were too foul for print; they were given with such aspecial effort at distinctness, however, that I was smiling one instant,and giving thanks the next that Eva Denison had not come forward withher guardian. Meanwhile the skipper had exchanged a glance with SenhorSantos, and I think we all felt that he was going to tell us the truth.

  He told it in two words--"Very little."

  Then the first individual tragedy was enacted before every eye. Witha yell the drunken maniac rushed to the rail. The nigger was at hisheels--he was too late. Uttering another and more piercing shriek, themadman was overboard at a bound; one of his bundles preceded him; theother dropped like a cannon-ball on the deck.

  The nigger caught it up and carried it forward to the captain.

  Harris held up his hand. We were still before we had fairly found ourtongues. His words did run together a little, but he was not drunk.

  "Men and women," said he, "what I told that poor devil is Gospel truth;but I didn't tell him we'd no chance of saving our lives, did I? Notme, because we have! Keep your heads and listen to me. There's twogood boats on the davits amidships; the chief will take one, the secondofficer the other; and there ain't no reason why every blessed one ofyou shouldn't sleep in Ascension to-morrow night. As for me, let me seeevery soul off of my ship and perhaps I may follow; but by the God thatmade you, look alive! Mr. Arnott--Mr. McClellan--man them boats andlower away. You can't get quit o' the ship too soon, an' I don't mindtellin' you why. I'll tell you the worst, an' then you'll know. There'sbeen a lot o' gossip goin', gossip about my cargo. I give out as I'dnone but ship's stores and ballast, an' I give out a lie. I don't mindtellin' you now. I give out a cussed lie, but I give it out for thegood o' the ship! What was the use o' frightenin' folks? But where's thesense in keepin' it back now? We have a bit of a cargo," shouted Harris;"and it's gunpowder--every damned ton of it!"

  The effect of this announcement may be imagined; my hand has not thecunning to reproduce it on paper; and if it had, it would shrink fromthe task. Mild men became brutes, brutal men, devils, women--God helpthem!--shrieking beldams for the most part. Never shall I forget themwith their streaming hair, their screaming open mouths, and the cruelascending fire glinting on their starting eyeballs!

  Pell-mell they tumbled down the poop-ladders; pell-mell they racedamidships past that yawning open furnace; the pitch was boiling throughthe seams of the crackling deck; they slipped and fell upon it, one overanother, and the wonder is that none plunged headlong into the flames.A handful remained on the poop, cowering and undone with terror. Uponthese turned Captain Harris, as Ready and I, stemming the torrent ofmaddened humanity, regained the poop ourselves.

  "For'ard with ye!" yelled the skipper. "The powder's underneath you inthe lazarette!"

  They were gone like hunted sheep. And now abaft the flaming hatchwaythere were only we four surviving saloon passengers, the captain, hissteward, the Zambesi negro, and the quarter-master at the wheel. Thesteward and the black I observed putting stores aboard the captain's gigas it overhung the water from the stern davits.

  "Now, gentlemen," said Harris to the two of us, "I must trouble you tostep forward with the rest. Senhor Santos insists on taking his chancealong with the young lady in my gig. I've told him the risk, but heinsists, and the gig'll hold no more."

  "But she must have a crew, and I can row. For God's sake take me,captain!" cried I; for Eva Denison sat weeping in her deck chair, and myheart bled faint at the thought of leaving her, I who loved her so, andmight die without ever telling her my love! Harris, however, stood firm.

  "There's that quartermaster and my steward, and Jose the nigger," saidhe. "That's quite enough, Mr. Cole, for I ain't above an oar myself;but, by God, I'm skipper o' this here ship, and I'll skip her as long asI remain aboard!"

  I saw his hand go to his belt; I saw the pistols stuck there formutineers. I looked at Santos. He answered me with his neutral shrug,and, by my soul, he struck a match and lit a cigarette in that hour oflife and death! Then last I looked at Ready; and he leant invertebrateover the rail, gasping pitiably from his exertions in regaining thepoop, a dying man once more. I pointed out his piteous state.

  "At least," I whispered, "you won't refuse to take him?"

  "Will there be anything to take?" said the captain brutally.

  Santos advanced leisurely, and puffed his cigarette over the poor wastedand exhausted frame.

  "It is for you to decide, captain," said he cynically; "but this onewill make no deeference. Yes, I would take him. It will not be far," headded, in a tone that was not the less detestable for being lowered.

  "Take them both!" moaned little Eva, putting in her first and last sweetword.

  "Then we all drown, Evasinha," said her stepfather. "It is impossible."

  "We're too many for her as it is," said the captain. "So for'ard withye, Mr. Cole, before it's too late."

  But my darling's brave word for me had fired my blood, and I turnedwith equal resolution on Harris and on the Portuguese. "I will go likea lamb," said I, "if you will first give me five minutes' conversationwith Miss Denison. Otherwise I do not go; and as for the gig, you maytake me or leave me, as you choose."

  "What have you to say to her?" asked Santos, coming up to me, and againlowering his voice.

  I lowered mine still more. "That I love her!" I answered in a softecstasy. "That she may remember how I loved her, if I die!"

  His shoulders shrugged a cynical acquiescence.

  "By all mins, senhor; there is no harm in that."

  I was at her side before another word could pass his withered lips.

  "Miss Denison, will you grant me five minutes', conversation? It may bethe last that we shall ever have together!"

  Uncovering her face, she looked at me with a strange terror in her greateyes; then with a questioning light that was yet more strange, for in itthere was a wistfulness I could not comprehend. She suffered me to takeher hand, however, and to lead her unresisting to the weather rail.

  "What is it you have to say?" she asked me in her turn. "What is it thatyou--think?"

  Her voice fell as though she must have the truth.

  "That we have all a very good chance," said I heartily.

  "Is that all?" cried Eva, and my heart sank at her eager manner.

  She seemed at once disappointed and relieved. Could it be possible shedreaded a declaration which she had foreseen all along? My evil firstexperience rose up to warn me. No, I would not speak now; it was notime. If she loved me, it might make her love me less; better to trustto God to spare us both.

  "Yes, it is all," I said doggedly.

  She drew a little nearer, hesitating. It was as though herdisappointment had gained on her relief.

  "Do you know what I thought you were going to say?"

  "No, indeed."

  "Dare I tell you?"

  "You can trust me."

  Her pale lips parted. Her great eyes shone. Another instant, and she hadtold me that which I would have given all but life itself to know. Butin that tick of time a quick step came behind me, and the light went outof the sweet face upturned to mine.

  "I cannot! I must not! Here is--that man!" />
  Senhor Santos was all smiles and rings of pale-blue smoke.

  "You will be cut off, friend Cole," said he. "The fire is spreading."

  "Let it spread!" I cried, gazing my very soul into the young girl'seyes. "We have not finished our conversation.

  "We have!" said she, with sudden decision. "Go--go--for my sake--foryour own sake--go at once!"

  She gave me her hand. I merely clasped it. And so I left her at therail-ah, heaven! how often we had argued on that very spot! So I lefther, with the greatest effort of all my life (but one); and yet inpassing, full as my heart was of love and self, I could not but lay ahand on poor Ready's shoulders.

  "God bless you, old boy!" I said to him.

  He turned a white face that gave me half an instant's pause.

  "It's all over with me this time," he said. "But, I say, I was rightabout the cargo?"

  And I heard a chuckle as I reached the ladder; but Ready was no longerin my mind; even Eva was driven out of it, as I stood aghast on thetop-most rung.