CHAPTER XI
THE SCUTTLED SHIP
When I went on deck next morning there was something great ado. We wereout of sight of land, sailing large, as the old phrase went, on a briskquarter breeze with top-sails atrip, and the sky a vast fine open blue.The crew were gathered at the poop, the pump was clanking in the midstof them, and I saw they were taking spells at the cruellest labour aseaman knows.
At first I was noway troubled at the spectacle; a leak was to beexpected in old rotten-beams, and I went forward with the heart of menot a pulse the faster.
Risk was leaning over the poop-rail, humped up and his beard onhis hands; Murchison, a little apart, swept the horizon with aprospect-glass, and the pump sent a great spate of bilge-water upon thedeck. But for a man at the tiller who kept the ship from yawing in theswell that swung below her counter the _Seven Sisters_ sailed at hersweet will; all the interest of her company was in this stream ofstinking water that she retched into the scuppers. And yet I could notbut be struck by the half-hearted manner in which the seamen wrought;they were visibly shirking; I saw it in the slack muscles, in theheedless eyes.
Risk rose and looked sourly at me as I went up. "Are ye for a job?" saidhe. "It's more in your line perhaps than clerkin'."
"What, at the pumps? Is the old randy geyzing already?"
"Like a washing-boyne," said he. "Bear a hand like a good lad! we maunkeep her afloat at least till some other vessel heaves in sight."
In the tone and look of the man there was something extraordinary.His words were meant to suggest imminent peril, and yet his voice wasshallow as that of a burgh bellman crying an auction sale, and his eyeshad more interest in the horizon that his mate still searched with theprospect-glass than in the spate of bilge that gulped upon the deck.
Bilge did I say? Heavens! it was bilge no more, but the pure sea-greenthat answered to the clanking pump. It was no time for idle wonderat the complacence of the skipper; I flew to the break and threwmy strength into the seaman's task. "Clank-click, clank-click"--theinstrument worked reluctantly as if the sucker moved in slime, and in alittle the sweat poured from me.
"How is she now, Campbell?" asked Risk, as the carpenter came on deck.
"Three feet in the hold," said Campbell airily, like one that had aneasy conscience.
"Good lord, a foot already!" cried Risk, and then in a tone of sarcasm,"Hearty, lads, hearty there! A little more Renfrewshire beef into it,Mr. Greig, if you please."
At that I ceased my exertion, stood back straight and looked at thefaces about me. There was only one man in the company who did not seemto be amused at me, and that was Horn, who stood with folded arms,moodily eying the open sea.
"You seem mighty joco about it," I said to Risk, and I wonder to thisday at my blindness that never read the whole tale in these hurriedevents.
"I can afford to be," he said quickly; "if I gang I gang wi' cleanhands," and he spat into the seawater streaming from the pump where theport-watch now were working with as much listlessness as the men theysuperseded.
To the taunt I made no reply, but moved after Horn who had gone forwardwith his hands in his pockets.
"What does this mean, Horn?" I asked him. "Is the vessel in greatdanger?"
"I suppose she is," said he bitterly, "but I have had nae experience o'scuttled ships afore."
"Scuttled!" cried I, astounded, only half grasping his meaning.
"Jist that," said he. "The job's begun. It began last night in the runof the vessel as I showed ye when ye put your ear to the beam. After Ileft ye, I foun' half a dizen cords fastened to the pump stanchels; aneof them I pulled and got a plug at the end of it; the ithers hae beencomin' oot since as it suited Dan Risk best, and the _Seven Ststers_ isdoomed to die o' a dropsy this very day. Wasn't I the cursed idiot thatever lipped drink in Clerihew's coffin-room!"
"If it was that," said I, "why did you not cut the cords and spoil theplot?"
"Cut the cords! Ye mean cut my ain throat; that's what wad happen if theskipper guessed my knowledge o' his deevilry. And dae ye think a gallowsjob o' this kind depends a'thegither on twa or three bits o' twine?Na, na, this is a very business-like transaction, Mr. Greig, and I'llwarrant there has been naethin' left to chance. I wondered at them bein'sae pernicketty about the sma' boats afore we sailed when the timberso' the ship hersel' were fair ganting. That big new boat and sails fraeKirkcaldy was a gey odd thing in itsel' if I had been sober enough tothink o't. I suppose ye paid your passage, Mr. Greig? I can fancy apurser on the _Seven Sisters_ upon nae ither footin' and that made medubious o' ye when I first learned o' this hell's caper for Jamieson o'the Grange. If ye hadna fought wi' the skipper I would hae coonted ye inwi' the rest."
"He has two pounds of my money," I answered; "at least I've saved theother two if we fail to reach Halifax."
At that he laughed softly again.
"It might be as well wi' Risk as wi' the conger," said he, meaningly."I'm no' sae sure that you and me's meant to come oot o' this; that'swhat I might tak' frae their leaving only the twa o' us aft when theywere puttin' the cargo aff there back at Blackness."
"The cargo!" I repeated.
"Of course," said Horn. "Ye fancied they were goin' to get rid o' yethere, did ye? I'll alloo I thought that but a pretence on your pairt,and no' very neatly done at that. Well, the smallest pairt but the maistvaluable o' the cargo shipped at Borrowstouness is still in Scotland;and the underwriters 'll be to pay through the nose for what has neverrun sea risks."
At that a great light came to me. This was the reason for the maskedcuddy skylights, the utter darkness of the _Seven Sisters_ while herboats were plying to the shore; for this was I so closely kept at herridiculous manifest; the lists of lace and plate I had been fatuouslycopying were lists of stuff no longer on the ship at all, but back inthe possession of the owner of the brigantine.
"You are an experienced seaman--?"
"I have had a vessel of my own," broke in Horn, some vanity as well asshame upon his countenance.
"Well, you are the more likely to know the best way out of this trap weare in," I went on. "For a certain reason I am not at all keen on it togo back to Scotland, but I would sooner risk that than run in leashwith a scoundrel like this who's sinking his command, not to speak ofhazarding my unworthy life with a villainous gang. Is there any way outof it, Horn?"
The seaman pondered, a dark frown upon his tanned forehead, where theveins stood out in knots, betraying his perturbation. The wind whistledfaintly in the tops, the _Seven Sisters_ plainly went by the head; shehad a slow response to her helm, and moved sluggishly. Still the pumpwas clanking and we could hear the water streaming through the scupperholes. Risk had joined his mate and was casting anxious eyes over thewaters.
"If we play the safty here, Mr. Greig," said Horn, "there's a chance o'a thwart for us when the _Seven Ststers_ comes to her labour. That's ooronly prospect. At least they daurna murder us."
"And what about the crew?" I asked. "Do you tell me there is not enoughhonesty among them all to prevent a blackguardly scheme like this?"
"We're the only twa on this ship this morning wi' oor necks ootside tow,for they're all men o' the free trade, and broken men at that," saidHorn resolutely, and even in the midst of this looming disaster myprivate horror rose within me.
"Ah!" said I, helpless to check the revelation, "speak for yourself, Mr.Horn; it's the hangman I'm here fleeing from."
He looked at me with quite a new countenance, clearly losing relish forhis company.
"Anything by-ordinar dirty?" he asked, and in my humility I did not havethe spirit to resent what that tone and query implied.
"Dirty enough," said I, "the man's dead," and Horn's face cleared.
"Oh, faith! is that all?" quo' he, "I was thinkin' it might becoinin'--beggin' your pardon, Mr. Greig, or somethin' in the fancy way.But a gentleman's quarrel ower the cartes or a wench--that's a differenttale. I hate homicide mysel' to tell the truth, but whiles I've hadit in my heart, and in a way
o' speakin* Dan Risk this meenute has mygully-knife in his ribs."
As he spoke the vessel, mishandled, or a traitor to her helm, now thatshe was all awash internally with water, yawed and staggered in thewind. The sails shivered, the yards swung violently, appalling noisescame from the hold. At once the pumping ceased, and Risk's voice roaredin the confusion, ordering the launch of the Kirkcaldy boat.