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Updated: May 11, 2025
There was a dead silence in the saloon as the deep voice of a man was heard speaking in a subdued tone to those with him; and pointing to the sky-light, Mr Frewen stepped back from the defenders of the barricade so as to be ready in case an effort should be made to assail them there. Then the door was rattled loudly, and Jarette's voice was heard speaking angrily to some one without.
Then Jarette's voice was heard making inquiries of the man at the wheel, to whom he stopped talking for a few minutes, which seemed to extend into an age of anxiety to me who listened so anxiously and in such dread lest the scoundrel should return and lean over the bulwark, or run his hand along, feel the rope, and so discover poor Hampton.
The forces had been equalised by four men being sent out of Jarette's boat to take the places of the men who had returned to their allegiance, and, as I watched them, I could see that as they slaved away at the oars, their leader kept jumping up with a pistol in his hand, to throw himself about wildly, stamping, gesticulating, and pointing to the ship, as if he were urging the crews on.
Jarette's savage design was again frustrated, and in spite of our terrible danger no one among us stirred or said a word about the risk. "Do you hear?" cried Mr Denning, from the cabin-light. "Save yourself; the wretch will sink the boat." "I cannot go and leave you and your sister in this man's power." "It is madness to stay. You have done all that is possible.
What I pictured was the men lifting their bleeding companion forward to one of the bunks, while others were talking and raging furiously about the shot. I shuddered, and yet I felt excited, and that it was a necessity. And just then I made out Jarette's voice shouting at the men, and giving some order which only evoked a deep growl.
I was anxious and excited for fear that orders should come for me to occupy another cabin, but none came, and no more orders for Mr Frewen to see the captain. Toward evening a strong wind arose, which kept Jarette's men pretty well occupied in reducing sail. "The scoundrel must be a good seaman," Mr Frewen said to me that night.
"Along with the other in Mr Preddle's cabin," I said triumphantly, for when the door was open I was down on my knees ready by Mr Frewen's legs, and as he thrust the barrels of his gun against Jarette's side, I snatched at the bag and drew it in. "Take my place, Mr Preddle," said Mr Denning to him, "I must go back to our cabin and speak to my sister. She will be terribly alarmed by the firing."
For no doubt the slightest splash of an oar would have made the water flash, and drawn Jarette's attention to us where we lay at the edge of the circle of light shed by the burning ship.
Bang! went Mr Brymer's revolver, fired over the heads of the men in Jarette's boat, and the Frenchman fell backward into the stern-sheets. I thought he was killed, and the men ceased rowing. But Jarette was up again directly. "Pull, you beasts!" he cried. "You jerked me off my feet. You, there," he roared to the men in the second boat, "round to the starboard side and board there. No "
From time to time there was a stir below, and voices rose angrily, but we could always hear Jarette's shrill utterances, and he generally seemed to calm the men down, or to master them, with the result that the angry sounds ceased and gave place to a low murmuring as if some plan were being discussed.
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