Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake

“Are you afraid, sir?” was the reply.

“Perhaps I am; it is only natural, Mr Pugh,” said the doctor. “I have seen so much of death that I have learned to fear it more than a rough sailor or soldier, perhaps; but I was not speaking for myself.”

“I am glad of that,” said Dutch, with something of a sneer, for he was annoyed at being interrupted at such a time.

“You need not sneer, Mr Pugh,” said the doctor quietly. “What I fear is that if we come to some bloody struggle, it may mean death to some here.”

“It is pretty sure to, sir – especially to me,” he muttered, “if I get him by the throat. Who is that moving there?” he said aloud.

“On’y me, Mr Pug,” said a rough voice, and the doctor went on.

“You misunderstand me, Mr Pugh,” continued the doctor, in a whisper. “I mean that the shock might be fatal to young Studwick, and I am sure it would be, in her delicate state, to your wife.”

“My wife should have stayed ashore, sir,” said Dutch, rather harsh, for he resented this interference.

“Your words are very bitter, Mr Pugh,” said the doctor, coldly, “and, excuse me, not manly at such a time. Ever since that night when I was called in to Mrs Pugh, and she had that series of swoons – ”

“You called in to my wife,” said Dutch, who was startled by the words; “that night?”

“Yes, Miss Studwick sent for me, as I was close at hand. Did you not know?”

“No, no,” said Dutch, “I was away from home. I – I forgot – I did not know.”

“I mean when I found her so weak and ill. You must know – that night I carried her up to bed.”

“Yes – yes,” said Dutch, in a strange voice that he did not know for his own. “You mean that night when you carried her in your arms – to her bedroom – there was a light there.”

“Of course. Miss Studwick held it for me,” said the doctor. “I thought you would recollect.”

“Yes – yes,” said Dutch strangely. “I had forgotten. My God, I must have been mad,” he muttered.

“I beg your pardon,” said the doctor, in a low whisper.

“Nothing, nothing; go on, sir, pray.”

“I am glad I have awakened your interest,” said the doctor. “You thought me officious, but indeed, Mr Pugh, she needs your care and thought. That night I thought she would have died; some trouble, I fear, had given her incipient brain fever, and I really dread what may happen if she is subjected to this shock. If anything can be done.”

“I shall see, I shall see,” said Dutch hoarsely. “It was you, then, who carried her up-stairs – not our regular practitioner,” he added, with his voice trembling.

“No,” said the doctor; “I thought you knew.”

“Don’t speak to me any more now, doctor,” said Dutch, feeling for Mr Meldon’s hand, and pressing it warmly. “God bless you for this. I shall never forget it.”

“It is nothing, Pugh, nothing,” said the other warmly. “Forgive me if I seemed to resent your words; I know you are much troubled now.”

“Hark!” exclaimed Dutch; “listen.”

There was a rush across the deck, evidently far forward, and once more silence.

“Heaven forgive me!” said Dutch to himself; and then, in spite of the terrible peril they were in, he felt his way to the further cabin, and in a low voice whispered his wife’s name.

“Hester – here!”

With a faint cry of joy, she stretched out her hands to him, for there was that in his voice which made her heart leap.

“Dutch! Dutch!” she whispered, as she wreathed her arms round his neck, and clung to him tightly.

“Hester, darling,” he whispered, “you should curse me, and not treat me so. My darling, I have been mad, and have but just learned the truth. Forgive me, dear, forgive me. One word, for I must go.”

“Forgive you?” she whispered back, as she pressed her lips to his in a long passionate kiss. “Husband, dear husband, tell me you believe in me again.”

“Never to doubt you more, darling,” he groaned. “I cannot tell you now. Loose me – quickly – I must go.”

“No, no,” she whispered; “not yet, not yet – one more word, Dutch, one more word.”

“Stand ready there, everyone,” cried the captain, in a loud stern voice, “and close up, gentlemen. Let every man aim at getting the weapons from the cowardly villains. Be firm: we have right on our side.”

There was a sharp rustling noise, and the loud tramp of feet overhead; and then the captain’s voice was heard once more out of the darkness.

“Quick there! Where is Dutch Pugh? The scoundrels are coming down.”

The noise overhead increased as Dutch tore himself from his wife’s arms, and hurried to join the defenders; but the captain’s words were premature, as, after a few minutes, the sounds seemed to go forward once more and almost to cease, and just then Rasp’s voice was heard.

“I’ve been having a rummage about, and here’s two or three tools to go on with. S’pose you take this, Mr Pug, it’s your shark knife; and here’s one for you, Mr Parkley, and one for the captain. Is there any gent as would like an axe?”

“Give it to me,” said the doctor. “Have you anything for yourself?”

“Only another chopper,” said the old fellow, “but it’s as sharp as a razor.”

The diving implements in Rasp’s cabin had been forgotten by all save him, and these he now passed round, sending a thrill of satisfaction through all present, for it was like doubling their strength; and, as they all, well-armed now, stood round the door, there was a rush of feet overhead, the sound of curses, a heavy fall, and those below felt mad with rage at being unable to go to the aid of some one who was evidently fighting on their side, when there was a tremendous crash, and something heavy fell through the skylight to the floor by their side.

In an instant Dutch sprang upon the man who had fallen through, held his knife at his throat, and hissed, —

“If you stir, you’re a dead man. Stand ready to strike down the next one who comes through,” he added to his friends.

“Who’s a-going to stir?” said a surly voice. “I’m too beat out. There, you needn’t be skeared; no one else won’t come down that way.”

“Oakum!” exclaimed Dutch, taking his knee from the prostrate man’s chest.

“I ain’t quite sure yet,” said the old fellow. “It was me – what them warmint had left; but you’ve most squeezed out the little bit of breath as I had.”

“My good fellow,” exclaimed the captain, “I’m very glad you’ve escaped. Are you wounded?”

“I’m blessed if I know, capen,” growled the old fellow, rising and shaking himself. “I’m precious sore all over and pumped out, but I can’t feel any holes in my carkidge as yet. How’s everyone here?”

“Unhurt at present,” was the reply.

“Got the ladies safe?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a blessing,” muttered the old fellow.

“But who has been killed?” whispered Dutch in a low voice.

“Well, that’s about what I was a-going to ask you, gentlemen,” said Oakum. “Far as I can make out, there’s the whole of the watch. Bob Lennie – ”

“Some one hit me on the nose and tumbled me down the hatch, first go off,” growled that worthy.

“That’s good,” said Sam. “Well, then, they’ve done for Dick Rolls, I know.”

“No they ain’t,” said the sailor, in an injured tone. “I got a chop on the head, and it’s bleeding fine, and I bolted down here. Where’s the good o’ you going and telling such lies, Mr Sam Oakum?”

“Well, third time never misses,” muttered Sam. “What’s come o’ Mr Jones?”

There was no reply here.

“He wouldn’t jyne the mutineers, would he?” said Sam after a pause.

“No,” said the captain sternly.

“Then it was him as they’ve cut down and chucked overboard.”

“Where are the other men?” said the captain, after a horrified pause caused by Sam Oakum’s announcement.

“Them as arn’t in the swim is down in the forksel,” said Sam, gruffly, “with all the chain cable piled atop on ’em, I expect; but it seemed to me as if the deck was swarming in the dark with fellows, all a trying to let daylight into your ribs.”

Story 1-Chapter XXX.

After the Fight

The silence on the deck now seemed ominous to those who were listening intently for some warning of the enemy coming down, but the long, weary hours passed without any fresh alarm, and they all stood in that pitchy darkness and stifling heat, waiting for the danger that did not come.

“I’m getting so anxious about my birds,” said Mr Wilson suddenly from one corner of the cabin. “How shall I get to feed them?”

No one spoke for a moment or two, and then Sam Oakum exclaimed:

“You won’t want no more birds, sir. You’re a-going to be kep’ in a cage yourself;” and the two sailors tittered to themselves, but no one else spoke.

“I say,” exclaimed Oakum, all at once, “what’s come o’ the stooard and old ’Pollo?”

“I’m here, Mr Oakum, sir,” said a weak voice, and then there was a low wailing noise.

“That’s old fatty, sure enough,” said Oakum, “and he’s a-crying. But what’s come of ’Pollo?”

There was no answer to this, and Sam was heard to bring his hand down on his leg with a vigorous slap.

“I remember now,” he exclaimed. “They brought him down on the deck when they went at me, but it was all knocked out of my head. Poor old ’Pollo! Poor old chap! I liked his honest old black physog somehow, if it wouldn’t wash white. If he’s killed,” he muttered sternly between his teeth, “someone’s got to answer for it afore long.”

The hours dragged on, and then it seemed as if the darkness had suddenly grown less opaque; then one haggard face and then another could be dimly made out, and at last, as if with a rush, up came the sun, and the saloon was flooded with light reflected through the windows off the glorious dancing water; and the prisoners began to look from one to the other, and always at haggard anxious faces.

Dutch, finding that all was still outside, walked softly to the little cabin where Bessy Studwick and his wife had been placed for safety; and as the door was open he could see that Hester was sleeping peacefully with her head resting on her friend’s lap, while pale and anxious looking, Bessy held only her hands, and sat up watchful as she had been all night.

Dutch stole in, and bending down kissed his wife’s forehead tenderly, making her start slightly and utter a low sigh, but a happy smile came upon her lip directly, and the sunshine which flooded the little cabin lit up her thin, worn face, giving it so sweet and pure an air that Dutch groaned to himself as he thought of the past, and then stole away, but with a load taken from his breast, as he thought of the revelation he had heard from the doctor, and his heart leaped with joy as he thought of how in the future he would try to wipe away the misery he had inflicted upon the suffering woman.

He was brought back to the present, though, directly by finding a kind of conference going on amongst his friends as to the future, and their proceedings to defend themselves and retake the ship.

The meagreness of the resources was now seen at a glance, for though a portion of the party was pretty well-armed, the others were helpless.

The captain made a full inspection of his cabin to find that every weapon had been carefully removed; and, to make matters worse, not an article likely to be used as a means of defence had been left behind.

At least this was the first impression, but the doctor suddenly remarked that he had a stick in his cabin, and running in he returned with it, and handed his keen long diver’s knife to Oakum.

“You’d better keep it, sir,” said the old fellow contemptuously. “Them chaps has got heads and hearts too hard to be hurt with a bit of a stick. Oh, that’s the game, is it? Well, I’ll keep the knife then.”

This remark was made on seeing Mr Meldon draw a long, keenly-pointed three-edged sword out of the stick, a weapon likely to prove fatal to any one upon whom it was used.

Unfortunately for the defenders of the cabin, they had but little with which they could make a barricade. There was the bedding, and a few chairs, but even if these were piled up, but little could be done, as Dutch pointed out to the captain in a low voice.

“I am no judge of fortifications,” he said with a bitter smile, “but look up.”

The captain glanced at the skylight, and stamped with vexation.

“We have not so much as a pistol, Captain Studwick, and the enemy have only to place three or four there to fire down upon us and we are done for.”

“Would you give up then, Pugh?” said the captain sternly.

“Not so long as I can strike a blow,” was the reply; and the same spirit seemed to nerve all present.

There was not much time left them for consideration, for it was evident that full preparations were going on above. Voices were heard talking and orders being given, but the men kept away from the broken skylight, and the suspense grew more intense.

It was during this interval that Mr Meldon went to the inner cabin, where, weak and feverish, John Studwick lay, watched over now by his sister and Hester Pugh, who seemed to have awakened to a new life as she exchanged glances once with her husband, the trials they were in seeming as nothing compared to the horrors of the past.

As the doctor approached, the young man turned to him impatiently.

“Well,” he said, “have you come to make me strong, so that I can fight these scoundrels with you?”

“I wish I could,” was the quiet reply.

“Bah! Doctor’s talk,” said John Studwick bitterly. “You know you can do me no good. Why do you pester me?”

“Don’t speak to me like that,” he replied; “I have tried my best to help you.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But there, go. You worry me by staying, and this heat makes me so weak.”

“Yes, I will go directly,” said the doctor; but he first went to the cabin window, secured a piece of string to a cloth, and lowered it down, soaking it, and drew it up.

As he did so, a good-sized shark turned over and made a snap at the white, moving cloth, and the doctor shuddered, for it seemed to him that any attempt to escape from the ship to the shore would be in vain, for, as if in anticipation of coming carnage, the sharks were gathering round the doomed ship.

“Lay that upon his forehead, Mrs Pugh,” he said quietly; and as she turned to the locker upon which the young man lay, Mr Meldon hastily caught Bessy’s hand in his and held it.

“I shall fight for you to the last,” he said in a low whisper. “Do not think ill of me for speaking now; but, Bessy, I love you – very dearly, and – and we may never meet again. Say one kind word to me before I go.”

She snatched her hand from his hastily, and looked upon him in a scared manner. What she would have said was checked by a sharp cry from the captain.

“Quick all!” he shouted, “they are coming.”

The doctor rushed back into the little saloon, and he was only just in time, for the door had been quietly unfastened from without, and headed by Lauré, armed to the teeth, the enemy, to the number of eight, suddenly appeared, and the two sides stood face to face.

“There, throw down those knives,” he said in a sharp voice, “fools and idiots. The tables are turned now. Parkley, Pugh, you little thought that my day would come, but it has. Now, surrender!”

There was no reply by words, and the Cuban read the intention of those he sought to master by their determined front.

“Do you want to be shot down where you stand?” he cried.

“Better that than trust to the mercies of such a scoundrel as you,” cried Dutch, passionately.

“Ah, my brave diver and shark slayer, are you there? Put down that weapon; I don’t want you hurt, nor you neither, Master Rasp, for you have to work for me.” There was no reply for a moment or two, and then Dutch spoke to the men who were with the Cuban.

“I warn you all,” he said; but as he spoke he could see that he was addressing men who were infuriated with drink. “I warn you all that we are desperate, and shall fight to the last. Come over to our side, and help to secure that scoundrel, and you shall all be richly rewarded. Fight for him, and if you escape death now, the law must overtake you for piracy, and you will be hung.”

There was a loud laugh at this, and the captain whispered:

“Shall we make a bold charge?”

“No: stand firm,” said Dutch; and the little poorly-armed party closed up more determinedly.

“What does that mean?” thought Dutch as, at a word from the Cuban, three of the men ran back up the cabin steps.

His answer came almost directly.

“Will you surrender?” cried Lauré savagely.

“No,” was the reply.

“Then your blood be upon your own heads,” he yelled. “Fire!”

He raised his own revolver as he spoke, and began to fire shot after shot at those before him, while at the same moment three shots came crashing from behind them through the skylight.

Then, headed by the Cuban, the enemy dashed into the cabin, striking right and left with the cutlasses with which they were armed, and for a few minutes there was a desperate struggle, in which for the time, though weakened by two of their men going down at the first shots, and others being wounded, the cabin party held their own, everyone fighting manfully: but the three men who had been sent to fire through the skylight came shouting down to reinforce their comrades, and thus turned the scale.

The captain went down with a terrible cut across the forehead; Mr Parkley had a bullet through the shoulder. The doctor drove his sword through one of the scoundrels, and then it broke short off, while another stabbed him in the back.

As for Dutch, he singled out Lauré, and made a desperate attack upon him with his long, keen knife, the shot the Cuban fired at him having merely grazed his neck, but directly after they were separated in the struggle as the furious knot of combatants swayed to and fro. But he rid himself of another antagonist, and seizing the cutlass with which he was armed again made at the Cuban.

As he approached, Lauré raised his revolver once more, took steady aim, and was about to fire; but regardless of this, Dutch struggled to get at him, when a wild shriek from a voice he knew made him turn for a moment, and that threw him off his guard. Poor Hester had been a horrified witness of the struggle, and had seen Lauré’s deadly aim. Till that moment her lips had been. Sealed, but now the involuntary cry escaped her, and as Dutch turned, the shot struck him on the shoulder, fortunately only ploughing a shallow flesh wound; but the next moment a blow from another hand struck him down, and the rest being mastered, the men, by Lauré’s orders dragged out two injured comrades and, securing the weapons, left the slippery cabin and secured the door.

Story 1-Chapter XXXI.

Renegades

When Dutch recovered his senses, it was to find his head resting in his wife’s lap, and the doctor busily engaged in bandaging his wounds, and as the misty sense of wonder passed off, a feeling of thankfulness came upon him, and he pressed the little soft hand that held his, for his great horror had been lest Hester should have fallen into Lauré’s hands. The joy he felt was heightened, too, by seeing Bessy Studwick there as well, busily attending her father, and then going from one to the other, carrying water, for the heat was terrible, and the wounds caused a thirst that was almost maddening. But, painful as they were, not one man had received mortal injury, and the doctor’s words were more healing even than his bandages.

Some hours passed, and then the cabin door was opened, and food and water carried in by three of the men; and then, with Lauré fully armed behind him, came ’Pollo, who with swab and pail was ordered to remove the blood that liberally besprinkled the cabin floor.

His lips parted to speak, as he was at work where Oakum sat up with bandaged head, contentedly chewing his tobacco; but a significant motion of the Cuban’s hands made him turn hastily away.

This did not close Oakum’s lips, though, for he said, quietly, —

“Glad to see they ain’t polished you off, ’Pollo, old man.”

The black did not answer, and the Cuban came round, looking curiously at his prisoners’ injuries, and scanning one after the other, ending by ordering the cabin skylight to be taken off, and the sailors and Oakum to take possession of the forecastle, thus separating them from their friends.

“I don’t want to stifle you all,” he said, quietly. “Now, listen and remember. We are all well-armed on deck, and a careful watch will be kept, consequently any man who attempts violence will be shot down. I shall treat you all well, and you can have the run of this part of the ship for the present. To-morrow we sail for a fresh sunken galleon, gentlemen. I am much obliged to you for clearing this one out, and I shall require your services for the next.”

“For clearing this one out.” The words roused an echo in Dutch’s breast as now, for the first time, he recalled his discovery of the gold, and, in spite of the pain he was in, his heart throbbed with joy. The Cuban knew nothing of the gold, which must be worth far more, he calculated, than the silver, and this was a secret confined to his own breast.

The Cuban’s plans were plain enough to them now. His object was to force them to work at the recovery of more treasure, and then perhaps make sure of what he had by killing them all afterwards; and Dutch made a mental vow that not a single descent would he make to further the villain’s aim, but as he did so he shuddered at the thought of what a powerful engine he could bring to bear by means of Hester, who was likewise in the Cuban’s power.

As this thought struck Dutch, his purpose wavered, and he felt that he would be the Cuban’s slave to save Hester from ill.

The greater part of the crew sided now with Lauré. Six of the men had been in his pay from the first, and it was their restlessness that made him hasten his plans to their development, for he had had hard work to keep them quiet, but now that the change in authority had taken place he ruled them with a rod of iron, and there was not a man who did not shrink from his look and obey him like a child. The colour with which he had stained himself remained still, but it was no longer the cringing mulatto who paced the deck, but the keen, clever Cuban, ever watchful, ever on his guard, and ready to take every precaution to secure the treasure he had won; and over this, night and day, he had an armed sentry, as if suspicious of any attempt on the part of his prisoners to rob him of it by throwing any portion overboard.

Instead of setting sail at once, he altered his mind, and nearly a month glided by – a month of misery to the prisoners, who, however, were well cared for, and made to parade the deck for a couple of hours every evening, just as an owner might exercise the beasts he kept; and Dutch knew well enough why this was done, so that he and his companions in misfortune might be ready and strong to continue their work at their tyrant’s order; but all the same there was one source of satisfaction to Dutch Pugh, for he saw how cumbered the Cuban was with his success, and in his greed for wealth at present there was a respite from his insolent advances towards Hester, who was allowed to stay unmolested with her friends.

Meanwhile the troublesome and painful wounds of those injured healed fast under the doctor’s care; and he was called upon to dress the cuts of three of Lauré’s men, who, in spite of the desperate resistance, had, saving one who died two days afterwards, escaped with trifling injuries.

The question of retaking the ship had often been mooted; but, unless some special opportunity occurred, this at present was out of the question; but many a plan was proposed and canvassed in the saloon during those dark hot nights, Sam Oakum giving it out as his idea that the best thing to do would be to take to the boat some night, and get away after laying the wires of the battery in connection with the dynamite cartridges, and blowing the ship and hose within it to perdition.

Dutch shuddered as he heard the proposal, one which he scouted as being as cowardly as it was horrible, but there was one thought which made him embrace even such a terrible plan as that.

The prisoners had been aware that something was afloat on deck, but what they could not make out, and any attempt to gain information was in vain, for when they saw ’Pollo, who brought them their meals, which, thanks to him, were good and palatable, Lauré was always watching, and to make matters worse it was very evident that the black was currying favour with the Cuban, and belonged now to the opposite faction.