The Ghost Pirates

The Second Mate came among us.

"Come on now, lads," he said. "Make a move. It's got to be done."

"I'll go," I said. "If someone else will come."

Still, no one stirred, and no one answered.

Tammy came across to me.

"I'll come," he volunteered, in a nervous voice.

"No, by God, no!" said the Second Mate, abruptly.

He jumped into the main rigging himself. "Come along, Jessop!" he shouted.

I followed him; but I was astonished. I had fully expected him to get on to the other fellows' tracks like a ton of bricks. It had not occurred to me that he was making allowances. I was simply puzzled then; but afterwards it dawned upon me.

No sooner had I followed the Second Mate, than, straightway, Stubbins,

Plummer, and Jaskett came up after us at a run.

About half-way to the maintop, the Second Mate stopped, and looked down.

"Who's that coming up below you, Jessop?" he asked.

Before I could, speak, Stubbins answered:

"It's me, Sir, an' Plummer an' Jaskett."

"Who the devil told you to come now? Go straight down, the lot of you!"

"We're comin' hup ter keep you company, Sir," was his reply.

At that, I was confident of a burst of temper from the Second; and yet, for the second time within a couple of minutes I was wrong. Instead of cursing Stubbins, he, after a moment's pause, went on up the rigging, without another word, and the rest of us followed. We reached the royal, and made short work of it; indeed, there were sufficient of us to have eaten it. When we had finished, I noticed that the Second Mate remained on the yard until we were all in the rigging. Evidently, he had determined to take a full share of any risk there might be; but I took care to keep pretty close to him; so as to be on hand if anything happened; yet we reached the deck again, without anything having occurred. I have said, without anything having occurred; but I am not really correct in this; for, as the Second Mate came down over the crosstrees, he gave a short, abrupt cry.

"Anything wrong, Sir?" I asked.

"No—o!" he said. "Nothing! I banged my knee."

And yet now, I believe he was lying. For, that same watch, I was to hear men giving just such cries; but, God knows, they had reason enough.

X

Hands That Plucked

Directly we reached the deck, the Second Mate gave the order:

"Mizzen t'gallant clewlines and buntlines," and led the way up on to the poop. He went and stood by the haulyards, ready to lower away. As I walked across to the starboard clewline, I saw that the Old Man was on deck, and as I took hold of the rope, I heard him sing out to the Second Mate.

"Call all hands to shorten sail, Mr. Tulipson."

"Very good, Sir," the Second Mate replied. Then he raised his voice:

"Go forrard, you, Jessop, and call all hands to shorten sail. You'd better give them a call in the bosun's place, as you go."

"i, i, Sir," I sung out, and hurried off.

As I went, I heard him tell Tammy to go down and call the Mate.

Reaching the fo'cas'le, I put my head in through the starboard doorway, and found some of the men beginning to turn-in.

"It's all hands on deck, shorten sail," I sung out.

I stepped inside.

"Just wot I said," grumbled one of the men.

"They don't damn well think we're goin' aloft to-night, after what's happened?" asked another.

"We've been up to the main royal," I answered. "The Second Mate went with us."

"Wot?" said the first man. "Ther Second Mate hisself?"

"Yes," I replied. "The whole blooming watch went up."

"An' wot 'appened?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said. "Nothing at all. We just made a mouthful apiece of it, and came down again."

"All the same," remarked the second man, "I don't fancy goin' upstairs, after what's happened."

"Well," I replied. "It's not a matter of fancy. We've got to get the sail off her, or there'll be a mess. One of the 'prentices told me the glass is falling."

"Come erlong, boys. We've got ter du it," said one of the older men, rising from a chest, at this point. "What's it duin' outside, mate?"

"Raining," I said. "You'll want your oilskins."

I hesitated a moment before going on deck again. From the bunk forrard among the shadows, I had seemed to hear a faint moan.

"Poor beggar!" I thought to myself.

Then the old chap who had last spoken, broke in upon my attention.

"It's awl right, mate!" he said, rather testily. "Yer needn't wait.

We'll be out in er minit."

"That's all right. I wasn't thinking about you lot," I replied, and walked forrard to Jacobs's bunk. Some time before, he had rigged up a pair of curtains, cut out of an old sack, to keep off the draught. These, some one had drawn, so that I had to pull them aside to see him. He was lying on his back, breathing in a queer, jerky fashion. I could not see his face, plainly; but it seemed rather pale, in the half-light.

"Jacobs," I said. "Jacobs, how do you feel now?" but he made no sign to show that he had heard me. And so, after a few moments, I drew the curtains to again, and left him.

"What like does 'e seem?" asked one of the fellows, as I went towards the door.

"Bad," I said. "Damn bad! I think the Steward ought to be told to come and have a look at him. I'll mention it to the Second when I get a chance."

I stepped out on deck, and ran aft again to give them a hand with the sail. We got it hauled up, and then went forrard to the fore t'gallant. And, a minute later, the other watch were out, and, with the Mate, were busy at the main.

By the time the main was ready for making fast, we had the fore hauled up, so that now all three t'gallants were in the ropes, and ready for stowing. Then came the order:

"Up aloft and furl!"

"Up with you, lads," the Second Mate said. "Don't let's have any hanging back this time."

Away aft by the main, the men in the Mate's watch seemed to be standing in a clump by the mast; but it was too dark to see clearly. I heard the Mate start to curse; then there came a growl, and he shut up.

"Be handy, men! be handy!" the Second Mate sung out.

At that, Stubbins jumped into the rigging.

"Come hon!" he shouted. "We'll have ther bloomin' sail fast, an' down hon deck again before they're started."

Plummer followed; then Jaskett, I, and Quoin who had been called down off the look-out to give a hand.

"That's the style, lads!" the Second sung out, encouragingly. Then he ran aft to the Mate's crowd. I heard him and the Mate talking to the men, and presently, when we were going over the foretop, I made out that they were beginning to get into the rigging.

I found out, afterwards, that as soon as the Second Mate had seen them off the deck, he went up to the mizzen t'gallant, along with the four 'prentices.

On our part, we made our way slowly aloft, keeping one hand for ourselves and the other for the ship, as you can fancy. In this manner we had gone as far as the crosstrees, at least, Stubbins, who was first, had; when, all at once, he gave out just another such cry as had the Second Mate a little earlier, only that in his case he followed it by turning round and blasting Plummer.

"You might have blarsted well sent me flyin' down hon deck," he shouted.

"If you bl—dy well think it's a joke, try it hon some one else—"

"It wasn't me!" interrupted Plummer. "I 'aven't touched yer. 'oo the 'ell are yer swearin' at?"

"At you—!" I heard him reply; but what more he may have said, was lost in a loud shout from Plummer.

"What's up, Plummer?" I sung out. "For God's sake, you two, don't get fighting, up aloft!"

But a loud, frightened curse was all the answer he gave. Then straightway, he began to shout at the top of his voice, and in the lulls of his noise, I caught the voice of Stubbins, cursing savagely.

"They'll come down with a run!" I shouted, helplessly. "They'll come down as sure as nuts."

I caught Jaskett by the boot.

"What are they doing? What are they doing?" I sung out. "Can't you see?" I shook his leg as I spoke. But at my touch, the old idiot—as I thought him at the moment—began to shout in a frightened voice:

"Oh! oh! help! hel—!"

"Shut up!" I bellowed. "Shut up, you old fool. If you won't do anything, let me get past you."

Yet he only cried out the more. And then, abruptly, I caught the sound of a frightened clamour of men's voices, away down somewhere about the maintop—curses, cries of fear, even shrieks, and above it all, someone shouting to go down on deck:

"Get down! get down! down! down! Blarst—" The rest was drowned in a fresh outburst of hoarse crying in the night.

I tried to get past old Jaskett; but he was clinging to the rigging, sprawled on to it, is the best way to describe his attitude, so much of it as I could see in the darkness. Up above him, Stubbins and Plummer still shouted and cursed, and the shrouds quivered and shook, as though the two were fighting desperately.

Stubbins seemed to be shouting something definite; but whatever it was,

I could not catch.

At my helplessness, I grew angry, and shook and prodded Jaskett, to make him move.

"Damn you, Jaskett!" I roared. "Damn you for a funky old fool! Let me get past! Let me get past, will you!"

But, instead of letting me pass, I found that he was beginning to make his way down. At that, I caught him by the slack of his trousers, near the stern, with my right hand, and with the other, I got hold of the after shroud somewhere above his left hip; by these means, I fairly hoisted myself up on to the old fellow's back. Then, with my right, I could reach to the forrard shroud, over his right shoulder, and having got a grip, I shifted my left to a level with it; at the same moment, I was able to get my foot on to the splice of a ratline and so give myself a further lift. Then I paused an instant, and glanced up.

"Stubbins! Stubbins!" I shouted. "Plummer! Plummer!"

And even as I called, Plummer's foot—reaching down through the gloom— alighted full on my upturned face. I let go from the rigging with my right hand, and struck furiously at his leg, cursing him for his clumsiness. He lifted his foot, and in the same instant a sentence from Stubbins floated down to me, with a strange distinctness:

"For God's sake tell 'em to get down hon deck!" he was shouting.

Even as the words came to me, something in the darkness gripped my waist. I made a desperate clutch at the rigging with my disengaged right hand, and it was well for me that I secured the hold so quickly, for the same instant, I was wrenched at with a brutal ferocity that appalled me. I said nothing, but lashed out into the night with my left foot. It is queer, but I cannot say with certainty that I struck anything; I was too downright desperate with funk, to be sure; and yet it seemed to me that my foot encountered something soft, that gave under the blow. It may have been nothing more than an imagined sensation; yet I am inclined to think otherwise; for, instantly, the hold about my waist was released; and I commenced to scramble down, clutching the shrouds pretty desperately.

I have only a very uncertain remembrance of that which followed. Whether I slid over Jaskett, or whether he gave way to me, I cannot tell. I know only that I reached the deck, in a blind whirl of fear and excitement, and the next thing I remember, I was among a crowd of shouting, half-mad sailor-men.

XI

The Search for Stubbins

In a confused way, I was conscious that the Skipper and the Mates were down among us, trying to get us into some state of calmness. Eventually they succeeded, and we were told to go aft to the Saloon door, which we did in a body. Here, the Skipper himself served out a large tot of rum to each of us. Then, at his orders, the Second Mate called the roll.

He called over the Mate's watch first, and everyone answered. Then he came to ours, and he must have been much agitated; for the first name he sung out was Jock's.

Among us there came a moment of dead silence, and I noticed the wail and moan of the wind aloft, and the flap, flap of the three unfurled t'gallan's'ls.

The Second Mate called the next name, hurriedly:

"Jaskett," he sung out.

"Sir," Jaskett answered.

"Quoin."

"Yes, Sir."

"Jessop."

"Sir," I replied.

"Stubbins."

There was no answer.

"Stubbins," again called the Second Mate.

Again there was no reply.

"Is Stubbins here?—anyone!" The Second's voice sounded sharp and anxious.

There was a moment's pause. Then one of the men spoke:

"He's not here, Sir."

"Who saw him last?" the Second asked.

Plummer stepped forward into the light that streamed through the Saloon doorway. He had on neither coat nor cap, and his shirt seemed to be hanging about him in tatters.

"It were me, Sir," he said.

The Old Man, who was standing next to the Second Mate, took a pace towards him, and stopped and stared; but it was the Second who spoke.

"Where?" he asked.

"'e were just above me, in ther crosstrees, when, when—" the man broke off short.

"Yes! yes!" the Second Mate replied. Then he turned to the Skipper.

"Someone will have to go up, Sir, and see—" He hesitated.

"But—" said the Old Man, and stopped.

The Second Mate cut in.

"I shall go up, for one, Sir," he said, quietly.

Then he turned back to the crowd of us.

"Tammy," he sung out. "Get a couple of lamps out of the lamp-locker."

"i, i, Sir," Tammy replied, and ran off.

"Now," said the Second Mate, addressing us. "I want a couple of men to jump aloft along with me and take a look for Stubbins."

Not a man replied. I would have liked to step out and offer; but the memory of that horrible clutch was with me, and for the life of me, I could not summon up the courage.

"Come! come, men!" he said. "We can't leave him up there. We shall take lanterns. Who'll come now?"

I walked out to the front. I was in a horrible funk; but, for very shame, I could not stand back any longer.

"I'll come with you, Sir," I said, not very loud, and feeling fairly twisted up with nervousness.

"That's more the tune, Jessop!" he replied, in a tone that made me glad

I had stood out.

At this point, Tammy came up, with the lights. He brought them to the

Second, who took one, and told him to give the other to me. The Second

Mate held his light above his head, and looked round at the hesitating

men.

"Now, men!" he sung out. "You're not going to let Jessop and me go up alone. Come along, another one or two of you! Don't act like a damned lot of cowards!"

Quoin stood out, and spoke for the crowd.

"I dunno as we're actin' like cowyards, Sir; but just look at 'im," and he pointed at Plummer, who still stood full in the light from the Saloon doorway.

"What sort of a Thing is it 'as done that, Sir?" he went on. "An' then yer arsks us ter go up agen! It aren't likely as we're in a 'urry."

The Second Mate looked at Plummer, and surely, as I have before mentioned, the poor beggar was in a state; his ripped-up shirt was fairly flapping in the breeze that came through the doorway.

The Second looked; yet he said nothing. It was as though the realisation of Plummer's condition had left him without a word more to say. It was Plummer himself who finally broke the silence.

"I'll come with yer, Sir," he said. "Only yer ought ter 'ave more light than them two lanterns. 'Twon't be no use, unless we 'as plenty er light."

The man had grit; and I was astonished at his offering to go, after what he must have gone through. Yet, I was to have even a greater astonishment; for, abruptly, The Skipper—who all this time had scarcely spoken—stepped forward a pace, and put his hand on the Second Mate's shoulder.

"I'll come with you, Mr. Tulipson," he said.

The Second Mate twisted his head round, and stared at him a moment, in astonishment. Then he opened his mouth.

"No, Sir; I don't think—" he began.

"That's sufficient, Mr. Tulipson," the Old Man interrupted. "I've made up my mind."

He turned to the First Mate, who had stood by without a word.

"Mr. Grainge," he said. "Take a couple of the 'prentices down with you, and pass out a box of blue-lights and some flare-ups."

The Mate answered something, and hurried away into the Saloon, with the two 'prentices in his watch. Then the Old Man spoke to the men.

"Now, men!" he began. "This is no time for dilly-dallying. The Second Mate and I will go aloft, and I want about half a dozen of you to come along with us, and carry lights. Plummer and Jessop here, have volunteered. I want four or five more of you. Step out now, some of you!"

There was no hesitation whatever, now; and the first man to come forward was Quoin. After him followed three of the Mate's crowd, and then old Jaskett.

"That will do; that will do," said the Old Man.

He turned to the Second Mate.

"Has Mr. Grainge come with those lights yet?" he asked, with a certain irritability.

"Here, Sir," said the First Mate's voice, behind him in the Saloon doorway. He had the box of blue-lights in his hands, and behind him, came the two boys carrying the flares.

The Skipper took the box from him, with a quick gesture, and opened it.

"Now, one of you men, come here," he ordered.

One of the men in the Mate's watch ran to him.

He took several of the lights from the box, and handed them to the man.

"See here," he said. "When we go aloft, you get into the foretop, and keep one of these going all the time, do you hear?"

"Yes, Sir," replied the man.

"You know how to strike them?" the Skipper asked, abruptly.

"Yes, Sir," he answered.

The Skipper sung out to the Second Mate:

"Where's that boy of yours—Tammy, Mr. Tulipson?"

"Here, Sir," said Tammy, answering for himself.

The Old Man took another light from the box.

"Listen to me, boy!" he said. "Take this, and stand-by on the forrard deck house. When we go aloft, you must give us a light until the man gets his going in the top. You understand?"

"Yes, Sir," answered Tammy, and took the light.

"One minute!" said the Old Man, and stooped and took a second light from the box. "Your first light may go out before we're ready. You'd better have another, in case it does."

Tammy took the second light, and moved away.

"Those flares all ready for lighting there, Mr. Grainge?" the Captain asked.

"All ready, Sir," replied the Mate.

The Old Man pushed one of the blue-lights into his coat pocket, and stood upright.

"Very well," he said. "Give each of the men one apiece. And just see that they all have matches."

He spoke to the men particularly:

"As soon as we are ready, the other two men in the Mate's watch will get up into the cranelines, and keep their flares going there. Take your paraffin tins with you. When we reach the upper topsail, Quoin and Jaskett will get out on the yard-arms, and show their flares there. Be careful to keep your lights away from the sails. Plummer and Jessop will come up with the Second Mate and myself. Does every man clearly understand?"

"Yes, Sir," said the men in a chorus.

A sudden idea seemed to occur to the Skipper, and he turned, and went through the doorway into the Saloon. In about a minute, he came back, and handed something to the Second Mate, that shone in the light from the lanterns. I saw that it was a revolver, and he held another in his other hand, and this I saw him put into his side pocket.

The Second Mate held the pistol a moment, looking a bit doubtful.

"I don't think, Sir—" he began. But the Skipper cut him short.

"You don't know!" he said. "Put it in your pocket."

Then he turned to the First Mate.

"You will take charge of the deck, Mr. Grainge, while we're aloft," he said.

"i, i, Sir," the Mate answered and sung out to one of his 'prentices to take the blue-light box back into the cabin.

The Old Man turned and led the way forrard. As we went, the light from the two lanterns shone upon the decks, showing the litter of the t'gallant gear. The ropes were foul of one another in a regular "bunch o' buffers[1]." This had been caused, I suppose, by the crowd trampling over them in their excitement, when they reached the deck. And then, suddenly, as though the sight had waked me up to a more vivid comprehension, you know, it came to me new and fresh, how damned strange was the whole business… I got a little touch of despair, and asked myself what was going to be the end of all these beastly happenings. You can understand?

[Footnote 1: Modified from the original.]

Abruptly, I heard the Skipper shouting, away forward. He was singing out to Tammy to get up on to the house with his blue-light. We reached the fore rigging, and, the same instant, the strange, ghastly flare of Tammy's blue-light burst out into the night causing every rope, sail, and spar to jump out weirdly.

I saw now that the Second Mate was already in the starboard rigging, with his lantern. He was shouting to Tammy to keep the drip from his light clear of the staysail, which was stowed upon the house. Then, from somewhere on the port side, I heard the Skipper shout to us to hurry.

"Smartly now, you men," he was saying. "Smartly now."

The man who had been told to take up a station in the fore-top, was just behind the Second Mate. Plummer was a couple of ratlines lower.

I caught the Old Man's voice again.

"Where's Jessop with that other lantern?" I heard him shout.

"Here, Sir," I sung out.

"Bring it over this side," he ordered. "You don't want the two lanterns on one side."

I ran round the fore side of the house. Then I saw him. He was in the rigging, and making his way smartly aloft. One of the Mate's watch and Quoin were with him. This, I saw as I came round the house. Then I made a jump, gripped the sheerpole, and swung myself up on to the rail. And then, all at once, Tammy's blue-light went out, and there came, what seemed by contrast, pitchy darkness. I stood where I was—one foot on the rail and my knee upon the sheerpole. The light from my lantern seemed no more than a sickly yellow glow against the gloom, and higher, some forty or fifty feet, and a few ratlines below the futtock rigging on the starboard side, there was another glow of yellowness in the night. Apart from these, all was blackness. And then from above—high above—there wailed down through the darkness a weird, sobbing cry. What it was, I do not know; but it sounded horrible.

The Skipper's voice came down, jerkily.

"Smartly with that light, boy!" he shouted. And the blue glare blazed out again, almost before he had finished speaking.

I stared up at the Skipper. He was standing where I had seen him before the light went out, and so were the two men. As I looked, he commenced to climb again. I glanced across to starboard. Jaskett, and the other man in the Mate's watch, were about midway between the deck of the house and the foretop. Their faces showed extraordinary pale in the dead glare of the blue-light. Higher, I saw the Second Mate in the futtock rigging, holding his light up over the edge of the top. Then he went further, and disappeared. The man with the blue-lights followed, and also vanished from view. On the port side, and more directly above me, the Skipper's feet were just stepping out of the futtock shrouds. At that I made haste to follow.

Then, suddenly, when I was close under the top, there came from above me the sharp flare of a blue-light, and almost in the same instant, Tammy's went out.

I glanced down at the decks. They were filled with flickering, grotesque shadows cast by the dripping light above. A group of the men stood by the port galley door—their faces upturned and pale and unreal under the gleam of the light.

Then I was in the futtock rigging, and a moment afterwards, standing in the top, beside the Old Man. He was shouting to the men who had gone out on the craneline. It seemed that the man on the port side was bungling; but at last—nearly a minute after the other man had lit his flare—he got going. In that time, the man in the top had lit his second blue-light, and we were ready to get into the topmast rigging. First, however, the Skipper leant over the afterside of the top, and sung out to the First Mate to send a man up on to the fo'cas'le head with a flare. The Mate replied, and then we started again, the Old Man leading.