The Black Bar Part 9

canvas on her."

Three of the men ceased rowing, and gazed through the haze in full belief that their messmate had heard a signal shot fired, for the man's att.i.tude and tone were so convincing that there could be no doubt.

But there was no sound to break the utter silence till Tom Fillot growled forth--

"Lie down and go to sleep, Joe Dance. You're only teasing us, and making wuss of it."

"I tell you I heerd a gun," cried the c.o.xswain.

"Ay, in your head, mate. I've been hearing the skipper giving it to Mr Russell here for keeping the cutter out all night, but it don't mean nothing, only sort o' dreams. How could the _Naughtyla.s.s_ sail to us without a breath o' wind?"

Dance stared at him wildly, and his face grew convulsed with anger, but the next moment he let his head drop down upon his hands with a groan.

Night seemed as if it would never come to bring a relief from that burning sun, which affected man after man with this curious delirium, the last touched being Mr Russell, who suddenly started up in the boat just about the hottest part of the afternoon; and, his mind still impressed by the c.o.xswain's words, he exclaimed in a peculiarly angry voice, as he stared straight before him--"I refuse to take the blame, Captain Maitland. I did my duty by you and toward the brave, patient fellows under my charge. If there is any one to blame it is yourself for leaving us behind. Quite right, Vandean. Now, my lad, for a good drink. The water's deliciously cool and sweet, and what a beautiful river. Ahoy! What s.h.i.+p's that?"

He lurched forward as he suddenly ceased speaking, uttered a low groan, and but for Tom Fillot's strong arm he would have gone overboard.

The sailor lowered him down into the bottom of the boat, where he lay back, and Mark took his kerchief from his neck, soaked it in the sea-water, wrung it out, and then laid it over the poor fellow's brow, ending by gazing inquiringly in the oarsman's face, as if asking for help.

"That's all you can do, sir," said the man, sadly.

"Touch o' sunstroke, and he's got it worse than the rest on us."

"Shall I bathe his face with the water, Tom?"

"No, sir, I don't know as I would. It might make him thirstier and worse. Better wait for sundown. When the cool time comes he may work round."

The man ceased speaking, and his companions laid in their oars before sinking down in the bottom of the boat and resting their heavy heads against the sides.

As for Mark, the rest of that afternoon pa.s.sed as if he were in some fevered dream, during which he was back home at the Devon rectory, telling his father and mother of his adventures with the slaver. Then he was bathing in a beautiful river, whose water suddenly grew painfully hot and scalded him. After that there was a long blank time, and imagination grew busy again, his brain dwelling upon the chase of the slaver, and he saw through his gla.s.s the splash in the moonlit water, as one of the poor wretches was thrown overboard to stay the progress of the _Nautilus_.

Soon after some one touched him, and he started up to find that all was dark, and that the edge of a dense cloud was silvered by the moon, while a face was bent down close to his.

"What's the matter?" he cried, excitedly.

"Things is getting wuss, sir. Mr Russell's lying there talking like in his sleep, and t'others have got it bad. You and me's the only two as have any sense left."

"I--I couldn't understand for a bit, Tom," said Mark, making an effort.

"It all seemed puzzling, but I think I know now."

"That's right, sir; and as your superior officer's down, you're in command, and have got to tell me what to do."

"What can I tell you to do?" cried Mark, in desperation. "You can't row the boat back to the coast alone."

"That's true enough, sir, but there's one thing you ought to order me to do at once."

"Yes; what?"

The sailor pointed to the flag spread out behind where the mids.h.i.+pman sat; and Mark shuddered as he grasped his meaning.

"Do you think I ought to, Tom?" whispered the lad at last, in awe-stricken tones.

"What do you think, sir, left in charge as you are?" returned the man.

"Seems a terrible thing for a young gent like you to give orders about, but I can't see no way out of it. We did our best to save him, and now it don't seem as we can save ourselves. 'Tall events, we can do no good to him, and I think the skipper--beg pardon, sir, no offence meant, the captain--will say you did what was quite right in giving me my orders."

Mark was silent, and tried to think out the matter calmly and with reason, but his head throbbed and burned, and all kinds of thoughts of other things kept on coming to confuse him and stop the regular flow of his thought, till it was as if he could think of everything else but the subject of such great importance to those on board.

At last, though, he leaned over the side, and bathed his throbbing temples with the comparatively cool water, when, by slow degrees, the beating ceased, and the power to think calmly came back.

"Do you really feel it would be right, Tom Fillot?" he said.

"I'm sure it would, sir."

"No, no, I couldn't do it," cried the boy, excitedly; "it seems too dreadful."

"More dreadful not to do it, sir, begging your pardon," said the man, quietly; and Mark gazed at him wonderingly to see how calm, manly, and serious he, the wag of the s.h.i.+p, had grown to be now.

"No, no, I dare not. Here, I'll speak to Mr Russell."

"Do, sir; but I'm afraid you won't make him understand. He's too far gone for that."

Mark went down on his knees by his officer and took his hand. Then, placing his lips close to the stricken man's ear, he asked him again and again to give him his advice what to do, but elicited nothing but a peevish muttering, as the lieutenant tossed his head from side to side.

"What I told you, sir."

"Then I'll ask Dance," cried Mark. "He is over you men, and I cannot do this without some one to share the responsibility."

"Try him, sir; but he's quite off his head, and if he says do, his advice ain't worth having, for he'll never know he said it."

All the same, in his terrible perplexity, Mark crawled over the thwarts and between the men to where the c.o.xswain lay muttering incessantly right forward, with his head resting against the pole of his. .h.i.tcher; but in spite of appeal after appeal the man lay with his eyes fixed, quite insensible to every word addressed to him, and the mids.h.i.+pman crept back to where Tom Fillot sat.

"I'm n.o.body, sir, only a common man afore the mast, so it's like impidence for me to offer to share the responsibility with a young gent like you. But being half as old again, I may say I know a little of what a man ought to do in a case like this; and I say that as you're now in command, sir, it's your duty to us, as well as to the dead."

"No, no," groaned Mark. "We may be overtaken by the s.h.i.+p at any time."

"Look here; it's of no use for you to shrink from it. Recollect where we are. You must."

But still Mark shook his head.

"It ain't as if we could do him any good, sir."

"But without Christian burial, Tom Fillot."

"He warn't a Christian, sir," said the sailor, slowly. "I'm only an ignorant man, but I've heerd say that you were a parson's son, sir, and know what's right to do at such a time. Mr Vandean, sir, you must."

Mark heaved a sigh, rose in the boat, and looked round him, trying to pierce the gloom in search of help out of his difficulty; but the moon was hidden by a black cloud, and look which way he would there was naught but the thick darkness hemming him in. With a piteous sigh he turned back to where the sailor sat waiting, made a sign, and then sank upon his knees in the bottom of the boat, feeling for the first few moments utterly alone.

The next minute the feeling of loneliness had pa.s.sed away, and firm and strong at heart, he raised his head, and made a fresh sign to his companion, who had followed his example, and who now rose and stepped over to the very stern of the boat, to stand with his back to his young officer. Then as he bent down it seemed to Mark as if the darkness had grown more profound, till there was a faint rustling noise, and a soft plunge in the black water, followed by a faint rippling whisper against the sides. Directly after the moon appeared from behind the thick ma.s.s of clouds and shed a path of silver over the sea, till it flooded the part where the cutter lay; and as Mark Vandean knelt there, he saw Tom Fillot standing before him with the Union Jack in his hand.