The Ghost Pirates - William Hope Hodgson
"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.
Fortunately, the rain had ceased, and there seemed to be no increase in
the wind; indeed, if anything, there appeared to be rather less; yet
what there was drove the flames of the flare-ups out into occasional,
twisting serpents of fire at least a yard long.
About half-way up the topmast rigging, the Second Mate sung out to the
Skipper, to know whether Plummer should light his flare; but the Old Man
said he had better wait until we reached the crosstrees, as then he
could get out away from the gear to where there would be less danger of
setting fire to anything.
We neared the crosstrees, and the Old Man stopped and sung out to me to
pass him the lantern by Quoin. A few ratlines more, and both he and the
Second Mate stopped almost simultaneously, holding their lanterns as
high as possible, and peered up into the darkness.
"See any signs of him, Mr. Tulipson?" the Old Man asked.
"No, Sir," replied the Second. "Not a sign."
He raised his voice.
"Stubbins," he sung out. "Stubbins, are you there?"
We listened; but nothing came to us beyond the blowing moan of the wind,
and the flap, flap of the bellying t'gallant above.
The Second Mate climbed over the crosstrees, and Plummer followed. The
man got out by the royal backstay, and lit his flare. By its light we
could see, plainly; but there was no vestige of Stubbins, so far as the
light went.
"Get out on to the yard-arms with those flares, you two men," shouted
the Skipper. "Be smart now! Keep them away from the sail!"
The men got on to the foot-ropes--Quoin on the port, and Jaskett on the
starboard side. By the light from Plummer's flare, I could see them
clearly, as they lay out upon the yard. It occurred to me that they went
gingerly--which is no surprising thing. And then, as they drew near to
the yard-arms, they passed beyond the brilliance of the light; so that I
could not see them clearly. A few seconds passed, and then the light
from Quoin's flare streamed out upon the wind; yet nearly a minute went
by, and there was no sign of Jaskett's.
Then out from the semi-darkness at the starboard yard-arm, there came a
curse from Jaskett, followed almost immediately by a noise of something
vibrating.
"What's up?" shouted the Second Mate. "What's up, Jaskett?"
"It's ther foot-rope, Sir-r-r!" he drew out the last word into a sort of
gasp.
The Second Mate bent quickly, with the lantern. I craned round the after
side of the top-mast, and looked.
"What is the matter, Mr. Tulipson?" I heard the Old Man singing out.
Out on the yard-arm, Jaskett began to shout for help, and then, all at
once, in the light from the Second Mate's lantern, I saw that the
starboard foot-rope on the upper topsail yard was being violently
shaken--savagely shaken, is perhaps a better word. And then, almost in
the same instant, the Second Mate shifted the lantern from his right to
his left hand. He put the right into his pocket and brought out his gun
with a jerk. He extended his hand and arm, as though pointing at
something a little below the yard. Then a quick flash spat out across
the shadows, followed immediately by a sharp, ringing crack. In the same
moment, I saw that the foot-rope ceased to shake.
"Light your flare! Light your flare, Jaskett!" the Second shouted. "Be
smart now!"
Out at the yard-arm there came a splutter of a match, and then,
straightaway, a great spurt of fire as the flare took light.
"That's better, Jaskett. You're all right now!" the Second Mate called
out to him.
"What was it, Mr. Tulipson?" I heard the Skipper ask.
I looked up, and saw that he had sprung across to where the Second Mate
was standing. The Second Mate explained to him; but he did not speak
loud enough for me to catch what he said.
I had been struck by Jaskett's attitude, when the light of his flare had
first revealed him. He had been crouched with his right knee cocked over
the yard, and his left leg down between it and the foot-rope, while his
elbows had been crooked over the yard for support, as he was lighting
the flare. Now, however, he had slid both feet back on to the foot-rope,
and was lying on his belly, over the yard, with the flare held a little
below the head of the sail. It was thus, with the light being on the
foreside of the sail, that I saw a small hole a little below the
foot-rope, through which a ray of the light shone. It was undoubtedly
the hole which the bullet from the Second Mate's revolver had made in
the sail.