The Ghost Pirates - William Hope Hodgson
Then I heard the Old Man shouting to Jaskett.
"Be careful with that flare there!" he sung out. "You'll be having that
sail scorched!"
He left the Second Mate, and came back on to the port side of the mast.
To my right, Plummer's flares seemed to be dwindling. I glanced up at
his face through the smoke. He was paying no attention to it; instead,
he was staring up above his head.
"Shove some paraffin on to it, Plummer," I called to him. "It'll be out
in a minute."
He looked down quickly to the light, and did as I suggested. Then he
held it out at arm's length, and peered up again into the darkness.
"See anything?" asked the Old Man, suddenly observing his attitude.
Plummer glanced at him, with a start.
"It's ther r'yal, Sir," he explained. "It's all adrift."
"What!" said the Old Man.
He was standing a few ratlines up the t'gallant rigging, and he bent his
body outwards to get a better look.
"Mr. Tulipson!" he shouted. "Do you know that the royal's all adrift?"
"No, Sir," answered the Second Mate. "If it is, it's more of this
devilish work!"
"It's adrift right enough," said the Skipper, and he and the Second went
a few ratlines higher, keeping level with one another.
I had now got above the crosstrees, and was just at the Old Man's heels.
Suddenly, he shouted out:
"There he is!--Stubbins! Stubbins!"
"Where, Sir?" asked the Second, eagerly. "I can't see him!"
"There! there!" replied the Skipper, pointing.
I leant out from the rigging, and looked up along his back, in the
direction his finger indicated. At first, I could see nothing; then,
slowly, you know, there grew upon my sight a dim figure crouching upon
the bunt of the royal, and partly hidden by the mast. I stared, and
gradually it came to me that there was a couple of them, and further out
upon the yard, a hump that might have been anything, and was only
visible indistinctly amid the flutter of the canvas.
"Stubbins!" the Skipper sung out. "Stubbins, come down out of that! Do
you hear me?"
But no one came, and there was no answer.
"There's two--" I began; but he was shouting again:
"Come down out of that! Do you damned well hear me?"
Still there was no reply.
"I'm hanged if I can see him at all, Sir!" the Second Mate called out
from his side of the mast.
"Can't see him!" said the Old Man, now thoroughly angry. "I'll soon let
you see him!"
He bent down to me with the lantern.
"Catch hold, Jessop," he said, which I did.
Then he pulled the blue light from his pocket, and as he was doing so, I
saw the Second peek round the back side of the mast at him. Evidently,
in the uncertain light, he must have mistaken the Skipper's action; for,
all at once, he shouted out in a frightened voice:
"Don't shoot, Sir! For God's sake, don't shoot!"
"Shoot be damned!" exclaimed the Old Man. "Watch!"
He pulled off the cap of the light.
"There's two of them, Sir," I called again to him.
"What!" he said in a loud voice, and at the same instant he rubbed the
end of the light across the cap, and it burst into fire.
He held it up so that it lit the royal yard like day, and straightway, a
couple of shapes dropped silently from the royal on to the t'gallant
yard. At the same moment, the humped Something, midway out upon the
yard, rose up. It ran in to the mast, and I lost sight of it.
"God!" I heard the Skipper gasp, and he fumbled in his side pocket.
I saw the two figures which had dropped on to the t'gallant, run swiftly
along the yard--one to the starboard and the other to the port
yard-arms.
On the other side of the mast, the Second Mate's pistol cracked out
twice, sharply. Then, from over my head the Skipper fired twice, and
then again; but with what effect, I could not tell. Abruptly, as he
fired his last shot, I was aware of an indistinct Something, gliding
down the starboard royal backstay. It was descending full upon Plummer,
who, all unconscious of the thing, was staring towards the t'gallant
yard.
"Look out above you, Plummer!" I almost shrieked.
"What? where?" he called, and grabbed at the stay, and waved his flare,
excitedly.
Down on the upper topsail yard, Quoin's and Jaskett's voices rose
simultaneously, and in the identical instant, their flares went out.
Then Plummer shouted, and his light went utterly. There were left only
the two lanterns, and the blue-light held by the Skipper, and that, a
few seconds afterwards, finished and died out.
The Skipper and the Second Mate were shouting to the men upon the yard,
and I heard them answer, in shaky voices. Out on the crosstrees, I could
see, by the light from my lantern, that Plummer was holding in a dazed
fashion to the backstay.
"Are you all right, Plummer?" I called.
"Yes," he said, after a little pause; and then he swore.
"Come in off that yard, you men!" the Skipper was singing out. "Come in!
come in!"
Down on deck, I heard someone calling; but could not distinguish the
words. Above me, pistol in hand, the Skipper was glancing about,
uneasily.
"Hold up that light, Jessop," he said. "I can't see!"
Below us, the men got off the yard, into the rigging.
"Down on deck with you!" ordered the Old Man.
"As smartly as you can!"
"Come in off there, Plummer!" sung out the Second Mate. "Get down with
the others!"
"Down with you, Jessop!" said the Skipper, speaking rapidly. "Down with
you!"
I got over the crosstrees, and he followed. On the other side, the
Second Mate was level with us. He had passed his lantern to Plummer, and
I caught the glint of his revolver in his right hand. In this fashion,
we reached the top. The man who had been stationed there with the
blue-lights, had gone. Afterwards, I found that he went down on deck as
soon as they were finished. There was no sign of the man with the flare
on the starboard craneline. He also, I learnt later, had slid down one
of the backstays on to the deck, only a very short while before we
reached the top. He swore that a great black shadow of a man had come
suddenly upon him from aloft. When I heard that, I remembered the thing
I had seen descending upon Plummer. Yet the man who had gone out upon
the port craneline--the one who had bungled with the lighting of his
flare--was still where we had left him; though his light was burning now
but dimly.
"Come in out of that, _you!_" the Old Man sung out "Smartly now, and get
down on deck!"
"i, i, Sir," the man replied, and started to make his way in.
The Skipper waited until he had got into the main rigging, and then he
told me to get down out of the top. He was in the act of following,
when, all at once, there rose a loud outcry on deck, and then came the
sound of a man screaming.
"Get out of my way, Jessop!" the Skipper roared, and swung himself down
alongside of me.
I heard the Second Mate shout something from the starboard rigging. Then
we were all racing down as hard as we could go. I had caught a momentary
glimpse of a man running from the doorway on the port side of the
fo'cas'le. In less than half a minute we were upon the deck, and among a
crowd of the men who were grouped round something. Yet, strangely
enough, they were not looking at the thing among them; but away aft at
something in the darkness.
"It's on the rail!" cried several voices.
"Overboard!" called somebody, in an excited voice. "It's jumped over the
side!"
"Ther' wer'n't nothin'!" said a man in the crowd.
"Silence!" shouted the Old Man. "Where's the Mate? What's happened?"
"Here, Sir," called the First Mate, shakily, from near the centre of the
group. "It's Jacobs, Sir. He--he--"
"What!" said the Skipper. "What!"
"He--he's--he's--dead I think!" said the First Mate, in jerks.
"Let me see," said the Old Man, in a quieter tone.
The men had stood to one side to give him room, and he knelt beside the
man upon the deck.
"Pass the lantern here, Jessop," he said.
I stood by him, and held the light. The man was lying face downwards on
the deck. Under the light from the lantern, the Skipper turned him over
and looked at him.
"Yes," he said, after a short examination. "He's dead."
He stood up and regarded the body a moment, in silence. Then he turned
to the Second Mate, who had been standing by, during the last couple of
minutes.
"Three!" he said, in a grim undertone.
The Second Mate nodded, and cleared his voice.
He seemed on the point of saying something; then he turned and looked at
Jacobs, and said nothing.
"Three," repeated the Old Man. "Since eight bells!"
He stooped and looked again at Jacobs.
"Poor devil! poor devil!" he muttered.
The Second Mate grunted some of the huskiness out of his throat, and
spoke.
"Where must we take him?" he asked, quietly. "The two bunks are full."
"You'll have to put him down on the deck by the lower bunk," replied the
Skipper.
As they carried him away, I heard the Old Man make a sound that was
almost a groan. The rest of the men had gone forrard, and I do not think
he realised that I was standing by him
"My God! O, my God!" he muttered, and began to walk slowly aft.
He had cause enough for groaning. There were three dead, and Stubbins
had gone utterly and completely. We never saw him again.
XII
_The Council_
A few minutes later, the Second Mate came forrard again. I was still
standing near the rigging, holding the lantern, in an aimless sort of
way.
"That you, Plummer?" he asked.
"No, Sir," I said. "It's Jessop."
"Where's Plummer, then?" he inquired.
"I don't know, Sir," I answered. "I expect he's gone forrard. Shall I go
and tell him you want him?"
"No, there's no need," he said. "Tie your lamp up in the rigging--on the
sheerpole there. Then go and get his, and shove it up on the starboard
side. After that you'd better go aft and give the two 'prentices a hand
in the lamp locker."
"i, i, Sir," I replied, and proceeded to do as he directed. After I had
got the light from Plummer, and lashed it up to the starboard sherpole,
I hurried aft. I found Tammy and the other 'prentice in our watch, busy
in the locker, lighting lamps.
"What are we doing?" I asked.
"The Old Man's given orders to lash all the spare lamps we can find, in
the rigging, so as to have the decks light," said Tammy. "And a damned
good job too!"
He handed me a couple of the lamps, and took two himself.
"Come on," he said, and stepped out on deck. "We'll fix these in the
main rigging, and then I want to talk to you."
"What about the mizzen?" I inquired.
"Oh," he replied. "He" (meaning the other 'prentice) "will see to that.
Anyway, it'll be daylight directly."
We shoved the lamps up on the sherpoles--two on each side. Then he came
across to me.
"Look here, Jessop!" he said, without any hesitation. "You'll have to
jolly well tell the Skipper and the Second Mate all you know about all
this."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"Why, that it's something about the ship herself that's the cause of
what's happened," he replied. "If you'd only explained to the Second
Mate when I told you to, this might never have been!"
"But I don't _know_," I said. "I may be all wrong. It's only an idea of
mine. I've no proofs--"
"Proofs!" he cut in with. "Proofs! what about tonight? We've had all the
proofs ever I want!"
I hesitated before answering him.
"So have I, for that matter," I said, at length. "What I mean is, I've
nothing that the Skipper and the Second Mate would consider as proofs.
They'd never listen seriously to me."
"They'd listen fast enough," he replied. "After what's happened this
watch, they'd listen to anything. Anyway, it's jolly well your duty to
tell them!"
"What could they do, anyway?" I said, despondently. "As things are
going, we'll all be dead before another week is over, at this rate."
"You tell them," he answered. "That's what you've got to do. If you can
only get them to realise that you're right, they'll be glad to put into
the nearest port, and send us all ashore."
I shook my head.
"Well, anyway, they'll have to do something," he replied, in answer to
my gesture. "We can't go round the Horn, with the number of men we've
lost. We haven't enough to handle her, if it comes on to blow."
"You've forgotten, Tammy," I said. "Even if I could get the Old Man to
believe I'd got at the truth of the matter, he couldn't do anything.
Don't you see, if I'm right, we couldn't even see the land, if we made
it. We're like blind men...."
"What on earth do you mean?" he interrupted. "How do you make out we're
like blind men? Of course we could see the land--"
"Wait a minute! wait a minute!" I said. "You don't understand. Didn't I
tell you?"
"Tell what?" he asked.
"About the ship I spotted," I said. "I thought you knew!"
"No," he said. "When?"
"Why," I replied. "You know when the Old Man sent me away from the
wheel?"
"Yes," he answered. "You mean in the morning watch, day before
yesterday?"
"Yes," I said. "Well, don't you know what was the matter?"
"No," he replied. "That is, I heard you were snoozing at the wheel, and
the Old Man came up and caught you."
"That's all a darned silly yarn!" I said. And then I told him the whole
truth of the affair. After I had done that, I explained my idea about
it, to him.
"Now you see what I mean?" I asked.
"You mean that this strange atmosphere--or whatever it is--we're in,
would not allow us to see another ship?" he asked, a bit awestruck.
"Yes," I said. "But the point I wanted you to see, is that if we can't
see another vessel, even when she's quite close, then, in the same way,
we shouldn't be able to see land. To all intents and purposes we're
blind. Just you think of it! We're out in the middle of the briny, doing
a sort of eternal blind man's hop. The Old Man couldn't put into port,
even if he wanted to. He'd run us bang on shore, without our ever seeing
it."
"What are we going to do, then?" he asked, in a despairing sort of way.
"Do you mean to say we can't do anything? Surely something can be done!
It's terrible!"
For perhaps a minute, we walked up and down, in the light from the
different lanterns. Then he spoke again.
"We might be run down, then," he said, "and never even see the other
vessel?"
"It's possible," I replied. "Though, from what I saw, it's evident that
_we're_ quite visible; so that it would be easy for them to see us, and
steer clear of us, even though we couldn't see them."
"And we might run into something, and never see it?" he asked me,
following up the train of thought.
"Yes," I said. "Only there's nothing to stop the other ship from getting
out of our way."
"But if it wasn't a vessel?" he persisted. "It might be an iceberg, or a
rock, or even a derelict."
"In that case," I said, putting it a bit flippantly, naturally, "we'd
probably damage it."
He made no answer to this and for a few moments, we were quiet.
Then he spoke abruptly, as though the idea had come suddenly to him.
"Those lights the other night!" he said. "Were they a ship's lights?"
"Yes," I replied. "Why?"
"Why," he answered. "Don't you see, if they were really lights, we
_could_ see them?"
"Well, I should think I ought to know that," I replied. "You seem to
forget that the Second Mate slung me off the look-out for daring to do
that very thing."
"I don't mean that," he said. "Don't you see that if we could see them
at all, it showed that the atmosphere-thing wasn't round us then?"
"Not necessarily," I answered. "It may have been nothing more than a
rift in it; though, of course, I may be all wrong. But, anyway, the fact
that the lights disappeared almost as soon as they were seen, shows that
it was very much round the ship."
That made him feel a bit the way I did, and when next he spoke, his tone
had lost its hopefulness.
"Then you think it'll be no use telling the Second Mate and the Skipper
anything?" he asked.
"I don't know," I replied. "I've been thinking about it, and it can't do
any harm. I've a very good mind to."
"I should," he said. "You needn't be afraid of anybody laughing at you,
now. It might do some good. You've seen more than anyone else."
He stopped in his walk, and looked round.
"Wait a minute," he said, and ran aft a few steps. I saw him look up at
the break of the poop; then he came back.
"Come along now," he said. "The Old Man's up on the poop, talking to the
Second Mate. You'll never get a better chance."
Still I hesitated; but he caught me by the sleeve, and almost dragged me
to the lee ladder.
"All right," I said, when I got there. "All right, I'll come. Only I'm
hanged if I know what to say when I get there."
"Just tell them you want to speak to them," he said. "They'll ask what
you want, and then you spit out all you know. They'll find it
interesting enough."
"You'd better come too," I suggested. "You'll be able to back me up in
lots of things."
"I'll come, fast enough," he replied. "You go up."
I went up the ladder, and walked across to where the Skipper and the
Second Mate stood talking earnestly, by the rail. Tammy kept behind. As
I came near to them, I caught two or three words; though I attached no
meaning then to them. They were: "...send for him." Then the two of them
turned and looked at me, and the Second Mate asked what I wanted.
"I want to speak to you and the Old M--Captain, Sir," I answered.
"What is it, Jessop?" the Skipper inquired.
"I scarcely know how to put it, Sir," I said. "It's--it's about these--
these things."
"What things? Speak out, man," he said.
"Well, Sir," I blurted out. "There's some dreadful thing or things come
aboard this ship, since we left port."
I saw him give one quick glance at the Second Mate, and the Second
looked back.
Then the Skipper replied.
"How do you mean, come aboard?" he asked.
"Out of the sea, Sir," I said. "I've seen them. So's Tammy, here."
"Ah!" he exclaimed, and it seemed to me, from his face, that he was
understanding something better. "Out of the Sea!"
Again he looked at the Second Mate; but the Second was staring at me.
"Yes Sir," I said. "It's the _ship_. She's not safe! I've watched. I
think I understand a bit; but there's a lot I don't."
I stopped. The Skipper had turned to the Second Mate. The Second nodded,
gravely. Then I heard him mutter, in a low voice, and the Old Man
replied; after which he turned to me again.
"Look here, Jessop," he said. "I'm going to talk straight to you. You
strike me as being a cut above the ordinary shellback, and I think
you've sense enough to hold your tongue."
"I've got my mate's ticket, Sir," I said, simply.
Behind me, I heard Tammy give a little start. He had not known about it
until then.
The Skipper nodded.
"So much the better," he answered. "I may have to speak to you about
that, later on."
He paused, and the Second Mate said something to him, in an undertone.
"Yes," he said, as though in reply to what the Second had been saying.
Then he spoke to me again.
"You've seen things come out of the sea, you say?" he questioned. "Now
just tell me all you can remember, from the very beginning."
I set to, and told him everything in detail, commencing with the strange
figure that had stepped aboard out of the sea, and continuing my yarn,
up to the things that had happened in that very watch.
I stuck well to solid facts; and now and then he and the Second Mate
would look at one another, and nod. At the end, he turned to me with an
abrupt gesture.
"You still hold, then, that you saw a ship the other morning, when I
sent you from the wheel?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," I said. "I most certainly do."
"But you knew there wasn't any!" he said.
"Yes, Sir," I replied, in an apologetic tone. "There was; and, if you
will let me, I believe that I can explain it a bit."
"Well," he said. "Go on."
Now that I knew he was willing to listen to me in a serious manner all
my funk of telling him had gone, and I went ahead and told him my ideas
about the mist, and the thing it seemed to have ushered, you know. I
finished up, by telling him how Tammy had worried me to come and tell
what I knew.
"He thought then, Sir," I went on, "that you might wish to put into the
nearest port; but I told him that I didn't think you could, even if you
wanted to."
"How's that?" he asked, profoundly interested.
"Well, Sir," I replied. "If we're unable to see other vessels, we
shouldn't be able to see the land. You'd be piling the ship up, without
ever seeing where you were putting her."
This view of the matter, affected the Old Man in an extraordinary
manner; as it did, I believe, the Second Mate. And neither spoke for a
moment. Then the Skipper burst out.
"By Gad! Jessop," he said. "If you're right, the Lord have mercy on us."
He thought for a couple of seconds. Then he spoke again, and I could see
that he was pretty well twisted up:
"My God!... if you're right!"
The Second Mate spoke.
"The men mustn't know, Sir," he warned him. "It'd be a mess if they
did!"
"Yes," said the Old Man.
He spoke to me.
"Remember that, Jessop," he said. "Whatever you do, don't go yarning
about this, forrard."
"No, Sir," I replied.
"And you too, boy," said the Skipper. "Keep your tongue between your
teeth. We're in a bad enough mess, without your making it worse. Do you
hear?"
"Yes, Sir," answered Tammy.
The Old Man turned to me again.
"These things, or creatures that you say come out of the sea," he said.
"You've never seen them, except after nightfall?" he asked.
"No, Sir," I replied. "Never."
He turned to the Second Mate.
"So far as I can make out, Mr. Tulipson," he remarked, "the danger seems
to be only at night."
"It's always been at night, Sir," the Second answered.
The Old Man nodded.
"Have you anything to propose, Mr. Tulipson?" he asked.
"Well, Sir," replied the Second Mate. "I think you ought to have her
snugged down every night, before dark!"
He spoke with considerable emphasis. Then he glanced aloft, and jerked
his head in the direction of the unfurled t'gallants.
"It's a damned good thing, Sir," he said, "that it didn't come on to
blow any harder."
The Old Man nodded again.
"Yes," he remarked. "We shall have to do it; but God knows when we'll
get home!"
"Better late than not at all," I heard the Second mutter, under his
breath.
Out loud, he said:
"And the lights, Sir?"
"Yes," said the Old Man. "I will have lamps in the rigging every night,
after dark."
"Very good, Sir," assented the Second. Then he turned to us.
"It's getting daylight, Jessop," he remarked, with a glance at the sky.
"You'd better take Tammy with you, and shove those lamps back again into
the locker."
"i, i, Sir," I said, and went down off the poop with Tammy.
XIII
_The Shadow in the Sea_
When eight bells went, at four o'clock, and the other watch came on deck
to relieve us, it had been broad daylight for some time. Before we went
below, the Second Mate had the three t'gallants set; and now that it was
light, we were pretty curious to have a look aloft, especially up the
fore; and Tom, who had been up to overhaul the gear, was questioned a
lot, when he came down, as to whether there were any signs of anything
queer up there. But he told us there was nothing unusual to be seen.
At eight o'clock, when we came on deck for the eight to twelve watch, I
saw the Sailmaker coming forrard along the deck, from the Second Mate's
old berth. He had his rule in his hand, and I knew he had been measuring
the poor beggars in there, for their burial outfit. From breakfast time
until near noon, he worked, shaping out three canvas wrappers from some
old sailcloth. Then, with the aid of the Second Mate and one of the
hands, he brought out the three dead chaps on to the after hatch, and
there sewed them up, with a few lumps of holy stone at their feet. He
was just finishing when eight bells went, and I heard the Old Man tell
the Second Mate to call all hands aft for the burial. This was done, and
one of the gangways unshipped.
We had no decent grating big enough, so they had to get off one of the
hatches, and use it instead. The wind had died away during the morning,
and the sea was almost a calm--the ship lifting ever so slightly to an
occasional glassy heave. The only sounds that struck on the ear were the
soft, slow rustle and occasional shiver of the sails, and the continuous
and monotonous creak, creak of the spars and gear at the gentle
movements of the vessel. And it was in this solemn half-quietness that
the Skipper read the burial service.
They had put the Dutchman first upon the hatch (I could tell him by his
stumpiness), and when at last the Old Man gave the signal, the Second
Mate tilted his end, and he slid off, and down into the dark.
"Poor old Dutchie," I heard one of the men say, and I fancy we all felt
a bit like that.
Then they lifted Jacobs on to the hatch, and when he had gone, Jock.
When Jock was lifted, a sort of sudden shiver ran through the crowd. He
had been a favourite in a quiet way, and I know I felt, all at once,
just a bit queer. I was standing by the rail, upon the after bollard,
and Tammy was next to me; while Plummer stood a little behind. As the
Second Mate tilted the hatch for the last time, a little, hoarse chorus
broke from the men: