Chapter 51 - Ran Away to Sea by Mayne Reid
The astounding intelligence, conveyed by the final sentence of this staggering speech, deprived me for the moment of the power of motion.
“A barrel of powder aboard!” These were his very words, and I had no reason to doubt that they were true. On the contrary, his behaviour, and that of those who were with him, went far to prove their truth. On no other supposition could I account for their haste to be gone; but the hypothesis of the powder at once explained it. Beyond a doubt the speech was true. There was a barrel of powder aboard! Both he and the mate were aware of it.
The dastards had made a sort of compromise with their consciences in now declaring it. They had preserved silence about it until they were themselves safe. If they had divulged the secret sooner, the whole crew might have followed them into the gig—dreading to stay any longer on board—and, therefore, they might not have got off so snugly. Now, however, that they were themselves beyond danger, there could be no harm in letting the others know it, as it might quicken their efforts at escape. Of course they did not desire to see their old associates blown into the air—if it could be helped without any risk to themselves—but they had taken good care to remove the risk, before offering any hint about the probable catastrophe.
The skipper, as soon as he had given utterance to the appalling speech, sank back upon his seat; and, pulling along with the rest, the gig moved rapidly away.
I say that the astounding intelligence deprived me of the power of motion, and equally so of speech. It occurred to me to ask for an explanation—an additional averment as confirmation of its truth; but, before I could recover myself, it was too late—the boat was almost beyond hail. It would be no use shouting after. They would not hear, or, if they did, would not heed me; and what mattered it, for I could not doubt but what the man had said was meant as serious truth. Though not sober, he would hardly have jested then, and in such a fashion. The time and the circumstances were too solemn for jest—even for him, unfeeling fiend that he was.
No; he had spoken but the truth—the simple truth. Beyond all hope of a doubt there was a barrel of powder on board the Pandora!
Where was it? In the store-room, now filled with fire? where else was it likely to be? on the half-deck, or in the hold? No—not probable—none of us had ever seen it there. There had been no powder observed in any part of the vessel to which the common sailors had access; none since the cargo was delivered to King Dingo. It must then be in the store-room, or in the captain’s own state-room? in either case contiguous to the flames—in either case close to where I was standing!
The thought roused my senses from the state of stupefaction into which they had fallen. The idea of self-preservation gave me new energies; and I lost no time in hastening away from the spot. It was a mere instinct to place myself as far from the danger as I could. I sprang from the poop and ran forward upon the main-deck.
I was now at a loss as to how I should act. My first impulse had been to rush forward among the men and proclaim the intelligence communicated by the captain. I was on the point of doing so, when some good angel seemed to whisper “prudence.”
I was always considered a boy of “quick-parts,” and the life I had been lately leading had wonderfully sharpened my intellect. Just then it occurred to me, if I divulged the terrible secret it could do no good, but on the contrary, might beget great mischief. I saw that the sailors were exerting all their strength to get out the boat, and were making what haste they could. No power on earth could have caused them to go faster. The dread of the flames, now beginning to flow through the cabin-windows, was stimulus enough. Any additional dread would only paralyse them. I determined, therefore, to keep the fearful knowledge within my own breast. I thought of imparting it only to Ben, and for him I now went in search.
I soon discovered him. He was among a crowd up over the davits, working with all his might. I could not get near him, and of course could not communicate with him without being overheard by the others. I therefore resolved to remain sole possessor of the dread secret till a better opportunity offered itself.
I set to work with the rest, heaving and hauling; but, amidst all I had but one thought. I scarce knew what was going on, or what I was myself doing. I was every moment in expectation of that loud report—that horrible explosion that would fling us all into eternity! I worked mechanically and often wrong; once or twice I caught myself hauling the wrong way. Some of them noticed this and rudely kicked me aside. Oh! the keen apprehension!
The boat was at length cleared of the bulwarks and swung over the sea; and then the lowering commenced. This operation was not so difficult, and in a few minutes more she rested upon the water. The men gave a cheer at their success.
Many at once glided into the boat; while others remained above and on the sides, passing down some necessary articles—some bread and water—such things as could be most readily got at.
At this moment two men lifted between them a heavy barrel; and rolling it over the bulwarks, commenced lowering it downward. The size and shape of the barrel proclaimed its contents. It was a cask of rum, and its weight proved that it had never been broached, but was quite full of the potent spirit. No one objected to its being taken into the boat. There were no protesters in that crew, but several now offered to assist in lowering it down. A bight of rope was thrown around the cask, and the letting down commenced.
It had scarcely balanced over the copper sheathing of the bulwark, when the bight of rope—hurriedly cast around it—slipped off, and the heavy barrel fell with all its weight into the bottom of the boat. Not exactly into the bottom but upon one side—a little below the water-line, as the boat lay.
A heavy crash was heard—not the firm concussion of the barrel striking on the elastic timbers of the boat; but more as if something had broken underneath where it fell. The barrel had fallen angularly and endways; and the sharp projecting end of the oaken staves had struck between two of the ribs of the boat, and fair upon the face of her outside planking. As if the hand of a demon had guided it, the rum cast in its descent had fallen upon one of the decayed planks; and the crash that had been heard was the sound of the plank springing out of its bed and breaking crossways at the same time!
A wild cry rose from out the boat, as those who were below saw the catastrophe that had happened. It was visible even from the deck above; for looking over I perceived a thick gush of water pouring through the side of the boat.
Some of the men leaped out of her and came climbing up again; while others remained endeavouring to staunch the hole, and with buckets that were now thrown to them, commenced baling out.
They did not continue long at this. It was clearly a hopeless task; the huge breach could not be mended, and the boat filled ten times faster than they could bale her out. They soon abandoned the attempt; and, dropping the buckets, followed their companions up the side.
In less than ten minutes after, the long-boat had gone to the bottom of the sea.
“A raft! a raft!”