CHAPTER SEVEN.
A TERRIBLE TASK.
Hunger at first--a sharp, grinding sensation of hunger attacked MarkVandean; but as the sun rose higher this was forgotten in the intensethirst. For the heat rapidly grew scorching, and then, as Mark thought,burning, and saving the flag in the stern-sheets there was not a scrapof anything that could be used for an awning.
Every eye was strained westward in search of the returning _Nautilus_,but in the clear morning light there was no sign of her; and as the sunrose higher, the distance became obscured by a hot haze, which grew moredense as the hours went on, till it was impossible to see a mile in anydirection, while this thickening of the atmosphere had the effect ofheightening the power of the rays of the sun.
"We shall never be able to see the ship, Mr Russell," said Mark towardsmid-day, as they lay there parched beyond endurance, rising slowly andfalling upon the smooth Atlantic swell. "Do you think they will fireagain?"
"Sure to, my lad," was the reply. "There, I'm glad you have spoken.This silence was getting unbearable."
"I couldn't talk before," replied Mark; "it all seemed to be so horriblelying here in this scorching heat, and I was so thirsty and faint I feltas if I couldn't keep up."
"We all felt the same, my lad, but we must bear it till help comes.There, you are my lieutenant now, and we must have a consultation as towhat is best to be done."
For they had lain there all the fore part of the day watching the westfor the return of their vessel. It was madness to order the men to goon rowing, weary and suffering as they were under that burning sun,farther away into the vast ocean in search of the _Nautilus_; and on theother hand, Lieutenant Russell was unwilling to give up the chance ofbeing picked up by turning their backs on help and making for the coast.
But now the time had come for action. The men sat about in the boatlooking wild-eyed with thirst and heat, and the chances of being seen bythe returning ship were now growing small on account of the haze. Sofeeling that Captain Maitland would give him the credit of making forPort Goldby or one of the factories on the coast, Lieutenant Russellannounced his determination of making for the east.
"But will the men be able to row as far?" said Mark.
"They must be able, with our help, Vandean. To be plain, my lad, it isour only chance."
"But through this heat?"
"They will suffer less rowing than sitting still;" and giving hisorders, the men, accustomed to move smartly at the slightest word,sprang into their places, but directly after there was a low whisperingand muttering among them, and they appeared to be making a communicationto Dance the coxswain.
"What's the matter, my lads?" cried the lieutenant sharply; and heforgot his own sufferings now that there was a sudden call made upon hisenergy.
"Tell the lufftenant, Joe Dance," said Fillot, who was nearest to wherehis officers sat, but who preferred to pass task on to the coxswain, whowas farthest off.
"Why couldn't yer tell him yersen?" growled the coxswain.
"Speak out, Dance. No nonsense, my lad. We are in difficulties, and wehave to behave like British seamen till we get out of them."
The coxswain took off his well-dried straw hat and saluted. Thencoughed, hesitated, and at last blurted out--"Well, sir, you see it'slike this. The lads says they're willing enough, and they'll pull tillthey drop, but they want to know if you don't think it's time somethingwas done about him as we come to pick up."
"Leave that to me, my lads," said the lieutenant, gravely. "I shall domy duty by you all, so please to do yours by me. Wait till nightfalland see."
"Ay, ay, sir," came huskily, the oars dropped into the water, and toMark there was quite a feeling of relief in the motion of the boat, andalso in the knowledge that they were moving--slowly enough, but surely--toward help. Whether they would live to reach that aid was anotherthing.
"Shall we take an oar each, Mr Russell?" said Mark after a time, duringwhich he had sat watching the dispirited, weary looks of the men as theydragged more and more slowly at their rowing.
"No, my lad; we can do nothing in this heat. The poor fellows can dovery little good themselves; I am only letting them pull because itkeeps them from sinking into a state of despair. They can leave offwhen they like, and row when they like."
The men heard his words and ceased pulling for a few minutes to gazeblankly round in search of help, but the shining, sunny haze shut themin, and Tom Fillot settled himself in his seat again.
"Better pull, mates," he said, in a harsh, strange voice; "the orficer'sright. We're worse off doing nothing." The oars dipped again, and theboat went on slowly eastward toward the distant coast, as the terriblesense of depression and exhaustion increased with Mark, mingled with astrange desire to scoop up some of the clear, glittering, tantalisingwater, and drink what he knew would be so horribly salt and bitter thathis sufferings would be increased.
Now and then a curious sensation of vertigo attacked him, which seemedas if by some means the shining haze had floated right into his brain,dimming his eyesight so that for a time he could not see. Then itlightened up, and he could see ships, and clear bubbling waters, andgreen trees.
Then there were low, harsh voices speaking, and he was back again,wondering at the curious day-dream he had had, and listening to someremark made by Lieutenant Russell, who, in spite of his own sufferings,strove hard to cheer his companions in the boat.
Now and then a man would start out of a half-drowsy state, and hold uphis hand. Dance the coxswain was the first affected in that way, butafter a few moments Mark felt that the poor fellow had been suffering ina similar way to himself.
For the man suddenly exclaimed--"There! Did you hear that? A gun,lads. The _Naughtylass_ is coming down on us with every stitch o'canvas on her."
Three of the men ceased rowing, and gazed through the haze in fullbelief that their messmate had heard a signal shot fired, for the man'sattitude and tone were so convincing that there could be no doubt.
But there was no sound to break the utter silence till Tom Fillotgrowled forth--
"Lie down and go to sleep, Joe Dance. You're only teasing us, andmaking wuss of it."
"I tell you I heerd a gun," cried the coxswain.
"Ay, in your head, mate. I've been hearing the skipper giving it to MrRussell here for keeping the cutter out all night, but it don't meannothing, only sort o' dreams. How could the _Naughtylass_ sail to uswithout a breath o' wind?"
Dance stared at him wildly, and his face grew convulsed with anger, butthe 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 thatburning sun, which affected man after man with this curious delirium,the last touched being Mr Russell, who suddenly started up in the boatjust about the hottest part of the afternoon; and, his mind stillimpressed by the coxswain's words, he exclaimed in a peculiarly angryvoice, as he stared straight before him--"I refuse to take the blame,Captain Maitland. I did my duty by you and toward the brave, patientfellows under my charge. If there is any one to blame it is yourselffor leaving us behind. Quite right, Vandean. Now, my lad, for a gooddrink. The water's deliciously cool and sweet, and what a beautifulriver. Ahoy! What ship'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 layback, and Mark took his kerchief from his neck, soaked it in thesea-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 forhelp.
"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 andworse. Better wait for sundown. When the cool time comes he may workround."
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br /> The man ceased speaking, and his companions laid in their oars beforesinking down in the bottom of the boat and resting their heavy headsagainst the sides.
As for Mark, the rest of that afternoon passed as if he were in somefevered dream, during which he was back home at the Devon rectory,telling his father and mother of his adventures with the slaver. Thenhe was bathing in a beautiful river, whose water suddenly grew painfullyhot and scalded him. After that there was a long blank time, andimagination grew busy again, his brain dwelling upon the chase of theslaver, and he saw through his glass the splash in the moonlit water, asone of the poor wretches was thrown overboard to stay the progress ofthe _Nautilus_.
Soon after some one touched him, and he started up to find that all wasdark, and that the edge of a dense cloud was silvered by the moon, whilea 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 inhis sleep, and t'others have got it bad. You and me's the only two ashave 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 incommand, and have got to tell me what to do."
"What can I tell you to do?" cried Mark, in desperation. "You can't rowthe boat back to the coast alone."
"That's true enough, sir, but there's one thing you ought to order me todo at once."
"Yes; what?"
The sailor pointed to the flag spread out behind where the midshipmansat; and Mark shuddered as he grasped his meaning.
"Do you think I ought to, Tom?" whispered the lad at last, inawe-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 nowit don't seem as we can save ourselves. 'Tall events, we can do no goodto him, and I think the skipper--beg pardon, sir, no offence meant, thecaptain--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 withreason, but his head throbbed and burned, and all kinds of thoughts ofother things kept on coming to confuse him and stop the regular flow ofhis thought, till it was as if he could think of everything else but thesubject of such great importance to those on board.
At last, though, he leaned over the side, and bathed his throbbingtemples with the comparatively cool water, when, by slow degrees, thebeating 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 toodreadful."
"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, andserious he, the wag of the ship, 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 fargone 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 andagain to give him his advice what to do, but elicited nothing but apeevish 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 dothis without some one to share the responsibility."
"Try him, sir; but he's quite off his head, and if he says do, hisadvice ain't worth having, for he'll never know he said it."
All the same, in his terrible perplexity, Mark crawled over the thwartsand between the men to where the coxswain lay muttering incessantlyright forward, with his head resting against the pole of his hitcher;but in spite of appeal after appeal the man lay with his eyes fixed,quite insensible to every word addressed to him, and the midshipmancrept back to where Tom Fillot sat.
"I'm nobody, sir, only a common man afore the mast, so it's likeimpidence for me to offer to share the responsibility with a young gentlike you. But being half as old again, I may say I know a little ofwhat a man ought to do in a case like this; and I say that as you're nowin command, sir, it's your duty to us, as well as to the dead."
"No, no," groaned Mark. "We may be overtaken by the ship at any time."
"Look here; it's of no use for you to shrink from it. Recollect wherewe 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 anignorant man, but I've heerd say that you were a parson's son, sir, andknow 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 topierce the gloom in search of help out of his difficulty; but the moonwas hidden by a black cloud, and look which way he would there wasnaught but the thick darkness hemming him in. With a piteous sigh heturned back to where the sailor sat waiting, made a sign, and then sankupon his knees in the bottom of the boat, feeling for the first fewmoments utterly alone.
The next minute the feeling of loneliness had passed away, and firm andstrong at heart, he raised his head, and made a fresh sign to hiscompanion, who had followed his example, and who now rose and steppedover to the very stern of the boat, to stand with his back to his youngofficer. Then as he bent down it seemed to Mark as if the darkness hadgrown more profound, till there was a faint rustling noise, and a softplunge in the black water, followed by a faint rippling whisper againstthe sides. Directly after the moon appeared from behind the thick massof clouds and shed a path of silver over the sea, till it flooded thepart where the cutter lay; and as Mark Vandean knelt there, he saw TomFillot standing before him with the Union Jack in his hand.