STORY ONE, CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.
A PUZZLING CASE.
It was about an hour later that the doctor went below to his otherpatient, to find him lying perfectly still and hardly breathing, sosoftly his pulsation seemed to rise and fall, while, faithful to hispost, Rasp was by his side.
Laure was evidently sleeping, and, after a brief examination, Mr Meldonturned thoughtfully away, for there were peculiarities in the case whichhe could not fathom.
As he reached the deck, he was touched on the shoulder, and, turningsharply, he found Rasp behind him.
"Is he going to die to-night, doctor, like t'other poor chap?"
"I can't say, Rasp," was the reply. "His case puzzles me. To-night hesleeps so easily that he seems to me better, and as if he were rallyingfast."
"Oh no, he ain't," said Rasp, shaking his head oracularly; "that's theartfulness of his nature. He's a-dying sharp."
"How do you know?"
"'Cause I heerd him a muttering to hisself when he thought as I warn'tlistening, and then he got talking to hisself in his foreign lingo; andwhen I came into sight again he began picking at his blanket."
"May be," said Mr Meldon, "but all the same, he is certainly better."
"Yah! stuff!" ejaculated Rasp, as he descended to the cabin. "He'sdying fast, and it's going to be to-night. I can feel it as plain ascan be, poor chap. But he's an out and out bad 'un, and only got whathe deserves."
Rasp took several pinches of snuff in succession.
"How rum this snuff is to-night," he muttered, as he settled himself onthe locker opposite where Laure lay, and then proceeded to watch thenight through, after refusing the help of Oakum and 'Pollo, both of whomhad offered to relieve him, and in the course of half-an-hour he wassleeping heavily.
And so a couple of hours glided away; when, just as all was perfectlysilent on board the schooner, and all save the watch on deck sleptsoundly, Laure, the Cuban, rose from his simulated sleep, and after aglance at Rasp stole to the locker in which lay his clothes, slippedthem on silently, and then made softly for the deck.
It was no tottering walk of a feeble man, but the quick, soft cat-liketread of some one full of life and energy, and bent upon some setdesign. And so it was; for the time for the execution of the fellpurpose upon which his mind had been fixed ever since he had lain there,feeble at first from the shock, but daily growing stronger andmeditating revenge, had arrived.
He was too well acquainted with the routine of the schooner not to befully aware of what he could do, and while the man bent drowsily overthe wheel, and Oakum and another were on the look-out in the bows, hetook the falls in his hands, and cleverly let the boat on the davitsglide down and kiss the softly heaving wave almost without a sound, butnot until he had secured the painter to one of the pins, after which heslid down the falls with the activity of a boy, unhooked the boat, andclimbed back on deck.
Next he paused to listen for a few moments in the darkness, and thenwith cat-like step descended into the portion of the vessel which hadbeen set apart for the store connected with the diving apparatus.
It was evident that he had often been here before, as he seemed to knowwhere everything was kept; and after lifting down the large jar of thegalvanic battery, which, from the care with which he took it wasevidently half-full of acid, he bore it to the steps, and then placinghis hand on a particular shelf he took down a canister of dynamitecartridges and placed it against the bulkhead.
This done he felt along the shelf to where, days before, he had placed alarge reel of thin silk-covered wire, and tying it to the loop of metalin one of the cartridges, he backed slowly out of the cabin, unwindingthe wire as he went till he reached the deck, where he continued his wayto the side, and lowered the reel into the boat.
The next thing was the awkward jar of the battery; but his plans had allbeen made, and with a piece of cord he lowered it down carefully,raising it again and again until he felt that it rested safely in thebottom of the boat.
Water was already there, and provisions that he had been storing up fordays; and now the first sound that had left his lips escaped in the formof a low demoniacal chuckle as, lightly raising himself upon thebulwark, he sat there for a moment, and he shook his fist in thedirection of the cabin.
"Curse you!" he muttered. "You thought to outwit me, but you did notknow your enemy. Sink! perish with the silver that carries you down,for revenge is sweet even at such a cost."
He swung himself down by the ropes hanging from one of the davits, andthere felt that he had outwitted himself for the boat was not beneathhis feet, and he was getting nearly exhausted by his efforts.
"I shall have to let go," he muttered; "and in the darkness I shallnever reach the boat again."
He swung himself to and fro, and struggled hard to reach the boat, butthough he nearly touched it each time, he was never near enough to trusthimself to lose his hold, and with the perspiration running down hisface, and his hair bristling with horror, he began to thoroughly realisethat his long rest in bed had weakened him terribly. The thought washorrible now that he had been brought face to face with it--that he whohad been so careful in laying his plans for the destruction of othershad been caught in his own trap, and was himself called upon to die.The idea was terrible. He was not fit to die. When roused by hispassions to fight desperately, he could, perhaps, have faced death witha certain amount of manly composure, but now swinging at the end of thisrope, to hold on till he could cling no longer, and then plunge suddenlyinto the sea to feel the black rushing and thundering waters close overhis head--it was too horrible to be borne.
He made a desperate struggle to get his legs up, and cling with them tothe rope, but his strength was gone, and he only weakened himself, andhanging now at the full stretch of his arms, feeling, as the sinews ofhis wrists seemed ready to crack, that any moment he must leave go, he--
The thought was too horrible. He could not face death; sooner must heshriek for help and forego his revenge--anything to be saved.
His lips parted, and he tried to yell loudly, but a harsh gurgle was allthat came now from his dry throat. He tried again and again, but horrorhad paralysed him, and he could do nothing but pant hoarsely like one ina nightmare, and believe that, after all, this was but some fearfuldream from which he would awaken, as he often had before, bathed withperspiration, and shivering with dread.
At last he tried to close his starting eyes, and hide from his distortedvision the horrible resemblance of the davit above him to the gallows,as he swung to and fro by the rope. But even this relief was deniedhim, for it seemed as if the whole muscular strength of his body wascondensed in his arms, by which he clung to the fall, and power had lefthim to perform any other act than that of clinging for life. The deadlysense of terror increased, and with men at either end of the vesselready to come to his help--men who, by the slightest effort of will,could have saved him--he felt he must die. He would have called them tohis help now regardless of the exposure of his plans, but it was toolate: he could do no more than hold on, and wait till he fell.
No torture could possibly have been greater than that felt by thiswretch as he softly swung to and fro within a few inches of the safetyhe had provided, and yet unable to reach it. A thousand thoughts rushedthrough his brain, but they were mostly regrets that he had been unableto compass his revenge; that he had neglected his opportunities when hemight have made himself the master of Hester, seeing how thoroughly hehad her in his power, and his bared teeth glistened in the darkness as awave curled and, splashing against the side of the schooner, sent fortha phosphorescent flash.
And now he told himself that it was all over; he must die unrevenged,unable to make a single struggle, for the last moments had come, hismuscles were relaxing, the sense of terror was growing more dull, and hemust fall. His eyes were staring straight up at the davit, now blackabove his head, just faintly seen through the darkness, and it seemedmore than ever the instrument of his death as the slipping rope for amome
nt scorched his hands, his eyes convulsively closed as the strain onthe muscles of his arms ceased, and he fell.
But not to plunge into the black waters beneath him, and only a few feetfrom where he had hung, for the wave that curled against the side, andwith its phosphorescent glare shewn his distorted features, swept theboat beneath his feet, and he sank all of a heap in the bows, to liethere motionless as the boat rose and fell. For he was utterlyprostrate, and it was some minutes before he could realise that he wasstill alive.
When, however, by slow degrees the feeling came upon him that he wassafe, no thanks rose to his cracked, dry lips, but a smile of malignantsatisfaction, for revenge was still open to him, and as soon as he couldrecover himself somewhat, he might put his plan into execution.
For fully half-an-hour Laure lay there crouching in the bows of the boatwaiting for the strength that would enable him to achieve his nefariousends, while the watch hung drowsily over the bulwarks, and those belowslept peacefully, in ignorance of the horrible fate that was in store.
At last, like some deadly monster uncoiling its folds, the Cuban beganto move, and his first attempt was to reach a bottle of spirits, fromwhose gurgling throat he drank with avidity, the potent fluid giving himthe restoration he sought. Then as the blood began to tingle in hisveins, he sat up, looked round, and gently chafed his benumbed arms.
A slight motion in the fore part of the ship roused him to the necessityfor immediate action, and now with eager haste he cautiously felt about,and placed the galvanic battery in a convenient spot, took hold of thereel of fine silk-covered wire, arranged it so that it was notentangled, and then, having assured himself that all was right, he tookout his knife and cut the boat's painter, floating now gently away inthe wake of the schooner, while as he did so he let the wire run rapidlyout so that a connection was kept up.
There must have been at least a hundred yards of wire, and the schoonerglided away so gently that there was never any stress on the frail metalcord, till the last rings ran off the reel, when Laure, with a cry ofexultation, checked the progress softly and felt for the wire's end.
The schooner could hardly be distinguished now, and there was not amoment to lose, for if the wire were tightened till it dragged on theboat it must part, so with trembling eagerness the Cuban twisted theslight metal strand twice round his left hand, while with his right heplaced the end against the brass connection of the plates in thebattery.
The work was instantaneous.
As he touched the connection with the tiny point of copper there was ahissing noise in the jar, a little point of light darted at the end ofthe wire, and simultaneously a hundred yards away in the darkness therewas a tremendous flash, the darkness was illuminated by a fountain ofsparks, which rose high in air, driven by a fan-like wave of flame; thefire curved over, and the sparks fell hissing into the sea.
As the flame rose, spreading wider and wider, there was a roar as ofthunder, a rush as of the wind in a tempest struck Laure, the boatrocked to and fro, shipping no small amount of water, and the wiretwisted round the Cuban's hand cut and bit into the flesh ere it snappedshort off.
But he did not feel the pain, and saw not the danger to which he wasexposed as he gazed straight beyond him at the doomed ship, and exultedin the wild shriek of horror that he had heard as the noise of theexplosion died away.
He heard no more, for an awful silence fell upon the ocean, now blackerthan ever, and rising up in the boat he held out one hand, shaking hisfist in the direction where a faint glow told him of burning fragmentsof the wreck, and then with a shriek of exultation he cried--
"Sink, sink, with your accursed freight. Who wins now?"
He tottered as he spoke, and though straining his voice to hurl out hiscurse at the schooner and those on board, it was but a feeble cry, andhe fell back senseless over the thwarts to lie in the bottom of theboat, with the water that had been shipped washing over him.