CHAPTER XVI.
THE GREEN LIGHT UPON THE SEA.
Jacob was on his feet in a moment. His eyes were dazed by a strangepale-green light that shone luminous over the boat's larboard bow. Thesea was calm, with only a gentle swell rolling from the east; the skywas black and starless, and all was dark around saving only in the onedirection where shone the ghostly green light, that reared itself like acloud of radiant mist out of the sea, only a few yards from where hestood.
Even as he gazed upon it, bewildered and speechless, the light seemed toapproach, or else it was the boat that sailed into the luminance. Itshed its ghastly green glare upon everything, making all on board asplain as though the craft were bathed in soft moonlight. All was asgreen as grass. Webbe, Timothy, and Gilbert stood staring about themlike phantoms, silently glancing at one another with the emotions of menwho had been suddenly hurried into another world. Their faces, theirclothing, even their hair was green, and it seemed that the mysteriouslight had deprived them of speech, for none spoke.
Timothy Trollope, who had been at the helm, had suddenly ceased to payany regard to the steering, and now the boat's sail swayed idly to andfro, empty of wind. Gilbert Oglander, regaining his sober senses, lookedover the side to search for the origin of the strange radiance. Butthere was no flame to the light, which seemed to be a mere transparentshaft of air, as unsubstantial as a rainbow. And when he turned to seeif Jacob Hartop were yet awake, and found the old man at his side, heimplored an explanation of the mystery.
"What means it, Master Hartop?" he asked in an awe-stricken voice. "Hastseen its like ever before?"
But the old buccaneer made no answer. Clambering over the coaming of thewell, he crept on hands and knees towards the bow near where Gilbertstood. He peered out into the light, gripping the gunwale with tremblinghands. He remained thus for many moments. Then suddenly he drew back,flung his left arm round Gilbert's legs, and with a wild, frantic cryupon his lips pointed out with his skinny right hand into the midst ofthe green light.
"See! see!" he cried. "It is a ship!"
Gilbert's eyes followed the direction in which the old man pointed, andpresently he discovered, at the farther fringe of the light, thetowering form of a vessel's hull. He could clearly see her sternport-holes, with the gallery above them, and above the gallery theprojecting rail of her poop-deck. Her counter was richly carved withmany strange devices, and the carvings were covered with tarnished gold.Her stout masts rose high above her, and her ragged sails were ampleevidence that it was long since the ship had known their use.
"Can you not see her?" continued Hartop. "Od's life, boy! Look where Ipoint."
"I see her, Master Hartop," returned Gilbert; "I see her. 'Tis agalleon, and a Spaniard by her build."
"Ay, faith, a galleon indeed," nodded Hartop; "and a galleon upon whichmine eyes now look not for the first time, if she be not a ghost!" Herose to his feet, still keeping his arm about Gilbert, and added in astrange, dry voice that was scarcely more than a breath: "'Tis a ghost,Master Oglander, 'tis a ghost that you look upon--the ghost of theGolden Galleon!"
And so saying, he turned from the sight and sank upon the narrow deck,covering his face with his hands.
By this time Timothy Trollope also had seen the galleon. Clasping thetiller, he held it over. But it had no effect, for the pinnace had noway upon her; the wind had fallen to an absolute calm, and the sailhung loose and motionless against the mast.
"Out with the sweeps!" cried Edward Webbe, and Timothy, leaving hispost, took up one of the long oars, while Gilbert Oglander took theother, and together they pulled and pulled, striving to bring the boatround and so escape from the grim phantom galleon. But with the firststroke they made their oar-blades caught in a mesh of sea-weeds. Thedisturbed water flashed with phosphorescent fire, and when the oars werewith difficulty dragged up they rose dripping with a shower of sparksand heavy with clinging weeds. Again the oars were dipped, and againthey were weighted with the tangled growth of weeds.
"'Tis of no avail, Tim," declared Gilbert as he drew in his oar. Heleaned over the boat's side and looked down into the calm, shadowywater, where fitful tracks of shining white light showed the movementsof coiling writhing monsters of the deep.
"Nay, pull at your oars!" cried Jacob Hartop, rising now from the deckand slipping down into the well. "Let us not be carried nearer to thathorrid ship! Dip not your blades so deep, but pull her round that we mayget beyond this phantom light. Here, Ned," he added to Webbe, "take thoua hand of Timothy's oar, while I give a help to Gilbert. 'Twill go illif four of us cannot move her. Robin, my lad, get thee to the tiller andsteer us back into the darkness."
He looked aft to where Robin stood and saw the lad obediently approachthe tiller, while he himself pulled at Gilbert's oar. The boat began tomove, but scarcely had a second stroke of the oars been made when afrantic scream came from Robin Redfern, and the lad, starting forward,plunged himself headlong into the midst of his companions.
"In heaven's name, what hath bewitched the lad?" cried Hartop. Heabandoned the oar and bent down to pick Robin up, and felt him tremblingin every limb. The boy was comforted by the touch of human hands, but hepositively refused to return to the helm.
"I cannot, I cannot!" he cried.
"Take you the oar, then, Robin," said Timothy, "while I go."
But Timothy, bold though he was, came back even more quickly than Robinhad done, with his face transfixed with terror.
"Look! look!" he stammered, pointing with fearful eagerness to theboat's stern.
All turned their gaze towards the tiller, and saw something which mightwell fill them with dread. A long flesh-like arm, half-pink half-green,was gliding slowly over the gunwale, with the movements of a hugecaterpillar. Its farther end was not visible at first, but GilbertOglander, glancing over into the water, traced the thing for many yardsto where it was rooted in a great green shining body midway betweenthe boat and the galleon. The body was furnished with two greatglaring eyes as large as plates. From near the eyes some eight or nineother arms or tentacles were stretched forth, some lying inactive on thewater's surface, others poised in the green air, with rows of immensesucking discs on their under side; and two of them had climbed up thegalleon's hull and were entwined about her like a pair of giantserpents. All this Gilbert perceived in a momentary glance. But he toldnaught of the matter to his mates. Going down on his hands and knees inthe boat's well he crept to one of the little lockers that were underthe side-seats. He pulled open the door, thrust in his arm end broughtout two swords, and flung one of them to Timothy.
"FOR THE LOVE OF HEAVEN CUT THE THING IN TWAIN!"]
"Here, Tim, quick!" he cried. "For the love of heaven cut the thing intwain!"
Then again thrusting his arm into the locker he brought out an axe,which he gripped in his hand. Springing aft to the stern, he then beganto hew at the monstrous arm at the part which was lying across thegunwale. Timothy got to the other side, and in like manner struck withall his might at the creature. Stroke after stroke of sword and axe fellupon the writhing thing.
Suddenly the boat swayed over, the sail drew wind, and as suddenly themysterious green light flickered, faded, flickered again, and then fadedinto utter darkness. There was a faint splash under the stern.
"'Tis done!" shouted Timothy, stamping his heel on the severed portionof the monster's arm as it lay across the deck. "Give us a hand here,Master Webbe, and help us to heave this thing overboard. Touch it notbut with your boot, lest it sting you with its poison. Now, alltogether!"
"Down with the helm!" cried Hartop, himself springing to the tiller. Andthen, as the remnant of the animal's tentacle was plunged into the sea,the pinnace moved slowly onward over the darkened waters, and the littlecrew breathed in thankful freedom. Yet a strange superstitious terrorhad seized upon them, and for a long time no word was spoken and nosound heard but the creaking of the ropes, the light bubbling of thewater at the bow, and the intermittent
sobbing of young Robin Redfern.They yearned for the coming of daylight, and dreaded every moment thatthe eerie green light might again surround them. Again and again JacobHartop as he sat at the tiller glanced furtively behind him, as if toassure himself that he was not being pursued by what he firmly believedto be the phantom of his lost ship. Timothy Trollope, too, whose simpleand untutored mind had yielded to the same superstitious fear that wasoppressing the skipper, stood up time after time and, rubbing his eyes,glanced backward across the sea. Gilbert Oglander had but an uneasysleep, while Webbe, who sat with his legs outstretched before him andhis back firmly planted against the boat's side-planks, refused to closehis eyes. The only one who slept peacefully was Robin, who hadliterally cried himself to sleep.
At last, in the eastern sky there appeared the faint gray gleam ofcoming dawn. The welcome light crept over sky and sea. The men could nowsee each other's pale and troubled faces, and then, for the first timesince the mysterious green radiance had vanished, Jacob Hartop spoke.
"It hath been a most merciful escape," said he, "a most mercifuldeliverance. The Lord be thanked!"
"Ay, the Lord be thanked!" murmured Edward Webbe.
The two old men had been feasting their eyes on the dawn-light over inthe east. But Gilbert Oglander, who now rose to his feet and faced thewestward, gave a slight start and quietly placed his hand on Hartop'sshoulder.
"The galleon is still in sight, Master Hartop," said he.
"Ay," echoed Timothy Trollope, "she is still in sight."
Slowly and deliberately Jacob turned his head. His hand lost its hold ofthe tiller. Slowly he looked back again at his companions.
"What means it?" he muttered hoarsely through his dry, parched lips. Hisface was ashen gray and woefully haggard. He seemed to have aged a scoreof years since the last evening. "What means it?" he repeated dryly.
"It seemeth to me," said Gilbert, "that your golden galleon is no ghostafter all, but a veritable floating ship."
"Said you not that she was loaded with Spanish treasure, Master Hartop?"questioned Timothy.
Jacob nodded.
"As full laden as ever ship could be," he answered.
"And wilt thou leave her there, where she is, to drift at random on thewide sea, to rot upon the water, and to go down at last to bestow hertreasure upon the mermaids? I pray thee, let us go back to her, that wemay bring away with us some of the gold whereof thou hast spoken."
"What!" cried Hartop, fixing his glassy eyes in astonishment upon thebold lad.
"'Tis daylight now," pursued Tim. "Mark how the coming sunlight spreadsacross the sky. Mark how its bright reflection gleams upon yourgalleon's golden hull. Why need we fear to approach her, ay, or even toboard her, in the broad light of day?"
Hartop shook his head in grave rebuke.
"Thou'rt over bold, Master Timothy," said he. "The ship were a wealthyprize, I will allow. But I would have thee know that 'twas not toransack drifting derelicts that we came out upon this voyage, but inquest of King Philip's plate fleet. Having failed to discover the fleetin our allotted time, we shall now return to Queen Elizabeth's ships atFlores and inform Her Majesty's admiral of the result of our quest. Asfor the golden galleon, let her rot, let her sink, say I. Let hertreasures go down to the mermaids' halls, that the precious gems maybedeck the mermaids' necks withal. It will not be the first ship-load ofSpanish doubloons that hath gone unto the depths for the children of theocean to play with. And I say to you, were the galleon thrice her size,with thrice her present wealth aboard of her, I would not turn back afathom's distance with the thought of entering her. And now," he added,"I pray you, just hitch me up another inch or two of the peak halliardthere, while Gilbert doth set about preparing our breakfast."
And so they sailed back to Flores.