CHAPTER VIII. THE WRECK OF THE "HALFMOON"
INSTANTLY Barbara Harding looked into the face of the mucker she readher danger. Why the man should hate her so she could not guess; butthat he did was evidenced by the malevolent expression of his surlycountenance. For a moment he stood glaring at her, and then he spoke.
"I'm wise to wot youse an' dat guy was chinnin' about," he growled, "an'I'm right here to tell youse dat you don't wanta try an' put nothin'over on me, see? Youse ain't a-goin' to double-cross Billy Byrne. Igotta good notion to han' youse wot's comin' to you. If it hadn't beenfer youse I wouldn't have been here now on dis Gawd-forsaken wreck.Youse is de cause of all de trouble. Wot youse ought to get is croakedan' den dere wouldn't be nothin' to bother any of us. You an' yer bunchof kale, dey give me a swift pain. Fer half a cent I'd soak youse awallop to de solar plexus dat would put youse to sleep fer de longcount, you--you--" but here words failed Billy.
To his surprise the girl showed not the slightest indication of fear.Her head was high, and her level gaze never wavered from his own eyes.Presently a sneer of contempt curled her lip.
"You coward!" she said quietly. "To insult and threaten a woman! You arenothing but an insufferable bully, and a cowardly murderer. You murdereda man on the Lotus whose little finger held more true manhood, bravery,and worth than the whole of your great, hulking carcass. You are onlyfit to strike from behind, or when your victim is unsuspecting, as youdid Mr. Theriere that other day. Do you think I fear a THING such asyou--a beast without honor that kicks an unconscious man in the face?I know that you can kill me. I know that you are coward enough to do itbecause I am a defenseless woman; and though you may kill me, you nevercan make me show fear for you. That is what you wish to do--that is youridea of manliness. I had never imagined that such a thing as you livedin the guise of man; but I have read you, Mr. Byrne, since I have hadoccasion to notice you, and I know now that you are what is known in thegreat cities as a mucker. The term never meant much to me before, but Isee now that it fits your kind perfectly, for in it is all the loathingand contempt that a real man--a gentleman--must feel for such as you."
As she spoke Billy Byrne's eyes narrowed; but not with the cunning ofpremeditated attack. He was thinking. For the first time in his life hewas thinking of how he appeared in the eyes of another. Never had anyhuman being told Billy Byrne thus coolly and succinctly what sort ofperson he seemed to them. In the heat of anger men of his own stamp hadapplied vile epithets to him, describing him luridly as such that bythe simplest laws of nature he could not possibly be; but this girlhad spoken coolly, and her descriptions had been explicit--backed byillustrations. She had given real reasons for her contempt, and somehowit had made that contempt seem very tangible.
One who had known Billy would have expected him to fly into a rage andattack the girl brutally after her scathing diatribe. Billy did nothingof the sort. Barbara Harding's words seemed to have taken all the fightout of him. He stood looking at her for a moment--it was one of thestrange contradictions of Billy Byrne's personality that he couldhold his eyes quite steady and level, meeting the gaze of anotherunwaveringly--and in that moment something happened to Billy Byrne'sperceptive faculties. It was as though scales which had dimmed hismental vision had partially dropped away, for suddenly he saw what hehad not before seen--a very beautiful girl, brave and unflinching beforethe brutal menace of his attitude, and though the mucker thought thathe still hated her, the realization came to him that he must not raise ahand against her--that for the life of him he could not, nor ever againagainst any other woman. Why this change, Billy did not know, he simplyknew that it was so, and with an ugly grunt he turned his back upon herand walked away.
A slight breeze had risen from the southwest since Theriere had leftBarbara Harding and now all hands were busily engaged in completing thejury rigging that the Halfmoon might take advantage of the wind and makethe shore that rose abruptly from the bosom of the ocean but a leagueaway.
Before the work was completed the wind increased rapidly, so that whenthe tiny bit of canvas was hoisted into position it bellied bravely, andthe Halfmoon moved heavily forward toward the land.
"We gotta make a mighty quick run of it," said Skipper Simms to Ward,"or we'll go to pieces on them rocks afore ever we find a landing."
"That we will if this wind rises much more," replied Ward; "and's far asI can see there ain't no more chance to make a landing there than therewould be on the side of a house."
And indeed as the Halfmoon neared the towering cliffs it seemed utterlyhopeless that aught else than a fly could find a foothold upon thatsheer and rocky face that rose abruptly from the ocean's surface.
Some two hundred yards from the shore it became evident that there wasno landing to be made directly before them, and so the course of theship was altered to carry them along parallel to the shore in an effortto locate a cove, or beach where a landing might safely be effected.
The wind, increasing steadily, was now whipping the sea into angrybreakers that dashed resoundingly against the rocky barrier of theisland. To drift within reach of those frightful destroyers would meanthe instant annihilation of the Halfmoon and all her company, yet thiswas precisely what the almost unmanageable hulk was doing at the wheelunder the profane direction of Skipper Simms, while Ward and Therierewith a handful of men altered the meager sail from time to time in aneffort to keep the ship off the rocks for a few moments longer.
The Halfmoon was almost upon the cliff's base when a narrow openingshowed some hundred fathoms before her nose, an opening through whichthe sea ran in long, surging sweeps, rolling back upon itself in angrybreakers that filled the aperture with swirling water and high-flungspume. To have attempted to drive the ship into such a place would havebeen the height of madness under ordinary circumstances. No man knewwhat lay beyond, nor whether the opening carried sufficient water tofloat the Halfmoon, though the long, powerful sweep of the sea as itentered the opening denoted considerable depth.
Skipper Simms, seeing the grim rocks rising close beside his vessel,realized that naught could keep her from them now. He saw death peeringclose to his face. He felt the icy breath of the Grim Reaper upon hisbrow. A coward at heart, he lost every vestige of his nerve at thiscrucial moment of his life. Leaping from the wheelhouse to the deck heran backward and forward shrieking at the top of his lungs begging andentreating someone to save him, and offering fabulous rewards to the manwho carried him safely to the shore.
The sight of their captain in a blue funk had its effect upon themajority of the crew, so that in a moment a pack of screaming,terror-ridden men had supplanted the bravos and bullies of the Halfmoon.
From the cabin companionway Barbara Harding looked upon the disgustingscene. Her lip curled in scorn at the sight of these men weeping andmoaning in their fright. She saw Ward busy about one of the hatches. Itwas evident that he intended making a futile attempt to utilize it as ameans of escape after the Halfmoon struck, for he was attaching ropesto it and dragging it toward the port side of the ship, away from theshore. Larry Divine crouched beside the cabin and wept.
When Simms gave up the ship Barbara Harding saw the wheelmen, there hadbeen two of them, desert their post, and almost instantly the nose ofthe Halfmoon turned toward the rocks; but scarcely had the men reachedthe deck than Theriere leaped to their place at the wheel.
Unassisted he could do little with the heavy helm. Barbara saw thathe alone of all the officers and men of the brigantine was making anattempt to save the vessel. However futile the effort might be, it atleast bespoke the coolness and courage of the man. With the sight of himthere wrestling with death in a hopeless struggle a little wave of pridesurged through the girl. Here indeed was a man! And he loved her--thatshe knew. Whether or no she returned his love her place was beside himnow, to give what encouragement and physical aid lay in her power.
Quickly she ran to the wheelhouse. Theriere saw her and smiled.
"There's no hope, I'm afraid," he said; "but, by George, I i
ntend to godown fighting, and not like those miserable yellow curs."
Barbara did not reply, but she grasped the spokes of the heavy wheel andtugged as he tugged. Theriere made no effort to dissuade her from thestrenuous labor--every ounce of weight would help so much, and the manhad a wild, mad idea that he was attempting to put into effect.
"What do you hope to do?" asked the girl. "Make that opening in thecliffs?"
Theriere nodded.
"Do you think me crazy?" he asked.
"It is such a chance as only a brave man would dare to take," shereplied. "Do you think that we can get her to take it?"
"I doubt it," he answered. "With another man at the wheel we might,though."
Below them the crew of the Halfmoon ran hither and thither along thedeck on the side away from the breakers. They fought with one anotherfor useless bits of planking and cordage. The giant figure of the blackcook, Blanco, rose above the others. In his hand was a huge butcherknife. When he saw a piece of wood he coveted in the hands of another herushed upon his helpless victim with wild, bestial howls, menacing himwith his gleaming weapon. Thus he was rapidly accumulating the materialfor a life raft.
But there was a single figure upon the deck that did not seem mad withterror. A huge fellow he was who stood leaning against the capstanwatching the wild antics of his fellows with a certain wonderingexpression of incredulity, the while a contemptuous smile curled hislips. As Barbara Harding chanced to look in his direction he alsochanced to turn his eyes toward the wheelhouse. It was the mucker.
The girl was surprised that he, the greatest coward of them all, shouldbe showing no signs of cowardice now--probably he was paralyzed withfright. The moment that the man saw the two who were in the wheelhouseand the work that they were doing he sprang quickly toward them. At hisapproach the girl shrank closer to Theriere.
What new outrage did the fellow contemplate? Now he was beside her. Thehabitual dark scowl blackened his expression. He laid a heavy hand onBarbara Harding's arm.
"Come out o' dat," he bellowed. "Dat's no kind o' job fer a broiler."
And before either she or Theriere could guess his intention the muckerhad pushed Barbara aside and taken her place at the wheel.
"Good for you, Byrne!" cried Theriere. "I needed you badly."
"Why didn't yeh say so den?" growled the man.
With the aid of Byrne's Herculean muscles and great weight the bowof the Halfmoon commenced to come slowly around so that presently shealmost paralleled the cliffs again, but now she was much closer in thanwhen Skipper Simms had deserted her to her fate--so close that Therierehad little hope of being able to carry out his plan of taking heropposite the opening and then turning and running her before the windstraight into the swirling waters of the inlet.
Now they were almost opposite the aperture and between the giant cliffsthat rose on either side of the narrow entrance a sight was revealedthat filled their hearts with renewed hope and rejoicing, for a tinycove was seen to lie beyond the fissure--a cove with a long, wide, sandybeach up which the waves, broken at the entrance to the little haven,rolled with much diminished violence.
"Can you hold her alone for a second, Byrne?" asked Theriere. "Wemust make the turn in another moment and I've got to let out sail. Theinstant that you see me cut her loose put your helm hard to starboard.She'll come around easy enough I imagine, and then hold her nosestraight for that opening. It's one chance in a thousand; but it's theonly one. Are you game?"
"You know it, cul--go to 't," was Billy Byrne's laconic rejoinder.
As Theriere left the wheel Barbara Harding stepped to the mucker's side.
"Let me help you," she said. "We need every hand that we can get for thenext few moments."
"Beat it," growled the man. "I don't want no skirts in my way."
With a flush, the girl drew back, and then turning watched Therierewhere he stood ready to cut loose the sail at the proper instant. Thevessel was now opposite the cleft in the cliffs. Theriere had lasheda new sheet in position. Now he cut the old one. The sail swung arounduntil caught in position by the stout line. The mucker threw the helmhard to starboard. The nose of the brigantine swung quickly toward therocks. The sail filled, and an instant later the ship was dashing towhat seemed her inevitable doom.
Skipper Simms, seeing what Theriere had done after it was too late toprevent it, dashed madly across the deck toward his junior.
"You fool!" he shrieked. "You fool! What are you doing? Driving usstraight for the rocks--murdering the whole lot of us!" and with thathe sprang upon the Frenchman with maniacal fury, bearing him to the deckbeneath him.
Barbara Harding saw the attack of the fear-demented man, but she waspowerless to prevent it. The mucker saw it too, and grinned--he hopedthat it would be a good fight; there was nothing that he enjoyed more.He was sorry that he could not take a hand in it, but the wheel demandedall his attention now, so that he was even forced to take his eyes fromthe combatants that he might rivet them upon the narrow entrance to thecove toward which the Halfmoon was now plowing her way at constantlyincreasing speed.
The other members of the ship's company, all unmindful of the battlethat at another time would have commanded their undivided attention,stood with eyes glued upon the wild channel toward which thebrigantine's nose was pointed. They saw now what Skipper Simms hadfailed to see--the little cove beyond, and the chance for safety thatthe bold stroke offered if it proved successful.
With steady muscles and giant sinews the mucker stood by thewheel--nursing the erratic wreck as no one might have supposed it was inhim to do. Behind him Barbara Harding watched first Theriere and Simms,and then Byrne and the swirling waters toward which he was heading theship.
Even the strain of the moment did not prevent her from wondering atthe strange contradictions of the burly young ruffian who could at onemoment show such traits of cowardliness and the next rise so coolly tothe highest pinnacles of courage. As she watched him occasionally nowshe noted for the first time the leonine contour of his head, and shewas surprised to note that his features were regular and fine, andthen she recalled Billy Mallory and the cowardly kick that she had seendelivered in the face of the unconscious Theriere--with a little shudderof disgust she turned away from the man at the wheel.
Theriere by this time had managed to get on top of Skipper Simms, butthat worthy still clung to him with the desperation of a drowning man.The Halfmoon was rising on a great wave that would bear her well intothe maelstrom of the cove's entrance. The wind had increased to theproportions of a gale, so that the brigantine was fairly racing eitherto her doom or her salvation--who could tell which?
Halfway through the entrance the wave dropped the ship, and with amighty crash that threw Barbara Harding to her feet the vessel struckfull amidships upon a sunken reef. Like a thing of glass she broke intwo with the terrific impact, and in another instant the waters abouther were filled with screaming men.
Barbara Harding felt herself hurtled from the deck as though shot froma catapult. The swirling waters engulfed her. She knew that her end hadcome, only the most powerful of swimmers might hope to win through thatlashing hell of waters to the beach beyond. For a girl to do it was toohopeless even to contemplate; but she recalled Theriere's words of soshort a time ago: "There's no hope, I'm afraid; but, by George, I intendto go down fighting," and with the recollection came a like resolveon her part--to go down fighting, and so she struck out against thepowerful waters that swirled her hither and thither, now perilouslyclose to the rocky sides of the entrance, and now into the mad chaos ofthe channel's center. Would to heaven that Theriere were near her, shethought, for if any could save her it would be he.
Since she had come to believe in the man's friendship and sincerityBarbara Harding had felt renewed hope of eventual salvation, and withthe hope had come a desire to live which had almost been lacking for thegreater part of her detention upon the Halfmoon.
Bravely she battled now against the awful odds of the mighty Pacific,but soon she fe
lt her strength waning. More and more ineffective becameher puny efforts, and at last she ceased almost entirely the futilestruggle.
And then she felt a strong hand grasp her arm, and with a sudden surgeshe was swung over a broad shoulder. Quickly she grasped the rough shirtthat covered the back of her would-be rescuer, and then commenced abattle with the waves that for many minutes, that seemed hours to thefrightened girl, hung in the balance; but at last the swimmer beneathher forged steadily and persistently toward the sandy beach to flounderout at last with an unconscious burden in his mighty arms.
As the man staggered up out of reach of the water Barbara Harding openedher eyes to look in astonishment into the face of the mucker.