He made a desperate struggle to get his legs up, and cling with them to the rope, but his strength was gone, and he only weakened himself, and hanging now at the full stretch of his arms, feeling, as the sinews of his 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 he shriek for help and forego his revenge--anything to be saved.

His lips parted, and he tried to yell loudly, but a harsh gurgle was all that came now from his dry throat. He tried again and again, but horror had paralysed him, and he could do nothing but pant hoa.r.s.ely like one in a nightmare, and believe that, after all, this was but some fearful dream from which he would awaken, as he often had before, bathed with perspiration, and shivering with dread.

At last he tried to close his starting eyes, and hide from his distorted vision 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 denied him, for it seemed as if the whole muscular strength of his body was condensed in his arms, by which he clung to the fall, and power had left him to perform any other act than that of clinging for life. The deadly sense of terror increased, and with men at either end of the vessel ready 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 to his help now regardless of the exposure of his plans, but it was too late: he could do no more than hold on, and wait till he fell.

No torture could possibly have been greater than that felt by this wretch as he softly swung to and fro within a few inches of the safety he had provided, and yet unable to reach it. A thousand thoughts rushed through his brain, but they were mostly regrets that he had been unable to compa.s.s his revenge; that he had neglected his opportunities when he might have made himself the master of Hester, seeing how thoroughly he had her in his power, and his bared teeth glistened in the darkness as a wave curled and, splashing against the side of the schooner, sent forth a phosph.o.r.escent 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, his muscles were relaxing, the sense of terror was growing more dull, and he must fall. His eyes were staring straight up at the davit, now black above his head, just faintly seen through the darkness, and it seemed more than ever the instrument of his death as the slipping rope for a moment scorched his hands, his eyes convulsively closed as the strain on the muscles of his arms ceased, and he fell.

But not to plunge into the black waters beneath him, and only a few feet from where he had hung, for the wave that curled against the side, and with its phosph.o.r.escent glare shewn his distorted features, swept the boat beneath his feet, and he sank all of a heap in the bows, to lie there motionless as the boat rose and fell. For he was utterly prostrate, and it was some minutes before he could realise that he was still alive.

When, however, by slow degrees the feeling came upon him that he was safe, no thanks rose to his cracked, dry lips, but a smile of malignant satisfaction, for revenge was still open to him, and as soon as he could recover himself somewhat, he might put his plan into execution.

For fully half-an-hour Laure lay there crouching in the bows of the boat waiting for the strength that would enable him to achieve his nefarious ends, while the watch hung drowsily over the bulwarks, and those below slept peacefully, in ignorance of the horrible fate that was in store.

At last, like some deadly monster uncoiling its folds, the Cuban began to move, and his first attempt was to reach a bottle of spirits, from whose gurgling throat he drank with avidity, the potent fluid giving him the restoration he sought. Then as the blood began to tingle in his veins, 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 necessity for immediate action, and now with eager haste he cautiously felt about, and placed the galvanic battery in a convenient spot, took hold of the reel of fine silk-covered wire, arranged it so that it was not entangled, and then, having a.s.sured himself that all was right, he took out his knife and cut the boat's painter, floating now gently away in the wake of the schooner, while as he did so he let the wire run rapidly out so that a connection was kept up.

There must have been at least a hundred yards of wire, and the schooner glided away so gently that there was never any stress on the frail metal cord, till the last rings ran off the reel, when Laure, with a cry of exultation, checked the progress softly and felt for the wire's end.

The schooner could hardly be distinguished now, and there was not a moment to lose, for if the wire were tightened till it dragged on the boat it must part, so with trembling eagerness the Cuban twisted the slight metal strand twice round his left hand, while with his right he placed the end against the bra.s.s connection of the plates in the battery.

The work was instantaneous.

As he touched the connection with the tiny point of copper there was a hissing noise in the jar, a little point of light darted at the end of the wire, and simultaneously a hundred yards away in the darkness there was a tremendous flash, the darkness was illuminated by a fountain of sparks, which rose high in air, driven by a fan-like wave of flame; the fire curved over, and the sparks fell hissing into the sea.

As the flame rose, spreading wider and wider, there was a roar as of thunder, a rush as of the wind in a tempest struck Laure, the boat rocked to and fro, shipping no small amount of water, and the wire twisted round the Cuban's hand cut and bit into the flesh ere it snapped short off.

But he did not feel the pain, and saw not the danger to which he was exposed as he gazed straight beyond him at the doomed ship, and exulted in the wild shriek of horror that he had heard as the noise of the explosion died away.

He heard no more, for an awful silence fell upon the ocean, now blacker than ever, and rising up in the boat he held out one hand, shaking his fist in the direction where a faint glow told him of burning fragments of 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 his curse at the schooner and those on board, it was but a feeble cry, and he fell back senseless over the thwarts to lie in the bottom of the boat, with the water that had been shipped washing over him.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE CATASTROPHE.

The occupants of the cabin had sat long that night, talking of poor John Studwick's peaceful end, and then separated, feeling low-spirited and heavy, as if some fresh trouble were in store; but Bessy had said good-night to Meldon, with her hands resting lovingly in his, and she did not shrink away when he pressed his lips to her forehead.

It had been arranged that the remains of the dead should be committed to the deep next day, and at last all had retired, after the captain and Dutch had heard the doctor's report of Laure's state, which caused them some uneasiness, for if he recovered they felt that much trouble was in store.

But there was not the faintest suspicion of danger: trusty men were at the look-out and helm, and it had been arranged that Dutch was to take turns with the doctor and captain to visit the deck during the night, the doctor having his patient to watch. Then there was Rasp, too, who would be on the move several times during the night, and all promised well.

And so the time wore on till Dutch, who had lain down in his clothes, rose and kissed his sleeping wife as she lay there peacefully dreaming.

All was very still, and on reaching the deck he found the darkness intense, but, guided by the faint glow from the binnacle lantern, he went aft to where Lennie was softly crooning to himself some old ditty about "Coming back to Sairey in the good ship Jane."

"Yes, sir, all right," said the sailor; "the breeze keeps nice and steady, only it's like sailing in a tar barrel, it's so awful black."

Dutch went forward and found Sam Oak.u.m leaning with his elbows on the bulwark, matched by his companion on the other side of the bowsprit gazing straight out ahead.

"Right as nails, sir," said the old sailor, "only I was a thinking, being a man as never used it, if this here sea looked as black in the sunshine as it do now, what a fortune a man might make in bottles o'

ink. You might go on filling 'em up, sir, for ever and ever, amen, and there'd be plenty left to sail the ships in all the same."

"It is black, Sam," said Dutch, "and I often wonder that you sailors are not afraid of being run down, or of running into some other vessels."

"There's plenty o' room," said Sam, "and as to being afraid, what's the use? We're too busy. 'Course there is a collision sometimes, but not often, thank goodness."

"Keep a sharp look-out," said Dutch, turning to go.

"Ay, ay, I'll keep a sharp look-out," said the old fellow. "Lord, it's ticklish work, sailing with all this silver aboard, and I shall be glad when we're safe in. How's the prisoner, sir?"

"I'm going down to see," replied Dutch; and going to the hatch, he descended, to find Rasp sleeping soundly, and the lamp burned down to a dim light, that did not show the state of the Cuban's berth.

Dutch shook the old diver roughly, and he started up muttering, while, as the former turned up the lamp, he started with surprise.

"Where is--"

The words had not left his lips when there was a tremendous concussion, a deafening roar, and the two men were thrown down, to struggle up again, with the air of the little cabin filled with a strange choking vapour, which nearly suffocated them before they had staggered up the steps to sink helplessly on the deck, now covered with burning fragments which kept showering down.

As Dutch fell, stunned and confused, on the fore part of the deck it seemed to him that he heard wild shrieks and cries for help from the direction of the stern cabins, but he was too helpless to comprehend what had taken place till he heard Oak.u.m speaking to him and shaking his arm.

"Are you killed, Mr Dutch?" said the old fellow. "Oh, do say you ain't."

"I don't think I'm hurt, Sam," faltered Dutch, as he struggled to his feet. "I feel stunned, though," and he clung to the old sailor to keep from falling backwards.

"Here's poor old Rasp killed," exclaimed Oak.u.m, "and the ship sinking.

Quick, to the boat."

"You're an obstinate old liar," exclaimed Rasp, staggering to his feet.

"I ain't killed. Who's been a-doing of this?"

"Here, quick, Oak.u.m," exclaimed Dutch, who, now that he could think, had his first thoughts for his wife and friends, "the ship must be going down. Help me to reach those astern."

"There's no getting to them, if they're alive," exclaimed Oak.u.m; "the whole of the schooner's blown out amidships."

"Ahoy!" there came a voice from beyond the great black gulf in the centre of the schooner, which now began to blaze.

"Who's that? Ahoy!" shouted Dutch. "Captain Studwick?"

"Right! Who's with you there?"