I could not help laughing at Peter's quaint notion--still, however little effect it might have on civilised people, I thought it was very likely to scare away the sort of men who composed the Moorish crew, and I advised him instantly to propose it to the captain. Peter, accordingly, bolting his dinner with a haste which showed that he was thinking more about his idea than it, went aft, and opened up the case.

Captain Gale listened more attentively than I expected, and, after a little consideration, said that he thought it was very likely to succeed. The plan once adopted, all hands set energetically to work to make the required preparations.

There was, fortunately, an abundance of materials. I got out the paint-pots, and mixed the colours according to Peter's directions. He himself, with canvas and palm needles, fitted the necks, cutting holes for us to see through them; the other men were employed in making six prodigious round b.a.l.l.s for heads, and covering one part with shakings, to serve as hair. He undertook to stand at the helm, and to have his head at the end of the boat-hook by his side, that he might lift it up at the proper moment. All the frying-pans and shallow pots which could be found were collected, and the captain made with damp gunpowder a number of what schoolboys call "Vesuviuses." These, however, were very much larger than the contents of a schoolboy's purse would allow him to make. He tried one of them, and found it sent forth a lurid glare, which even in the day-time showed what effect it would produce at night.

Before sunset all our preparations were completed; and when dressed up, a very curious and horrid crew we most certainly did look. Had there been more of us, the effect might perhaps have been increased. We now waited almost with boyish impatience for the coming up of the rover to put our trick into execution. Captain Gale was, however, too wise to trust to it till all other means of escape had failed. The wind had rather fallen than increased, and this was an advantage to us in two ways: it enabled us to shorten sail with less difficulty than we should otherwise have done; and we found that, with less wind, we went faster in proportion through the water than did our pursuer.

It was with feelings such as I had very seldom before experienced, that I saw the sun sinking towards the ocean, surrounded with a blaze of glory; its bright rays falling on the loftier sails of the rover, while they still reached our courses. Down it went beneath its watery home, and I questioned very much with myself whether I should ever again see it rise. I had no great confidence in Peter's trick, nor do I suppose that he had much himself, when he came seriously to think about the matter; but still, if overtaken, we had no other means of escaping--we could not fight, and still less could we have any hope from the mercy of our foes. I did not, however, mention my doubts to Peter, and far less would I have done so to any of the other men. Young as I was, I had seen enough of the world to have learned the value of discretion.

As the daylight disappeared, a grey canopy of clouds was spread over the sky, sufficiently thick to obscure the stars. Thus the night was more than usually dark. Still, as the atmosphere was free from mist, seamen's eyes could distinguish objects at a considerable distance off.

With much anxiety we watched the rover, in the hope that the growing darkness would hide her from our view; but still we could see her following closely in our wake, and thus, of course, there was every probability that she could see us. We could not expect that the darkness would increase; consequently there would have been no use in altering our course, as it would have been perceived on board; so all we could do was to stand boldly on as before. At the rate she was overhauling us, as the captain calculated, she would be up with us by midnight. I should have liked to have shortened sail, and brought the matter to an issue, but Captain Gale was not a man to act thus unwisely.

He knew that we might fall in with some friendly vessel, or that the pirate might give up the chase, or that some sudden change in the weather might enable us to escape at the last moment. Everything, however, was prepared; and thus standing at our posts, we waited the result.

Nearer and nearer drew the pirate. We were within range of her guns, still she did not fire. On she came. She was close upon our quarter.

"Wait till I give the word," said the captain, in a low voice. She was ranging up on our beam.

"Ready!" exclaimed the captain. "Now!"

In a moment a terrifically lurid glare was cast over our decks. Up went the helmsman's gory head at the end of a boarding-pike, though he steered as steadily as before, while we all shook ours in our hands, and at the same moment gave vent to the most unearthly shrieks, and groans, and cries, our headless helmsman shrieking and shouting louder than any of us. At this we all again shook our ghastly heads. Peter had given the necks the appearance of dropping blood, and again we shrieked and groaned louder than ever.

The effect on board the rover was instantaneous. The crew must have fully thought that they had got hold of some demon-craft as a punishment for their crimes. Down went their helm; the tacks and sheets seemed all to be flying away together; and the topsails came down on their caps.

Ropes were let go, but no one thought of hauling on others, or belaying them; no one seemed to know what they were about; and many even shrieked and cried out with terror and dismay. Nothing could have been more complete than the success of our trick.

We were all eagerly watching its effect, when, just as the vessels were parting, a figure was seen to spring into the main-rigging of the rover.

We all saw him, and all recognised the person as no other than Walter Stenning, the late master of the _Dolphin_. On we sailed. The dark outline of the rover grew less and less distinct, till it was totally lost in the gloom of night.

CHAPTER TEN.

THE WATER-LOGGED SHIP.

For the remainder of the night we kept anxiously looking over the taffrail, lest our enemy should have again made sail in chase. More than once I thought I saw the rover's shadowy form stealing up towards us through the darkness; but just as I expected to make it out clearly, to my great relief it dissipated into mist. Voices, also, I thought, seemed to be shouting after us from out of the gloom; but neither did they ever a.s.sume any distinctness, and fancy, I found, had caused the creation of them both. Slowly the night pa.s.sed away, and as soon as the first bright streaks of dawn appeared in the grey sky, the captain went himself aloft to take a survey of the horizon.

"There is not a sail in sight in any quarter," he exclaimed to Peter, as he returned on deck. "To your clever suggestion we owe our own lives and the safety of the ship; but clever as it was, I would not advise others to try a similar one. They might not meet with enemies so easily deceived."

"No, sir," answered Peter, "certainly not; and, for my part, I would much rather have beat off the scoundrels in a fair stand-up fight than with such a play-acting trick as that; but then, you see, air, it was Hobson's choice--neck or nothing with us!"

Peter's curious contrivances were kept, that they might be shown as an evidence of the way in which we had escaped from the rover. The appearance of Walter Stenning on board the rover was a subject of constant conversation among us. There could be no doubt, then, that he had been carried on board the rover, and that his life had been preserved. This would be a satisfaction to his friends, though a melancholy one, as his ultimate fate must still be uncertain.

We had still a long pa.s.sage before us to Halifax, and might meet with many adventures. At all events, we could scarcely expect to escape some bad weather, though it was not likely we should encounter the rover, or any of her consorts, as gentry of that cla.s.s were not fond of venturing into northern lat.i.tudes. For more than a couple of weeks the fine weather continued, and we met with no event worthy of note. We had, however, to learn somewhat more of the sufferings which people meet with on the wide ocean.

One morning the sky became overcast; the water was of that dull leaden hue, striped with white foam, which gives so gloomy an aspect to the ocean; and heavy squalls compelled us to shorten sail as fast as all hands could get through the task. For the greater part of the day the squalls continued; but in the afternoon, though it was hazy, the weather again improved.

I was looking out, when I saw through the mist what I took to be a sail.

There was something strange about her rig--I could not make it out.

Accordingly, I reported it to the captain, who came on deck. He called Peter to him.

"She looks to me like a vessel in distress, with most of her spars and upper-rigging carried away," he observed. She was about six miles off, on the lee-bow. Accordingly, the brig was kept away towards her.

Heavy squalls of rain occasionally blew over us, and for a time completely hid the wreck from view. When it cleared for an instant, we made out that she had an English ensign reversed secured to the main-rigging. Her mainmast alone was standing entire, her foremast had gone by the board, her mizzen-mast was carried away at the top, and part only of her bowsprit remained. Her maintop-mast-yard was still crossed; but the sail, torn to ribbons, now fluttered in the wind, and not another inch of canvas had she set.

"She looks dreadfully knocked about," observed the captain. "And from the way she rolls in the trough of the sea, there can be no doubt that she is water-logged. If it were not for the signal flying, I should scarcely expect to find anyone on board."

We had as much sail set as we could venture to carry, so that we could not make greater speed towards her; but the squalls increased in number, and night was coming on, so that we began to fear that we should be unable to get up to her before darkness hid her from our sight. Even when we had got up to her, unless she had her own boats, short-handed as we were, with a heavy sea running, we could scarcely hope to render her much a.s.sistance. Still Captain Gale was not the man to neglect making the attempt. Some, I am sorry to say, would have sailed on their way, and allowed any poor wretches who might have been on the wreck to perish miserably. As we approached the wreck, we could just distinguish through the driving mists and thickening gloom of night, several human beings leaning against the stumps of her masts, or sitting on her deck eagerly waving to us. The captain on seeing them exclaimed--

"Peter, we must do something to save those poor fellows."

"I should think: so, sir," was the answer. "If you let me have a boat, with Jack there, and one hand besides, I'll undertake to get on board and bring them off. I know that it would leave you terribly short-handed if we were lost; but I don't think that there's any chance of that, and I'm sure that we shall be protected in doing what's right."

"You shall have your way, Peter; I cannot refuse you," exclaimed the captain, warmly. "We'll heave the brig to to leeward of the wreck, so that if you can manage to get the poor fellows into the boat, you can with less difficulty drop aboard of us again."

According to this plan, we ran under the stern of the ship and rounded to. I never saw a more complete wreck yet floating on the surface. Her entire bulwarks, her boats, caboose, booms--indeed everything on deck-- had been completely carried away, and the sea even now occasionally washed entirely over her. It was not an easy matter to lower our boat, but it was done without an accident; and Peter, Andrew Blair, a fine young fellow, and I, pulled away in her for the wreck. The unfortunate wretches on board waved us on. Several more made their appearance, as we approached, from behind a sail which had been triced up round the mainmast, which appeared to be the only shelter they had from the inclemency of the weather. They were all holding on to ropes secured to the masts or rigging, for without them they would certainly at once have been washed off the deck into the sea.

On getting nearer, we saw one or two heads looking at us from above the companion-hatch, which had escaped, and seemed to have afforded some shelter to others. We pulled as close to her as we could venture to go.

"Remember if we come alongside only four of you at a time must get into the boat, or we shall all lose our lives together!" shouted Peter. "Do you hear me there?"

They signified that they did hear; but Peter's caution was very unnecessary, for few of them could do more than crawl, and none of them, without a.s.sistance, could have got into the boat.

"I see what must be done," said Peter to us. "You two remain in the boat. There's a rope towing overboard from the main-rigging; I'll get hold of it, and haul myself on her deck, and then, as best I can, I'll drop the poor fellows into the boat!"

To propose was with him to act. As the boat with the send of the sea approached the wreck, while we fended her off he seized the rope, which he found secure, and though the water, as it came pouring down to leeward, washed over him, he hauled himself up in a moment on her deck, and stood among the miserable wretches who peopled it. They crawled round him, and grasped his legs, to show their grat.i.tude to him as their deliverer. I saw by his action that he was telling them that there was not a moment to be lost. Beckoning to us to approach, he seized one of them up in his arms as if he had been an infant, and grasping the rope with one hand, swung himself off from the side of the ship, and deposited his burden in the boat, or rather in our arms, as we stood ready to receive him. In a moment he was on the deck, and lifting up another human being, sprung as before into the boat.

"How many of you are there?" he asked of one who seemed to be the strongest of the crew, and looked by his dress like an officer. Once he had evidently been a stout, broad-shouldered, muscular young man, now he was a mere skeleton like the rest.

"Twelve or fourteen there were this morning, but I know not how many may since have died," was the answer, given in a hollow tone scarcely audible.

"Then we'll take four at a time to the brig, and we shall have to make three trips," answered Peter. "We must not venture with more, though as to weight the boat would carry the whole of you. Now, my lad," he continued, addressing the mate, for so the man who had spoken proved to be, "just do you come with us this trip. I'll lend you a hand into the boat."

"No, no!" answered the fine fellow; "take some of the others who are worse off than I am. There were a couple of women. They will be found aft under the companion-hatch."

As no persuasion would make the mate alter his determination, Peter hurried aft, and diving under the hatch, returned with what looked like a long bundle of clothes in his arms. "Gently, now," he sung out; "she has life in her, but very little of it."

The clothes enveloped a female form, but so emaciated that she seemed to be of no weight whatever. Before placing her in the boat, Peter poured a few drops of liquid down her throat from a flask the captain had given him.

"There's no use to bring the other poor thing; her sufferings are over,"

he observed, as he lifted in another man. "And now, my lads, we'll put these on board."

We soon dropped down to the brig, and with less difficulty got the poor wretches up the side. The captain proposed sending the two other hands instead of Blair and me, but we begged that we might be allowed to return to the wreck.

Once more we pulled away from the brig, the boat, it must be remembered, tumbling and tossing about, now sunk in the trough of the sea, now rising to the top of a foam-crested wave; the sky overhead threatening and cloudy; a dense mist driving in our faces; and darkness rapidly coming on. We had the lives of fellow-creatures to save, and we persevered. Again the undaunted Peter sprung on board the wreck.

"Take care of that man!" exclaimed the mate, as an extraordinary-looking figure, in a long dressing-gown, with strips of canvas fastened about his head, ran up from behind the woman; "he is not altogether right in his mind, I fear."

"Avaunt, ye pirates! ye plunderers! ye marauders!" shrieked out the person spoken of. "How dare ye venture on board my n.o.ble ship? Away with ye! away! away!" and flourishing a piece of timber which he had wrenched, it seemed, from the side of the ship, he advanced towards Peter.

My shipmate would have been struck down by the maniac's blow, had he not sprung nimbly aside, and then, rushing in, he closed with the wretched being, and wrenched the weapon out of his grasp. The madman's strength was exhausted.