By the World Forgot: A Double Romance of the East and West

"You'll be hung at the end of the v'yage if you don't," said Templin, inexorably. "Them Russians ain't more'n half civilized, anyway, an' they'll do pretty much as the cap'n says. This is your only chance."

"Does Gersey know?"

"Of course. He's the one that made the whole plan, only the officers ain't to know that."

"You don't expect to be able to lower that boat and cast it adrift without attracting attention, do you?"

"In course not, but it's a dark night an' we're goin' to git you down an' afloat, whatever happens."

"But the captain will immediately come after me."

"He can't brace the yards hisself an' work the ship alone with only Salver an' the bo's'n, can he?"

"I see, but I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Every man on the ship 'ceptin' the steward is with you, an' we're simply not goin' to let him hang you."

"Templin, I want you to remember two names and an address."

"What are they?"

"Harnash and Beekman, 33 Broadway, New York."

"That's easy," said Templin, repeating the words. "Why?"

"That's my address when I'm home. If I ever get home and any of you men want a friend, come there. I want you to pass that around among the crew, every one of them. You fellows didn't believe me, but now that I'm going I want to tell you for the last time my story is true, and if you want to be fixed for life, just come and see me there."

"Well, I hopes you gits there, Smith, or-"

"Beekman."

"Beekman, then."

"And I, and I, and I," was heard from the various members of the watch gathered about and speaking in low tones.

"Now, come aft," said Templin, "an' tread soft. There's no use arousin' the old man if we can help it. Only needs four of us to overhaul the gear an' lower away," continued the ringleader, picking out three associates. "The rest of you git down in the shadder of the rail on the lee side of the waist near the bridge. Mr. Gersey is keepin' a bright lookout to windward. If you hear any noise, come aft on the run."

Without making a sound, Beekman and his four devoted friends passed under the bridge, crouching down in the shadow of the lee rail until they were well aft and sheltered from observation by the broad canvas of the spanker. Mr. Gersey was on the other side of the bridge, staring hard forward and up to windward in the most approved fashion.

"You'll find everything ready for steppin' the mast an' spreadin' sail," whispered Templin. "The sea's fairly smooth, the wind's blowin' from the east'ard. You'd better git the canvas on her soon's you can. You hadn't ought to be in sight of us at daybreak."

"What time is it now?"

Three bells were struck forward at the moment, a couplet and then a single bell.

"Three bells, you hears," answered Templin. "You'll have three hours, and with you goin' one way an' us another, we'll be out of sight before daybreak. Remember, your course is sou'west-by-west."

"I shan't forget that or anything. When you have a chance bid Gersey good-bye for me and tell him not to forget the cable. God only knows where I'll turn up or when I'll get back, but when I do-well, remember what I said, Harnash and Beekman, 33 Broadway, New York."

He shook Templin's hand and nodded to the other three and stepped into the boat.

"Lower away," whispered Templin.

Now the night was quiet. The breeze was not strong. The creaking of the falls, since the sailors had taken precaution to grease them, was reduced to a minimum; still, some sound was made. Gersey had kept his eyes steadily forward, although he knew, of course, everything that was happening. He glanced around just as the whaleboat disappeared below the rail.

As luck would have it, Captain Fish, who slept, of course, in the stern cabin, happened to be wakeful. With an ear trained and accustomed to all the ordinary noises of the ship, anything out of common raised his suspicions. He heard the slight creaking. He sat up in his berth and listened. The noise came from aft, overhead. He ran to the stern window and peered through the open transom just at the moment that the keel of the descending whaleboat came on a level with the window. Fish slept with a revolver under his pillow. He leaped back, grabbed the pistol, jumped to the transom again to find himself staring into the face of Beekman.

"Keep fast those falls," he roared, presenting his pistol.

Beekman was standing up in the boat, fending her off from the stern with a boathook. Fish had turned on the electric light-the Susquehanna was provided with a dynamo-and he was clearly visible. Beekman struck his arm with the boathook, knocking the pistol into the sea. The next instant there was a sudden roar on the deck above from Gersey, who judged that it was now safe to give the alarm. This outcry was followed by the trampling of many feet and a swift rush of the falls through the blocks. There was no necessity for concealment now. Templin and his men lowered the boat with a run.

Beekman worked smartly. As soon as the boat was water-borne he cast off the tackles and began tugging frantically at the mast. With seamanlike care, it had been so arranged that what had been almost an impossible task for one man in a hurry he could easily accomplish. The Susquehannawas sailing at a smart rate and she had drawn some distance ahead before Captain Fish reached the deck. He was in a towering rage.

"Mr. Gersey," he roared, "what does this mean, sir? The prisoner has escaped, an' in your watch?"

"I know it, sir," answered Gersey. "The men have got out of hand, sir."

"They have," exclaimed Fish. He had mounted half-way up the accommodation ladder of the bridge. Although he was unarmed and clad only in his pajamas, he did not hesitate on that account.

"I'll see about that," he roared. "I'll have no mutiny on my ship." He ran toward the group seen blackly against the white rail aft, shouting, "The man that did this will swing for it."

"Scatter," cried a voice.

The group instantly dissolved in the darkness of the deck. Fish made a grab at the nearest one, but a man behind him ran violently into him. He lost his hold. In a moment the quarter deck was deserted. The Susquehanna on her present course had the wind broad abeam.

"Mr. Gersey," roared the captain, "call all hands and stand by to wear ship. We must pick up that boat with that murdering mutineer aboard."

"Aye, aye, sir. For'ard there. Call the other watch."

Now the other watch was awake and waiting. Some of them, indeed, had participated in the affair of the night. Scarcely had the boatswain's mate sounded the call, when the watch below came tumbling up from the forecastle. Mr. Salver also joined the group on the bridge, rubbing his eyes sleepily. The captain took charge himself.

"Hands to the weather braces," he cried, "ease off the spanker sheet. Flatten in the head sails for'ard. Hard up with the helm."

Not a man on the deck stirred. No one ran to the weather braces. No one cast off the lee braces. The helmsman remained immobile. The spanker sheet was not eased off. The sheets of the head sails were not hauled aft. The captain stared a moment in astonishment.

"Wear ship," he cried, "don't you hear me?"

"We heerd you," answered a voice out of the darkness, "but we're not goin' to wear the ship."

"You refuse to obey orders?"

"We'll obey all other orders, same as we have allus done, but we don't propose to pick up that there whaleboat."

"Who spoke?" roared the captain.

There was a movement in the groups of men in the darkness. Templin's voice, well disguised, came first from one side of the deck to the other, as he moved about while he spoke.

"You might as well make up your mind to it, Cap'n Fish. We're determined that no harm is to come to Smith. He's gone. For the rest, we'll work the ship to Vladisvostok, which we signed on for. You'll find us obeyin' orders same as ever in the mornin'."