Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake

“How many are we here?” said Dutch.

“Don’t talk like that, Mr Pugh,” said Wilson, the naturalist. “You never mean to fight.”

“Englishmen always mean to fight, Mr Wilson,” said Dutch, sternly, “when there are women to protect.”

“That was well said,” exclaimed a voice from the far end of the little saloon. “I wish I was a strong, hearty man like you.”

“I wish so too, my boy,” said Captain Studwick between his teeth. “Poor lad, his soul is strong if his body is weak.”

“Answer to your names, you who are here,” said Dutch; and in return he repeated those of the captain, Mr Parkley, the doctor, naturalist, and John Studwick. “The ladies, I know, are here,” he added.

“Would to heaven they were not!” muttered the doctor.

“There’s more here nor you’ve called over,” said a gruff voice.

“That’s Rasp,” cried Mr Parkley eagerly.

“Yes, and there’s a couple o’ sailors here too,” said the old fellow, “on’y they’ve lost their tongues.”

“Who are they?” asked the captain, sharply.

“Here’s Dick Rolls here, capen,” said a rough voice.

“And who is that speaking?” said the captain.

“Robert Lennie, your honour,” was the reply.

“The two men I suspected,” whispered the captain to Dutch. “We’ve been on the wrong scent throughout.”

“Miss Studwick had better go with my wife into the forecabin,” said Dutch; and his lips trembled as at the words “my wife” he heard a faint sob. Then there was a low rustling noise, and in a moment more all was still.

“Now, captain, quickly,” said Dutch; “had you not better serve out the arms?”

“They would have been served out before now, Pugh,” was the reply, “if we had had them.”

“You don’t mean,” gasped Dutch, as he recollected missing his own pistol from its shelf in the little cabin.

“I mean that while our minds have been fixed on the silver,” said the captain bitterly, “sharper brains than ours have been dead on seizing the golden opportunities. I have searched and there is not a weapon left.”

A low murmur ran round the cabin; and then there was perfect silence, as they all stood there in the pitchy darkness and stifling heat – for the wind-sail had been withdrawn – listening intently to the sounds above, for it was evident now that some fresh disturbance was on foot – in fact, the noise of the discovery of Oakum now began to reach their ears, accompanied directly after by the sound of shots.

“They are not all enemies on deck, then,” said Dutch, eagerly. “Who can that be?”

“It must be Oakum or Mr Jones,” exclaimed the captain.

“Surely we have more true men on board than that,” said Dutch, who in this time of emergency seemed to take the lead.

“I hope so,” was the captain’s remark; and then once more there was silence on deck, following upon a sharp order or two that they could not make out.

Just then Dutch felt a hand laid upon his arm.

“Who is this?” he said, in a low voice.

“It is I – Meldon,” said the doctor in the same tone. “Lean towards me, Mr Pugh.”

“What do you wish to say?” said Dutch.

“Shall we be obliged to fight, Mr Pugh?” whispered the doctor.

“Are you afraid, sir?” was the reply.

“Perhaps I am; it is only natural, Mr Pugh,” said the doctor. “I have seen so much of death that I have learned to fear it more than a rough sailor or soldier, perhaps; but I was not speaking for myself.”

“I am glad of that,” said Dutch, with something of a sneer, for he was annoyed at being interrupted at such a time.

“You need not sneer, Mr Pugh,” said the doctor quietly. “What I fear is that if we come to some bloody struggle, it may mean death to some here.”

“It is pretty sure to, sir – especially to me,” he muttered, “if I get him by the throat. Who is that moving there?” he said aloud.

“On’y me, Mr Pug,” said a rough voice, and the doctor went on.

“You misunderstand me, Mr Pugh,” continued the doctor, in a whisper. “I mean that the shock might be fatal to young Studwick, and I am sure it would be, in her delicate state, to your wife.”

“My wife should have stayed ashore, sir,” said Dutch, rather harsh, for he resented this interference.

“Your words are very bitter, Mr Pugh,” said the doctor, coldly, “and, excuse me, not manly at such a time. Ever since that night when I was called in to Mrs Pugh, and she had that series of swoons – ”

“You called in to my wife,” said Dutch, who was startled by the words; “that night?”

“Yes, Miss Studwick sent for me, as I was close at hand. Did you not know?”

“No, no,” said Dutch, “I was away from home. I – I forgot – I did not know.”

“I mean when I found her so weak and ill. You must know – that night I carried her up to bed.”

“Yes – yes,” said Dutch, in a strange voice that he did not know for his own. “You mean that night when you carried her in your arms – to her bedroom – there was a light there.”

“Of course. Miss Studwick held it for me,” said the doctor. “I thought you would recollect.”

“Yes – yes,” said Dutch strangely. “I had forgotten. My God, I must have been mad,” he muttered.

“I beg your pardon,” said the doctor, in a low whisper.

“Nothing, nothing; go on, sir, pray.”

“I am glad I have awakened your interest,” said the doctor. “You thought me officious, but indeed, Mr Pugh, she needs your care and thought. That night I thought she would have died; some trouble, I fear, had given her incipient brain fever, and I really dread what may happen if she is subjected to this shock. If anything can be done.”

“I shall see, I shall see,” said Dutch hoarsely. “It was you, then, who carried her up-stairs – not our regular practitioner,” he added, with his voice trembling.