The Golden Harpoon — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

18 THE GOLDEN HARPOON. “My own Alice, here on the ice! Heaven help her!” cried. Marline, as he threw his arm impulsively round the waist of the sweet girl. “Without shelter —without m “ Answer me, Harry, are you much hurt?” “Tf we could erect some kind of a canopy to cover you—ay, if we could only do that,” con- tinued the harpooner, still, in his anxiety for the comfort of Alice, forgetting to answer her question, “then there would be some consola- tion in the matter.” “You are hurt—badly injured!” murmured the girl, with tears in her eyes, “and that is the reason why you will not reply to me.” “Hurt? No, indeed; I was only stunned And the young man sprang lightly to his feet. Alice also arose, and placed her hand upon the shoulder of her lover, looking into his face with a bright smile. “IT am so glad,” she said, “I am happy now. “Ay, ay, but blow me if I am!” grunted Stump, who, with his hands and his ankles so closely bound that he was forced to sit in a “doubled-up”’ position upon the cold surface of the ice, was certainly in an uncomfortable situation. ‘No, not a bit of it. These quar- ters are worse than that beastly hold; and if you don’t untie me pretty soon, I shall commit suicide, much as that goes against the Stump nature, by rolling over the edge of the ice into the water.”’ >? CHAPTER VIII. THE CHASE. A S the “ Montpelier” bowled upon her , way, after Lark had so unceremoniously ~ == left his prisoners upon the ice, the giant rubbed his hands with delight, and glancing up at the squared topsails, which were now filled by the northerly breeze, he thus communed with himself: “Tt is all right now. A fair wind, and the craft cleared of all unnecessary rubbish. That’s as it should be—that’s equal rights.” His eye fell upon the steward as he spoke, when he suddenly remembered that he had another duty to perform before he could ex- perience that intense satisfaction which, in his opinion, should be felt by the captain of a newly-acquired ship. So he despatched one of the islanders into the cabin for the “ cat-o’-nine-tails,” an old heirloom that had descended to Briggs from a nautical grandsire, who was famed for his dex- terous and frequent use of this instrument. The native soon returned,, and, armed with this cruel weapon, the chief mutineer advanced to the mizzen shrouds, to commence the work of punishment. ‘ The Portuguese writhed like a serpent be- neath the torture, which was inflicted with an unsparing hand, and his screams rang in un- earthly peals through every corner of the ship, thrilling the hearts of the New Zealanders eyen with the most uncomfortable sensations. The captain himself soon became disgusted with these cries, and, wishing to entertain him- self in a more agreeable manner, cut the steward loose, and, by a dexterous movement of his right leg, sent him headlong to the com- panion-way, ordering him, in a very impolite manner, to go below and prepare his dinner. With another glance aloft, and a hasty look at. the compass, Captain Lark then stepped to the companion-way, with the intention of de- scending and hastening the movements of his steward. But, he had not quite reached the middle of the staircase, when one of those pro- longed and unearthly cries, such as only the wild men of the Pacific Isles can utter, broke upon his ear and caused him to start. * Boat, O-o-0!” And before the shrill, vibrating voice had _ quite died away, the captain cleared the en- trance of the companion-way with a bound, and ordering the man at the wheel to keep off a couple of points, rushed forward and sprang upon the knight-heads. Yes; there it was, sure enough—a boat lying just a little off the starboard bow, within ten fathoms of the ship, with her oars apeak and her crew looming up like grim phantoms in the fog! “Ship ahoy!’ shouted a deep, stentorian voice, which Lark inmediately recognised as that of the hoary-headed Briggs; “isn’t that the ‘ Montpelier’ ?” “No!” promptly answered the mutineer, and as he spoke, the bows of the ship fell rapidly off; “it’s the ‘Neptune’ !” “Blow me, but I know that voice }” retorted the mate. ‘It’s Tom Lark’s, and—and—ay, may I be swallowed by a shark if the craft isn't the ‘Montpelier’! My eyes can’t deceive me with regard to a-vessel I’ve once sailed in! Pull ahead, Mr. Spooner !”’ 3 “Ay, ay, sir,” retorted the second mate, and he ordered his crew to take to their oars. By this time the ship—which had been kept off a couple of points, thus bringing the wind upon the quarter—had forged ahead so far that the boat was now abreast of the main-rigging ; and, as the oar-blades of its crew splashed in the water, the mutineer rushed to the waist, . and watched the approaching vessel with an anxious eye. “ A pull on the lee-braces, men!” he shouted to the three islanders, who, besides the man at the wheel and the steward in the cabin, now constituted the crew of the ‘“ Montpelier.” They were all strong men, and with the assist- ance of their powerful leader, they soon had the yards properly braced to agree with the new course of the ship. The latter was now boom- ing along through the water at the rate of eight knots, with a man at the wheel who under- stood his business; for the New Zealander, be- sides his readiness in learning to wield the: barbed harpoon, soon acquires a good practical knowledge of seamanship. “ White Squall ”— so named by his shipmates on account of his fitful temper—was no exception to the rule, and he handled the spokes like a veteran— keeping the vessel so straight that even a frigate’s quartermaster could not have found fault with his steering. Lark’s tormentor, CORMICLOOKS EO