The Argosy, Vol. XXIV No. 2 — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

THE MUTINY ON ‘THE FLYING CLOUD. 353 ‘‘ Bad enough, Mr. Manners, you may depend on it,’’ answered Nicholls, who, occupying the adjoining bunk, had overheard this muttered soliloquy, ‘“‘bad enough! ‘This is the worse storm we’ve had since we’ve been on the island. Why—-listen to that now! and did ye feel the house shake, sir? Why, it must be blowing a regular tornado—or typhoon, as they calls ’em in these latitudes. The skipper sleeps pretty sound through it, don’t he, sir?’’ ‘‘ He does, indeed,’’ replied Manners ; and then, a sudden recollection of the fishing expedition coming upon him, ue added, ‘‘I suppose he zs asleep— I suppose he is in his berth. Did you hear him come in??”’ ‘ Not I, sir,’’ was the answer. ‘‘I dozed off to sleep almost before I had. time to make myself comfortable, and I never woke until a minute or two since, when the roar of the gale disturbed me.’’ ‘‘ Are you awake, Captain Blake?’’ demanded Manners sharply. No answer, and both men listen as well as they can through the awful roar and shriek of the gale, hoping to hear the measured breathing of the sleeper. But no such sound is heard; and after listening breathlessly for a few seconds Manners bounds out of frie berth, and fumbling about for the matches, finds them at last and strikes a light. The skipper’s berth is empty and undisturbed ; it has evidently not been slept on that night. Manners anc Nicholls—the latter having also turned out—looked blankly at the bunk and then at each other, the same dreadful suspicion dawning upon them both at the same instant. ‘“Good heavens !’’ gasped Manners. ‘‘It cannot be that—and yet it looks like it—is it possible, Tom, that the skipper has not returned—that he is at sea on the raft in this awful gale? ”’ “I’m blest if it don’t look uncommon like it, sir,’? is Nicholls’ reply, uttered in a tone of desperate conviction. ‘‘ Tell ye what ’tis, sir,’’ he con- tinued, as he hastily proceeded to don a garment or two, slipping his bare feet into his shoes as he does so, ‘‘I’m off down to the creek to see if the punt is there. If she ain’t, you may depend on it she’s ridin’ at the raft’s moorin’s—if she ain’t swamped—and that the raft’s at sea, with the poor SE IEpSr aboard of her. The Lord have mercy on him if it is so, that’s all I says.”’ " Stop a minute ; I will go with you,’’ says Manners, also hastily dress- ing ; ‘‘but before we go we had perhaps better inquire of Mr. Grant or the doctor whether they know anything about him; they are certain to be awake,”’ A minute later the two men are groping their way along the wall of the courtyard toward Grant’s room, in which they can perceive a light. Man- ners knocks, and instantly receives the response : “Yes. Who is there ?”’ “* Manners and Nicholls, sir. Do you know anything about the captain, Mr. Grant? He is not with us, and his bunk has not been slept in tonight.’’ ‘“ Stay where you are—I will be out in a moment,’’ is the reply. And almost in the short space of time named Grant emerges. ‘‘ Now, then,’’ he demands, somewhat sternly, ‘‘ what is it you say about the captain? Surely I cannot have heard you right ?”’ (K) OMlGoOOKS |