XV
The Great Ghost Ship
When we were called again, at a quarter to four, the man who roused us
out, had some queer information.
"Toppin's gone--clean vanished!" he told us, as we began to turn out. "I
never was in such a damned, hair-raisin' hooker as this here. It ain't
safe to go about the bloomin' decks."
"'oo's gone?" asked Plummer, sitting up suddenly and throwing his legs
over his bunk-board.
"Toppin, one of the 'prentices," replied the man. "We've been huntin'
all over the bloomin' show. We're still at it--but we'll never find
him," he ended, with a sort of gloomy assurance.
"Oh, I dunno," said Quoin. "P'raps 'e's snoozin' somewheres 'bout."
"Not him," replied the man. "I tell you we've turned everythin' upside
down. He's not aboard the bloomin' ship.
"Where was he when they last saw him?" I asked.
"Someone must know something, you know!"
"Keepin' time up on the poop," he replied. "The Old Man's nearly shook
the life out of the Mate and the chap at the wheel. And they say they
don't know nothin'."
"How do you mean?" I inquired. "How do you mean, nothing?"
"Well," he answered. "The youngster was there one minute, and then the
next thing they knew, he'd gone. They've both sworn black an' blue that
there wasn't a whisper. He's just disappeared off of the face of the
bloomin' earth."
I got down on to my chest, and reached for my boots.
Before I could speak again, the man was saying something fresh.
"See here, mates," he went on. "If things is goin' on like this, I'd
like to know where you an' me'll be befor' long!"
"We'll be in 'ell," said Plummer.
"I dunno as I like to think 'bout it," said Quoin.
"We'll have to think about it!" replied the man. "We've got to think a
bloomin' lot about it. I've talked to our side, an' they're game."
"Game for what?" I asked.
"To go an' talk straight to the bloomin' Capting," he said, wagging his
finger at me. "It's make tracks for the nearest bloomin' port, an' don't
you make no bloomin' mistake."
I opened my mouth to tell him that the probability was we should not be
able to make it, even if he could get the Old Man to see the matter from
his point of view. Then I remembered that the chap had no idea of the
things I had seen, and _thought out_; so, instead, I said:
"Supposing he won't?"
"Then we'll have to bloomin' well make him," he replied.
"And when you got there," I said. "What then? You'd be jolly well locked
up for mutiny."
"I'd sooner be locked up," he said. "It don't kill you!"
There was a murmur of agreement from the others, and then a moment of
silence, in which, I know, the men were thinking.
Jaskett's voice broke into it.
"I never thought at first as she was 'aunted--" he commenced; but
Plummer cut in across his speech.
"We mustn't 'urt any one, yer know," he said. "That'd mean 'angin', an'
they ain't been er bad crowd.
"No," assented everyone, including the chap who had come to call us.
"All the same," he added. "It's got to be up hellum, an' shove her into
the nearest bloomin' port."
"Yes," said everyone, and then eight bells went, and we cleared out on
deck.
Presently, after roll-call--in which there had come a queer, awkward
little pause at Toppin's name--Tammy came over to me. The rest of the
men had gone forrard, and I guessed they were talking over mad plans for
forcing the Skipper's hand, and making him put into port--poor beggars!
I was leaning over the port rail, by the fore brace-lock, staring down
into the sea, when Tammy came to me. For perhaps a minute he said
nothing. When at last he spoke, it was to say that the shadow vessels
had not been there since daylight.
"What?" I said, in some surprise. "How do you know?"
"I woke up when they were searching for Toppin," he replied. "I've not
been asleep since. I came here, right away." He began to say something
further; but stopped short.
"Yes," I said encouragingly.
"I didn't know--" he began, and broke off. He caught my arm. "Oh, Jessop!" he exclaimed. "What's going to be the end of it all? Surely something can be done?"
I said nothing. I had a desperate feeling that there was very little we
could do to help ourselves.
"Can't we do something?" he asked, and shook my arm. "Anything's better
than this! We're being murdered!"