“I’ll knock the face off the first man that comes a step further aft!” he shouted, shaking the pin in my face.  “I’ll show yer who’s master here!  What the hell do yer mean by this?  Get forrard into yer kennel!”

There was a low growl from the men at the last remark, and the old bully stepped back a couple of paces.

“Hold on, you fellows!” I sung out.  “Shut up a minute.”

“Mr. Tulipson!” I called out to the Second, who had not been able to get a word in edgeways, “I don’t know what the devil’s the matter with the First Mate; but he’ll not find it pay to talk to a crowd like ours, in that sort of fashion, or there’ll be ructions aboard.”

“Come! come!  Jessop!  This won’t do!  I can’t have you talking like that about the Mate!” he said, sharply.  “Let me know what’s to-do, and then go forrard again, the lot of you.”

“We’d have told you at first, Sir,” I said, “only the Mate wouldn’t give any of us a chance to speak.  There’s been an awful accident, Sir.  Something’s fallen from aloft, right on to Jock—­”

I stopped suddenly; for there was a loud crying aloft.

“Help! help! help!” someone was shouting, and then it rose from a shout into a scream.

“My God!  Sir!” I shouted.  “That’s one of the men up at the fore royal!”

“Listen!” ordered the Second Mate.  “Listen!” Even as he spoke, it came again—­broken and, as it were, in gasps.

“Help!...  Oh!...  God!...  Oh!...  Help!  H-e-l-p!”

Abruptly, Stubbins’s voice struck in.

“Hup with us, lads!  By God! hup with us!” and he made a spring into the fore rigging.  I shoved the handle of the lantern between my teeth, and followed.  Plummer was coming; but the Second Mate pulled him back.

“That’s sufficient,” he said.  “I’m going,” and he came up after me.

We went over the foretop, racing like fiends.  The light from the lantern prevented me from seeing to any distance in the darkness; but, at the crosstrees, Stubbins, who was some ratlines ahead, shouted out all at once, and in gasps: 

“They’re fightin’ ... like ... hell!”

“What?” called the Second Mate, breathlessly.

Apparently, Stubbins did not hear him; for he made no reply.  We cleared the crosstrees, and climbed into the t’gallant rigging.  The wind was fairly fresh up there, and overhead, there sounded the flap, flap of sailcloth flying in the wind; but since we had left the deck, there had been no other sound from above.

Now, abruptly, there came again a wild crying from the darkness over us.  A strange, wild medley it was of screams for help, mixed up with violent, breathless curses.

Beneath the royal yard, Stubbins halted, and looked down to me.

“Hurry hup ... with ther ... lantern ...  Jessop!” he shouted, catching his breath between the words.  “There’ll be ... murder done ... hin a minute!”