“But it’s pointing towards me,” said the mate, “and you’ve got your finger on the trigger.”
[Illustration: “‘It’s pointing towards me,’ said the mate.”]
Mr. Chalk apologized.
“What did Tredgold and Stobell run away for?” he demanded.
Mr. Duckett said that perhaps they were—like himself—nervous of firearms. He also, in reply to further questions, assured him that the mutiny was an affair of the past, and, gaining confidence, begged him to hold the wheel steady for a moment. Mr. Chalk, still clinging to his weapons, laid hold of it, and the mate, running to the companion, called to those below. Led by Mr. Stobell they came on deck.
“It’s all over now,” said Tredgold, soothingly.
“As peaceable as lambs,” said Captain Brisket, taking a gentle hold of the rifle, while Stobell took the revolver.
Mr. Chalk smiled faintly, and then looked round in trepidation as the inmates of the galley drew near and scowled at him curiously.
“Get for’ard!” cried Brisket, turning on them sharply. “Keep your own end o’ the ship. D’ye hear?”
The men shuffled off slowly, keeping a wary eye on Mr. Chalk as they went, the knowledge of the tempting mark offered by their backs to an eager sportsman being apparent to all.
“It’s all over,” said Brisket, taking the wheel from the mate and motioning to him to go away, “and after your determination, sir, there’ll be no more of it, I’m sure.”
“But what was it?” demanded Mr. Chalk. “Mutiny?”
“Not exactly what you could call mutiny,” replied the captain, in a low voice. “A little mistake o’ Duckett’s. He’s a nervous man, and perhaps he exaggerated a little. But don’t allude to it again, for the sake of his feelings.”
“But somebody locked me in the cabin,” persisted Mr. Chalk, looking from one to the other.
Captain Brisket hesitated. “Did they?” he said, with a smile of perplexity. “Did they? I gave orders that that door was to be kept locked when there was nobody in there, and I expect the cook did it by mistake as he passed. It’s been a chapter of accidents all through, but I must say, sir, that the determined way you came on deck was wonderful.”
“Extraordinary!” murmured Mr. Tredgold.
“I didn’t know him,” attested Mr. Stobell, continuing to regard Mr. Chalk with much interest.
“I can’t make head or tail of it,” complained Mr. Chalk. “What about the ladies?”
Captain Brisket shook his head dismally and pointed ashore, and Mr. Chalk, following the direction of his finger, gazed spellbound at a figure which was signalling wildly from the highest point. Tredgold and Stobell, approaching the side, waved their handkerchiefs in response.
“We must go back for them,” said Mr. Chalk, firmly.
“What! in this wind, sir?” inquired Brisket, with an indulgent laugh. “You’re too much of a sailor to think that’s possible, I’m sure; and it’s going to last.”