Skull and Bones

Chapter 13

In the dark, heaving night, Mr Braddock the musician — he who knew Flint for what he was — found it hard to see who was waiting for him on the fo'c'sle. Bounder was well named, for while she was extremely fast, no man would have called her comfortable. So Braddock hung on to the pinrails when he could, and staggered from one handhold to another when he couldn't, and tried not to notice the enormous gleaming waves that rose and sank on either side of the rushing ship.

"Ah!" he thought, seeing a wet, glistening figure crouched by the foremast. He glanced behind and around himself. There must be lookouts in the tops, and men at the helm, but he couldn't see any of them: only the sodden decks and whatever tackles and gear he'd got his hands on at any given moment.

"Wheeeeeep!" A soft whistle came from the dark figure. Braddock waved his arm. The figure waved back. He got closer… and closer… with the ship working under his feet, and himself trembling all the while, for he'd never become much of a seaman, and tonight he was afraid of perils worse than the sea.

"Mr Braddock!" said the figure.

"Welles?" said the musician.

"Aye, sir!"

Reassured, he got himself right next to Welles, who was one of the marines, a straight and decent fellow who detested Flint as much as Braddock did, and who had promised to share information that would bring the villain to justice: information to be imparted at this secret meeting. Braddock looked at Welles's face. The marine appeared nervous and kept glancing about, which was hardly surprising.

"Did anyone see you come forrard?" asked Welles.

"No," said Braddock, and the marine looked over his shoulder and groaned. Braddock had a sudden moment of fright. Why wouldn't Welles look him in the eye? What if… "Uuuuch!" said Braddock. "Uch! Uch! Uch!" And his eyes popped and his face darkened and his tongue stuck out, and he kicked and fought with the superhuman strength that nature gives to a man who is being strangled.

But it did him no good. The silent figure that had risen behind him had thrown a two-foot length of log-line over Braddock's head, hands crossed to form a loop of it, and a neat wooden toggle made fast to each end of the line. With the toggles gripped firmly in two strong hands, Braddock's efforts to free himself served only to throttle him all the quicker, the thin line crushing his larynx and trachea, and biting deep into flesh to nip the great pumping vessels that fed the brain.

"Ah!" said Flint softly, as Braddock suddenly went limp and hung heavily in the embrace of the cord. It looked as if a sorely troubled heart had given up the struggle and stopped beating. But Flint hung on, just to be sure, just to be safe and only let Braddock fall when his arms could take the strain no more.

Flint looked up. He saw Welles's face and almost laughed. Mr Welles had proved susceptible to an offer of gold, but now he'd seen actual murder, he was clearly regretting it.

"Quick!" said Flint. "Over the side with him!"

"Over the side?"

"Yes! Or perhaps we should take him home to his mother? What do you think?"

Welles groaned again, but set to, and with Flint's help heaved Braddock over the side. The dark body went in without a splash.

"Now, follow me," commanded Flint. "You must be paid!"

"Aye-aye, sir," said Welles, cheering up at the prospect, and the two men groped forward to the bowsprit that stood out over the white water as it gushed and foamed and threw up a constant heavy wetting. In the dim starlight, their slick-wet, tar- coated garments gleamed like sea-lions, and they hung on hard, for the ship's motion was especially severe right up at the bow.

"Come closer," said Flint. "I don't want to shout!"

"Aye-aye, sir."

"No — closer!"

Welles came right next to Flint so that their heads were almost touching. Then: "Back off a little," said Flint. "Give us room."

"Us, Cap'n?"

"Us!" said Flint as Billy Bones's cord flickered over Welles's head, and that straight and decent fellow began his choking. He sprayed spittle in all directions and — being a man with horny fingernails — he clawed blood all round the line that bit into his flesh as he shook with mighty convulsions. But like Mr Braddock he soon fell silent, and Billy Bones dropped him over the bow to be pounded, scraped and over-ridden by the speeding ship.

After their exertions, Flint and Bones crouched silent by the bowsprit for a while. Then Flint threw his strangling-line into the sea and motioned for Bones to do the same.

"Come!" said Flint, when he'd got his breath back, for even he didn't strangle a man entirely without disturbance to his inner peace. As for Billy Bones, he was drowning in a whirlpool of horror and guilt, and his hands shook like a drunkard's.

The two men groped their way back to the small quarterdeck, where the watch was on duty, having seen nothing and heard nothing, for the night was dark and the sea was loud. The watch saluted Flint, and he acknowledged them. Then Captain Flint and Lieutenant Bones straightened their backs — as British officers should — and went to stand beside the weather rail.

"Well, Lieutenant," said Flint, "that removes the lesser threat. And I have taken measures to ensure that the greater one stays nicely asleep."

"How's that, Cap'n?"

"I'm dosing Mr Povey with laudanum… to ease his pain." "Ah!"

"But I think we must now face the truth."

"Truth, Cap'n?"

"We are bound for England, Billy-boy; I can enter two men as 'lost over the side' in the ship's books, but not many more. We must keep up the pretence of being in the king's service, or we'll find ourselves back in irons again." He shook his head regretfully. "Alas, not all aboard are completely stupid!"

"So we're bound for England, Cap'n?"

"Bound for England — and God knows what we shall find there!"

Given the blessing of easy seas and good weather, Miss Cooper and Miss Henderson stood wrapped in their cloaks on the quarterdeck in the soft evening. It was nearly dark, and the light gleamed from the binnacle into the faces of the men at the wheel, with more light shining up from the skylights of the cabins below. The ladies were talking about the usual subject, for Miss Cooper was endlessly persistent.

"Cannot you see how advantageous it would be, my dear?" she said.

"To become an actress?" said Miss Henderson.

"Yes! You were born for it, believe me."

"But I've never seen a play, or been to a theatre."

"Then trust me — I know every theatre in London and all the managers."

"But how can I remember all those words?"

"Bah! The audience will want to look at you, not listen! Half the actresses in London fake their lines." Katty laughed. "Well, the beauties do, anyway!"

Selena sighed. The truth was that she didn't know what she wanted, nor whether she'd done the right thing in leaving John Silver. She knew only that she thought about him every day, and every night. As for the theatre: the idea of standing up in front of thousands of people and pretending… acting … It sounded terrifying, and she shuddered and shook her head.

"Oh dear," said Katty Cooper, with trembling lower lip. "I do hope you shall not disappoint me. For I am quite alone in the world…"

Selena looked at her. Katty, utterly feminine as always, had adopted her pleading look: a tragic expression of innocence wounded. On those rare occasions when people refused to do her bidding, she invariably resorted not to anger but tears, and her helpless, pretty, tear-stained little face became an iron lever that she pulled without mercy, to crush the will of others and force them to her bidding. For Katty was a woman who saw her own point of view with such blinding clarity that she was unaware, even, that others had feelings.

"Hmm," thought Selena, for she was beginning to understand Katty Cooper. But… on the other hand… Katty had been extremely helpful in enabling Selena to be accepted aboard this ship. It was thanks to Katty that nobody now paid any mind to the fact that Selena had come aboard with no story to explain what she'd been doing among pirates. Katty had taken Selena's vague mumblings in response to questions about her past and enlarged upon them with remarkable skill, such that Selena now had a surname and a family — not her real family, who had been left behind on the Delacroix plantation — but a pretend family invented by Katty Cooper, and a sad tale of how she lost them when pirates stormed a merchant ship, slaying all aboard but herself. Even Captain Fitch had shed a tear when Katty told that one.

Selena sighed. What did she want? Even being an actress couldn't be as bad as some of the things that had happened to her aboard Flint's ship… and Long John's…

"Ah!" thought Katty Cooper, reading the signs. She turned off the mask of tragedy and took Selena's face in her hands.

"Listen to me, my beautiful creature," she said, looking Selena in the eye. "If you follow me I will promise you wealth beyond your dreams. You shall never want! You shall never be afraid! The world shall court you and adore you. You shall make towers of guineas and roll… you shall roll… in strings of diamonds."

Katty Cooper managed — just — not to say "roll naked in strings of diamonds", something which gentlemen never failed to appreciate.

"Shall I?" said Selena.

"Oh yes!"

Selena shrugged. In the absence of a better offer, that didn't seem too bad. And there were no better offers available. In fact, there were no other offers. Not one. So she smiled. Perhaps she might be an actress after all.

And Katty Cooper smiled, too, pleased that the theatre was such useful bait, and a subject of which she knew so much, since she had indeed been an actress herself… until superior opportunities presented. Her tales of the London stage would do to keep Selena happy for now, and in time she would learn as Katty Cooper had learned.

"So let us be happy, my dear," she said. "We are bound for England!"

Yes, thought Selena. Bound for England and the stage. And who knows where that might lead?

So determined were the hands to hang Norton that, when Silver spoke up for him, Tom Allardyce — white-faced in rage — drew steel and rushed at Silver from behind and swung a blow aimed at splitting his head to the chin.

Which gave Norton his chance. As the two men holding his arms flinched at Allardyce's charge, Norton wrenched himself free, struck left and right with his elbows, smashed a fist into the nose of one who still hung on, then sprang forward to grapple Allardyce from the side in full run, throwing him skidding over, with Norton biting flesh to the bone of the wrist that held the cutlass, and punching with a hard right hand into the soft meat between Allardyce's thighs.

"Aaaaargh!" shrieked Allardyce, then "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" as Norton spat out his wrist, took his head by the ears, and slammed it three times into the deck, before leaping up, kicking away the cutlass, and slamming a boot repeatedly and with mighty force into Allardyce's kidneys until he was dragged off by his victim's mates.

"Bastard!" they screamed.

"Gut him!"

"Chop him!"

There was a rush for the quarterdeck companionways, but:

Bang! Bang! Silver let off a pair of pistols into the air, while Israel Hands, Mr Joe and Black Dog instantly lined up alongside him and drew weapons and levelled them at the mob.

"'Ware the buggers!" cried the crew, and two or three dozen firelocks were made ready and aimed. Anger was rampant: it scorched the decks, it addled their brains until mass, mutual slaughter was a second away.

"Hold hard there!" cried Long John, yelling above all others. "And blind the bastard with red-hot irons who fires on his own shipmates!"

"Arrrrrrrgh!" they growled, but they stopped.

"Captain!" cried McLonarch, stepping forward. "May I say…"

"NO, YOU MAY NOT!" roared Silver in uttermost rage. "By God and all his bleedin' angels you've had your whack, my son, and now it's my turn!" He appealed to the hands: "Ain't that fair, brothers?"

"Aye!" roared Israel Hands, Mr Joe and Black Dog.

"Aye," said others, but with bad grace.

"So!" cried Silver, pointing to Norton. "You're set to hang him, are you?"

"Aye!" they screamed and shook their fists in the air.

"Shiver my timbers," said Silver, "if that don't beat all for piss-brain-pleased-with-shit-head-stupid!"

"What?" they said.

"D'you not see?" he cried. "Norton's the only bugger aboard what's fit to plot a course! We're all fo'c'sle hands as can steer a course, but who's to set one? Who's to labour with quadrant and dividers?"

"Oh!" they said, even McLonarch, who'd not thought of that.

"Ah!" cried Silver, seeing the change. "Or maybe I'm wrong? Maybe you swabs is happy with miscalculations and endin' up lost in the ocean on a spoonful of water a day?"

They were not. The anger ran out and the guilt ran in.

"So," said Silver, "make safe them barkers! Stick 'em where they'll do the most good… and then listen to me!"

There followed a shame-faced clicking of guns being set to half-cock. Then all hands — and the McLonarch — looked up at Silver.

"Here's my word in the matter," he said. "It's Dr Cowdray's plan for me! So him there — " he pointed at Norton "- is rated first mate. And him there — " he pointed at McLonarch "- is rated ship's guest, and neither to bear arms nor strike the other, nor any man to take their part… until we reach England, and there a full council of brothers will decide what we shall do with 'em!"

There was silence. Silver looked at Israel Hands.

"All show for Brother Silver!" cried Israel Hands, and he, Mr Joe, Black Dog, Dr Cowdray, Blind Pew and others instantly voted for Silver. Then, slowly… first one hand went up… then another… and another… until a good majority showed.

"All against?" said Israel Hands.

No hand was raised.

And that was it. The ship returned to normal and arms were put away. Silver wiped the sweat from his brow, Israel Hands and Mr Joe clapped him on the back and smiled, and Cap'n Flint the parrot rubbed her head lovingly against his cheek. She was a great comfort at such times.

"You're the boy, John!" said Israel Hands admiringly. "Ain't none like you!"

"Aye!" said all who heard.

But later, Silver spoke privately both with Norton, whom he liked, and the McLonarch, whom he detested. He told each that he would take his part when they reached England. For Silver was desperate to save his lady and didn't know who he might need on his side, so he played both ends against the middle. And that wasn't the old John Silver. That wasn't him any more. That was something new.

In his cabin, alone with a bottle of rum and Cap'n Flint, he sighed and tickled the parrot's beautiful green plumes.

"We're bound for England, my girl," he said. "And God knows what we'll find there!"