And
then, all at once, Tammy's blue-light went out, and there came, what
seemed by contrast, pitchy darkness. I stood where I was--one foot on
the rail and my knee upon the sheerpole. The light from my lantern
seemed no more than a sickly yellow glow against the gloom, and higher,
some forty or fifty feet, and a few ratlines below the futtock rigging
on the starboard side, there was another glow of yellowness in the
night. Apart from these, all was blackness. And then from above--high
above--there wailed down through the darkness a weird, sobbing cry. What
it was, I do not know; but it sounded horrible. The Skipper's voice came down, jerkily. "Smartly with that light, boy!" he shouted. And the blue glare blazed
out again, almost before he had finished speaking. I stared up at the Skipper. He was standing where I had seen him before
the light went out, and so were the two men. As I looked, he commenced
to climb again. I glanced across to starboard. Jaskett, and the other
man in the Mate's watch, were about midway between the deck of the house
and the foretop. Their faces showed extraordinary pale in the dead glare
of the blue-light. Higher, I saw the Second Mate in the futtock rigging,
holding his light up over the edge of the top. Then he went further, and
disappeared. The man with the blue-lights followed, and also vanished
from view. On the port side, and more directly above me, the Skipper's
feet were just stepping out of the futtock shrouds. At that I made haste
to follow. Then, suddenly, when I was close under the top, there came from above me
the sharp flare of a blue-light, and almost in the same instant, Tammy's
went out. I glanced down at the decks. They were filled with flickering, grotesque
shadows cast by the dripping light above. A group of the men stood by
the port galley door--their faces upturned and pale and unreal under the
gleam of the light. Then I was in the futtock rigging, and a moment afterwards, standing in
the top, beside the Old Man. He was shouting to the men who had gone out
on the craneline. It seemed that the man on the port side was bungling;
but at last--nearly a minute after the other man had lit his flare--he
got going. In that time, the man in the top had lit his second
blue-light, and we were ready to get into the topmast rigging. First,
however, the Skipper leant over the afterside of the top, and sung out
to the First Mate to send a man up on to the fo'cas'le head with a
flare. The Mate replied, and then we started again, the Old Man leading. Fortunately, the rain had ceased, and there seemed to be no increase in
the wind; indeed, if anything, there appeared to be rather less; yet
what there was drove the flames of the flare-ups out into occasional,
twisting serpents of fire at least a yard long. About half-way up the topmast rigging, the Second Mate sung out to the
Skipper, to know whether Plummer should light his flare; but the Old Man
said he had better wait until we reached the crosstrees, as then he
could get out away from the gear to where there would be less danger of
setting fire to anything. We neared the crosstrees, and the Old Man stopped and sung out to me to
pass him the lantern by Quoin. A few ratlines more, and both he and the
Second Mate stopped almost simultaneously, holding their lanterns as
high as possible, and peered up into the darkness. "See any signs of him, Mr. Tulipson?" the Old Man asked. "No, Sir," replied the Second. "Not a sign." He raised his voice. "Stubbins," he sung out. "Stubbins, are you there?" We listened; but nothing came to us beyond the blowing moan of the wind,
and the flap, flap of the bellying t'gallant above. The Second Mate climbed over the crosstrees, and Plummer followed. The
man got out by the royal backstay, and lit his flare. By its light we
could see, plainly; but there was no vestige of Stubbins, so far as the
light went. "Get out on to the yard-arms with those flares, you two men," shouted
the Skipper. "Be smart now! Keep them away from the sail!" The men got on to the foot-ropes--Quoin on the port, and Jaskett on the
starboard side. By the light from Plummer's flare, I could see them
clearly, as they lay out upon the yard. It occurred to me that they went
gingerly--which is no surprising thing. And then, as they drew near to
the yard-arms, they passed beyond the brilliance of the light; so that I
could not see them clearly. A few seconds passed, and then the light
from Quoin's flare streamed out upon the wind; yet nearly a minute went
by, and there was no sign of Jaskett's. Then out from the semi-darkness at the starboard yard-arm, there came a
curse from Jaskett, followed almost immediately by a noise of something
vibrating. "What's up?" shouted the Second Mate. "What's up, Jaskett?" "It's ther foot-rope, Sir-r-r!" he drew out the last word into a sort of
gasp. The Second Mate bent quickly, with the lantern. I craned round the after
side of the top-mast, and looked. "What is the matter, Mr. Tulipson?" I heard the Old Man singing out. Out on the yard-arm, Jaskett began to shout for help, and then, all at
once, in the light from the Second Mate's lantern, I saw that the
starboard foot-rope on the upper topsail yard was being violently
shaken--savagely shaken, is perhaps a better word. And then, almost in
the same instant, the Second Mate shifted the lantern from his right to
his left hand. He put the right into his pocket and brought out his gun
with a jerk. He extended his hand and arm, as though pointing at
something a little below the yard. Then a quick flash spat out across
the shadows, followed immediately by a sharp, ringing crack. In the same
moment, I saw that the foot-rope ceased to shake. "Light your flare! Light your flare, Jaskett!" the Second shouted. "Be
smart now!" Out at the yard-arm there came a splutter of a match, and then,
straightaway, a great spurt of fire as the flare took light. "That's better, Jaskett. You're all right now!" the Second Mate called
out to him. "What was it, Mr. Tulipson?" I heard the Skipper ask. I looked up, and saw that he had sprung across to where the Second Mate
was standing. The Second Mate explained to him; but he did not speak
loud enough for me to catch what he said. I had been struck by Jaskett's attitude, when the light of his flare had
first revealed him. He had been crouched with his right knee cocked over
the yard, and his left leg down between it and the foot-rope, while his
elbows had been crooked over the yard for support, as he was lighting
the flare. Now, however, he had slid both feet back on to the foot-rope,
and was lying on his belly, over the yard, with the flare held a little
below the head of the sail. It was thus, with the light being on the
foreside of the sail, that I saw a small hole a little below the
foot-rope, through which a ray of the light shone. It was undoubtedly
the hole which the bullet from the Second Mate's revolver had made in
the sail. Then I heard the Old Man shouting to Jaskett.