Outward Bound Or, Young America Afloat: A Story of Travel and Adventure by Optic (book recommendations for young adults .TXT) 📖

and go through the signs with them, while the "outsiders," scattered about the deck, stood watching the motions with intense delight. He would fain have fled, but he could not leave the deck; and he was afraid that any impatience, or a refusal to {310} answer the signs, would involve him in a worse difficulty.

At last the nine illegal voters had "made themselves known," and having requested that their votes might be changed, Shuffles was released from torture. He was both alarmed and indignant. He had not been able to ascertain what was meant by "the orator of the day;" and he began to fear that Pelham had exposed the whole, or a part, of the real purposes of the League. He was enraged that he had revealed anything. Even the captain and the second lieutenant had made all the signs, and they could not have done so without the assistance of a traitor.

"It's all up with us, Wilton," said Shuffles, as they met near the foremast.

"What is?"

"Pelham has blowed the whole thing."

"No!" exclaimed Wilton, almost paralyzed by the information.

"He has. The captain and several of the officers made all the signs to me just now. We shall spend our time in the brig for the next month."

"Did Pelham do it?"

"Yes."

"That was mean," added Wilton, his face pale with terror.

"He will fall overboard accidentally some day," added Shuffles, shaking his head.

"Don't do that, Shuffles," protested the frightened confederate.

"I will, if I get a chance." {311}

"You will only make the matter ten times worse than it is."

Monroe joined them, and was informed of the desperate situation of the League.

"It's all your fault, Shuffles," said Monroe, indignantly "I don't blame Pelham."

"You don't! He has told a dozen outsiders how to make the signs, and let them into the secrets of the Chain, for all I know."

"If he has, we may thank you for it, Shuffles. You cheated him, and played a mean trick upon him," replied Monroe. "I wouldn't have stood it if I had been he."

"Pelham is a traitor, and you are another."

"No matter what he is, or what I am. You got all those fellows to vote for you, and cheated him out of the place that belonged to him."

"Did you think I was going to have him captain, after I had got up the Chain, and done all the work?"

"You agreed to leave it out to the fellows who should be captain. They voted, and you cheated," added Monroe. "I've had enough of the Chain; and if any fellow makes the signs again, I shall not notice them."

"Humph! It's a pretty time to talk so, after the whole thing is let out."

"Well, I will face the music, and get out of it the best way I can. I was a fool to join the Chain."

"So was I," said Wilton.

There was no difficulty in arriving at such a conclusion after the affair had been exposed; and the sentiments of Wilton and Monroe were, or would {312} soon be, the sentiments of all the members of the League. Shuffles realized the truth of the old adage, that rats desert a sinking ship, and he began to feel lonely in his guilt and his fear of exposure. But he could not forgive Pelham for his perfidy, forgetting that each had been treacherous to the other.

In the first dog watch on that day, while Shuffles' heart was still rankling with hatred towards the alleged traitor, the rivals met in the waist, which was common ground to officers off duty and seamen.

"I want to see you, Pelham," said Shuffles, in a low tone.

"Well, you do see me—don't you?" laughed Pelham who, feeling that he was now even with his rival, was in excellent humor.

"Things are going wrong with us."

"O, no; I think not."

"Will you meet me on the top-gallant forecastle, where we shall not be disturbed?" asked Shuffles.

"That is not exactly the place for an officer."

"You are off duty, and you can go where you please."

"What do you want of me?"

"I want to have an understanding."

"I suppose you think we have too many members—don't you?" asked Pelham, lightly.

"The more the better."

"I'll meet you there."

Shuffles went to the place designated at once, where he was soon followed by the fourth lieutenant.

"Well, Shuffles, what is it?" demanded Pelham, as, with one hand on the sheet of the fore-topmast {313} staysail, he looked over the bow at the bone in the teeth of the ship.

"What is it? Don't you know what it is?" replied Shuffles, angrily.

"Upon my life, I don't know."

"You have been a traitor," exclaimed Shuffles, with savage earnestness.

"O! have I?"

"You know you have."

"Perhaps you would be willing to tell me wherein I have been a traitor," added Pelham, laughing; for he was enjoying the scene he had witnessed in the waist, when, one after another, the "outsiders" had made the signs to his rival.

"You have betrayed the secrets of the Chain."

"Have I?"

"Didn't you give the signs to Paul Kendall, the captain, and half a dozen others?"

"But, my dear fellow, they are members," replied Pelham, chuckling.

"They are not? and you know they are not."

"But, Shuffles, just consider that all of them voted for you."

"I don't care for that."

"I do. You recognized them as members first, and I couldn't do less than you did."

"You are a traitor!" said Shuffles, red in the face with passion; and the word hissed through his closed teeth.

"Well, just as you like: we won't quarrel about the meaning of words," replied Pelham, gayly; for he enjoyed the discomfiture of his rival, and felt that {314} Shuffles deserved all he got, for the foul play of which he had been guilty on the ballot.

"You pledged yourself to be honest, and stand by the vote, fair or foul."

"Very true, my dear fellow? and I do so. Give me your orders, and I will obey them."

"But you have exposed the whole thing," retorted Shuffles. "What can we do now, when Kendall and the captain know all about it?"

"They don't know any more than the law allows. Besides, they are members. Didn't they vote for you? Didn't they know beans?" continued Pelham, in the most tantalizing of tones.

"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Shuffles, unable to control his rage.

"Not I. I respect you too much. You are the captain—that is to be—of the ship," laughed Pelham. "The captain, the second lieutenant, and all the flunkies, voted for you? and, of course, I couldn't be so deficient in politeness as to insult one who——"

At that moment Pelham removed his hand from the sheet, and Shuffles, irritated beyond control at the badinage of his companion, gave him a sudden push, and the fourth lieutenant went down into the surges, under the bow of the ship.

As Pelham disappeared beneath the waves, Shuffles was appalled at his own act; for even he had not sunk so low as to contemplate murder. The deed was not premeditated. It was done on the spur of angry excitement, which dethroned his reason. The chief conspirator had so often and so lightly used the language of the League, about "falling overboard acci {315}dentally," that he had become familiar with the idea; and, perhaps, the deed seemed less terrible to him than it really was. When the act was done, on the impulse of the moment, he realized his own situation, and that of his victim. He would have given anything at that instant, as he looked down upon the dark waves, to have recalled the deed; but it was too late. Self-reproach and terror overwhelmed him.

"Man overboard!" he shouted with desperation, as he threw off his pea-jacket, and dived, head foremost, from the forecastle into the sea.

His first impulse had been to do a foul deed; his next, to undo it. Shuffles was a powerful swimmer. The ocean was his element. He struck the water hardly an instant after Pelham; and the ship, which was under all sail, making nine knots, hurried on her course, leaving the rivals to buffet the waves unaided.

"Man overboard!" cried officers and seamen, on all parts of the ship's deck.

"Hard down the helm, quartermaster! Let go the life-buoys!" shouted Kendall, who was the officer of the deck.

"Hard down, sir. Buoy overboard," replied Bennington the quartermaster at the helm.

"Clear away the third cutter!" added Kendall.

The orders were rapidly given for backing the main-topsail, while the courses were clewed up; but the ship went on a considerable distance before her headway could be arrested.

When Pelham went down into the water, he had been injured by the fall; and though he struck out to save himself, it was not with his usual skill and vigor; {316} for, like his companion in the water, he was a good swimmer. Shuffles had struck the waves in proper attitude, and was in condition to exert all his powers when he came to the surface. He swam towards Pelham, intent upon rendering him the assistance he might require.

"Do you mean to drown me?" gasped Pelham, who supposed his rival had followed him overboard for the purpose of completing his work.

"I mean to save you, Pelham," replied Shuffles. "Can you swim?"

"I'm hurt."

"Give me your hand, and I will support you."

Shuffles took the offered hand of Pelham, who was able to swim a little, and supported him till they could reach the life-buoy, which had been dropped from the stern of the ship when the alarming cry was given.

"Where are you hurt?" asked Shuffles, as soon as they had grasped the buoy.

"My stomach struck the water," replied Pelham, faintly.

The third cutter had been lowered into the water as soon as the ship's headway was stopped, and was now within a few yards of the buoy.

"Will you forgive me, Pelham? I was beside myself," said Shuffles, when his companion had recovered breath after his exertions.

"You have saved me, Shuffles. I should have gone down without you."

"Will you forgive me?" pleaded the penitent. "I did not mean to injure you." {317}

"Never mind it; we won't say a word about it," answered Pelham, as the boat came up.

They were assisted into the cutter, and the oarsmen pulled back to the ship. When the party reached the deck, a cheer burst from a portion of the crew; but Wilton, Monroe, and a few others, believing that Pelham had "fallen overboard accidentally," were appalled at the probable consequences of the event.

Pelham was assisted to the after cabin, where Dr. Winstock immediately attended him. He was not seriously injured; and the next day he was able to be on deck, and do duty.

"How was that?" asked Wilton, when Shuffles had changed his clothes, and warmed himself at the stove, as they met in the waist.

Shuffles looked sad and solemn. He made no reply.

"Did he fall overboard accidentally?" demanded Wilton.

"Don't ask me."

"You jumped in after him, and saved him, they say," added Wilton; "so, I suppose, it was really an accident."

Shuffles still made no reply.

CHAPTER XX.

{318}

THE END OF THE CHAIN LEAGUE.

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The fact that Shuffles had plunged into the sea, and labored so effectively for the rescue of the fourth lieutenant, blinded the eyes of "our fellows," who, knowing the penalty of treachery to the "Chain," might otherwise have suspected that he had "fallen overboard accidentally," or, in other words, that he had been pushed into the water by his unscrupulous rival. Wilton, Monroe, and Adler, had discussed the matter, and reached the conclusion that Pelham had been knocked over by the shaking of the staysail sheet, or that he had really fallen accidentally. They had been appalled and horrified by the event; and those who were disgusted with the League were not disposed to betray its secrets; for it was possible, though not probable, that the mishap which had befallen Pelham was an incident in the history of the "Chain."

When a wicked man or a wicked boy exceeds his average wickedness, the excess sometimes produces a moral reaction. A person who tipples moderately may have the drunkard's fate vividly foreshadowed to him by getting absolutely drunk himself, and thus be induced to abandon a dangerous practice. That {319} loathsome disease, small pox, sometimes leaves the patient better than it finds him; and through, and on account of, the vilest sin may come the sinner's reformation.

Shuffles had exceeded himself in wickedness; and the fact that his foul design was not even suspected by any other person than his intended victim did not diminish his self-reproaches. He shuddered when he thought of the remorse which must have gnawed his soul during the rest of his lifetime if Pelham had been drowned. He would have been a murderer; and while so many knew the penalty of treachery to the League, he could hardly have escaped suspicion and detection.

A reaction had been produced in his mind; but it was not a healthy movement of the moral nature. It was not so much the awful crime he had impulsively committed, as the terrible consequences which would have followed, that caused him to shrink from it. It was an awful crime, and his nature revolted