Part 43 (1/2)

”Well?” asked Jacob Flint. ”When does the game begin?”

”The game is just started,” said Hall, ”an' the sun will do the rest.

I've cut off his eyelids!”

They stared a moment in amazement, and then an understanding broke on them. Every tribe of savages in the world has been accredited with this ingenious torture which blinded their victim and usually drove him mad.

The sun was now climbing the sky rapidly, and already fell on the face of the mate. The tropic sun which scorches and burns the toughest of skins was now directed full on the pupils of his eyes.

The sailors sought comfortable positions and waited for a long exhibition of pain, but they were mistaken. The torture acted far more quickly than even the whip. There was no outcry. Not once during his struggles did Van Roos make a sound from his throat, save for a quick, heavy panting. Perhaps by contrast with the yells of Borgson, which were still in the ears of the men, this silence was more horrible than the most throat-filling shrieks. They could see Van Roos twisting his head ceaselessly and vainly to escape that blinding light. His ruddy face became swollen like the features of a drowned man. And that was all that happened--only that, and the panting, the quick, choppy panting like a running man. Finally one of the sailors rose with a mallet in his hand.

”Where you goin'?” asked Hall ominously.

”Going to finish him.”

Hall caught the fellow's arm.

”Listen!” he whispered, and such was the silence that the hoa.r.s.e whisper was audible all over the deck. ”Don't you hear?”

And with one hand he kept beat for the quick breaths of the tortured man. At that moment there was a long sigh, and the breathing stopped.

Hall strode angrily forward to his victim, but when he reached the hatch, Van Roos was dead. A blood vessel must have burst in his brain, and death was as instantaneous as though a bullet had struck him. So they cut him free, and his body followed that of Borgson over the rail.

Then the eyes of the mutineers turned aft toward the wireless house, and then back upon Campbell. Six victims remained. One of the firemen slipped close to Hovey on naked feet. He did not speak, but his long, thin arm pointed toward the engineer.

”Not yet,” said Hovey, ”not yet! Tomorrow if he doesn't give in, we'll turn you loose on him.”

The fireman grinned and went back on noiseless feet to his companions to spread the good tidings. Hovey approached the wireless house.

”We've got one show left to offer, but we're savin' it till tomorrow,”

he said. ”So brace up, hearties, and keep cheer. You'll see Campbell go a way worse than either of these tomorrow.”

”Wait,” called Harrigan, suddenly roused. ”D'you mean to say that you'd try your h.e.l.lwork on a kind man like Campbell?”

”A kind man like Campbell?” echoed Hovey, and then laughed. ”A kind man?”

And he retreated with no other answer, and left the fugitives aft to the merciless, sweltering heat of the sun. By the time the sun went down, they were so fevered by the need of water that they had not the strength to bless the cool falling of the dark; they still carried the fire of the sunlight in their blood.

CHAPTER 36

”This man Campbell,” said Harrigan, ”he's a true man, McTee, and he stood up to White Henshaw for my sake--for the sake of me and his Bobbie Burns. They plan to take him to h.e.l.l tomorrow, Angus, and I've an idea that there's one chance in the thousand that I could steal in on the dogs tonight and bring him back with me.”

”Can they do anything worse to him than they're doing to us?”

”Maybe not, but my heart would lie easier, McTee. I'll wait for the fever o' the sun to go out of me head an' for the crew to get drunk an'

a little drunker.”

So they waited while the noise of the nightly carousal waxed high and higher, and then died away by slow degrees. At length Harrigan stood up, gripped the hand of McTee in silent farewell, heard a whispered ”Good luck!” and slipped noiselessly down the ladder and started across the deck in the shadow of the rail. From any portion of the main cabin eyes might be watching him; there was only the one chance in ten that the lookout whom Hovey had certainly stationed would not perceive him as he crept along under the shadow. Accordingly he went blindly forward.