The Survivors of the Chancellor by Verne, Jules

Shortly afterward M. Letourneur and Andre came on deck. The young man enjoyed the early morning air, laden with its briny fragrance, and I assisted him to mount the poop. In answer to my inquiry as to whether they had been disturbed by any bustle in the night, Andre replied that he did not wake at all, and had heard nothing.

“I am glad, my boy,” said the father, “that you have slept so soundly. I heard the noise of which Mr. Kazallon speaks. It must have been about three o’clock this morning, and it seemed to me as though they were shouting. I thought I heard them say; ‘Here, quick, look to the hatches!’ but as nobody was called up, I presumed that nothing serious was the matter.”

As he spoke I cast my eye at the panel-slides, which fore and aft of the main-mast open into the hold. They seemed to be all close as usual, but I now observed for the first time that they were covered with heavy tarpauling. Wondering in my own mind what could be the reason for these extra precautions I did not say anything to M. Letourneur, but determined to wait until the mate should come on watch, when he would doubtless give me, I thought, an explanation of the mystery.

The sun rose gloriously, with every promise of a fine dry day. The waning moon was yet above the western horizon, for as it still wants three days to her last quarter she does not set until 10:57 A. M. On consulting my almanac, I find that there will be a new moon on the 24th, and that on that day, little as it may affect us here in mid-ocean, the phenomenon of the high sygyzian tides will take place on the shores of every continent and island.

At the breakfast hour M. Letourneur and Andre went below for a cup of tea, and I remained on the poop alone. As I expected, Curtis appeared, that he might relieve Lieutenant Walter of the watch. I advanced to meet him, but before he even wished me good morning, I saw him cast a quick and searching glance upon the deck, and then, with a slightly contracted brow, proceed to examine the state of the weather and the trim of the sails.

“Where is Captain Huntly?” he said to Walter.

“I have seen nothing of him,” answered the lieutenant; “is there anything fresh up?”

“Nothing whatever,” was the curt reply.

They then conversed for a few moments in an undertone, and I could see that Walter by his gesture gave a negative answer to some question which the mate had asked him. “Send me the boatswain, Walter,” said Curtis aloud as the lieutenant moved away.

The boatswain immediately appeared, and another conversation was carried on in whispers. The man repeatedly shook his head as he replied to Curtis’s inquiries, and then, in obedience to orders, called the men who were on watch, and made them plentifully water the tarpauling that covered the great hatchway.

Curious to fathom the mystery I went up to Curtis and began to talk with him upon ordinary topics, hoping that he would himself introduce the subject that was uppermost in my mind; finding, however, that he did not allude to it, I asked him point blank:

“What was the matter in the night, Curtis?”

He looked at me steadily, but made no reply.

“What was it?” I repeated. “M. Letourneur and myself were both of us disturbed by a very unusual commotion overhead.”

“Oh, a mere nothing,” he said at length; “the man at the helm had made a false move, and we had to pipe hands to brace the ship a bit; but it was soon all put to rights. It was nothing, nothing at all.”

I said no more; but I can not resist the impression that Robert Curtis has not acted with me in his usual straight-forward manner.

CHAPTER VIII

FIRE ON BOARD

OCTOBER 15 to October 18. — The wind is still in the northeast. There is no change in the Chancellor’s course, and to an unprejudiced eye all would appear to be going on as usual. But I have an uneasy consciousness that something is not quite right. Why should the hatchways be so hermetically closed as though a mutinous crew was imprisoned between decks? I can not help thinking too that there is something in the sailors so constantly standing in groups and breaking off their talk so suddenly whenever we approach; and several times I have caught the word “hatches” which arrested M. Letourneur’s attention on the night of the disturbance.

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