All order and authority were completely
lost, in the instinct of life. In vain did Ludlow call on his men to be
cool, and to wait for those who were still above. His words were lost, in
the uproar of clamorous voices. For a moment, it seemed, however, as if
the Skimmer of the Seas would overcome the confusion. Throwing himself on
a ladder, he glided into the bows of one of the boats, and, holding by the
ropes with a vigorous arm, he resisted the efforts of all the oars and
boat-hooks, while he denounced destruction on him who dared to quit the
ship. Had not the two crews been mingled, the high authority and
determined mien of the free-trader would have prevailed; but while some
were disposed to obey, others raised the cry of "throw the dealer in
witchcraft into the sea!"--Boat-hooks were already pointed at his breast,
and the horrors of the fearful moment were about to be increased by the
violence of a mutinous contention, when a second explosion nerved the arms
of the rowers to madness. With a common and desperate effort, they
overcame all resistance. Swinging off upon the ladder, the furious seaman
saw the boat glide from his grasp, and depart. The execration that was
uttered, beneath the stern of the Coquette, was deep and powerful; but, in
another moment, the Skimmer stood on the poop, calm and undejected, in the
centre of the deserted group.
"The explosion of a few of the officers' pistols has frightened the
miscreants;" he said, cheerfully "But hope is not yet lost!--they linger
in the distance, and may return!"
The sight of the helpless party on the poop, and the consciousness of
being less exposed themselves, had indeed arrested the progress of the
fugitives.
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