A coughing scramble amid the smoke; a trampling of hasty feet; a surge of eager, half-naked bodies up the wide companion, up from smoke and gloom, out into blinding sunglare, to pause a moment with dazzled eyes and then to behold a dreadful sight of prone bodies trampled on blood-spattered deck by men who fought desperately, thrusting and hewing at wild figures that swarmed the bulwarks, a howling fury of attack. And into this merciless battle leapt John Fenn followed by his smoke-grimed gun crews, and with them Adam.... Cut and parry and darting thrust, blow on blow until arm wearied and breath failed.
Somewhere in the reeling press Adam heard Bo'sun Ned's hoarse bellow, and fighting thitherward, glimpsed him at last, a ghastly figure of slaughter plying great axe with terrible effect. Cut and parry and darting thrust until, loud above the raving din, rose Absalom's breathless but right jubilant cry:
"By God ... we have 'em! To it, lads ... at 'em, old seadogs, point and edge ... sa-ha!"
A breathless cheer ... clash of random steel ... a vision of Sir Benjamin's plump visage pale now and agonized ... a tall figure that choked horridly and went down.... Then Adam was hurled backwards ... was kicked, trampled, felt pain, felt sickness ... felt—nothing.
CHAPTER XIX
AFTERMATH
He roused to a right pleasant coolness, a sweet refreshment and opening his eyes stared down into a bowl of bloody water whence a great hand lifted dripping clout to splash his drooping head until he gasped, and turning with an effort, looked up into the blood-spattered visage of Bo'sun Ned who instantly nodded at him, crying:
"Ahoy, Martin, he've come to."
"Yes," sighed Adam, blinking the water from his eyes. "So we ... won the fight, Ned?"
"Ay, we did, sir."
"At a price, Mast'r Adam!" added Martin Frant. "There be five o' my watch gone."
"Ay!" growled the Bo'sun, wringing the water from his clout, "yet to good purpose, Martin lad, there's them and ten more all gone aloft on the wings o' Victory, as English sailormen should ought for to go."
"Fifteen—killed?" gasped Adam.
"Ay, sir, this be the total, and two or three o' the wounded doo for to follow 'em, I reckon. This be the tally of us foremast men. As for the after guard, the officers and gen'lemen,—there's the Master, Mr. Perrin, very dead of a cannon shot. There's Mr. Danvers gone and Lord Perrow likewise, with Sir Benjamin and divers others hurted somewhat. Yet—here's you and me and Martin and Cap'n Troy right as so many trivets and nary a scrat!"
"Yet you bleed, Ned."
"Mostly furrin, sir. I've took a small cut here and theer I won't deny, but naught to matter."
"I grieve poor Amos Perrin is gone."
"But, sir, he were killed afore he knowed it. A round-shot is usually mighty quick and therefore marciful; this 'un did Mr. Perrin's business very handsome,—like a flash o' light. He's lying forrard there, along wi' the rest o' them, waiting for Job Day, the sailmaker, to perform his dooty on 'em."
"How so, Ned?"
"Roll 'em snug and sew 'em up neat in canvas, sir, all trim and shipshape. And presently wi' a round shot rove to their feet and the Cap'n and us to pay 'em our last respex, over they'll go to Davy Jones—their poor bodies to the deep, but their souls aloft—we hope."
"Why truly, Ned, into the hands of God,—and as you said, on the wings of Victory, whereto I now say—Amen! So many dead alas,—and here sit I unharmed by very miracle."
"And your steel-jack, sir!" said Martin. "Here be tidy dent in the front, lookee! A pistol ball, I guess, 'twas this dropped ee and should have ended of ee else."
"And what of the enemy?"
"Two wrecks, sir, miles a-starn of us. For, d'ye see, so soon as their business is done, comes the plaguey wind as might ha' saved us in our need and didn't. Howsomever them cursed galleys shall never make land, which is summat to be thankful for."
And now came Joel Bym, limping somewhat, who hailed Adam with cry of welcome.
"By cock, sir, I've been a-seeking of ee alow and aloft along o' your young brother as be a-looking yet—below there on the gundeck."
"Then go say I'm very well, Joel."
"Ay, ay, sir!" And away hobbled Joel, while Adam got to his legs with an effort, saying:
"Now I must find thy hanger, Ned, for I lost it when I fell."
"Nay, 'tis here, Must' Adam, and very prettily blooded ... and yonder cometh your brother something green about the gills and no wonder, for he's young and we'm all pretty gory. Us'll swab down so soon as the lads have had a spell. Me being Bo'sun and therefore ship's nurse, I'll away and tend her. Come, Martin lad!" And away rolled these hardy mariners while Adam turned to meet Antonia and seeing her so pale, spoke cheerily as he might.
"Blood!" she gasped, "Blood everywhere ... my shoes are wet with it. Oh, Adam, what cruel wickedness a battle is! Thank God you are alive! I looked for you down there among those blood-splashed guns. I sought you in the dreadful cockpit where the wounded lie in their blood, crying and groaning ... and Mr. Perks and his mates all blood to their elbows...."
"Nay, such sights are not for you. Come now and lie down a while, take your ease until——"
"My ease?" she repeated, shivering. "And men groaning in agony!"
"Ay, I know," he sighed, "I know."
"Well now, Adam, if I must not fight will you have me shrink at sight of wounds, 'stead of doing all I may to ease such poor sufferers? Can you think me so heartless to take my ease and be such craven indeed?"
"No!" he answered, gently. "Yet what can you do?"
"All that I may," she retorted, and throwing off coat and doublet, rolled up her sleeves.
"Whither go you?" he questioned, anxiously.
"Downstairs, Adam! Down and yet down into the horror of that fearful cockpit—where no clean air may come and no light is save flickering lanthorns. And such work to do! Life and death! Oh, why must they have such dreadful place so dreadfully far from God's daylight? How like silly, great, blundering men!"
"Shall I go with thee, dear Anthony?"
"No, no, you would be sick, as I was at first,—very nearly. Instead go you to little Smidge, he lies in your cabin."
"Is he hurt?"
"I was looking for you, Adam, and found him lying by a cannon, between two dead men and thought him dead also, yet found he lived. So brought him up to your cabin and made him easy as I might. A great bump on his little curly head, poor lamb! Ah, 'tis sinful shame such children should be brought to sea. Take my coat, Adam, I'm going to the galley for rum and plenty of it to dose these poor sufferers!" And away she sped.
So Adam went to his cabin and beheld there outstretched a very pale little Smidge who, looking up at him with large, wistful eyes, raised hand to brow in fumbling salute.
"Ax your kind pardon, sir," said he, a little faintly, "'twas your bruvver brings and lays me yere, but if you wants to lay down I'll sheer off, sir."
Adam shook his head and blinked but answered cheerily:
"No, no. How's thy old nob, shipmate?"
"Aches me a bit, sir, it do, but I'm a fighting English seadog now, Mr. Adam, so I don't mind nor yet notice it nohow. 'Cos when Tom Benson was killed I took his cutlash and used it agin them pirits right hearty I did till I gets this yere clout o' my figurehead and couldn't do no more. So then I went asleep and dreamed as my mother was a-kissing of me and wakes up and finds as 'twas your bruvver, Mist' Anthony ... and I was that ashamed I closes my peepers again and so he carries me up yere, though I dessay as I could ha' walked, then he lays me yere and ... kisses me again—ay, and calls me 'poor child', 'e did, though I tells him I ain't! So please, Mist' Adam, don't let him kiss me no more, and if he calls me 'child' you tell him as I'm a seadog as poked them pirits proper,—will ye, sir, if you please?"