It turned bloody then. The rage I’d seen in the men as they started fighting only became worse, as if they’d never stop until someone died. A painful cry sounded, and I looked on in horror as Tallow fell to the ground. The crowd seemed to close in around him and I lost sight of him. They had no care for the frail man as the fighting continued.
“No!” I yelled as I lunged toward where he fell. I was pulled back again, this time by Patrice. She had me in her arms and held me too firmly for me to break free. “Tallow!”
Mr. Ashby then joined the fray. I watched him take a few punches and then throw a few on his way to Tallow; I caught a glimpse of the old man lying unconscious on the deck. Through the fighting, I could see traces of blood on his face.
“Stop!” I called out, trying to get their attention so that Mr. Ashby could reach Tallow. I had half a mind to take out my pistol, but it might have made the situation worse—more deadly. We were lucky that none of the crew had drawn a gun already.
It was several moments before I saw Mr. Ashby dragging Tallow out. He set the old man down and then turned to glare at the fight behind him.
Without another second of thought, he went back to the fight. I wanted to shout for him to stop, but my focus was on Tallow. Patrice finally released me, then we raced to Tallow together.
His breathing was unsteady, and I let out a cry as I took his hand. He looked as if he’d been trampled by a mob, though it may as well have been a herd of cattle. “Tallow?” I said urgently. “Are you with us? Please, say something.”
His eyelids fluttered momentarily and then opened in slits. “Elsie. Don’t…worry. Everything will…be….” He breathed out and his hand went slack.
I shook him. “No. Tallow.” I shook him again. “Please, can you hear me?” I looked at Patrice, wide-eyed, and my chin quivered. “What do we do?”
But she didn’t have an answer. Her eyes filled with tears as she took his other hand. She checked his breathing. Her head shook when she looked at me again.
No!How could this happen? I took the elderly, frail man into my arms and cried into his hair. I heard the ongoing fight behind us, then I heard Patrice’s voice.
“Stop, ye eejits!! Ye’ve killed a man!”
My sobs echoed then as the sounds of fighting ceased. Had the world gone completely still? All I could hear was my own grief. “No, Tallow. Come back to us.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see the ship’s surgeon, Mr. Ewis. He was a big, brawny Welshman who did not often speak. When he did, his voice rumbled the space around him. “Let me tend to him, Miss,” he said.
I reluctantly released Tallow and scooted back to lean against the bulkhead, quietly sobbing as I watched him. He felt Tallow’s heartbeat at his neck, checked his breathing, and opened each eye with a thumb before letting them fall closed again. He sighed deeply and bowed his head before slowly placing Tallow flat on the deck. He stood, his imposing form towering over everyone there. “He’s gone.”
I bit my lip to keep from letting out a heart-wrenching sob. Patrice came to sit beside me. She was crying, too.
“Someone prepare a wrap for him and write his name down in the books. We’ll have a ceremony for him in the morning. You should all go back into your cabins and think about what you’ve done.” Mr. Ewis looked at them with a disgusted expression.
When most of the crew had dispersed, I looked up to see Mr. Ashby watching me with more than shock. It was agony. It was regret. It was heartbreak. He fell to his knees before Tallow and me. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. I knew he meant to say it to Tallow, but I felt it directed toward me as well.
“It’s not your fault,” I whispered shakily.
“I should have stopped them sooner.”
“You got him out of there when no one else even noticed him.” I didn’t know if I was comforting him, but I said these things half to myself to make sure I knew how it had all happened. To review whatwent wrong. “It happened too quickly. He was right there when the fight started and he got in the middle… Why did it become violent all of a sudden? They were just speaking…and then…” I looked into Mr. Ashby’s eyes in order to communicate my confusion.
He shook his head slightly. “It happens sometimes, when men are overwhelmed. We’ve been at sea for over a month. They’re exhausted…they didn’t think their points were getting across.”
“They should be punished,” I said, wiping at my cheeks as anger surfaced.
“They will be. I saw the captain go down there with Hull. This isn’t over.”
Someone came, then, with a shroud for Tallow. They rolled it out, put Tallow inside, and then secured it with rope. I watched in utter despair. The man I’d come to regard as a grandfather had just perished and was now wrapped in nothing but canvas and rope. He was to have no grave but the sea. My heart broke and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I just sat there, clasping my hands together on my lap. What did we do now?
Chapter 12
Ihadsomehowmadeitback to my cabin with Patrice and laid down in bed. I took out my pistol and placed it on the table, staring at it. If I had used it, would I have been able to protect Tallow? Was this my fault for not wielding a weapon that could have changed our fates?
I thought I’d never fall asleep, but realized I had when a knock at the door awoke me. Patrice was rising slowly, so I got up and opened it to find Mr. Ashby. Even in the dim light of the lamp, I could see the dark circles under his eyes. His frown was deeper than I’d ever seen it. He couldn’t hold my gaze for very long, however, and he looked at the floor before he spoke.
“The men who began the fight have been sent adrift in a dinghy.” His voice was hoarse, no doubt from yelling at the men to stop them from taking drastic measures.
My eyes went wide and I covered my mouth for a moment as I processed the implications. “But we areamonthinto our voyage! If they are left adrift this far from shore…what will happen to them? How much food and water do they have?”
