CHAPTER XV.Quits!
There was no rest that night for the men on board the schooner. The gale continued with unabated fury, momentarily threatening destruction to the vessel, and Dunton knew that if the cable broke all hands would be required at once to try and work her off the Wellfleet shore, which was under their lee. The darkness and the absence of guiding lights on the land made him uncertain of his position, though a cast of the lead showed a safe depth of water.
To add to his discomfort, Dunton was aware that, through an oversight, the schooner had only one large anchor to depend on. It may be said that Hoppy Mayo also knew that there was but one anchor fit for the occasion, but, for reasons of his own, he suffered no anxiety on that point.
The pilot felt that the supreme hour of his life was at hand. He had faith in himself and in the justness of his cause. He refused to entertain the thought that the Arbiter of all things would decide against him in his struggle with his foes; but, whatever the outcome, he was determined to meet the end undauntedly as became a true American sailor.
Dunton shouted through the storm:
“It will be high water at two o’clock, Mayo; there may be a change of weather on the ebb?”
“I hope so, Mr. Dunton, and I believe there will be some abatement of the wind at half tide. This storm seems to be a double-decker; that last crash of thunder shows there’s more behind it.”
Then a big wave struck the vessel and she shivered at the blow. Some of the hands were thrown on the deck and narrowly escaped being washed overboard.
“By George, Mr. Dunton!” cried Hoppy, “that was a bad one! It’s a wonder to me how that cable stands the strain. Shouldn’t be surprised if it went under another blow like that last one!”
The same thought was in Dunton’s mind and he could not conceal his anxiety.
“I suppose you know, Mayo, that we haven’t another anchor fit to hold her in this weather?”
“By the Lord! you don’t say so? Then it’s a mighty poor show if we lose this one.”
“Is there no creek or small harbor on this cursed coast where we could take refuge?”
Hoppy expected the question and he was prepared with an answer. After a pause he said:
“Well, Mr. Dunton, there’s nothing to leeward that you could call a harbor, but there’s a small inlet to the south of us and if the cable snaps our only chance will be to run for it.”
“But how are you to find it in this darkness?”
“It will soon be dawn, Mr. Dunton; in about an hour’s time, I should say. If we’re lucky enough to hold on till then we may make it. Once over the outer bar we shall be safe.”
Dunton had to be satisfied with this, though the prospect was a poor one. He asked Hoppy how they were to moor the schooner in case they lost the heavy anchor? The pilot told him that there would be smooth water inside the outer bar and that a light anchor would do.
Sea after sea kept pounding the vessel. As the time was near for decisive action, Hoppy suggested to Dunton that it would be well to pay out a few more fathoms of cable.
“It will ease her a bit, Mr. Dunton; I’ll make my way forward and see that it runs out all right.”
Dunton agreed. Hoppy groped his way to the bow where he crouched unobserved in the gloom. Dunton gave the order topay out, but just then a curious thing happened. Hoppy drew his keen knife from its sheath and slashed the stout rope in such a manner that he knew it would soon part. On his way aft he managed to have a few words with Jackson.
The night was drawing to a close. The first faint streaks of dawn were appearing and the pilot drew Dunton’s attention to them:
“Day is coming, Mr. Dunton; I think there’s a slight break in the gale.”
And so it seemed. There was a perceptible lessening of the schooner’s motion and Dunton felt relieved.
Suddenly a shout that the cable had parted arose and for some time the utmost confusion prevailed. The vessel fell off before the wind which had shifted a point to the north.
“Our only chance is to run for it, Mr. Dunton,” cried Hoppy. “I think we had better make for the inlet, though it must be shallow water on the outer bar now!”
The storm jib was set and the schooner plunged forward, Hoppy at the wheel. It was now sufficiently clear to distinguish the shore. The appearance of the sky denoted a change near though the gale was still strong.
Hoppy held her head in the direction of what he called the inlet. It could not be much of an inlet, was Dunton’s thought, for as far as the eye could range along shore there was nothing but a stretch of surf-beaten beach.
“Not much of a harbor, Mayo?”
“You will see it better in a short time, Mr. Dunton.”
Onward raced the schooner and the sea was surely getting smoother as she approached the land. When about half a mile from it, Hoppy ran her right into the wind’s eye and with a shock the little craft stood still.
“What’s that for, Mayo?” demanded Dunton suspiciously.
“It means, Mr. Dunton,” replied Hoppy coolly, “that we are aground on the outer bar.”
“Then what are we going to do now?”
“We were a bit too late to catch enough water for crossing. We must now wait for the next tide to enable us to get off.”
“But what’s going to happen meanwhile?”
“The schooner will be all right where she is,” replied the pilot. “However, I should advise you to send your men below, Mr. Dunton, so that the people on shore may not get suspicious at seeing such a large crew.”
As the vessel was stuck fast in the sand there seemed no alternative but to follow Hoppy’s advice; so, reluctantly, Dunton ordered the men below. Hoppy caught Jackson’s eye and that worthy winked significantly. The convivial tar waved his hand in salute as he followed his mates below. Dunton and his two subordinate officers remained on deck with the pilot.
The storm was almost over and the British commander cursed his bad luck in not having been able to hold on to his anchor. Here, he was in a bad predicament, held fast on the treacherous flats and obliged to wait for hours until the flood tide floated the schooner. The hated Yankees ashore would soon discover his plight and, perhaps, muster sufficient force to seize his vessel, making prisoners of all on board. The gloomy prospect affected Dunton’s nerves and he longed to vent his spleen on the pilot, but he had no evidence whatever that the latter had not acted in good faith.
As the daylight got stronger a few men were observed on the beach. Hoppy knew that they were the forerunners of the crowd which would soon be on the scene.
The tide was ebbing fast and the schooner would soon be high and dry on the flats. Then the pilot must strike the final blow on which he depended for victory. He was not afraid of the result. There had been no setback to his plans up to the present and he felt confident that within the hour Dunton and his men would be prisoners of war.
The schooner, feeling the want of the supporting tide, heeled over. Dunton on the quarterdeck was dividing his attention between the increasing crowd on the beach and the movements of the pilot. The latter seemed to be examining the brass four pounder with great curiosity. To Dunton it looked as if Hoppy had it in his mind to train the piece on the beach, but that idea vanished quickly when he saw the bold Cape Codder deliberately spike the gun!
“Treason, by G——!” he shouted as he made a rush forward. Hoppy gave the spike a clinching blow and turned on the officer.
“Stand back there, Dunton!” he cried fiercely. “Stand back there! and keep a civil tongue in your mouth, you d—d swab!”
Hoppy had snatched a boarding pike from the rack and Dunton paused irresolutely before the weapon.
“Halt!” cried the American.
Dunton faced him. The officer was no coward, but the suddenness of the whole thing was disconcerting and he was puzzled how to proceed.
“This vessel is American property, Dunton; she now reverts to her rightful owners!”
Dunton did not reply. He looked at Jenkins and the latter disappeared into the cabin. Hoppy laughed mockingly as the junior reappeared looking decidedly crestfallen.
“Your pistols are not in your writing case, sir.”
This was too much for Dunton. His features were distorted with passion and he hurled a volley of vile language at the American.
“Avast there, you swab!” roared Hoppy; “another man so near death as you are would be saying his prayers instead of using filthy talk!”
“All hands, ahoy!” screamed Dunton.
“Aye, you may call them, my bold fellow, but they couldn’t hear even Gabriel’s trumpet now!”
And so it was. Hoppy had told Jackson where to find the cask of rum in the hold and that gallant seaman had tapped it with a gimlet, inviting his messmates to partake, which they did with gusto. They were worn out from the long vigil through the night and copious libations of the fiery liquor soon stupefied them. They lay like dead men in the hold.
The baffled officer turned on his subordinates, “Where are your pistols?” he demanded.
“They can’t be found, sir,” answered Jenkins.
Then Hoppy enlightened him. “You need not worry about your pistols, Dunton; they are in safe keeping. And now, I’m going to be busy for a few minutes and I want you to be a good boy until I have time to attend to your troubles.”
Near the mainmast there was a large chest containing arms. It was locked, but Hoppy smashed it open with an axe and started to throw the muskets and cutlasses overboard. This made Dunton almost insanely furious. Calling on his officers to help he rushed at Hoppy who whipped out a pistol which he leveled at the advancing Englishman.
“Another step and you are a dead man!” he thundered. “And you, Jenkins and Thomson, stand back! You are decent fellows and I don’t want to kill you, but, by the Almighty, if you don’t stay quiet, I’ll have you all three buried in Yankee soil tomorrow!”
The assailants drew back. Hoppy opened his jacket and displayed an array of pistols stuck in his belt.
“These are your pistols,” said he, “and I may tell you later how I got them; but, for the present, you must be satisfied to know that they are all loaded and that makes more than a bullet apiece for you. If you don’t believe me, watch this!”
He fired and the bullet struck the deck at Dunton’s feet.
“I can afford to waste one shot,” he continued, “but it is the only one that will be wasted if you don’t keep quiet!”
He then finished the work of throwing the arms into the sea.
“That’s a good job satisfactorily done. Now I have a fewwords to say, Dunton, and when you hear them you will know how we stand. You and your men are my prisoners. The schooner is my prize. I have no desire to treat you harshly, though you must feel that I owe you nothing in the way of civility. My people, as you can see, are now in force on the beach, and when the flats are dry, as they will be in a short time, I shall deliver you to the proper authorities in Eastham. However, I want you to know that I have had no help from any of your men in this business. They obliged me by getting drunk, and you have yourself to blame for that. If you hadn’t defrauded them of their proper allowance of grog they might be sober now! Captain Raggett treated me decently and for his sake I shall see that you have nothing to complain of ashore. Now you understand?”
“You’re a d——d traitor and you’ll suffer for this when the frigate returns!” cried Dunton venomously.
“That reminds me, Dunton, of what you said when we had that little conversation at Provincetown. ‘No back talk from prisoners,’ I think you remarked? As to being a traitor,” here the American’s eyes flashed and his tone became hard, “well, that’s according to the way you look at it. A traitor to what? Why, man, you show your stupidity by saying so! You thought because I made no fuss about becoming your pilot that you had me on your side! When I consented, Dunton, it was with the firm intention that this schooner and all on board should find a resting place at the bottom of Cape Cod bay if I found no other way out. You should thank God for the storm; it surely saved your lives! It was a case of one man against twenty-three and the one man had only his wits to depend on—but he won! One Yankee licked twenty-three Britishers! How will that news be received on the ‘Spencer,’ Dunton? There, I have said enough for the present and I’m not going to gloat over your defeat.”
There was no answer from the beaten and humiliated Dunton.