The Project Gutenberg eBook ofA Madcap CruiseThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: A Madcap CruiseAuthor: Oric BatesRelease date: November 12, 2017 [eBook #55950]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MADCAP CRUISE ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: A Madcap CruiseAuthor: Oric BatesRelease date: November 12, 2017 [eBook #55950]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)
Title: A Madcap Cruise
Author: Oric Bates
Author: Oric Bates
Release date: November 12, 2017 [eBook #55950]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MADCAP CRUISE ***
A Madcap Cruise
title page
ByORIC BATES
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Boston and New YorkHOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & COMPANYThe Riverside Press, Cambridge1905
COPYRIGHT 1905 BY ORIC BATESALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published March 1905
TO
MY FATHER
A MADCAP CRUISE
"It strikes me," said Jerrold Taberman, "that we are booked for everlasting fame, win or lose. We'll either sail down the ages as a brace of heroes, or as the most egregious pair of donkeys that ever botched a job."
"Well, Jerry," returned his companion, smiling, "you've as much to do with making the thing a success as I have. I hope you realize the responsibility."
The young men chuckled in concert at the thought of all that was involved in this remark, although they looked, not at each other, but out over the sea.
It was early twilight in the last week of the month of May. The two speakers were standing on a little jetty that ran out into a small and all but landlocked harbor of an island in East PenobscotBay. Both were evidently in the earlier twenties, both were dressed in such canvas working-suits as are worn by the sailors in our navy, and both were, at half a glance, gentlemen.
The second speaker, John Castleport, was tall and dark. His face, with its prominent features and keen brown eyes, was rather striking than handsome. He stood looking southward to where, in the fading light, the Atlantic shouldered away to the west as if with a hidden purpose of its own. In his hand he held a pair of powerful binoculars, and despite his smile he had the air of being pretty seriously in earnest.
Taberman contrasted curiously with his host. He was short and thickset, with blue eyes and fair hair which showed a tendency to curl. As he stood with shoulders turned to the wind, the square collar of his canvas jumper was blown against his round pate, and made a background for his tanned face. He held a briar drop-pipe between his teeth, and his hands were thrust deep into his trousers pockets. Working his pipe into the corner of his mouth, he spoke again.
"Hope this breeze won't trouble the old gentleman," he remarked, casting a glance at the billowing double-headers that were driving by aloft.
The wind shrilled by the watchers on the jetty, clear, strong, and salt.
"Guess not," replied Castleport; "anything short of a hurricane's a sailing-wind for him. He's a mettlesome old chap."
"That's right enough. Can't have him spoiling our game by being late, you know. Let's go up; it's getting beastly chilly."
They turned and walked along the pier. At the point where it met the shore stood a small boathouse. Thence the ground, covered with a stunted growth of spruce and fir, and the inevitable New England boulders, rose abruptly. Directly in the line of the jetty the shingled roof of a small house showed above the trees. To the westward, in the dimming afterglow of the sunset, the Camden Hills stood out luminous, purple, yet rimmed with a thread of golden fire. Away to the east, clad in soberer colors, rose Mt. Desert, a mass of shadowy greens and blues. The steepness of the path they were ascending soon cut off from the view of the young men these beauties and grandeurs, which, however, they were probably not in a mood to dwell upon; and a minute's walking brought them to the door of the house, a small affair with high-pitched roof and broad veranda. Its shingles were almost the color of the darkevergreens that encircled the clearing in which it stood; its windows reflected with a vacant and glassy stare the fast-fading light. Castleport opened the door for his guest, and followed him into the living-room.
The darkness seemed the greater from its contrast with what light yet remained outside, and not until Taberman had put a match to the pile of old shingles and light driftwood in the wide fireplace could they see fairly. The crimson glow showed a room some twenty feet square, with windows on two sides,—the south and east. The joists and sheathing were of planed spruce, left unpainted. The big Mexican fireplace of brick occupied the northwestern corner; in the middle of the room stood conspicuously a round deal table, covered with a litter of pipes, tobacco, magazines, and nautical hardware; between the two eastern windows, below a box-like cabinet which was attached to the wall, was a smaller table with a square top, piled with books and charts. Beneath the southern windows was placed a heavy desk with a faded baize top, the cloth ink-stained and full of holes due to moths and carelessly handled cigars. Of the happy-go-lucky assortment of chairs which completed the furniture of the room, no large portion was in an entirely unbroken condition, but all evidently weremeant for service and ease. The walls of the room were decorated with devices in scallop-shells and a few unframed water-colors of the impressionist type. A large chart of Penobscot Bay was tacked to the inside of the door, and a venerable flintlock musket hung below a battered quadrant over the chimneypiece. Everything was simple almost to rudeness, yet the place gave at once and most strongly the impression of comfort and good-fellowship.
Castleport laid his binoculars on the desk, and, stepping to a door on his right, opened it and called out:—
"Oh, Gonzague?"
"Sair?" promptly replied some one from beyond the short passage into which he looked.
"Dinner when you're ready, Gonzague."
"A' right, sair."
Taberman had seated himself by the fire, and here Castleport joined him. Each filled and lighted a pipe, and together they stared at the flames roaring up the wide chimney. The smaller sticks already began to fall apart, pitching outward or dropping between the dogs, and for some moments the young men watched them in silence. At length, as Taberman flung a fresh stick into the flames, Castleport spoke, half to himself.
"What a lesson it'll be to the old chap! My aunt! He'll grind his teeth to powder!"
"Tooth-powder, eh?" queried the other with a grin. "But we must be sure we have the laugh on the right side. It isn't merely the getting away with the Merle that's the joke; it's the hanging on to her and bringing her back safe."
"That's true enough," assented Castleport; "but with pluck and luck and an eye to the three L's, we ought to manage."
"You'd better go over the whole plan for me, Jack; you haven't given me half the details, and I'd like to know the latest version. It's certainly important to have everything perfectly understood beforehand."
"All right; I'll go over the whole business after dinner, old man. We will act the conspirators rehearsing their villainy; but let's wait for food. I hate discussions on an empty stomach."
"Correct; here's Gonzague now."
A tall, gray-haired man, with a much-bronzed face, came in and began to clear away the litter on the round table. He had a rugged, weather-beaten countenance, with prominent features and luminous black eyes. Beneath his big, hooked nose a large white mustache, stiff and curled like that of a walrus, half hid a firm, full-lipped mouth. Anative of Provence,—soldier, sailor, cook, and deck-hand,—old Gonzague Mairecalde had led sixty-odd years of exciting and polyglot existence, the last three of which had been spent in Castleport's service. Dressed in blue flannel trousers and an immaculate white jacket, the old man moved noiselessly about, swiftly disposing of the things on the table. He seemed to have a place for everything, and the lightest tread and deftest hands imaginable. Having cleared away, he went out, and soon reappeared with linen and service. In a short time the table was ready for the bringing in of the food.
"A' ready, sair?" asked Gonzague, tugging at his mustache with his bony fingers.
"Two minutes," answered Jack. "Come on, Jerry; let's scrub up."
In ten minutes they were seated before a dinner plain but hearty, well cooked and appetizingly served. They were apparently not at all troubled by any incongruity between their rough and not over-fresh sailor clothes and the snowy napery and the silver on which the fire threw dancing and wavering lights. On the walls opposite the fireplace mute, shadowy grotesques helped each other to huge supplies from dishes of vague outline and uncertain size, plied dark forks andspoons with ogre-like gusto, or with heads thrown back and crooked elbows drank like trolls from enormous tankards.
After dinner the table was cleared, a jug of ale was placed upon it, with a plate of ship-biscuit and a supply of tobacco. It was the theory of Castleport that the climate of the Island was English enough to warrant this nightly attack upon the October, of which his uncle, who owned the Island, kept always a butt in the cellar. In truth, the fresh coolness of the air at night, the pleasant blaze of the fire, the agreeable scent of burning tobacco, made a tankard or two of ale seem hardly to need an excuse of any sort.
With the table pulled forward so that its edge came between them, their pipes lit, their feet stretched out comfortably toward the hearth, the pair of friends smoked for a time in silence, until at last Jack, after refilling and relighting his pipe with great deliberation, broke into speech.
"Before I go into the details of this job," he observed, "there's one thing I have to say. It's a waste of breath for me to talk until I know you're with me. I haven't done anything more than to ask you off-hand, old man; now I'd like you to say seriously whether you'll come on this cruise with me or not. I hate to be so horriblybusinesslike, Jerry, especially in the matter of a lark; but in—er—larking on this scale, things have got to be put on a definite basis,—be perfectly understood, as you said before dinner."
Taberman gave his companion a sidelong glance, and began to smile. The smile grew into an audible chuckle; and this in its turn developed into a laugh increasing to a jovial roar.
"You solemn old pirate," he cried, "what sort of a quitter do you take me for? I'll give you any kind of a promise you like, provided—semper more equitis, you know—Can't bind myself to cut throats, scuttle ships, fly the jolly roger, et cetera. What's your form of oath, eh? Do we drink each other's blood out of a skull, or what?"
There was a boyish exuberance about Jerrold Taberman, a debonair abandon, which he never could outgrow. It accorded well with his youthful face and careless mien, which made him so marked a contrast to his friend. Castleport, although impulsive and disposed to jollity as only a hale and hearty young man of twenty-two can be, was, on the whole, of a temperament the reverse of boisterous. He responded frankly to Jerry's outburst.
"Well, old man," said he, "there's nothing more needed than your word that you'll go, andstick it out to the end. I knew you would, Jerry. Confound it, give us your flipper!"
In his enthusiasm he caught Taberman's hand and wrung it heartily, being evidently moved more by some inner consciousness of the weighty nature of the scheme he was about to outline than by anything that had actually been said between them. Jerry laughed, and returned the grip with interest.
"And now," continued Castleport, "I'll let you have particulars galore. I'll tell you the beginning of it first: how the idea came to me. About three weeks ago I decided I'd go abroad,—I wrote you, you remember. Well, I went to Uncle Randolph, and asked him for a letter of credit. That's what comes of the pleasant arrangement by which all my property's in trust till I'm twenty-five! Beastly nuisance!"
"Of course it is," assented his companion. "It's queer your father made such a will. However," he added, as if with the feeling that he was perhaps touching upon delicate ground, "that's neither here nor there. Heave ahead."
"You know why I wanted to go," Jack went on, "and so"—
"Slow up a bit," interrupted the other, mischief shining in his eyes; "why should you want to go particularly?"
"Confound you!" retorted Castleport. "You know perfectly well! Do you think it's any fun to be here when—when"—
"When Miss Marchfield's on the other side," finished Jerry, with the air of enjoying a huge joke.
Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat, leaned forward to rap the ashes out of his pipe on the firedog, and then looked at his friend seriously.
"I won't be roughed, Jerry," he said. "You know perfectly well I'm dead in earnest about her, and I'll thank you to let up."
"All right, Jack; I beg your pardon; but I would like to ask one thing. It's not exactly my business, of course, but really it's something I'd like to know in connection with this scheme."
"Fire away," Castleport said rather grimly.
"Well, then, what I want to know is why the President's so set against your marrying Katrine Marchfield?"
"It isn't time to talk of marrying," Jack returned somewhat stiffly. "She may have something to say to that."
"Of course, old fellow; but you know what I mean. What's his objection to your trying?"
"I don't see how that affects the cruise, exactly, but I don't mind telling you; only of course Ishouldn't want it talked about. It's so unreasonable, and honestly I should hate to seem to be giving Uncle Randolph any sort of a black eye."
"I shouldn't repeat it, Jack; but you needn't say anything if you'd rather not."
"It's only that it looks as if Uncle Randolph was infernally obstinate and cranky, and he really isn't. He hadn't any reason to give me, that amounted to anything. He talked about Katrine's not having any money; but of course that's all poppy-cock. I've got a good bit myself when I come into it, and he's always told me I should have all his. Of course Katrine hasn't much, though she'll have something, I suppose, from her aunt."
"Aunt?"
"Why, Mrs. Fairhew. Katrine's traveling with her now. She's the only near relative Katrine has."
"But if it isn't money"—
"No, it isn't that. The truth is—I heard it from Mrs. Fairhew once; I wasn't sure then, and I'm not now, whether she knew quite how much she was telling me, and meant it for a warning, or not. I'm half inclined to think she did."
"But what was it?" inquired Jerry, as Jackpaused to meditate, with his eyes fixed earnestly on the fire.
"Oh, Uncle Randolph had some sort of a row with Katrine's father when they were young men. I fancy it was about a girl, for I know there was one somewhere along about that time. I've heard father speak of it, and say it altered Uncle Randolph's whole life. Anyway, there was some sort of a scrap, and Uncle Randolph never forgave it."
"Humph!" was Taberman's comment. "It's rather crotchety of him to vent his spite on Miss Marchfield."
"Of course it is," Castleport answered, "but he's not so bad as it looks. He's been awfully good to me all my life."
A brief pause followed, in which both were probably reflecting upon the character of Randolph Drake, one of Boston's prominent men, president of one of the largest banks, and trustee of a dozen important corporations; a man whose chief aim in life was, apparently, making money, whose amusement was yachting. It was in connection with this sport that he had a few years before bought the island and put up the house in which his motives were now being discussed. The place served as a shooting-box or as a base ofsupplies, and was provided with a trig little harbor exactly adapted for the accommodation of the President's yacht, the Merle.
"After all," Jack said at length, "Uncle Randolph really cares more for me than he does for anything else in the world."
"And so when he suspected that you were going abroad to try to marry the daughter of his old enemy, he wouldn't supply the funds."
"He can't seem to get it into his head that I am grown up, anyhow," grumbled Jack. "I've made up my mind now that I'll convince him that I am."
"Why in the world didn't you borrow the money, Jack? That would have been easy enough."
"Well, when I came of age I made Uncle Randolph a sort of a promise that I wouldn't borrow. He put it that it would be evading the intent of my father's will; and of course it would. Anyway, Uncle Randolph himself put a bigger idea into my head. It took me one day and two nights, mostly without sleep, to think it out, and then I got hold of you."
"How did he suggest it?"
"He was really sorry for me; I could see that. Only he had the air of feeling I was so young thatany other cake would do as well as the one I wanted. The very day that he refused to let me go abroad, he suggested that I come down here with Gonzague and some friend or other. He thought that if I fooled round the bay until he came to pick me up on the Merle, I should get over my wish to go abroad. He said I was run down, needed change, and so on. He's coming June 5, and plans to go on down to the Provinces. Then he said that after he had had his cruise on the Merle I might perhaps like to have her a week or two myself. It was a mighty great concession, let me tell you. When I think of taking the boat, I'm half ashamed of myself, the old gentleman's so rum fond of her."
"And that put the notion into your head?"
"Yes, only not at the moment. I said to myself that if I was going to cruise in the Merle I'd like to go across in her; but it wasn't till that night, just as I was turning in, that the idea of getting her now and running off came to me. It fairly bowled me over!"
"I should think it might!" laughed Taberman.
"At first it seemed the easiest thing in the world. Then I began to think of objections, and as fast as I got one out of the way another poppedup. I've worked at it like a prize puzzle. I've got my crew picked out, I've planned how to get possession of the yacht and to get rid of her old crew; and then—Hurrah for the Mediterranean!"
"Oh, Jacko, you devil!" cried Taberman. "I wouldn't have believed you had it in you! Do you really think we can do it?"
"Do it! Of course we'll do it. Didn't I tell you I'd got my crew already? Ten strappers, not counting Gonzague."
"Did Gonzague kick?"
"Gonzague? Did you ever consider, Tab, those eyes of his, with that nose and mouth?"
"No," Jerry responded, "I've never given his features any especial critical overhauling."
"Saracen!" Jack said, lowering his voice. "When you see that combination in a Spaniard or a Provençalese, it spells Moorish marauder every time. He doesn't know it, I fancy; but there's good old ripe Moorish pirate blood in him, and it came sizzling to the top the moment I broached the scheme. Besides, Gonzague would have his throat cut for me any time."
"That's so, but he's as honest an old soul as there is above ground."
"Of course I told him, and I told the crew,that it was a lark. You know I've knocked about Penobscot Bay ever since I got out of the nursery. Everybody knows me, and at Isle au Haut I've been so much that I'm almost like one of their own pals to the natives. I got hold of my men pretty easily. Of course they look on me as the same as the President's son; and they were willing enough to leave the fishing for better wages than they could earn anywhere else. They all like me, and so of course they all take advantage of me in the way of wages."
"I confess I don't see where your economy comes in, Jacky," observed Taberman, giving a poke to the wasting fire. "I don't know much about expenses, but I should think it would cost as much to hire a crew as to go without one."
Castleport grew grave and moved a little impatiently.
"There's a question for a casuist," he said. "I'm taking these men off on the trust that Uncle Randolph will let me pay them when I get home. It's a deuced sight more like borrowing than I wish it were, though of course my allowance comes in; but I'm bound that he shall get it into his head that I'm no longer in leading-strings, and"—
Taberman looked at him affectionately and comprehendingly.
"That'll be all right, old man," he said consolingly. "We'll get out of that somehow. I'd like to see the President's face when he finds he's left high and dry down here and the Merle has flitted across the Atlantic without him."
"Oh, he won't be here. We'll capture the yacht at North Haven. I'll show you the whole scheme to-morrow on the chart. I've brought down more than a thousand for this coast and the Mediterranean! Now let's get to bed. It's only a week or so that we have left to sleep with a clear conscience."
Taberman rose from his seat, then without warning suddenly slapped his knees with his hands and burst into a roar of laughter.
"Oh, by George," he cried, "what a jolt it'll be for Uncle Randolph!"
"That's the cream of the whole thing," responded Jack, joining in the laugh. "He'll be so surprised to find out that I'm grown up."
The Casino at North Haven is a curious little box, known locally—possibly from its situation at the end of a fairly long wharf—as the "Fo'c'sle." It has but one room, paneled with imitation Japanese carvings, and having an attractive divan-like seat in a wide bay-window, where one may lounge and watch the vessels passing through the Thoroughfare. Outwardly the building is very plain, its two prominent features being the bay-window, which looks south, and a flight of outside stairs on the west which lead to a little nest of a balcony half hidden under the gable-end of the roof above this window.
The balcony is so covered by the peak of the roof that its interior is not visible from the wharf, and a person sitting on the settle at the back of it can be seen only from a boat some distance out on the water.
The Casino is little used, and although thecaretaker unlocks the door each morning, the place is more generally deserted than not. The subscribers who come down to the wharf to start for rowing or sailing sometimes step in, wait for friends, or use the place as a storage for extra wraps; sometimes a riotous group of children holds brief but noisy possession; but after sunset the solitude is generally unbroken until ten o'clock, when the caretaker comes to lock up for the night. If the weather be bad, it is not unusual for the Casino to remain unvisited for the entire day. It affords a convenient shelter when it is needed, however, and its wharf, with a float on either side, makes a good landing-place; and it is, in a word, one of the numerous class of things which in this world are not constantly in demand, but which, when they are wanted at all, are wanted badly.
Here, on the evening of the fourth of June, Jerrold Taberman, wrapped in a shapeless ulster,—for a thick fog was driving in from the southeast,—sat awaiting his friend. Half an hour earlier Jack had gone to get something to eat, and Jerry had agreed to meet him here. Taberman was somewhat tired to-night, and beginning to feel the strain of three crowded and exciting days in which he had had little time for anything but action and sleep. The young men had completed their arrangementsat the Island, had left Gonzague in charge there, had notified the future crew to report to the Provençalese on the evening of the third, and to hold themselves in readiness to sail immediately on the arrival of the Merle. The pair had then taken the big market-boat, a whitehall used for bringing supplies from Isle au Haut, and with a couple of the most able of the Isle au Haut men, selected beforehand, had sailed over to an unfrequented cove in Vinal Haven, on the south side of the Thoroughfare. There they encamped in hiding. They had reached their place of concealment by night, and next afternoon had the satisfaction of seeing the Merle come in from the westward and drop anchor just inside the channel, off the "Fo'c'sle."
"By Jove, isn't she a fine sight!" Castleport exclaimed enthusiastically; and Jerry assented no less warmly.
The Merle ran in under full sail, with a quartering breeze. Her clean white hull, eighty-four feet on the water-line, her shining brasses, her broad spread of snowy canvas, the easy run of her long counter, combined to make a picture which, even personal interest aside, could not fail to stir such enthusiasts as Jack and Tab.
On the evening of the arrival of the Merle twogentlemen and three ladies had gone on board, evidently to dine, as they did not leave until nearly ten o'clock. Castleport and Taberman, lying concealed among the bushes overgrowing a tiny promontory on Vinal Haven, had watched all this through their night-glasses. Jack, whose eyes were as keen as a hawk's, had even thought that he could distinguish who the visitors were. With guests on board there was evidently nothing that the conspirators could do but to watch, and when this was over they smoked a good-night pipe together over their campfire, and for the hundredth time fell to considering their chances of success. Behind them in the shadow lay the two sailors, wrapped in their blankets and sleeping the sleep which only the genuine mariner knows; Jack glanced at them as if he felt that somehow he was personally responsible for carrying through the enterprise for which they had been enlisted.
"What the deuce shall we do if the President takes it into his head to get under weigh for the island to-morrow?" Jerry demanded in a subdued voice.
"Oh, that's all right," Jack answered in the same key. "He won't. He's fond of North Haven; it's an old stamping-ground of his, and he'll never go on without having had at leastone night's bridge here. That's part of the cruise. Besides, it's going to be thick, or I'm a duffer."
Thick it certainly was next day. The brisk southeasterly breeze that blew through the Thoroughfare all day seemed to roll in white billows of fog far more rapidly than it could take them out at the other end. The strait acted as a sort of condenser, in which the mist became almost tangibly more solid, until at nightfall it was, as one of Castleport's men put it, "blacker 'n a tar-bucket." Under cover of the obscurity Jack had had the market-boat reloaded with such necessities as they had brought over for their camp, and rowed silently over to one of the Casino floats. Here he and Taberman got out, and then the men, by his orders, worked the boat into concealment between the spiles of the wharf, there to await further orders, utterly invisible in the fog.
The two arch-conspirators mounted the wharf, and for some time kept watch to see if any one came ashore from the Merle; but as the time wore on to half-past seven they concluded that the President must be dining on board. Assured of this, Jack left Jerry to keep watch, and went up to the village bakery for food, dinner for himself and his friend having been forgotten in the midstof more important things. Tab, left alone in the wet darkness, had mounted to the balcony, and there sat in gloomy state, wondering if Jack were never coming back. He had no light by which to see his watch, but since he had heard seven bells from the Merle he felt sure that eight o'clock must be close at hand, when his attention was caught by the sound through the fog of the quickthud-thud,thud-thudof oars against thole-pins. In an instant he was thoroughly alert, his senses primitively acute, and his growing sensation of vague depression utterly dispelled. He heard some one pull hastily to the "Fo'c'sle;" the muffled chugging of the oar-blades as the rower held water; the gentle slapping of the boat's wash against the float; and then the clatter of the oars on the thwarts. Then by the dim light of the lantern at the end of the pier he saw a man spring on to the east float and secure his boat; give a quick, nervous tug at the painter to be sure that it was fast, and disappear from the field of vision which was bounded by the edge of the sloping roof. He fancied he heard a murmur as if the newcomer spoke a word of encouragement to the sailors in damp concealment under the wharf, and then had hardly time to wonder where Jack had been in a boat, before Castleport had run lightly up theplank from the float to the pier, and thence up the steps to Tab's place of concealment.
"Sit tight!" whispered Castleport breathlessly.
"What's—" began Jerry.
"Sh! We've the chance of a lifetime! I—I"—He gasped for breath, but caught it with a great gulp, and hurried on. "I've been aboard, Tab! Come in, man! Get back, get back!" He forced his friend into a seat in the farthest corner of the little balcony, caught his breath again, and began to chuckle. The sound of oars was again audible,—this time the steady, measured stroke of a heavy boat well pulled.
"Here's Uncle Randolph," cried Jack with a sort of whispered shout. "Here's Uncle Randolph!" And seizing his friend by the shoulders, he shook him and banged his head noiselessly against the wall for sheer glee.
"Stop, Jacko, stop it! Hold up, or by Jumbo I'll yell! Look there! Here they are."
As the pair hurried cautiously to look out over the edge of the balcony, a large cutter, pulled by six men, came out of the fog into the dim illumination of the pier-light. Three gentlemen in light overcoats were visible in the stern-sheets, the one in the middle steering. A little removed from the President and the two men who wereevidently his guests, sat one of the officers of the Merle.
"Way enough," called the steersman in a sharp voice.
"Oh, my aunt!" whispered Tab, giving Jack a nudge. "The President has very little idea that he's made all the way in the Merle he's likely to for one while."
The cutter ran smoothly along beside the float.
"In bows! Fend off, there!"
At the word the oars were unshipped, and a couple of sailors caught the rope which edged the staging. The cutter came to a stop. A seaman leaped out and held the boat, the officer sprang to the float and presented an arm for the President and his guests as they stepped to land.
"We'll be down at eleven," the President said to the officer. "If you want an hour or two ashore, there's some sort of a shindy going on opposite the post office, I believe—dance or something. Mind you're sharp on time for me, though."
"All right, sir. Eleven o'clock it is, sir," returned the officer, touching his cap deferentially as the three gentlemen turned away.
"Great Scott!" cried Jack into Tab's ear in an excited whisper. "Do you suppose thePresident's going to get rid of all those men for me himself? Was ever such luck!"
The boat still lay at the landing. The men began to discuss going ashore, and every word was easily audible to the two watchers in the balcony.
"I vote we go," quoth he with the boat-hook. "It ain't every day the old hunks gives us a chance to stretch a leg ashore."
"It'll be dry, Tom," spoke up one in the boat. "Ye won't get so much as a swig o' cider-water this side o' Bar Harbor."
"Well, boys, let's try it, anyhow," advised the officer. "If it's dry there, it's wet enough here."
"That's right," responded another. "Damn yer slops, Bill, ye dude; the' 're's good as mine, an' any togs is good enough for po'r Jack. Let's go ashore an' take a look at these Thoryfare bewties."
This seemed to settle it. The boat was made fast, and the men straggled up the pier, talking and laughing as they went.
Tab and Jack fairly hugged each other in delight at this development, and then Jerry opened fire.
"You said you'd been aboard," he began, "what"—
"When I left the bakery," Jack answered, without waiting for the question to be finished, "I said to myself that the fog was so thick it would be perfectly safe to take a boat and row out, on the chances that I might find out something. I meant to get astern of the Merle and give the wind a chance to bring me some of the talk aboard. I borrowed a little pea-pod from the pier behind Staples', and out I went. When I got to the yacht, I found I could lay alongside, for there wasn't a soul on deck. I hauled off my jacket and hung it over the boat's side for a fender, so she wouldn't make any noise, and took the painter in my fist. Then I stood on the thwart and jumped for the rail on the port side."
"You'd have made the devil of a mess if you'd missed it," commented Jerry.
"But I didn't. I got hold, but, Gad, I came near going overboard!"
He stopped to laugh, this time fearlessly aloud, while Jerry chuckled.
"I lay flat along the bulwark," Jack went on, "by the main rigging. The skylight-covers were on, of course, but the frames were half up, and I could get scraps of the talk in the cabin. The men Uncle Randolph's got along with him are old Melford and Tom Bardale. I thought I'd die tohear them go on. Old Melford was grumbling away,—he's always an awful croaker, you know. He piped up once, and said it was just his luck to have to suffer both fog and bridge when he came for solid cruising. Uncle Randolph and Bardale both poo-poohed him, and asked him if he'd rather play slap-Jack. The old boys are going to play bridge somewhere,—I didn't find out where, but it doesn't matter; they're settled, anyway. I didn't hear anything else, for I'd hardly time to drop into the pea-pod and get out of the way of the men from the fo'c'sle that came out to haul in the cutter on the boat-boom. I rushed ashore as tight as I could pelt, and you saw the rest. This dance business, too! Luck's with us!"
He stopped, all but breathless. With one accord the pair started for the stairs, and took their way to the pier, where the lantern made a dim and watery illumination in the midst of the fog. Castleport seized Jerry by the arm and led him to the edge of the pier.
"With this wind," he said with great earnestness, "we'd best run out to the westward, and beat along the south of Vinal Haven. We'll have more sea-room, and with the weather as thick as this, I don't deny that even that's risky enough."
"It is a nasty night," Taberman assented with emphasis. "Are you for going outside Wooden Ball Island?"
"Tell that when we've got by Dogfish and the rest of 'em," replied Jack briefly. "I mean to leave that to Dave, anyhow."
"You're dead sure you want to do it, old man?" queried Tab with the air of one who would not have asked the question had he not been confident that the answer would be in the affirmative.
"I'd do it ten times over just for the lark!" snorted Jack. "Now then—business!"
They descended the ladder to the eastern float, and Castleport called out guardedly to the men who had all this time been lying concealed in the market-boat under the wharf. A slight bumping, a muttered oath, the rattle of an oar on the thwart, and then the nose of the boat emerged from beneath the pier. A vigorous thrust with the boat-hook against one of the outer stringers shot her up alongside the float.
"All right?" inquired Jack.
A stoutly built man of short stature standing in the bow of the boat answered.
"Right enough, sir; but a mite holler."
"Well, Dave, we'll fix that in a spell," saidJack. "We've got a bit to do first, though. Let's have your watch, Tab."
He pulled out his own as he spoke, and took Jerry's with it in one hand. Then with the other hand he struck a match, which he craftily sheltered from the wind.
"You're a minute fast of me, Jerry," he commented, throwing away the match and returning the watch. "I say eight seventeen, and you say eight eighteen. You and Jim take the market-boat and go over to the other float. Take the Merle's cutter and tow her out to one of the moorings off the club here. At eight forty-eight sharp,—just half an hour,—you hail the Merle. Sing out like the deuce, and tell 'em to send a boat ashore. I'll see that they send one, and that when they've left there'll be nobody aboard but me. In about fifteen minutes from now a boat'll come ashore, but you needn't mind her. Dave'll look out for that business. Just you pick out some mooring a bit to windward of the direct line between the yacht and the Casino, so they shan't spot you. When you hear a boat coming in answer to your hail, you come out yourselves, and tow the cutter. That you're to make fast astern the Merle. Got it all clear?"
"I guess so," Jerry answered. "I don't noticea boat till eight forty-eight; then I hail, and when I hear a boat coming in answer I cut out to the Merle. Give me some matches to see the time with. Well, good luck, old man; be sharp, or you'll dish the whole game."
With this parting caution Taberman stepped into the market-boat, while Dave got out. Oars were not needed, but Jerry and the sailor easily pulled the market-boat around by the spiles to the other float, where they lay concealed in the rolling fog.
"Now then, Dave," Jack said as they disappeared, "you and I are the ones that are going to open this ball. You take me out, set me aboard just as if you did that sort of thing regularly,—do you see? As if I'd paid you a quarter for setting me aboard, you know. Then you row back. Here's a boat that'll do," he broke off, pointing to a small whitehall boat made fast to the staging. "Get in, and pull me out."
The pair stepped into the little craft, and when Dave began rowing Jack continued his instructions.
"When you get back to the float," he said, "you just make this boat fast, and hide under the shadow of those stairs on the outside of the Casino—you know?"
"Yes, sir."
"Wait for a boat from the yacht with three or four men in it.—Pull on your port oar a bit; that's good.—When they get ashore and go up the wharf, you take their tender and rush her out to a mooring same as Mr. Taberman's done. Do you see?"
"Guess so, sir," was Dave's response. "Do you want me to catch the same one?"
"Any one'll do, provided it won't be seen by a boat pulling ashore from the Merle. You won't have to go far to hide in this fog.—Little stronger on your port oar again; tide's cutting you down.—When you hear Mr. Taberman hailing, you stand by, and as soon as a boat goes by in answer, you pull out to the yacht and make fast astern. Give her plenty of painter; all she's got. Do you see now?"
"I guess I do, sir. You're going to have a boat on every davit that way, ain't you, sir?"
"If it works," Jack answered in a low voice, for they were now under the yacht's port quarter.
Dave pulled around in silence to the steps on the starboard side.
"Here we are, sir," he said in an even tone as he caught at the ladder grating.
The Merle, dimly visible by the foggy glow of her riding-light, was pitching slightly in the chop,and the small dinghy bobbed up and down beside her like a cork beside a floating spar. The waves slapped against the yacht's sheer, wetting her top-sides with spray and poppling away merrily under her counter. In the thick dimness her masts loomed up almost supernaturally tall.
"Hello aboard the Merle," shouted Castleport.
"Hello?" answered a voice from forward, and in a moment a tall, burly figure appeared on deck by the ladder.
"What is it?" asked the tall man. "What d' you want?"
"Hello, Camper," cried Jack, recognizing the voice as that of his uncle's sailing-master. "Hello, Camper, don't you know me?"
He sprang up the steps and gained the deck.
"Why, Mr. Castleport," the skipper cried in a hearty tone, "whatever are you doin' here? Thought you was over to the Island. How are you, sir?"
"Cold," Jack answered with a laugh. "How's yourself? Fit as usual, I suppose. President aboard?"
"No, sir. He's gone ashore to some sort of a gatherin'. I never thought to see you here, sir."
"Oh, I came over to join the yacht here. I got tired of waiting. I shan't want you any longer,"he called down to the figure in the dinghy below. "Much obliged."
The dinghy and Dave melted into the blackness of the night.
"Come below, Mr. Castleport, sir. You'll have a bracer?" the genial sailing-master asked. "Nasty night, ain't it?"
"It is that," Jack agreed, "but I'm in hopes there'll be a change soon."
And smiling at the thought how truly the words expressed his secret intent, he followed the worthy Camper below.