CHAPTER VII.
As soon as I saw the face of Mr. Ben Waterford, I retreated to the cabin, and then to the steerage, where my trunk had been deposited. I felt as though I had seen the evil one, and he had laid his hand upon me. I was disgusted and disheartened. I had signed the shipping articles, and it was not easy to escape. Captain Farraday wanted me, or he would not have taken so much pains to induce me to ship. If my trunk had been on deck, I would have hailed a boat and escaped at all hazards; but I could not abandon the relics of my childhood, for I depended upon them to prove that Louise Farringford was my mother.
I asked myself what wicked thing I had done to deserve the fate which was evidently in store for me if I remained on board of the Michigan. Whatever I had done, it seemed to me that my punishment must be more than I could bear. Ben Waterford would be a demon in his relations to me, after the check I had been upon his evil deeds in Chicago. He was a man of violent temper when excited, and I regarded him as a malicious and a remorseless man.
It seemed stranger to me than it will to any of my readers, that this man should now appear in New York as the mate of the bark in which I had shipped. Still there was nothing which could not be easily reconciled, except the fact itself. I had myself heard him say, on board his yacht, when we were sailing on Lake Michigan, that he had been a sailor; that he had made several voyages—two of them as second mate, and one as chief mate. This was precisely the recommendation which had been given to Captain Farraday of his qualifications. He was a good sailor, and I had learned a great deal about vessels from him.
I concluded, after passing the circumstances through my mind, that he had failed in every other kind of business, and had been obliged to go to sea again. But if he was guilty of the forgery in St. Louis of which he was suspected, and of the robbery of my trunk, of which I was tolerably confident, he was well provided with funds; and certainly he was not compelled to go to sea to earn his living, though it would be convenient for him to be in any other locality than the United States for the next few months or years, till the excitement about the forgery had subsided.
The steward's room, where my trunk had been placed, was in the steerage—a rude apartment between decks, next to the cabin. Several rough pine bunks had been built here, for the cabin steward, carpenter, and sail-maker. The two latter were unusual officers on board a Mediterranean vessel. I was thinking in what manner I could get out of the bark, and I walked from the steerage forward. The hatches were off, and the hold was open. The vessel had but little freight, and was really going out in ballast, for a cargo of fruit. I did not wish to show myself to Ben Waterford, if I could possibly avoid it. I concluded that he would be on the quarter-deck with the captain. I went to the hatch, and ascended by the notched stanchion.
The crew were still engaged in their wild orgies, which they considered as mere skylarking; but the oaths and the roughness of their manners led me to avoid them. The captain and the mate were standing near the wheel, talking. I went to the side, and looked over into the water. The boat which had brought off the mate was still there. Two men sat in it, and I hoped I might be able to make a bargain with them to convey me to the shore. If I could escape, I intended to denounce Ben Waterford to the police on shore as the forger and robber, for in this way there was a chance that I might recover my gold.
I went to an open port, and beckoned to the two men in the boat, who appeared to be waiting for something. They obeyed my summons, and came up beneath the port.
"What do you want?" demanded one of them, as he stuck the boat-hook into the side of the bark.
"I will give you five dollars if you will take me and my trunk on shore," I replied, as loud as I dared speak.
"All right; I'll do it," replied the man, evidently satisfied with the liberal offer I made. "Hand down the trunk."
"What are you waiting for?" I added.
"The captain wants to send his papers to the custom-house; but never mind that. We will take you on shore as soon as you are ready."
"I will be ready as soon as I can get my trunk on deck," I answered.
"Hurry up. I understand the case. You are sick of your ship, and want to leave her. That's none of my business. I'll help you off, if you will hand over the money."
I gave the man one of the sovereigns I had purchased with the sixty dollars which remained of my funds.
"Bear a hand," said the man, as he glanced at the coin, and slipped it into his pocket.
"I will be ready in less than five minutes."
"Don't let them see you if you can help it."
I had already decided how the plan was to be carried out. A piece of whale line lay on the deck near the mainmast, one end of which I dropped down the hatch, making the other end fast at a belaying-pin on the fiferail. Fortunately for me, the men were forward of the house on deck, and the officers were on the quarter-deck, busily engaged in discussing some difficult subject, I judged, by the energy they used in their discourse. The two men who had come off with the mate were taking part in the discussion, and I was confident that Captain Farraday had forgotten all about me.
I descended to the between-decks after I had satisfied myself that I was not observed. Conveying my trunk to the hatch, I attached the whale line to one of the handles. Running up the notched stanchion again, I reached the deck, and took another careful survey of the surroundings before I proceeded any further. The men were still skylarking; the shipping agent sat on the rail watching them, and the group on the quarter-deck had not yet settled the dispute in which they were engaged. The open port was abreast of the hatch. Grasping the line, I hauled my trunk on deck. Dragging it to the port-hole, I lowered it into the boat, where it was taken by the two men.
"Hallo, there, Farringford! What are you about?" shouted Captain Farraday, rushing into the waist, followed by the mate and the two passengers.
I was just congratulating myself on my success in getting away, when my ears were saluted by this unwelcome call. I was determined not to be cast down by the unfortunate discovery, and seizing the rope by which I had lowered my trunk, I slid down upon it into the boat. I considered myself all right then; but youth is proverbially over-confident and over-enthusiastic. The men in the boat cast off the line from my trunk, and pushed off from the bark.
"Hallo, Farringford! Where are you going?" shouted the captain through the open port.
"I have concluded to go on shore again," I replied, with great equanimity, for I felt considerable assurance for the future, now that I was actually out of the bark.
"But you have signed the papers, and belong to the vessel now," replied Captain Farraday.
"I will thank you to scratch my name from the papers," I added.
"Phil Farringford!" shouted the wonderful mate, as he thrust his head out of the port-hole, and apparently for the first time saw and recognized me. "Don't let him get off!"
The head of the mate disappeared. I saw the interest he felt in the matter, and as soon as he comprehended the situation he was very active.
"Pull away!" said I to the men in the boat with me.
"Your chances are small, my lad," added the one with whom I had made my trade.
"We have the start of them."
"Not much."
"They have no boat ready."
"Yes, they have. The shipping master's boat is pulling around the bark to keep any of the crew from getting off. There it is; he has hailed it."
I saw a sharp and jaunty-looking boat pull up to the accommodation ladder. Captain Farraday and the new mate leaped into it, and the men gave way with a will.
"Pull, my men," I said, when I saw that my companions were not disposed to use their muscles very severely.
"No use; we can't pull this boat against that one."
"I will give you another sovereign if you will keep out of their way, and land me anywhere in the city," I added, feeling that I had lost all influence over the oarsmen because I had already paid them.
"We will do the best we can for you. Pull, Tom," replied the spokesman.
Then commenced an exciting race; and I will do my men the justice to say that they did the best they could. But the shipping master's boat was lighter and sharper, and his men were exceedingly well trained. Ben Waterford was in earnest, and not only crowded his oarsmen to their utmost, but he took a spare oar and helped them with his own muscle. Our pursuers were gaining upon us, and my heart sank within me.
"We are losing it," said the man at the stroke oar. "I am sorry for you, for I don't believe that bark is going to Palermo, or anywhere else up the Mediterranean."
"Where is she going?" I asked, startled by this suggestion.
"Of course I don't know; but, in my opinion, she is going to the coast of Africa."
"Coast of Africa!" I exclaimed.
"I don't know, but I think so."
"Her shipping papers say Palermo."
"Shipping papers are not of much account on such voyages."
"Pull away!" I cried, as I saw the other boat gaining upon us.
My men increased their efforts; and, as talking diminished their activity, I did not say any more, though I was anxious to know more about the Michigan. I did not yet understand why the bark should go to the coast of Africa, instead of Palermo.
"I put the Spaniard that went off with the first mate on board of a vessel a few months ago, which was seized before she got out of the harbor," said the boatman.
"Pull with all your might," I added, trying to help the man nearest to me.
"We are doing the best we can."
But we had not accomplished half the distance to the shore, and the pursuers were close upon us. A few more strokes decided the contest. I was in utter despair. The prospect of being in a vessel for three or four weeks, with Ben Waterford as chief mate, was intolerable, and I began to consider whether I had not better jump overboard. I felt as though I should never again see either father or mother, or the Gracewoods; and on such conditions life would be unsupportable. I do not mean to say that I meditated suicide; but I felt that I had better run any risk than be captured. If I had known as much then as I learned within a fortnight afterwards, I should have been even more desperate than I was.
"It's no use!" exclaimed my boatman, dropping his oar and giving up the contest.
The shipping master's boat ran alongside our craft, and the crew laid violent hands upon it. I was now face to face with Ben Waterford.