CHAPTER XVII.
I was alone again. I felt that we had lost our case. The men had given up the battle, drank their grog, and, under the influence of liquor, would be as willing to trade in human beings as to perform their ordinary duty. I could do nothing single-handed, and I might as well give up before I had suffered the tortures of the mate's wrath as afterwards. I would yield no principle, I would take no part in handling the vessel, but I would tell the mate where my gold was. I actually shuddered when I thought of having the money which I had earned by my labor applied to the purchase of human beings; but I did not see how I could help myself, for after I had been beaten and abused, my money was still likely to be found when the between-decks was prepared for the reception of the miserable wretches whose flesh and blood were to enrich Waterford and his infamous companions.
I looked around the steerage. It was fitted up with eight berths, but at present it was occupied only by the cabin steward, whose sympathies were with our party, though he had not yet committed himself. I afterwards learned the use to which this steerage was to be applied. As only a few of the crew could safely be informed of the nature of the unlawful voyage before they were shipped, of course not all of them could be expected to engage in the dangerous business without compulsion, and they were liable, as in the present instance, to ship a majority who would rather fight than incur the peril of being hanged or imprisoned for being concerned in it. But the officers were sure of five men,—the Spanish and Portuguese sailors,—for they had signed the shipping articles with their eyes wide open. Indeed, they had been employed to put down a mutiny, as well as to work the bark. It was not desirable to separate the crew; but, when it became necessary, those in the interests of the officers, or a sufficient number of them to enable the captain and mate to enforce their authority, were to be berthed in the steerage, where they could at all times be within hail of their superiors.
This plan is often, if not always, adopted in whalemen, where boat-steerers are regarded as officers, and are berthed in the steerage, in order to be used in subduing the crew in the event of any insubordination. I glanced about the place, and I found that it was also used as the armory. When I first came on board, I had seen no arms; but now there were four muskets, several pistols, and half a dozen cutlasses hung upon the bulkhead. Probably they had been brought out from their hiding-places since the disturbance with the crew. I wondered that the Spanish and Portuguese sailors were not already installed in their quarters; but I supposed the mate wished to have them mingle with the other hands forward as long as possible, so as to take note of any disaffection, and report it to him.
While I was looking about me, the cabin steward came into the steerage with my supper. His name was Palmer, and he was an American. He had a very light and fair complexion; and, though I had not seen much of him on board, I judged that he was a little inclined to be a dandy. He was about twenty-five years of age, and was certainly a very good-looking fellow—which he evidently believed himself.
"I am sorry for you, Phil," said he, as he placed his dishes in one of the berths.
"Are you really so?" I asked.
"I am, indeed; and if I dared to do so, I would let you go at once."
"You haven't the courage to do that, then?"
"The mate would murder me if I did."
"Then it does not make much difference how sorry you are for me," I added, rather despondent.
"I only wished to express my sympathy for you, and to say that, if I could, I would let you loose."
"I suppose you know what kind of a voyage this bark is bound upon?"
"I do; the mate told me yesterday, and I have heard enough said in the cabin before to make me understand all about it," answered the steward.
"Do you like the business?"
"No, I don't; but what can I do?"
"I don't know that you can do anything."
"If I had known what the voyage was to be, I would have hung myself rather than come on board. I have a little African blood in my veins, though I don't say much about it generally."
"Whether you have African blood in your veins or not, you must dislike a voyage like this. What did the mate say to you?"
"He told me I might loose one of your hands to let you eat your supper, but he would shoot me if I let you escape from the steerage," said he, unfastening the cord which bound my right arm to the stanchion.
"Can't you ease off the other just a little? The cord hurts my wrist very much."
"I'll do that."
He loosed the line, and thus to some extent relieved the pain I felt. He handed me some tea, bread and meat, of which I ate while we were talking.
"Where is the mate now?" I inquired.
"On deck."
"And the captain?"
"Drunk in his state-room. He came out to supper, but he did not eat anything; only drank two half tumblers of whiskey, and then turned in. I think the mate wishes to keep him drunk as much as possible, so that he won't meddle with the affairs of the vessel," replied the steward, in a whisper.
"Where are the two passengers?"
"They are on the deck with the mate."
"Do you know who they are?"
"I only know that they are Spaniards or Cubans. From what I hear them say, I judge that they and the mate find the money to buy the negroes, while the vessel and the captain have a share of the profits."
"Have they the money on board?"
"I don't know anything about it from what they say; but of course they have."
"You say the mate told you about the voyage yesterday. What did he say?"
"He didn't say much; and I think he spoke of it because I couldn't help hearing what was said in the cabin. He only told me to do my duty, and I should make a thousand dollars out of the cruise."
"What did you say?"
"I told him I should do my duty. I was afraid of him, and I let him believe that I didn't care whether the bark went a slaving or not. I have always kept on the right side of him, but I hate him worse than I hate the evil one. If I hadn't a mother on shore to take care of, I'd sink the ship, and go down in her, rather than have anything to do with slaving."
"Are you a spy, sent here by the mate to sound me?" I added, suddenly, looking him in the face very earnestly.
"That's too bad, Phil!" said he, springing to his feet. "I only pity you because you stood out against the mate, and against slaving."
"You say you have kept on the right side of the mate?"
"I have, for my own comfort and safety. My mother was a slave—but no matter about that," he added; and before I knew what he was about, he had unloosed my left hand.
"What are you doing?" I demanded.
"If you think I am a spy, I will prove to you that I am not. I will set you free, though it costs me my life."
"Don't do it, Palmer. Pardon me for what I said. You need not wonder that I am suspicious in a vessel like this."
"I don't wonder; but you shall not suspect me, if I can do anything to prevent it."
"I do not suspect you any longer. I am satisfied that you are a good fellow, and true at heart. But put the cords on as you found them; I will not get you into trouble, whatever happens to me."
"No, you shall be free. Perhaps you can bring the men up to the scratch again, for they have all backed down. They drank their grog when I gave it to them this afternoon."
"If you are really my friend,—and I know you are now,—you can serve me better than by loosing my bonds at this moment."
"I will do just what you tell me to do," replied the steward.
"I have full confidence in you. Tie my hands up just as you found them, only not quite so tight."
He followed my directions; and, as I had finished my supper, he made fast my right arm to the stanchion. I had my doubts about trusting this man with the secret of the crew; but, since our party had given in their adherence to the mate, and the plan had been practically abandoned, so far as I knew, I did not feel that I need distrust him.
"Palmer, where do you sleep?" I asked.
"Here," he replied, pointing to his berth.
"What time do you turn in?"
"Any time when I can; sometimes at eight bells, sometimes at two."
"What time do the mate and the passengers turn in?"
"Mr. Waterford always turns in at eight when he has the mid-watch. The Spaniards sometimes sit up till eleven, but generally turn in by ten. Why do you ask, Phil?"
"If you really wish to serve me, Palmer, you can do so."
"I'll do anything you tell me, even if it costs me my life; for I would rather die than be in a slave ship. My mother—no matter about that. She was a slave once, and I never will help any man or woman into slavery if I can avoid it."
"All right, Palmer. You may be able to save the bark from this miserable business. But I will not say anything more now."
"What shall I do?" asked the steward, not a little excited.
"Don't turn in till all is quiet in the cabin. The second mate has the first watch to-night. Give the captain all the whiskey he wants, and when the mate and passengers have turned in, and you think they are asleep, then come into the steerage and let me know."
"I will do all just as you say."
"Don't bring any lights, and don't act as though anything had happened. Go now."
"You may depend upon me, Phil. I meant to take sides with your men as soon as I dared to do so."
"Hold on a minute, Palmer. Are there any guns or pistols in the cabin?"
"The Spaniards have revolvers in their state-rooms, and they loaded them this forenoon, when the row on deck took place."
"We don't want to kill any one, or have any one killed. If you could draw the charges from their revolvers, and bring their ammunition in here, you might help matters."
"What do you mean to do, Phil?" asked the steward, opening his eyes very wide.
"We haven't time to talk about it now; but if there is any back-bone left in the men, we will have the bark before morning," I whispered in his ear.
"I'll do all I can."
"Where are the powder and ball for these guns and pistols?" I asked.
"Here, in that box in the corner."
"All right."
The cabin steward left the steerage, and I felt that I had an ally whose aid made success hopeful, if not certain. I was excited by the prospect. I intended, as soon as all was quiet in the cabin, to make my way to the forecastle through the between-decks, and stir up the men to carry out the project we had arranged. Right and justice, as well as self-preservation, demanded action.