CHAPTER XXVI.
It was "all hands on deck" the rest of that night, and the gale came with a fury which I had never seen before. I was second mate of the bark; and, though it was not expected of me, I took the lead in reefing and furling. I was ambitious to do my whole duty, and what I lacked in experience I endeavored to make up in courage and resolution. The captain and the veteran mate gave me a great deal of credit for my exertions, and when the gale broke, I was tolerably well satisfied with myself, as boys of eighteen generally are.
In the midst of the gale we transferred our prisoners to their old quarters in the steerage, tied them as before, and placed a guard over them. Captain Farraday said nothing, and seemed to be mourning the loss of his rum. Waterford was sullen and silent; and I thought he had abandoned all hope of escaping his fate, which was nothing less than the penitentiary for a long term. The two Spanish gentlemen seemed to take their lot more hardly than the others. They offered money, and everything else they had to offer, if we would land them at one of the West India or the Madeira Islands.
At noon the next day the gale broke, and after the storm came a calm. We were glad of the quiet which followed, and within the next twenty-four hours there was a great deal of heavy sleeping done on board of the Michigan. We released the five Spanish and Portuguese sailors, though without much regard to the solemn promises they made us; for with the rum had gone their power to do mischief on board of the vessel. We watched them closely, but we made them work.
"I ought to have let you leave the bark, Phil, when you wanted to do so," said Waterford, as I called down to see the prisoners after the gale.
"That was your blunder; and I have made more out of it than you have," I replied.
"I suppose you have divided the money before this time."
"No; we mean to be honest men; and we shall hand everything over to the government officers."
"That don't include your fifteen hundred dollars—does it?"
"No; what is mine belongs to me, and the government officers have nothing to do with my money, any more than they have with my clothes," I answered.
"There is gold in my trunk to the amount of about eight thousand dollars," he continued.
"I know there is. Where did you get that gold, Waterford?"
"I bought it in St. Louis."
"With the money obtained on the forged checks?"
"Yes; I spoke for the gold at a broker's, and he had it all ready for me. Then I presented my checks, and in less than fifteen minutes after they were paid, I was on my way out of the city. My plans would have worked well, if you had not crossed my path."
"Then the gold really belongs to the banks who paid the forged checks?"
"I suppose so. I have nothing more to expect in this world, and I don't care what becomes of it."
I did not tell him that he had nothing to expect in the next world, any more than in this, but that was the thought in my mind. His failure to recover the bark had completely disheartened him, and, like others whom I had seen under similar circumstances, he appeared to find relief in confessing his error, or at least in pointing out the cause of the miscarriage of his plans.
"Did you intend to rob me when you left St. Louis?" I asked.
"No; not exactly, though I knew you had the gold. I was afraid you would see and recognize me. I watched you closely, without being seen myself. I went to your trunk, and took your money when you were on the hurricane deck of the steamer. I had decided to go mate of this vessel, and went from New York to St. Louis to raise the money to enable me to buy some negroes on my own account. I wanted all I could get, and your gold was very convenient. I should have made a fortune out of this voyage, and then I intended to go to Chicago, marry Marian Collingsby, and be happy. You have spoiled my plan, and I have given up in despair."
"The plan was too wicked to succeed, even if you had not seen me. If you had made your fortune out of the flesh and blood of your fellow-beings, you would never have been happy with it; and Marian would have married a boa constrictor rather than you. Men may seem to succeed, but God never permits them really to do so, in such schemes."
"I am not quite ready to listen to any cant yet; I may be by and by," said he, bitterly. "You thwarted me once before, and I hated you. I came with you all the way from Parkersburg. I wanted you in the same vessel with me, for I knew, as you had lost your money, you must either work your passage or return to St. Louis. When I met Captain Farraday, I set him at work upon you, and succeeded in getting you on board of the vessel. I wanted to punish you; but the tables are turned upon me, and you are punishing me."
"I have no wish to punish you. For all the injury you have done me, and have tried to do me, I forgive you."
"Will you let me escape?"
"No; I have a duty to the community which will not permit me to do that."
"I don't understand your kind of forgiveness—that which would send a man to prison for ten or twenty years."
"I can forgive the personal wrong you have done me, but I have no right to throw a pirate upon the community—one who is willing to steal the child from his father, the wife from her husband."
"There's no use in talking," he added, hopelessly.
"Certainly not, if you expect to escape through my agency."
I left him; and I felt that crime was pretty sure of its punishment, even in this world.
But my story is really told. The rest of our passage was comfortable and pleasant, and at daylight one morning in May, we came in sight of Sandy Hook. We had all our prisoners safe, and our voyage was ended. We took a pilot, and, as we were going through the Narrows, we overhauled a handsome clipper ship, which had been in sight since daybreak. The Michigan outsailed her; and, as we came up, I was surprised and delighted to see upon her stern the word "Bayard," for this was the ship in which the Gracewoods were to come home. I saw upon her quarter-deck a gentleman and two ladies. One of them must be Ella, and my heart was thrilled at the discovery. But how tall she had grown! We took the ship's wind, and went by her. I hailed the party by name, and shouted my own. Though they responded to my signals, I concluded that they did not recognize me.
We ran up the bay, and anchored off the Battery, near where the revenue cutter lay. Captain York, at my request, sent me on shore to give information of the state of affairs on board to the proper authorities. I found the United States marshal, and told my story in detail. He sent a force to take possession of the vessel, and secure the prisoners. Captain Farraday, Waterford, and the two Spanish passengers were taken to the Tombs. Martino and his fellow-pirates were not arrested; they were too small game. In the cabin nearly fifty thousand dollars in gold was found; but I put in a claim for that in Waterford's trunk on behalf of the banks of St. Louis which had paid the forged checks. The present officers and crew were directed to hold themselves in readiness to attend the examination of the slave traders.
The Bayard came up the harbor and anchored. As soon as I could leave the Michigan, I hastened on board of her. The Gracewoods were going on shore; but such a welcome as they extended to me gladdened my heart. Ella gave me both hands, and blushed like a June rose. She had not only grown tall, but handsome; and I was glad to know that she still regarded me as kindly as ever. The health of Mrs. Gracewood was completely restored, and my excellent friend and instructor seemed to have grown younger since we parted four years before. I went on shore with them, and it seemed to me I had never been so happy in my life. I told Ella I was second mate of the bark, and she expressed her astonishment so prettily that I felt rewarded for all the trials and discouragements of the voyage, as well as for its triumphs. I went to the hotel with my friends, and spent the rest of the day with them, talking over the events of the past.
The slaveholders were examined and committed for trial. The bark was taken possession of by the authorities, and the crew discharged. The name and address of each man were taken, for they were deemed to be entitled to a share in "the moiety of the vessel and her lading," after she had been condemned and sold. I found my gold safe, and of course I did not leave it in the bark. As we were not required for some time in New York, I went to St. Louis with the Gracewoods. My father gave me a warm welcome, of course, and so did all my other friends.
"I did not expect you back so soon, Philip," said he.
"O, I have only come back on a visit. I must go again in a short time; for I intend to see my mother, if possible, before the summer is ended," I replied, lightly.
"I suppose you consider yourself a sailor now."
"I ought to be; I came home second mate of the bark Michigan. I can hand, reef, and steer; make a short splice, a long splice, an eye splice, a cringle, a Turk's head; can worm, serve, and parcel."
"You have a briny look, as though you had just escaped from a pickle barrel."
"O, I'm as salt as a red herring."
"I hope you have had enough of the sea."
"Enough as a sailor before the mast; but if ever I am a rich man, I intend to have a yacht, and go round the world in her."
"I'm afraid you will never be rich enough to do that."
"If I am not I will not complain."
"You didn't make much on this cruise," laughed my father.
"In money probably two or three thousand dollars, and in experience and knowledge as much more."
I explained my plans and views to my father; but as I intended to go to Europe by steamer, as soon as I could get rid of the trial of the slave traders, he offered no objection. I remained in St. Louis a week, when the United States marshal wrote for me to appear in New York. Before I went, I called on my friend Mr. Lamar, and told him all about Waterford; and when I started, an agent of the banks went with me to claim the money which the pirate had obtained from them by forgery. This claim was established and allowed, and the loss of the banks was made good to them. The trial of the slavers came on sooner than I had reason to expect, and they were sentenced to three years' imprisonment—which I thought was a very mild punishment.
The bark was condemned and sold, with all her stores and cargo, and, including my share of the Spaniards' money, which was regarded as part of the "lading," I had the handsome sum of twenty-five hundred dollars. As we all fared alike in the division, my shipmates were willing to acknowledge that, even in a pecuniary point of view, it was better to do right than to do wrong. Sanderson and Baxter kept sober after they went on shore, and both of them are now temperance men. Baxter is chief mate of a large Indiaman, and Sanderson has retired to a little farm in Maine, which he bought with his share of the prize-money. Of the rest of the crew I know nothing; but I suppose most of them kept drunk till they had spent all their money, or had been robbed of what they did not spend, and then went to sea again; but I will venture to say that none of them ever voluntarily served in a slave ship.
I was prepared for more sea swashes, for I liked the sea. I was ready to sail for Europe as a passenger in a steamer. I hoped soon to find my mother, and unite our little family under one roof in St. Louis. And so, for a time, I abandonedCringle and Cross-tree.
THE UPWARD AND ONWARD SERIES.
1.Field and Forest;or, The Fortunes of a Farmer.
2.Plane and Plank;or, The Mishaps of a Mechanic.
3.Desk and Debit;or, The Catastrophes of a Clerk.
4.Cringle and Cross-Tree;or, The Sea Swashes of a Sailor.
IN PREPARATION.
5.Bivouac and Battle;or, The Struggles of a Soldier.
6.Sea and Shore;or, The Tramps of a Traveller.