CHAPTER VI.A STERN CHASE.
We two lads were given over to fear and anxiety, as the hours went by and no one came to relieve us.
We had partially satisfied our hunger with the contents of the nineteenth pannikin, and had plenty of water close at hand with which to quench our thirst; but even though we had suffered for both these necessaries, it would have been as nothing compared to the distress of mind while imagining that the worst might be happening on deck.
The prisoners must have understood, both because they had not been taken out for exercise and owing to our being thus neglected, that something serious was in the wind.
For a time they plied us with questions, and then, realising that we either could or would not afford them any satisfaction, gave over the attempt.
I fancied they appeared disturbed, as if it were possible to guess somewhat of the situation, and I also wondered if there were really another man, who, having by some mysterious means gotten out of the brig, lurked about near at hand ready to do whatsoever he might toward releasing his comrades.
Before noon we understood that the wind was increasing in force, for the ship plunged into the deeps of the waves and clambered up again in such manner as told that she was labouring heavily.
Other than by the motion of the craft it was impossible to even guess what might be going on above, save that we might be in pursuit of an enemy.
We knew full well our crew was so strong in numbers that a dozen men might have been spared, even in the midst of the most furious tempest, to relieve us for at least so long as would be necessary to get our dinner.
Because of our mental anxiety, it was impossible to form any fair idea regarding the passage of time; but it seemed to me as if the night must have come, when Simon said, in a whisper, his voice quavering wofully:
“Would you be willing to stay here alone, while I went on deck to learn what may be happening?”
“It seems positive one of the prisoners is outside the brig, and it might be that, when there was only a single boy on guard, he would make an attempt at setting his comrades free,” I replied, rejoicing that I had so valid an excuse to give; for, of a verity, I should have been in sore distress at being forced to remain there alone, even though all the Britishers were safe within the prison.
“I would give much to know why they have seemingly forgotten us,” the lad said, with a long-drawn sigh.
“Then stay here, and I’ll find out in a twinkling.”
“If it is dangerous for you to be here alone, surely I should not be asked to take the chances.”
“I’m not asking you; but simply showing how we may learn what has happened.”
“Some one must come in course of time, no matter how much mischief has been done, and perhaps it is just as well if we wait patiently,” he said, with an effort to speak in a cheery strain, and at that instant I could have cried aloud with joy, for the gleam of dull light from the hatchway was shut off by the figure of a man.
It was Tim Stubbs, who had come thus tardily to our relief, and I dare venture to say he was never before greeted so warmly or heartily.
Both us lads ran toward him, laying hold of his garments before he could descend the ladder, as if we feared he might reconsider his purpose of paying us a visit.
“Had quite a long spell of standin’ watch, eh, boys?” he cried, cheerily, glancing quickly around, to make certain all was well.
“We’ve been here all day, and the cooks have even forgotten to bring the prisoners’ supper. What is the matter?” I cried, impatiently.
“I reckon the Britishers can hold on till night before they howl for another feed.”
“Isn’t it dark yet?” Simon asked, in surprise.
“Dark, lad? No, nor it won’t be for three or four hours. The crew have just been served with dinner. I got through with my share of the grub first, an’ slipped down here without orders, to see how you was comin’ on.”
“What has happened that you’ve been kept waiting solong for something to eat?” Simon cried, and I began to despair of getting any information from this sailor, who had stood our friend ever since we recovered from the attack of homesickness and seasickness.
“First an’ foremost, the wind got up a bit, all in a jump, an’ we had a lively job gettin’ the old hooker snugged down to it. Then we’d no more’n—”
“Have we run into another gale?” Simon interrupted.
“Well, lad, I allow we’ve got what you might call a leetle more’n half a full breeze, with the chances that there’ll be greater weight to the wind before mornin’.”
“Was it so bad that, out of all the crew, none could come down here to relieve us a few moments?” I asked, irritably, for there was in my mind a sense of being needlessly neglected.
“Not exactly that, lad; but we’d no sooner snugged her down in good shape, when a Britisher heaves in sight. Nothin’ would satisfy the old man but that we must shake two reefs out of the topsails, an’ set the maintopgallantsail. It wasn’t what you might call easy work, an’, accordin’ to my thinkin’, we’re likely to carry away another spar before midnight.”
“And you’ve been at that work all day?” Simon cried, incredulously.
“Well, it amounts to that, for we’ve humped ourselves lively since the word was given to shorten sail, which didn’t come till nigh on to noon. The old man racked his brains all the mornin’ to find somethin’ to keep us busy, an’ you can make up your mind that there was no sodgerin’while he stumped the quarter-deck, lookin’ sour enough to shame vinegar.”
“Why weren’t the prisoners taken on deck for exercise?”
“That’s a question the captain may best answer. All I can say is, that every man Jack of us has been on the clean jump since you came below. If the old man thinks he can work last night’s business out of our heads, he’s makin’ a big mistake. The port watch had no more’n got below than they fell to jawin’ about it livelier than ever. Josh Seabury says there’s a chance to save our lives if theAmerica’scourse is changed right soon.”
“You’ll hardly see the ship heading for home while there’s a Britisher in sight, and I should think the men would be ashamed to speak of such a possibility,” Simon cried, stoutly, and it was no more than right for him to say whatsoever he might by way of defending his father.
“Well, the Britisher is in sight, an’ that’s about all you can say,” Tim Stubbs replied, reflectively. “We’ve picked up somethin’ this time that ain’t to be overhauled in short order. It’s a question in my mind which craft is the best sailer. Both of ’em has the same rig, an’ it’s a toss-up whether we’re gainin’ ground or fallin’ astern.”
“Are we carrying much sail?” Simon asked.
“You’ll think so when you look aloft. We’re dressed out in fine-weather style, with every rag tuggin’ at the spars fit to jump ’em clean out of the old hooker, even if they was the best timber ever cut. If theAmericaholdsall her sticks till mornin’, I’ll be willin’ to say that I didn’t hear any ghost’s voice last night, nor see a bit of white in the fore-hatchway.”
“Is it a ship we’re chasing?” I asked, with a view of preventing Stubbs from dwelling on that very disagreeable happening.
“Ay, lad, an’ a clipper. I counted that theAmericacould outsail anything that ever floated; but she’s come mighty nigh to meetin’ her match this time. I’ll venture to say there isn’t the difference of half a cable’s-length betwixt us and her, from what there was when she first hove in sight. She brought down a fog bank with her, an’ was showin’ topgallantsails when we sighted. It ain’t any two to one but that she carries as much metal as we, an’ even if we overhaul her, there won’t be any child’s play to follow.”
“If the Britisher is well armed, why should she run away?” Simon asked, now grown so interested in the chase that the fears which had assailed him were almost forgotten.
“Most likely she can’t make up her mind how heavy we are, or she may have no stomach for a fight jest now; but it’s certain that we won’t put a prize-crew on board, if it so be we overhaul her, which I misdoubt, without payin’ a good price for the privilege.”
It can well be imagined that the prisoners were listening eagerly to all Stubbs was saying.
We three had remained near the foot of the ladder, within four or five yards of the door of the brig, and thesailor spoke in a tone so loud that they could not fail to catch every word.
As I came suddenly to realise this once more, my thoughts went back to the fact that one of the men had succeeded in getting out of the prison, and straightway the desire to give such information to the captain or Mr. Fernald grew strong within me.
For an instant I made up my mind to explain the situation to Stubbs, but checked myself as I came to understand that it was my duty to first make the captain acquainted with what we had learned.
“Is there any good reason why you can’t hold on here for a spell?” I asked, abruptly, interrupting the sailor as he was about to tell us more regarding the chase.
“There’s no knowin’ when all hands may be called, an’ while the old man has got such a lively bee in his bonnet I wouldn’t like to be missin’ when wanted.”
“But it isn’t reasonable to keep us here all day on a stretch, without food, when there are so many aboard who must be idling,” I cried, hotly.
“I grant you that, lad; but it’s the captain’s business to send orders that you be relieved.”
“If you’ll stand here five minutes, I’ll tell the captain what you are doing, and why we pressed you into service,” Simon said, eagerly, whereupon I, believing that one of the prisoners was probably lurking about close at hand ready for mischief, understood that it would not be safe for Stubbs to remain on duty alone unless we had first warned him of the possible danger.
“Stubbs shall stay here with me, and you may go on deck, Simon,” I cried, giving my comrade a look which I hoped he would understand as meaning that he was to acquaint his father with what we had learned.
The lad nodded his head as if in reply to my glance, and, without waiting for the sailor’s permission, ran up the ladder at full speed.
I asked Stubbs if the men still felt disturbed by last night’s occurrences, whereupon he replied, in a tone which plainly told that he thought me a simple for venturing such a question:
“After you’ve seen a thing, an’ heard a thing speak, how’re you goin’ to get it out of your head, simply because the captain gives the command that you must? We’ll allow that the carryin’ away of the topmast on a Friday didn’t signify nothin’, an’ that Josh Seabury is way off his reckonin’ when he holds that it was a warnin’ for us to bring this ’ere cruise to an end. That leaves us free an’ clear up to last night, when that bloomin’ thing popped out of the fore-hatchway. Now you’ll agree, as must every honest man, that shadows don’t show white, an’ stars can’t throw out any light when the mist covers ’em entirely. It couldn’t be anything more or less than a ghost, lad.”
“But there are no such things, Stubbs!” I cried, hoping to convince myself by speaking in a loud tone. “No one but a foolish old shellback like Master Joshua would ever allow that there are ghosts.”
“When you see a thing, you’re bound to believe in it,no matter what any one else may say,” the sailor replied, stubbornly. “But as Josh Seabury asks: Allowin’ that all hands of us fell to dreamin’, an’ neither you, nor me, nor the rest of the watch saw anything, what do you make of the order for us to put back to port? Who or what was it yelled the words in sich a way as no livin’ man can yell, an’ what did the thing mean by sayin’ the cruise was ended?”
It would have been better for my own peace of mind if I had not brought the conversation around to this point.
Instead of convincing Stubbs there were no such things as ghosts, he had, by repeating Master Joshua’s arguments, almost persuaded me that we had seen and heard a veritable spirit, whose mission it was to warn us of impending danger.
I fell silent, and the sailor began filling his pipe as he walked toward the prison, bent on holding friendly converse with those who, through the unlawful acts of the king, had unwittingly become our enemies.
The Britishers questioned him eagerly concerning the chase, and he freely gave the desired information, discussing with them the chances of overhauling the ship, which he appeared to consider were very slight.
I did not care to listen, even though I burned to learn all that had taken place while Simon and I were forced to remain in the darkness.
Talking with Stubbs concerning the events of the previous evening had aroused all my nervous fears, and I was quite prepared to believe that whosoever had escapedfrom the brig was making ready to attack us, although what might have been gained if all the prisoners were at that moment released from the brig, I could not have explained.
Standing with my back to the ladder lest some one might creep up from behind, and my musket ready for immediate use, I waited, feverishly impatient, for Simon’s return.
He came after perhaps half an hour had passed, although the time seemed to me much longer than that, and I saw at once he had failed in his purpose.
“You didn’t speak with your father!” I cried, in a tone of reproof, and indeed for the instant it was to me as if the lad had failed because of negligence.
“It couldn’t be done,” he said in a half-whisper. “Word has been passed that none of the crew are to come aft even so far as the break of the deck, without being summoned, and the third officer stands there, holding for dear life on the mizzen-shrouds, lest the heavy waves sweep him over the rail, to stop any who dare make the venture.”
“I should have tried it at all hazards. There isn’t an officer on board who would have prevented you from gaining speech with your father.”
“That was what I believed, but soon learned my mistake. The boatswain pulled me back, and when I told him that I must speak with the captain at once on important business, he swore he’d put me in irons if I didn’t go forward.”
“What is the meaning of such orders?” I asked, indignantly, and Simon whispered in my ear:
“Master Joshua told me the port watch had sworn the ship should be put about without loss of time, and were making for the quarter-deck when the captain and two of the mates drove them back at the point of their pistols. It’s little less than mutiny, and the men openly admit as much.”
“But surely you wouldn’t be mistaken for a mutineer!”
“The third officer and the boatswain must obey orders, and you know full well that I don’t count as being the captain’s son while we’re members of the crew.”
Surely the situation must be serious if such precautions had been taken, and I said to myself that the cruise was indeed likely to be ended very shortly, omens or no omens, unless there was a speedy change in affairs.
Then, after a pause, and rather for the sake of continuing a conversation than because I had any real curiosity regarding the matter, I asked:
“Did you see the Britisher?”
“Ay, and she’s staggering under the same canvas as we. It doesn’t seem possible either craft can stand up very long under such a press of sail. It is blowing a full gale; our decks are awash, and the ship is burying herself to such an extent that every third or fourth wave sweeps over her from stem to stern. It’s enough to make a fellow turn pale with fear, to stand there five minutes watching the surge towering on either hand, ahead and astern, even above the mastheads. Twice, while trying to make my way aft, I was like to being washed overboard. Some of the men say that my father is doing his best to makegood the words spoken by the ghost last night, for it surely seems as if the cruise would be ended very shortly.”
Simon’s courage was no better than mine, and verily we were an unhappy pair.
At that moment there came before my eyes a picture of the home in Salem where my mother awaited the return of her son, and I wondered why I should have been such a fool as ever to leave her when there was no real need for so doing.
Then I bethought me of our own immediate trouble, and asked, angrily:
“Did you learn why we have been left here so long? Are we to be starved?”
“I question much if those aft remember that we were left in charge of the prisoners, or, remembering it, if they suppose that we have not been relieved.”
“If both watches have been kept on deck since daylight, who could have taken our places?” I cried, angrily.
“With a veritable mutiny on hand, a gale of wind, and a Britisher to be caught, we two lads don’t cut any great figure on board just at present,” Simon replied, with a faint smile, and then I understood that his heart was even more sore than mine, because of having been denied the privilege of going aft, particularly since he had seldom made the attempt.
Tim Stubbs discovered about this time that he should be on the gun-deck, and would have left us hurriedly but that I clutched at his arm, holding him sufficiently long to ask:
“Do you intend that we shall spend four and twenty hours here alone, with nothing to eat?”
“It isn’t anything I can help, lad. I’ll speak to the bo’sun about it, if I get the chance.”
Then he freed himself from my grasp and was gone, leaving Simon and me gazing discontentedly into each other’s eyes.
Lest he who chances to read these lines should be brought to think that Simon Ropes and I were babies, who could not remain on duty twelve hours at a stretch without weeping and wailing over it, let me call attention to the general situation, which was sufficient to take the heart out of lads far stronger than we two.
Had it been necessary for us to stand guard four and twenty hours, or even twice that length of time on a stretch, because we were in pursuit of an enemy, the labour would have seemed as nothing. Or, had any ordinary event in a sailorman’s life rendered it important that we should perform even a more laborious task, not a word of complaint would have been heard from our lips.
It was the nameless dread which had come upon us since the evening previous; the haunting fear that one of the prisoners was lying in wait to make a sudden attack; the possibility that the men might rise in mutiny,—it was all these which rendered us timid and peevish.
We gave way to terror unnecessarily at this particular time, however, for Tim Stubbs had hardly more than leftus before two old shellbacks came down to relieve us, stipulating, as we hastened toward the ladder in our eagerness to breathe the fresh air once more, that we should bring them news of the chase from time to time.
“We’ll keep you posted,” I cried, “and you in turn are to be on the alert every instant. Have your muskets where they may be come at handily, and be quick at facing about in case you hear any unusual noise from behind.”
Some of the prisoners looked at me oddly as I gave this advice, which was as near as I cared to come at revealing what I believed to be the true state of affairs, and one of the sailors asked:
“Have you lads grown chicken-hearted from bein’ down here in the dark? What need have we of muskets while the Britishers remain safe behind them ’ere wooden bars?”
“There’s no knowing what might happen,” I replied, speaking gravely in order that the words should have more weight. “It isn’t safe to think everything is in proper order when there’s a chance that appearances may be deceitful.”
I was looking full in the face of one of the prisoners as I spoke, and it seemed to me that the fellow changed colour; but of this I could not be positive.
However, I did not stop many seconds to observe the effect of my words.
It seemed to me certain I could succeed in gaining speech with the captain, regardless of the orders that no one should go aft, and I followed Simon on deck, feelingthat such time of suspense as had been caused by the Britishers would soon be at an end.
On the gun-deck we found the watch off duty, or a certain number of the men, crouching very close together in private converse, and this, to my mind, boded no good.
They ceased talking as Simon and I approached, which was additional proof that they had been plotting mischief.
Surely the gale, which appeared, judging from the ship’s motions, to be increasing in force each instant, and the knowledge that we were in hot pursuit of an enemy, should have kept their thoughts from mutiny; but that which they had seen and heard was too mysterious and uncanny to be driven from their minds, whatever the counter attraction.
Simon and I literally clawed our way along, forced to keep a firm hold continually upon something, else the terrific upward bounds and downward plunges of the ship would have flung us headlong against the gun-carriages.
I had never before found it so difficult to keep my footing; never believed a huge ship could be tossed in such fashion by the wind and waves.
It seemed to me in the highest degree foolhardy to continue the chase under such circumstances, and I questioned if it had not already been abandoned.
“What sail are we under?” I asked of the man nearest, bawling the words in his ear because the uproar even down there between decks was so great that one was forced to shout in order to make himself heard.
“Carryin’ everything that can be jammed on her,” the sailor replied, with a growl of discontent. “The captain is bound to make good the words of the ghost, an’, accordin’ to the looks of things, I’d say the cruise is like to be ended in short order.”