THE MARBLEHEAD TORY. "'Now, Luke Watts! they'll hang ye yet,' said Captain Avery."THE MARBLEHEAD TORY."'Now, Luke Watts! they'll hang ye yet,' said Captain Avery."
THE MARBLEHEAD TORY. "'Now, Luke Watts! they'll hang ye yet,' said Captain Avery."THE MARBLEHEAD TORY."'Now, Luke Watts! they'll hang ye yet,' said Captain Avery."
THE MARBLEHEAD TORY."'Now, Luke Watts! they'll hang ye yet,' said Captain Avery."
"No, they won't," said Watts. "I've taken across ship after ship for 'em. I'm a known Tory, ye know. Worst kind. I promised jest sech another good Tory, in London, though, that I'd try and deliver this cargo to the blasted rebels. It's mostly guns, and ammunition, and clothing. I managed to git written orders from Captain Milliard, commandin' our convoy, to run through the Sound, contrary to my advice. You see, he's an opinionated man. I got him swearin' mad, and I had to obey, ye know. It has turned out jest as I warned him it would, and he can't say a word."
"You're a razor!" laughed Avery. "Then you tacked right over within easy reach of us, all reg'lar. Now! What are we to do with the crew? We don't want 'em on shore."
"Well!" said Watts. "The 'pressed men'll jine ye, all of 'em. They hate me like p'ison, for I da'sn't let 'em have a smell of how it really is. Take good care of Brackett, anyhow. He's a prime seaman. He saved one of our fellows from a floggin', once. All the rest o' the crew deserve somethin' better'n prison."
"Prison?" said Avery. "They're not prisoners of war. I don't want 'em, even if they are. I wouldn't hurt a hair o' their heads. I'm no butcher."
"Come on deck, then," said Watts, "and be kerful how you talk anythin' but rough to me."
Up they went, to find both vessels sailing steadily away toward the mouth of the harbor. Already they were so near that a booming cannon from Fort Griswold informed that theNoank'ssuccess was joyfully understood on shore.
The crew of theWindsorwere now summoned up from their temporary confinement in the hold, and were ordered to get out their own longboat ready for launching. They were told that all British tars were to go free and to make the best of their way to New York or to the first British ship they might meet. The impressed Americans listened in silence, for every man of them knew that in case of his escape, even in this manner, there would be thenceforth a possible rope around his neck. Whether impressed or not, he was considered bound to stick to the British flag, come what might.
"Captain Watts," said the commander of theNoank, "do you demand these men? They are Americans."
"I do demand them," replied Watts. "You have no right to keep them, and they'll all be hung as deserters."
"They can't help themselves," said Captain Avery, furiously. "Sam Prentice, iron every one o' those 'pressed men and put 'em all down in the hold. If they try to git away, shoot 'em. I'll put 'em ashore or kill 'em. You can't have 'em, Watts."
"That saves 'em," whispered Watts to himself. "He's another razor. I can report jist how they were took."
At all events, not one of the nine Americans made any resistance which called for shooting him.
"Now, Luke Watts," said the angry American privateer captain, "it's your turn. You are taken in arms against your country. Sam Prentice, Levi Hotchkiss, Vine Avery, speak out! Shall we hang Luke Watts? Or shall we shoot him? Or shall we let him go?"
"We can't safely let him go," began Sam. "He's a dangerous traitor."
"I protest!" interrupted Mate Brackett, courageously. "He has only done his duty to his king. He wasn't even serving on a ship of war. You haven't any right to hang him."
"You're an Englishman," said Avery. "I didn't ask you. Shut your mouth!"
"I won't!" said Brackett; "not if you shoot me. If you hang Captain Watts, we'll hang a dozen Yankees. We've plenty of 'em, too. It'll be blood for blood!"
"Father," said Vine, "let him go. All the men'd say so."
Behind him at that moment stood Up-na-tan, grinning ferociously, with his glittering long knife out.
"So! So! Up-na-tan!" he snarled. "Take 'calp! No let him go. Knife good! Kill!"
None of the others were doing anything theatrical except the two captains, and all the while the longboat was hurriedly made ready for the short and entirely safe, but probably cold, uncomfortable voyage before them.
"Captain Luke Watts," said his captor, sternly, "I suppose I must let you go. Don't let me ever ketch ye again, though. It's time for us to hang Tories. Brackett, you and your men lower that boat and git into her, short order. Luke Watts can pilot you in. Start along, now. Every man may take his own kit."
"Come on, Captain Watts," said the hearty British sailor. "Your shave's been a narrer one. I thought you was bound for the yardarm, this time."
"I owe you something," replied Watts. "I'll stand by ye, any day."
The queer piece of very good unprofessional acting was played to its ending. The longboat was lowered, the men got into her, with provisions for two days, and away she went, her own sail careening her as if it were in haste to get from under the brazen muzzles of theNoank'sFrench guns.
"It's awful to be a traitor," remarked Sam Prentice, gravely. "Who'd ha' thought it of a Marblehead man!"
"Sam!" said Lyme Avery, and the rest of his remark consisted of his right eye tightly shut and his left eye very wide open.
"Ugh! Good!" chuckled Up-na-tan, and Guert Ten Eyck laughed aloud.
Not for one moment had the subtle, keen-eyed red man been deceived, and Guert had caught the truth of it all from him.
"Not a word, Guert," said Captain Avery. "He may be able to do it again."
"Didn't fool ole brack man," said Coco. "S'pose he 'tone bline? Wen King George 'ply ship tack right for New London, then it's 'cause he was 'tendin' to go right there."
"No talk," said Up-na-tan. "Ole chief like Watt. He bring plenty powder forNoankgun. Fort gun, too. Now schooner go to sea. Good!"
The impressed men were freed of their manacles as soon as the longboat was well away. They could be cheerful enough now, for the prudent management of Lyme Avery had made their necks safe, unless they should be taken by the British from an American armed ship.
Up the broad, beautiful harbor theNoankand her prize sailed merrily, while guns from the fort batteries saluted her and crowds of patriotic New Londoners swarmed upon the piers and wharves to do full honor to so really important a success. At one pier head were gathered all the members ashore of the Avery household.
"There he comes!" exclaimed Mrs. Avery; "Lyme's in that boat; Guert and Vine are with him. Neither of them were hurt."
"I hope there wasn't much fighting," said Guert's mother. "I do so hate to have men killed."
"Anneke Ten Eyck," said Rachel Tarns, "thy wicked son hath once more aided the rebels in stealing a ship from thy good king. Thee has not brought him up well. He needeth instruction or he will become as bad as is the man George Washington himself, God bless him!"
More than one day's work was required to ascertain the full value of theWindsoras a bearer of supplies to the forts and ships of the United States, instead of to those of Great Britain.
"All the things theNoankwas short of," Captain Avery said, "are goin' into her now. There isn't any secret to be kept concernin' her sailin' orders, either. She's bound for the West Indies to see what she can do."
Perhaps it was at his own table that his plans and the reasons for them were most thoroughly discussed, but all his crew and their many advisers were satisfied, and a number of prime seamen who were not to go on this trip roundly declared their great envy of those who could.
"Tobacco," they said, "sugar, if it's a home-bound trader. If it's one from England, then Lyme'll get loads o' 'sorted stuff, such as they ship for the West Injy trade."
There were other vessels preparing and some were already at sea. The year, therefore, promised to be a busy one for New London. So it did in a number of other American ports, and it behooved Great Britain to increase, if she could, the number and efficiency of her cruisers.
One continual black shadow rested over the port and town, and that was the great probability of a British attack, at no distant day.
"They've their hands pretty full, just now," people said. "The winter isn't their best time, either, but some day or other we shall see a fleet out yonder, and redcoats and Hessians and Tories boating ashore."
It was an entirely reasonable prediction, but its fulfilment was to be almost unaccountably postponed. When its hour arrived, at last, nearly two years later, New London was in ashes and Fort Griswold was a slaughter-pen.
"Mother," said Guert, on his return to the house from one of his visits to theNoank. "I wish you could go with us to the West Indies, the Antilles. Think of it! Summer all the while!"
"But no oranges, or lemons, or pineapples just now," she said laughingly. "I mean to go, some day. Perhaps you will take me in your own ship."
"Any ship of mine will be your ship," he said. "I wish I had some money to leave with you, now. It's awful to think of your being poor."
"Our New York farm will be of no use to us," she said, "until the king's troops leave the island. I shall be very comfortable here, though, except that I shall all the while be waiting for you to come home again."
Very brave was she, under her somewhat difficult circumstances. All the New London people were kind, especially the Averys, but she expected to be poor in purse for some time to come. As to that, however, she had a surprise in store. That very evening, after dark, Up-na-tan lingered in the kitchen.
"Chief see ole woman," he said. "See nobody but Guert mother."
No sooner were they alone than he pulled from under his captured military cloak a small purse, and handed it to her.
"No Kidd money," he said. "Lobster money. Pay ole woman for King George take farm."
She hesitated a moment, and then she exclaimed:—
"God sent it, I do believe! I'll take it. You won't need it at sea."
"Up-na-tan no want money," he replied contemptuously. "Ole chief go fight. Come back. Go to ole woman house. Own house. Money belong to ole woman."
"Thank you!" she said.
"No," grumbled the Indian; "no thank at all. Up-na-tan good!"
So the conference ended, for he stalked out of the house, and she examined the purse.
"Nearly twenty pounds, of all sorts," she said. "Now I needn't borrow of Rachel for ever so long. I want to let Guert know. He will feel better."
The Indian had but obeyed the simple rules of his training. Any kind of game, however captured, was for the squaw of his wigwam to administer. Her business would be to provide for the hunter as best she could. In former days he had always been free of the Ten Eyck house and farm. It was his. The game he had recently taken was in the form of gold and silver, but there could be no question as to what he was bound to do with it.
Neither he or his Ashantee comrade were inclined to spend much time on shore. Hardly anything could induce them to come away from the keen pleasure they were having in the handling and stowage of much powder and shot. The varied weapons which they examined and put in order were as so many jewels, to be fondly admired and even patted.
If Mrs. Ten Eyck had anything else to depress her spirits she tried not to let Guert know it. All her table talk, when he was there, was brimming with warlike patriotism. Nevertheless, he was her only son and she was a widow. She could not but wish, at times, that he were a soldier instead of a sailor, to belong to the quiet garrison of Fort Griswold, for instance, and to come over to the Avery house now and then.
He was sent for, somewhat peremptorily, one day, not by her but by Rachel Tarns, and when he arrived she herself opened the door for him.
"I am glad thee came so early," she said to him. "I have somewhat to say to thee. Come in, hither."
Very dignified was she, at any time, and he was accustomed to obey her without asking needless questions. He followed her, therefore, as she led on into the parlor, opposite the dining room, the main thought in his mind being:—
"I wish she'd hurry up with it. I want to get back to theNoank, as soon as I've seen mother."
"What is it?" he began, after the door of the parlor closed behind them, but she cut him short.
"I will not quite tell thee," she said. "Some things thee does not need to know. Thy old friend, Maud Wolcott, will be here presently. One cometh with her to whom I forbid thee to speak. After they arrive, thou art to do as I shall then direct thee."
"All right," said Guert. "I don't care who it is. I'll be glad to see Maud, though. She's about the best girl I know. Pretty, too."
Hardly were the words out of his mouth before there came a jingle of sleighbells in the road, and it ceased before the house.
"Remain thee here," said Rachel, as she arose and hurried out.
Guert obeyed, but he went to a window and he saw a trim-looking, two-seated sleigh. A man he did not know was hitching the horse to the post near the gate. The sleigh had brought a full load of passengers, all women.
"That's Maud Wolcott," exclaimed Guert. "The girl that's with her is taller than she is, and she's all muffled up. I can't see her face. How Maud did jump out o' that cutter! The two others are old women. Rachel knows 'em."
The first girl out of the sleigh was in the house quickly. She came like a flash into the parlor and, as her hood flew back, a mass of brown curls went tumbling down over her shoulders.
"Guert!" she said, breathlessly. "I'm so glad you're here! We were told you were going."
"We're going!" said Guert. "We're bound for the West Indies. We've taken one British ship, already. I'm a privateer, Maud! Oh! but ain't I glad to see you again. It's like old times!"
"You're growing," she said. "I wish I could go to sea, or fight the British. We haven't any chance to talk, now."
He might be very glad, but, after all, he seemed a little afraid, and a kind of bashfulness grew upon him as he shook hands with her. She must have been a year younger than he was,—but then, she was so very pretty, and he was only a boy.
Half a dozen questions and answers went back and forth between them, as between old acquaintances, near neighbors. Then the parlor door opened to let in Rachel Tarns and the "all muffled up" girl who had been in the sleigh with Maud. She did not speak to anybody, but went and sat down, silently, at the other window of the parlor.
"Guert," said Rachel, "sit thee down here, by me and Maud. Thee will talk only of what I bid thee, and thee will ask no foolish questions."
"All right," said Guert. "What is it you want me to say? Maud hasn't told me, yet, half o' what I want to know."
"If thee were older," she said, "thee would have more good sense. I have a reason that I will not tell thee. I wish thee to give me a full account of all thy dealings with that brave man, Nathan Hale. Thee saw him die, and there is no other that knoweth many things that are well known to thee."
"I hate to tell everything," he said.
"Thee must!" exclaimed Rachel. "Thee will not leave out a word that he spake or a deed that he did."
Something flashed brightly into the quick mind of Guert just then. He could not exactly shape it, but it came when he caught the sound of a low sob from under the veil of the girl at the other window. "I'll begin where I first saw him," he said.
He did not at all know after that how his boyish enthusiasm helped him to draw his word pictures of Captain Hale's daring scout work, of boat and land adventures by night and day, in company with him and Up-na-tan and Coco. He told it more rapidly and vividly as a kind of excitement spurred him. He did not know that beyond the half-open door of the next room his mother and several other persons were listening. Two of them had come in the cutter with Maud, and yet another sleigh had brought visitors to the Avery house. There were to be very loving and tenacious memories to treasure all that he was telling.
Guert came at last, sorrowfully, more slowly, to the tragic end of all in the old orchard near the East River. He told of the troops, and the crowd, and the tree, and he repeated the last words of the hero who perished there.
"That I can give but one life for Liberty!" he said, and there his own voice choked him, while a whisper from beyond the door said softly: "Glory! Glory! Glory!"
Throughout Guert's narrative, there had been something almost painful in the forward-leaning eagerness of the veiled girl at the window. She was standing now, and a sigh that was more a sob broke from her as she held out to him a hand with something that she was grasping tightly. Rachel stepped forward and took it, opening it as she did so. Only a small, leather case it was, containing a miniature.
"My boy," said Rachel, "is that like thy friend? Look well at it. Tell me."
"It's a real good picture," said Guert, wiping his eyes as he looked more closely. "It's like him, but there isn't the light and the smile that was on his face when he stood with the rope around his neck under that old apple tree."
"That is enough," said Rachel, turning away with the miniature. "I think not many eyes will ever see this thing again."
"Not any," came faintly from under the veil. "I mean to have it buried with me. Nobody else has any right to it. I must go now."
The girl at the window had risen as she spoke. She came forward and took Guert's hand for a moment. Then, in a voice that was tremulous with feeling, she said:—
"Let me thank you for all you have said. Thank you for your friendship for him. God bless you!"
In spite of its sadness, her voice had in it a half-triumphant tone. Rachel gave her back the miniature, and she turned to go. No one spoke to her. Guert could not have said a word if he had tried, but Maud sprang to her side.
"Good-by, Guert," she said. "I'll see you again, some day. I'm going with her, now."
"Good-by, Maud," said Guert. "I did so want a talk with you, but I s'pose I can't this time. We are to sail right away. TheNoank'sall ready."
Both of the sleighs at the gate were quickly crowded. They were driven away, and hardly had the jingling of their bells died out up the road, before Rachel Tarns came and put an arm around Guert. She, too, was wiping her eyes.
"Thee was a brave, good boy," she said, "and I love thee very much. Thee is too young, now, and thy picture hath never been painted. Some day thee may need one to give away, as Nathan did. If it shall please God to let thee die for thy country, somebody may will to keep it in memory of thee."
"Mother would," said Guert. "I'll get one, as soon as I can. But Nathan Hale'll be remembered well enough without any picture. All the men in America 'll remember him. He was a hero!"
The voice of Vine Avery was at the front door, shouting loudly for Guert, and out he darted, not even stopping to inquire who of all the friends or family of his hero had been listening in the dining room.
"What is it?" he eagerly asked, as he joined Vine at the doorstep.
"Powder and shot all stowed," said Vine. "Everything's ready now. As soon as the rest of theWindsor'scargo's out, they're going to tow her up the river, out o' harm's way. Father says we're to be all on board, now. Come on!"
"Oh, Guert!" said his mother, for she had followed him, and her arms were around his neck. "I can't say a word to keep you back! Be as brave as Nathan Hale was! God keep you from all harm! Do your duty! Good-by!"
It was an awful struggle for poor Guert, but he would not let himself cry before Vine Avery and the sailors who were with him. All he could do, therefore, was to hug his mother and kiss her. His last good-by went into her ear and down into her heart in a low, hoarse whisper.
Away marched the last squad of the crew of theNoank, and Mrs. Avery stood at the gate and watched them until they were hidden from her eyes beyond the turn of the road.
"What is it, Sam?"
"I guess, Lyme, we'd better hold on a bit. The fort lookout sends word that a British cruiser's in sight, off the harbor."
Sam Prentice was in a rowboat, just reaching the side of theNoank, and his commander was leaning over the rail.
"I'd like to send a shot at her," he said. "None o' those ten-gun brigs, if it's one o' them, carry long guns or heavy ones."
"Can't say," replied Sam. "Maybe it's a bigger feller. He won't dare to run in under the battery guns, anyhow. He can't look into the harbor."
"I wish he would," laughed the captain. "If he's goin' to try a game of tackin' off and on, and watchin', though, we must make out to run past him in the night."
"We mustn't be stuck any longer here," said Sam. "Are all the crew aboard?"
"All but you," was the reply. "Send your boat ashore. We'll find out what she is. I won't let any single cruiser keep me cooped up in port, now my powder and shot's found for me. We'll up anchor, Sam."
The first mate of theNoank, for such he was to be, came over the rail, and his boat was pulled shoreward.
"Isn't she fine!" he said, as he glanced admiringly around him. "We're in good fightin' order, Lyme."
"Sam," said the captain, "just study those timbers, will ye. Only heavy shot'd do any great harm to our bulwarks. I had her built the very strongest kind. Now! Some o' the new British craft are said to be light timbered, even for rough weather. Their own sailors hate 'em, and we can take their judgment of 'em."
"It's likely to be good," said Sam. "What a British able seaman doesn't know 'bout his own ship, isn't worth knowin'."
Further talk indicated that they both held high opinions of the mariners of England. Against them, as individuals, the war had not aroused any ill feeling. There was, indeed, among intelligent Americans, a very general perception that King George's war against his transatlantic subjects was anything but popular with the great mass of the overtaxed English people. It was a pity, a great pity, that stupid, bad management and recklessly tyrannical statesmanship, in a sort of combination with needless military severities, had done so much to foster hatred and provoke revenge. It was true, too, although all Americans did not know or did not appreciate it, that their side of the controversy had been ably set forth in the Parliament of Great Britain by prominent and patriotic Englishmen, such as Chatham and Colonel Barre.
The old whalerNoank, of New London, however, had now become an American war vessel. Her crew and her commander were compelled, henceforth, to regard as enemies the captains and the crews of all vessels, armed or unarmed, carrying the red-cross flag instead of the stars and stripes.
"I tell you what, Sam," remarked Captain Avery, at last, "I wish we had news from New York and from Washington's army. The latest we heard of him and the boys made things look awfully dark."
"Don't let yourself git too down in the mouth!" replied Sam. "I guess the sun'll shine ag'in, Sunday. It's a long lane that has no turnin'. Washington's an old Indian fighter. He's likely to turn on 'em, sudden and unexpected, like a redskin on a trail that's been followed too closely."
"It won't do to go after a Mohawk too far into the woods, sometimes," growled Avery. "Not onless you're willin' to risk a shot from a bush. Now, do you know, I wish I knew, too, what's been the dealin' of the British admirals with Luke Watts, for losin' theWindsor. We owe that man a good deal,—we do!"
"They won't hurt him," said Sam. "It wasn't any fault o' his'n."
In some such manner, all over the country, men and women were comforting themselves, under the shadow of death which seemed to have settled down over the cause of American independence. They knew that the Continental army was shattered. It was destitute, freezing, starving, and it was said to be dwindling away.
Somewhere, however, among the ragged tents and miserable huts of its winter quarters, was a man who had shown himself so superior to other men that in him there was still a hope. From him something unexpected and startling might come at any hour.
As for Luke Watts, formerly the skipper of the British supply shipWindsor, now a prize in New London harbor, Captain Avery and his mate spoke again of him and of the difficulties into which he might have fallen. Possibly it would have done them good to have been near enough to see and hear him at that very hour of the day.
A good longboat, with a strong crew anxious to make time and get into a warmer place, had had only a short run of it from New London to New York. Here was Luke, therefore, in the cabin of a British seventy-four, standing before a gloomy-faced party of naval officers. With him were his mate, Brackett, and several of the sailors of theWindsor. It was evident that her loss had been inquired into, and that all the testimonies had been given. If this was to be considered as a kind of naval court martial, it was as ready as it ever would be to declare its verdict.
"Gentlemen," said the burly post-captain who appeared to be the ranking officer, "it's a bad affair! We needed that ammunition. Even the land forces are running so short that movements are hindered. If, however, we are to find fault with any man, we must censure the captain of theCleopatra. This man Watts is proved to have gone into the Sound against his will and protest. I am glad that the rebels did not hang him. His recorded judgment of the danger to be encountered was entirely correct. Watts, I shall want you to pilot home one of our empty troop-ships."
"I know her, sir," replied Luke, promptly. "I beg to say no, sir. Not unless she has twice the ballast that's in her now. I'd like permission to say a word more, sir."
"Speak out! What is it?"
"A ten-gun brig in the Sound can't catch that New London pirate—"
"TheBoxeris cruising around that station," interrupted the captain. "She's a clipper to go."
"No use," said Luke, shaking his head. "The old whaler'll get away."
"What would you do, then?" roughly demanded another officer.
"A strong corvette, or two of 'em, off Point Judith and Montauk, to catch her as she runs out," said Luke. "She'll fight any small vessel. She carries a splendid pivot-gun, and she has six long sixes. She will be handled by prime seamen."
"Gentlemen," remarked the captain, "I agree with him. We have found the advice of this man Watts to be correct in every case. I believe he is right, now. We must do as he says or that pirate, perhaps others with her, will escape us. I will put him in charge of theTermagant. I'll feel safer about her, if she is sailed home by a man with a rebel rope around his neck."
There was a general expression of assent, and then Watts spoke again.
"I want Brackett, if I can have him," he said. "I never had a better mate. There's fight in him, too."
"You may have him," he was told, and several of the officers present expressed their great regret that so many impressed American seamen had been ironed by Captain Avery and compelled to escape from a return to man-of-war duty. They ought never to have been detailed, it was asserted.
"We can't hang 'em for desertion," they said, half jocularly. "All we could do, if we caught them, would be to set them at work again."
Nevertheless, four of these escaped men were now voluntarily among the crew of theNoank. The remaining five had preferred to make the best of their ways to their several homes. Not one of them all had chosen to seek the friendly shelter of the British navy, so near and so ready to receive them.
Luke Watts and his friends were dismissed and went on deck. Shortly afterward, their own longboat carried them to theTermaganttroop-ship, and the first words uttered by the Marblehead skipper after reaching her, were duly reported to his superiors.
"Men!" he had exclaimed, as he glanced around him. "This thing isn't fit to go to sea. She's been handled by lubbers. We've work before us, if we don't want to go to the bottom or be overhauled by theYankees. Jest look at her spars and riggin'!"
All things were working together, therefore, to strengthen the confidence reposed in him, in spite of the curious fact that he had skilfully delivered theWindsorand her cargo in New London instead of in New York.
"We had a narrer escape not many miles beyond Hell Gate," he had reported. "One o' those Long Island buccaneer whaleboats chased us more 'n an hour. They gave it up then, and we got through. 'Twas a close shave. Half on 'em are Montauk and Shinnecock redskins. Reg'lar scalpers."
He had told the truth, as he had appeared to do at every point of the account which he had given of himself, and now the very men who had captured him and let him go, neglecting to hang him, were about to learn why that Long Island whaleboat had not followed him any farther. There had been plenty of time for such a boat to get away, a long distance.
The lookout on the rampart of Fort Griswold, the same keen-eyed watcher who had sent warning to theNoankof the danger in the offing, was busy with his telescope.
"The cruiser's a brig!" he sang out. "I can make her out, now. She's one o' the new patterns. She's chasin' a whaleboat. I wish she'd roller it onto one o' them there ledges. She's firin'. It's long range, but it looks kind o' bad for the Long Islanders. There ain't any of our boats out, to-day. It's from t'other shore."
He was watching, now, with intense excitement. There is hardly anything else so interesting as a chase at sea with cannonading in it. All this time, however, Captain Lyme Avery had been growing feverish. He knew nothing of Luke Watts, nothing at all of the Long Island whaleboat and her pursuer, but he shouted to the men at the capstan:—
"Heave away, boys! I'm goin' to have a look at that there Britisher. We won't run any fool risks but we'll find out what she is, anyhow."
Hearty cheers answered him and a loud war-whoop from Up-na-tan, for every man on board had long since become sick of harbor inactivity. They were also all the more ready for a brush with the enemy after having brought in so fine a prize on their first venture, and they now had plenty of powder and shot to fire away.
Only the mainsail swung out after the anchor was raised, but a fair wind was blowing and theNoankwent swiftly seaward with the tide in her favor.
"Hark!" said Sam Prentice; "guns again! Something's up, Up-na-tan! Oh, you and Coco are at your pivot-gun! Free her! Have her all ready. She's the only piece on board that's likely to be of any use."
"Let 'em alone!" called out Captain Avery. "They know what they're about. They're old gunners. I don't care so much, jest now, 'bout how they got their trainin'. See 'em!"
They were not by any means a handsome pair at any time, and they were several shades uglier than usual. The Ashantee was grinning frightfully, and the teeth he showed must have been filed to obtain so sharklike a pointing. The red man was not grinning, but all the wrinkles in his face seemed to grow deeper and his complexion darker. He was charging his guns with solemnly scrupulous care.
"No miss!" he said. "Up-na-tan find out what big gun good for."
His first charge was going in, therefore, for a purpose of practical inquiry into the character of the long eighteen. The foundries of that day could not manufacture large weapons with mathematical precision. Hardly any two could be said to be exactly alike, except in appearance. It followed that each gun had good or bad features of its own. From ship to ship, throughout the royal navy, the gunners published the qualities of their brazen or iron favorites, and there were cannon of celebrity which old salts would go far to see.
The sound of the British firing came up somewhat dulled against the wind. It was not until they were out of the harbor that the sailors of theNoankdiscovered how really near were both friends and foes. The latter were still outside of the range of any of the fort guns. Hardly more than a mile and a half nearer was the whaleboat from Long Island. It could be seen that it was full of men, and they were showing splendid pluck, for they were rowing steadily, while every now and then a shot from the brig dropped dangerously near them. One iron bullet, hitting fairly, might knock their frail though swift craft all to pieces. Up went sail after sail upon theNoank, as she speeded along, and an officer on the British cruiser's deck had good reason for the astonishment with which he called out:—
"There she comes! You don't mean to say she's coming out to fight us?"
"It looks like it," responded another officer near him. "We can make match-wood of her if we can get close enough. I wish I knew what her armament is. These Yankees have more impudence!"
He did not have to wait many minutes before he learned something. TheNoankwhirled away upon the starboard tack around the point, and, just as she steadied herself upon her new course, out roared her pivot-gun.
Up-na-tan stood erect as soon as he touched off his piece, and he anxiously watched for the results.
"Ugh! whoop!" he shouted triumphantly. "Gun good! Shoot straight! Hit 'em!"
"Right!" said Captain Avery, who had been watching through a glass. "If the old pirate didn't land that shot on her! It's pretty long range, too."
"Load quick, now!" said the Indian. "Ole chief hit her again!"
His assistants were already feverishly busy with their loading, while he stood and proudly patted his cannon, very much as if it deserved praise and could appreciate his approval.
Loud were the exclamations of surprise and wrath on board theBoxer. No one had been killed or wounded, but the brig's longboat had been stove to bits, and all the pigs and chickens which had been cooped in it for the time being, and there were many of them, were running frantically about the main deck. That is, all but one large, fat pig, for he had suddenly been made pork of, and he would run and squeal no more.
The telescopes at the fort had also been taking observations, and loud cheers from the gathered garrison honored the crack shot of Up-na-tan. The crew of theNoankcheered lustily, and so did the rowers of the whaleboat. One of the fort batteries tried its guns a moment later, but all its shots fell short. Nevertheless, it was only a little short, and it warned the captain of theBoxer. He knew, now, about how much nearer it would be wise for him to run. Up-na-tan's next shot was well enough aimed, but it did no mischief. It went over the brig, with an unpleasant suggestion of what damage that sort of thing might do to spars and rigging.
"Luff! luff!" sang out the captain. "'Tisn't worth while to chase that boat any farther in. Let's see if we can't draw out the schooner. I'd like to get her away from those land batteries. They're too heavy metal for us."
"She has the wind of us," remarked his sailing master, doubtfully. "She can do as she pleases 'bout coming any too near."
"She's a clipper, anyhow," growled the captain. "Nothing can beat these New Englanders in handling canvas. The king needs every man of 'em."
His own sailors were just then more than a little busied with pig and poultry gathering, and one badly scared bird rashly flew overboard.
Captain Avery was to disappoint Up-na-tan and Coco. They were to have no more long-range practice with the eighteen-pounder.
One more shot that they sent was an unsatisfactory miss, and then the distance began to increase instead of diminishing, as the schooner went about.
"Our fellows are safe now," said Sam Prentice. "Here they come. Look at 'em! More Indians than white men."
None the less were they excellent oarsmen and daring freebooters, and before the end of the war the "whaleboat fleet," as it came to be called, was to earn a not altogether pleasant reputation.
Not many more minutes passed before the boat was near enough for a hail. In it, forward, stood up a tall white man, balancing himself and swinging his hat while he enthusiastically sent to theNoank:—
"Schooner ahoy! Hurrah! News from the Continental army! Gineral Washington smashed the redcoats! Beat 'em on Christmas day at Trenton! Then he follered 'em up and knocked Cornwallis all to flinders at Princeton! We're a-beginnin' to flail 'em! Hurrah!"
Wild was the cheering which answered him from the schooner. Some of the men began to dance, and Sam Prentice yelled:—
"Shake hands, Lyme Avery! I jest knew it'd come! I said so! We're goin' to flail 'em! Our turn's got here!"
Up-na-tan expressed his feelings in whoop after whoop, and Coco's yell was terrific.
"Won't the shore people jump?" said Guert Ten Eyck. "Oh! How I want to get in and tell mother!"
The news-bringer had described the Trenton victory fairly, but he had somewhat exaggerated the results of the severe fight at Princeton. Lord Cornwallis had not reported it in precisely that manner. The boat was now running along with theNoank, however, and the story of Washington's splendid work for liberty was fired into the schooner at short range, wadding and all. A pretty interesting conclusion for it was the account of the manner in which the news had been obtained in New York and carried along the Long Island shore, all the way to New London.
"We had to hug the land close," said the narrator, "but here we are."
"Home! Home!" shouted Captain Avery. "The folks must have this to cheer 'em up. It's the first bit of good news we've had in many a long day. Hurrah for George Washington! God bless him!"
It was an instantly arriving vexation, then, that the brisk breeze and the tide, so favorable for coming out, were not so much so for running in.
TheBoxer'scaptain had also his vexations, for he shortly remarked:—
"There she goes! The boat's with her. We're not to have a chance at her to-day. If I can get at her, I'll sink her! She'll come out again."
That was precisely the purpose in the mind of Lyme Avery, and he did not intend any long delay, either.
"Blaze away! Gun at a time!" shouted Captain Avery, as theNoanktacked across the harbor mouth. "We can afford a few blank cartridges for such news as this is."
"The whaleboat's goin' to beat us gettin' in," replied Sam Prentice. "The folks'll know it all before we git there."
"Don't care if they do," said the captain. "We'll only be in port ag'in a few hours, anyhow. Night's our time. We know, now, jest what the cruiser is, and there doesn't seem to be another 'round."
TheNoank'ssixes were, therefore, shouting to the forts and the town that good news of some kind was coming. The men at the batteries heard and wondered, and grew impatient. They thought they knew all there was to be known of the mere exchange of shots with theBoxer. Their friends had not been harmed; neither had the brig; the whaleboat had escaped; and that was all that they could understand. Now, however, they saw theNoanksending up every American flag she had on board.
What could it mean? Lyme Avery was not a man to have suddenly lost his balance of mind.
"Something's up," they said. "No matter what it is, we'll answer him."
So a roaring salute was fired for something or other that was as yet unknown to the gunners, and more flags went up on the forts; while the joyous cannonading called out of their houses nearly all the population of New London, every soul as full of eager curiosity as were the soldiers of the garrisons.
Out they came, and they were not at all an unprosperous looking lot of men and women and children. Probably the most important thing which the war statesmen of Great Britain overlooked in making their calculations for subduing the colonies was that the resources of America were in no danger of becoming exhausted. On the contrary, nearly all the states were growing richer instead of poorer. Strangely enough, the war itself was a powerful agent for the development of America. Continental paper money was as yet answering very well for local payments and exchanges, and its subsequent depreciation was of less importance than a great many people imagined. Nothing was really lost when a paper dollar dwindled to fifty cents and then went down to ten—or nothing. Nearly all the old farms were as good as ever, and new ones were opening daily. There were more acres under cultivation—a great many more—all over the country, out of the range of British army foraging parties. The farms which the foragers could not reach included all of the New England states, all of Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, nearly all of South Carolina and Georgia, and all of New York above the Hudson River highlands. A large part of even harassed New Jersey was doing very well.
Something more than merely the farming interests were to be taken into consideration, moreover. Prior to the rebellion, the policy of the mother country had choked to death all manufacturing undertakings in America, in order that the colonies might serve only as markets for English-made goods. Now, not only was the prohibition removed, but the rebels were absolutely compelled to manufacture for themselves. They were altogether willing to set about it. They had an abundance of raw materials, and could increase their productions of all sorts. They had great mechanical skill, marvellous inventive genius, and unlimited water-power. Everywhere began to spring up woollen and cotton factories, potteries, iron works, wagon shops, tanneries, and other new industries unknown before.
Cattle, horses, sheep, swine, mules, multiplied without any hinderance whatever from the war. For all food products there were more mouths to fill, and for all things salable there was more power to pay. It followed that there soon were many more tradesmen, merchants, and middlemen, doing vastly more business, whether for cash or barter.
There were more men, too, and more women. The sad losses of men in battles, camps, prisons, were only a small number compared with the thousands of stalwart youths who were growing up. These, too, were growing up as Americans, knowing no allegiance to England, full of eager patriotism, and ready, whenever their turns might come, to take their places in the army or in the navy.
There were desolated regions, but the area of these was limited. As a whole, the new republic was increasing tremendously in both wealth and population. Its resources for all war purposes were growing from day to day through all the dark years of the Revolution.
The New Londoners had no idea of waiting patiently under such circumstances as these, with so much salute firing tantalizing them. Boats of all sorts put out, and these were shortly met by the Long Island news-carriers. Their entry had not depended at all upon the wind, and not much upon even the tide, so well they were pulling.
Guert and hisNoankfriends, therefore, were robbed of the pleasure of being the first to tell the great tidings from the bank of the Delaware. It swiftly reached the shore, to be greeted with half-mad enthusiasm. Before theNoanklowered her last sail at her wharf, there were men on horseback and men in sleighs, and women, too, even more excitedly, all speeding out to villages and towns and farm-houses to set the hearts of patriots on fire with joy and hope.
It was quite likely that every courier would picture the success of General Washington at least as large as the reality. Lord Cornwallis himself, rallying his somewhat scattered detachments to strike back at his unexpected assailant, was aware of stinging losses, but not that he had been seriously defeated. He had suffered a sharp check, and he had afterward failed to surround and capture Mr. Washington and his brave ragamuffins. That appeared to be about all. It hardly occurred to the self-confident British generals that so small an affair as that of Trenton, or a drawn battle like that of Princeton, could have any great or permanent consequences. Little did they imagine how great a change was made in the minds, in the courage and hope of a host of previously dispirited Americans.
There had been many, for instance, who had been losing confidence in Washington's ability as a general. He had been too often defeated, and they could not rightly understand or estimate the causes for his reverses, or how well he had done in spite of terrible disadvantages. Now, as his star again blazed forth, these very faultfinders were ready to believe him one of the greatest generals of the age.
The political consequences were invaluable. Not only the Congress at Philadelphia, but the state legislatures, most of them, were more ready to push along with measures of a military nature. The entire aspect of affairs underwent a visible change, not only in America, but, very soon, in Europe.
Especially dense was the crowd that gathered at the wharf toward which theNoankwas to be steered. All the other crowds probably wished that they had known just where to go. Most of them at once set out on a run in the corrected direction. The cheering done had already made a great many of the patriots somewhat hoarse, and they were all the readier to hear as well as talk.
"Oh! Guert!" exclaimed his mother, as she hugged him, the moment he came over upon the wharf. "I'm glad of the victories, but I'm gladder still to see you safe back again!"
"Up-na-tan hit the brig, mother," he said. "Captain Avery says we can run out right past her. Hurrah for General Washington!"
"Thee bad boy!" said Rachel Tarns, behind Mrs. Ten Eyck. "Thee and thy schooner should have been with him at Trenton. He was in need of thy fine French guns and thy sailors."
"That's so, I guess!" said Guert. "We'd ha' sailed right in, if we'd been there. I'd like to ha' seen the battle. Mother, Up-na-tan's going to teach me how to handle cannon. He says he's going to make a good gunner of me."
"I want you to be a captain," she said.
"Guert," said Rachel, "I wish thee might become as good an artilleryman as thy old friend Alexander Hamilton. It is my pride and joy, this day, that I paid for the first powder for his cannon. I also praise the Lord that Alexander knoweth so well what to do with them and with the powder."
"I'll learn what to do with mine," said Guert. "'Tisn't easy, though. 'Tisn't like handling a rifle or a shotgun. It's a good deal in the loading and in guessing distances."
"Up-na-tan," was Rachel's next half-humorous inquiry, "thee wicked old Indian! Has thee been shooting at thy good king with thy big gun?"
"Ole woman no talk!" grumbled the Manhattan. "Up-na-tan all mad! Want long thirty-two. Pivot-gun too small. Hit lobster brig. No sink her."
"Ole chief not take any 'calp," chuckled Coco, maliciously, "so he feel bad. Want 'calp somebody, soon's he can. Now old Coco had fight, s'pose he 'bout ready for he supper."
That feeling seemed to have spread very widely, as if good news were calculated to produce good appetites. It was a hungry time as well as a triumph, and in many houses there were home-made feasts, that evening. There was one, for instance, at the Avery house, and Guert was there, of course. He was glad of one more visit to his mother, but a peculiarly warlike thrill went over him before he reached the gate. It was when Lyme Avery said to his mate, as they separated:—
"Sam Prentice, tell your wife to send you out good and early. We're goin' to have another brush with that there British brig, to-morrow, if the wind's at all right for it."
"I don't know," replied Sam. "Our best hold is to slip past her, if we can, and git out into the open sea. It wouldn't do to run back into the Sound, but I'd like to pick up another prize right here. We might."
"A little too risky," said the captain, "with her on the watch. That's the talk, though. We're goin' to bring more'n one prize into New London, 'fore we git through."
Guert was well aware that theNoankhad taken out what were called "letters of marque and reprisal," and was therefore a regularly authorized and commissioned commerce-destroyer. She was one of many. In several of the colonial ports, north and south, precisely such sea-wolves had long since made their preparations, and some were already at sea. They were making serious havoc and were soon to make more in the widely distributed, ocean-going commerce of Great Britain. It was a cruel, destructive, uncivilized kind of warfare, but it was customary among all the nations of the earth. In like manner, at this very date, British privateers were out after American prizes. These latter, moreover, had the regular cruisers of England as auxiliaries. Less agreeably, sometimes, the warships came in as business rivals or to claim a division of spoils. The Yankee privateers themselves constituted nearly the entire navy of the United States.
Sunrise does not come early in the month of January. It seems to come earlier and there is more of it, if the weather is clear. On the next morning after the arrival of the Trenton news, however, a thick white mist came drifting up New London harbor from the sea. There was only a light wind blowing from the westward, and it promised to be one of the hazy days of winter, such as come before a thaw.
"This 'ere is jest the thing for us," remarked Captain Avery, when he came out to see about the weather. "It's the right kind o' breeze for a schooner, and it's jest the wrong thing for a square rig. We can spread more canvas for our draft and tonnage than that king's brig can, anyhow."
There was no one to dispute him, and he and Vine and Guert were shortly on their way to the wharf. The Yankee shipbuilders, with abundance of the best timber at hand and any number of bays and inlets to work in, had constructed admirable shipyards upon plans of their own. Point after point they had gone away from antiquated models, and they had already made many important improvements in the building and rigging of all kinds of craft. Before many years, the whole sea-going world was to be forced to recognize their superiority.
All of theNoank'screw were on board when her captain reached her, and he at once gave orders to cast off from the wharf. Only a very few of her friends came down to see her go. Farewells had been already said, for the greater part, and even the sailors' wives had been aware that there would be no lingering. The Long Island whaleboat was nowhere to be seen. It might be that her hardy oarsmen, their errand accomplished, had set out to recross to their own shore under the cover of darkness.
"Some o' those island chaps," remarked Sam Prentice, "ain't but a little better'n so many buccaneers. They're up to 'most any kind o' pillagin'. Do ye know, Lyme, the first o' the West Injy pirates, long ago, made their beginnin' with very much that kind o' open boat? It was a good while before they were able to supply themselves with the right kind o' sailin' vessels."
"They did it, though," said Lyme.
"Murderous lot they were, too," said Vine. "They never left anybody alive to tell tales of 'em."
"Ugh! Ugh!" came from Up-na-tan, in a sort of snarl. "All Kidd men dead now. No come again."
The Manhattan had seated himself upon a coil of rope and was busy with a hone and the edge of a cutlass, as if he hoped to use it soon.
"No, they're not," replied Prentice, with energy. "There's enough of 'em yet. Some say they're gettin' worse'n ever within a year or so. This 'ere schooner's got to keep a sharp lookout for 'em, soon's we're among the islands."
"That's so, Sam," said Captain Avery. "I'll tell ye one thing more, too. I'd ruther come to close quarters with a cruiser like that there British brig than with one o' those half-Spanish West Injy picaroons. Some right well-armed British and French fightin' craft have found 'em dreadfully hard to handle."
"So would we," said Sam, "and I wouldn't at all mind sendin' one of 'em to the bottom. It'd be a matter o' life and death, ye know, for they don't show any kind o' mercy. Not to man, woman, or child."
Guert listened intently, for he had already heard, year after year, a great many terrible yarns concerning the rovers of the Antilles. Part of his daily business, too, was to listen well to whatever he might hear, and he was learning a great deal in various ways. Brought up on Manhattan Island, as he had been, he was familiar, of course, with the external appearance of all kinds of shipping, whether of war or peace. He had also seen a great deal of boat service. Now, however, he had discovered that all this had not made a sailor of him. He was only a mere beginner, although it seemed to him that he had been getting along rapidly ever since he first saw theNoank. This was his first actual cruising, but he had spent a great deal of time on board while she was waiting in port. He believed that he knew every nook and corner of her. He could go aloft like a squirrel or a monkey, but for all that he felt dreadfully raw and green among such a crew of seasoned old mariners. Every man of them, almost, could tell of long voyages. They knew the Antilles well, and the other groups of American islands. Some knew more of the coasts of South America, some of Europe. More in number, and even more full of daring and of danger, were the tales he had heard of the whale fishery, with its glimpse of ice-fields, icebergs, frozen seas, and its combats not only with the oil-producing monsters of the sea, but with white bears also, and walruses, and hostile red men; to him, therefore, these men of theNoank'scompany were the heroes of the ocean. He admired them tremendously, just now, as they discussed, in their matter-of-fact way, quietly, calmly, fearlessly, the seemingly desperate chances just before them. They all admitted, without hesitation, that it was a pretty doubtful problem whether or not they would be able to escape not only the one cruiser near them, but afterward the vigilant British blockade of the Sound entrance and of the adjacent waters. TheNoankhad very serious risks to run before she could spread her wings on the Atlantic.
The mist was hanging lower, thicker, whiter, and the morning gun from Fort Griswold had long since announced that in the opinion of the gunners the sun had risen.
"Hullo! What?" exclaimed Captain Avery, springing to his feet. "Another? They don't fire a shotted gun jest for sunrise."
His practical ears had told him that this report was not made by a blank cartridge. What could it mean?
"Gunner saw lobster ship," said Up-na-tan, quietly.
Away he went, then, toward his long eighteen, followed by Coco and Guert and several sailors.
"Captain Avery," he called back, "ole chief get gun ready. S'pose fort gunner no fool."
"Ready with her!" said the captain. "Ready! Every gun! Silence, all! This fog's a friend of ours."
The Indian's understanding of the shotted cannon was correct. The sharp-eyed lookout upon the rampart had detected something more than fog in the general whiteness which concealed the sea, and the nearest gunner had at once put in a nine-pound ball on top of his signal cartridge.
"That brig has crept in to watch for theNoank," they said to each other. "Let's give her a pill."
The pill went well enough for a warning to theBoxerthat her sly creeping in had been discovered, but it did no damage. Probably its best use was the response it provoked from the too hasty gunners of theBoxer. For the brig to fire at the fort was mere bravado, of course; but her commander was nettled.
"Give 'em a broadside!" he roared. "Let 'em have it. They can't strike us out here in the mist. Blaze away!"
All the port guns of the brig, five in number, were of small account against earth and stone works; but they could express warlike feeling, and they immediately did so, and they did one thing more.
"Good!" said Captain Avery, as he heard them. "Now I know jest where she is. Wish I knew how she's headed. We've all sail on. Keep still, all! We can slip past her."
As quietly as so many ghosts, the men went hither and thither about their duties. They had not very much to do, for every square yard of the schooner's canvas was already taking that fair light wind. The brig, on the other hand, was by no means under full sail, for some reason, and she was tacking now that she might run deeper into the fog and out of the way of harm from the fort batteries. These were not wasting any more ammunition upon her, or rather upon the mist and the sea. Only her topsails had been seen, in the first place, and these had been quickly hidden again. The two vessels were, nevertheless, drawing nearer to each other, unawares. There was no carefully kept silence on board theBoxer; on the contrary, her crew were every now and then doing something to send out notice to any ears near enough to hear. At close quarters she would have been a dangerous antagonist for the Yankee schooner. There was nothing at all to be made in a fight with her, and Captain Avery was strongly averse to the idea of having his vessel crippled or worse at the very outset of his voyage.
A wonderful thing is a curtain of sea fog. Sometimes it may be beautiful, but it is never at all under human control. TheNoankwas running swiftly along and the very breeze which made her do so was getting its grip upon the banks of vapor. It tore one of these in the middle, suddenly. A great rift was opened, and clear water showed across one short half-mile of the tossing sea.
"There she blows!" sang out an old harpooner of theNoank'screw, as if theBoxerhad been a whale.
"Luff! Luff!" shouted the British commander. "Bring your guns to bear! We have her! Hurrah!"
"Whoo-oop! Up-na-tan!" came fiercely from behind the breech of theNoank'slong eighteen, and the Manhattan's warwhoop was closely followed by the roar of his gun.
"Hard a-lee!" called out Captain Avery. "Sam! Run her into the fog. All hands, to go about. We must get under cover ag'in."
Short range and a good aim, with theBoxer'smasts nearly in line, had been bad for the Englishman's triumph. Down came his foretopmast, splintered at the cap, dragging with it enough of spars and hamper to assure that anything like racing condition had been knocked out of the brig. She obeyed her helm, at first. She swung around and her port broadside was delivered; but it was a mere waste of powder and round iron. Not a shot touched the saucyNoank, speeding away through a fog bank.
Loud, indeed, was the startled exclamation of the astonished British commander as he surveyed his unexpected damages.
"'Pon my soul!" he said. "That pirate is going to get away from us. This is too bad, altogether!"
His sailors sprang to do what they might for the wreck, but the appearance of things was unpromising.
"Good for you, Up-na-tan!" said Captain Avery. "That shot tells for old practice. I guess I'd better make you captain of that gun."
"Ole chief keep gun," replied the Indian. "Find gun shoot straight. Good!"
"I'm mighty glad o' that," said the captain. "I mean to train every hand on board, though. We may get stuck where we can't afford to miss a shot. Straight shootin' is better than the heaviest kind o' shootin' that doesn't hit."
The breeze was increasing finely, and away went the swift privateer. She had escaped from her first pursuer, and not far ahead of her, now, were pretty surely her next batch of perils.