CHAPTER IV.
SIR RICHARD WARBECK AND WILDFIRE NED—THE ONE-LEGGED SAILOR’S NARRATIVE.
Darlington Hall, the country residence of Sir Richard Warbeck, was an immense old building, high, strongly built, containing many galleries, vaults, and mysterious ins and outs, with numerous towers, effigies of men in armour on landings, corridors, and rooms, the old baronial edifice covered with ivy for the most part, and stood in a spacious, well-wooded park, not many miles from the sea.
The knight, from some unknown cause, though immensely wealthy, had never married, but consoled himself with adopting two friendless orphan youths, Charles and Edward, or Wildfire Ned, who, in his honour, took the name of Warbeck.
Charles, the elder of the two, was in London.
“Wildfire Ned,” as he had been christened by the country people, on account of his mad freaks, loved to live at the Hall, so that he might have ample opportunities for indulging in shooting, fishing, hunting, swimming, and particularly sailing in a small bay near by, a sport of which he was so passionately fond that old salts always called him “Ned, the Sailor Boy.”
His adopted uncle loved Ned, perhaps more so than Charles, for he was a handsome, brave, and adventurous youth of about fifteen years old, the ladies’ pet, and the envy of all young men for miles around.
The old knight had long tried to curb his roving and seafaring propensities, but all to no purpose.
On the cold December night on which the story opens—the night after old Bertram’s murder—the knight sat by a huge log fire in his library, reading.
Ned was pouring over some favourite “tale of the sea,” and sighing for a chance to distinguish himself against the many bloodthirsty pirates and buccaneers that then infested the neighbouring seas.
“Oh! isn’t that jolly?” said Ned, striking the table with his fist. “Oh! I wish I had been there.”
“Where?” said the knight, looking up in surprise.
“Why, in the ship I’m reading about. Didn’t they give the pirates and smugglers something, that’s all! Why, uncle, a small English sloop of war with six guns, fought a whole fleet of buccaneers. Wasn’t that jolly, eh?”
“Still thinking of the sea, eh, Ned?”
“Yes, uncle (for both he and Charles always so called him), and why not? Our sailors are the bravest and finest fellows in the world. Wouldn’tIlike to be a middy in the king’s navy, that’s all? I’d lay my life I should be an admiral before I was twenty.”
Sir Richard did not reply; but walked to the window thoughtfully, and looked out upon the cold, snow-covered landscape, and as the winds sighed mournfully down the chimney, he tapped Ned affectionately on the head, as he said,
“Ah, my lad, your brother Charles will make the best man of the two yet; see, he is not much older than you are, and yet he stands well in the East Indian house, and will be a rich man one of these days if he’s industrious and behaves himself.”
“Perhaps so,” said Ned, biting his lip; “but I never did like pen and ink and figures; that sort of work is too slow for me.”
“I know it. You would rather go hunting and boating; but, believe me, there are more hardships at sea than boys like you ever dreamed of, Ned.”
“Ishouldn’t mind ’em.”
“And danger, too.”
“That’s just what I should like,” said curly-headed Ned, laughing. “I wouldn’t give a dump for an English boy without he liked adventures and danger, and could well beat any foreigner he came across.”
While he spoke the lodge bell rang.
“Who is that?” asked the knight of a footman who entered.
“Tim, the groom boy, sir, as he rode home, picked up a poor one-legged sailor, for he was afraid, he said, to pass the gibbets on the wild heath alone.”
“Who, the sailor or Tim?”
“The groom, sir.”
“I thought it wasn’t the sailor,” said Ned. “An English sailor without legs at all is more than a match for any foreigner with two, and as to being afraid to pass the gibbets, ha! ha! British tars ain’t afraid of men dangling in chains.”
“Silence, Ned. What of this poor sailor?”
“Tim said, sir, as how Master Edward were fond of sailors.”
“So I am; Tim was right.”
“He brought him to the Hall to pass the night.”
“Good boy, Tim,” said Ned. “I owe him a shilling for that. Won’t we pump all the yarns out of him before he goes to-morrow, that’s all?”
“Where is this cripple, then?”
“Tim is stuffing him in the kitchen, sir.”
“Well, when he has done eating, show him up here. Stir up the fire; put more logs on; that will do. And now, Edward, since you are so fond of reading trash about the sea, we will hear what this poor cripple has got to say. I have no doubt when you hearhisstory of real life, it will help to cure you of your wild and foolish notions about the navy. If you want to go to sea for a time, take a trip in a merchant ship.”
“That is not like the king’s navy, no more than a militia-man at home is like one of the royal guard who has fought against the French, uncle.”
“If you wished to take a trip, my old friend Redgill has half a dozen ships, and will be glad to oblige me.”
“I don’t like the name of Redgill, or his ships either,” said Ned, with a scornful curl of his lip.
“What is that you say, sir?”
“I can’t help it, uncle; I don’t like any of the Redgills; as to Phillip, I hate him.”
“Remember, Edward, they are relations of mine, which you are not.”
“I know it, uncle,” said Ned, with a sigh. “Charley and I depend upon you for everything. We are poor, friendless orphans.”
“And perhaps may remain friendless and moneyless, too, if you do not do my bidding, young sir; remember that.”
“I know it, uncle; but I hope to gain my own living ere many months have passed over my head. But whether I am rich or poor, I shall hate Phil Redgill all the same.”
“Why, sir?”
“He is a rank coward. I despise him.”
“Coward!—despise him! What mean you? Do you know he may one day inherit my fortune?”
“I do. I don’t hate him for that; but he is a coward and a cunning knave into the bargain. He is much older than I am; but I could thrash the very life out of him in ten minutes, if he’d only stand up like a man. I have told him that more than once, uncle, and have shoved my fist in his face often and often; he is a sly thief and a liar, uncle,” said Wildfire Ned, getting red and very passionate. “Tim and I know what he has done before now. Charley and he are very thick, I hear, in London; but, if brother tookmyadvice, he would shun Phil Redgill like a snake in the grass. If he don’t come to the gallows in time, why, then, he must have more lives than a cat, that’s all.”
The knight was astounded at this; but while he stood staring at Ned, the door opened, and in walked the footman and Tim the boy groom, leading in the one-legged sailor.
Timothy, the groom, or Tiny Tim, as he was called, on account of his small stature, looked pale and frightened.
His staring eyes, and hair standing on end, told plainly that he had been frightened by something or somebody on the road from Portsmouth.
“What’s the matter, Tim?” Ned asked, laughing. “Why, you look as if you had seen a dozen ghosts on the road.”
“So I have, Master Edward, more than a dozen.”
“More than a dozen ghosts, lad?” asked the knight, laughing. “Did you bring the letters safe?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Tim; “here they are, sir; but I had to ride for my dear life like the devil.”
“What does the lad mean?” the knight asked. “Surely he is not crazy? Sit down and compose yourself.”
“Well, sir,” said Tim, “directly I got the letters I started back home again; but as I was trotting along I saw a man on horseback waiting for me; he looked like a highway robber, so I turns my horse down another road to get out of his way.”
“Well, what then?”
“I hadn’t gone far, sir, and was just passing the Red Man’s gibbet, as they calls it, at the cross roads, when the wind began to howl and cry like so many living voices.”
“You were not afraid of all that, I hope?”
“No, sir, but the vultures were flying about the gibbet, and their eyes sparkled in the moonlight like so many coals of fire.”
“Well?”
“I didn’t care much about that, but when I got fairly under the gibbet, and was about to pass by, I looked up, and I saw the Red Man’s eyes glaring on me, and he seemed to shake himself, for his chains rattled awfully.”
“Nonsense! he has been dead this many a-year; it was all fancy, Tim,” said Wildfire Ned, chuckling.
“No, it wasn’t, sir, all due respect to you, sir; he was alive.”
“Alive?”
“Aye, gentlemen, alive; I could swear it as sure as I live.”
“You were timorous, that is all, and fancied so.”
“No, Sir Richard, I never was so brave in all my life, although I felt my blood run cold.It spoke to me.”
“Spoke to you?”
“Yes sir.”
“What did it say?”
“‘Halt!’ it shouted, and on the instant my horse stopped, and would not budge an inch. ‘Halt!’ it said, in awful tones, glaring down on me with its fiery eyes. ‘I am one of the Skeleton Crew,’ it said; ‘go, tell your master that Farmer Bertram is murdered!’”
“Dead?” “Murdered?” said several in surprise.
“When did this foul deed take place?” asked the old knight.
“‘Murdered last night,’ said the Red Man from the gibbet, ‘as the Darlington village clock tolled the hour of one! Ha! ha! the Skeleton Crew still lives, and rules the seas, and will long defy the power of man. Fly from this spot, or become one of the dead!’”
“This is a most horrible revelation,” said the old knight.
“I did not stop to hear more, for I shouted with fright, and galloped madly away, feeling as if frozen to the very marrow, forI had spoken with the dead!”
Tiny Tim looked exhausted, and shivered in every limb.
He could not proceed with his story very quickly, for his teeth chattered again.
“Give the lad a stiff glass of brandy, Ned,” said the kind-hearted knight.
Ned did so; avery“stiff” one indeed, it was, which made the groom’s eyes twinkle again.
The one-legged sailor was treated in like manner, when Tim continued—
“I galloped along till I reached the edge of the wild and barren heath, but then I felt faint, for I perceived another horrid sight in the distance! I was compelled to cross the heath, for it was my only way here to the Hall. Unable to guide my horse, I sat still shivering in the cold, knowing not what to do, when all of a sudden the one-legged sailor seemed to spring out of the earth close beside me.
“The next moment I found him sitting on the horse beside me!
“He took the reins, and the mare dashed onwards like lightning, as if neither of us were heavier than two straws.
“All I remember is that as we galloped along we came up to three fires on the roadside which burned with a dark blue flame, and around them were, shrieking and dancing—the Skeleton Crew!
“I fainted. When I came to my senses again we were at the Lodge gate.”
Sir Richard, Ned, the footman, and other members of the household, who had now gathered around, listened to Tim’s story with bated breath.
The footman looked terror-stricken, and trembled so, that, during the groom’s story, his pig-tail (the fashion in those days) gradually rose, until at last it stood stiff and erect above his head, a powdered pillar of horror.
“Is the lad dreaming, or is he turned crazy?” said Sir Richard.
“No; the lad is right, sir,” said the one-legged sailor, making bold to speak. “My name is Ralph Spray, your honour, late of the king’s navy; and, if so be as how I’m not intruding, I will tell you all about it. This ’ere good-natur’d lad, the groom, is almost turned grey wi’ only havin’ a peep at some on ’em, but how must it be wi’ me, who has fought with the Skeleton Crew?”
“Is it true, then, that thereissuch a crew?” asked the knight, in surprise.
“Aye, true, sir, as I sits here, for I lost my other leg among ’em. I ought not to forget ’em, for theyhave given me plenty o’ reason to remember ’em by.”
WILDFIRE NED VISITS THE RED MAN ON THE HEATH.—See No. 3.
WILDFIRE NED VISITS THE RED MAN ON THE HEATH.—See No. 3.
WILDFIRE NED VISITS THE RED MAN ON THE HEATH.—See No. 3.
“Do you say, then, that you believe thereissuch a thing as a Skeleton Crew?” asked the knight, very slowly, and looking very hard at Ned’s interested face.
“Do I? why, in course I do,” said the one-legged stranger, in a huffish manner, “for I’m one on ’em my——”
“What!” gasped every one, rising to their feet.
“I’m one on ’em myself—as suffered by ’em.”
“O-h-h-h!” said one and all, very much relieved, for they thought that the cripple was going to say thathewas one of the Skeleton Crew.
“Well, as I were about to say, gentlemen,” Ralph Spray continued, “I served as an able seaman on board His Majesty’s sloop of war ‘Dolphin,’ and we lay in the Sound. We hadn’t been there long afore the news reached us about the wild doings of the Skeleton Crew. At first we didn’t believe any o’ the strange tales, but at last we were ordered off to cruise after the Phantom Ship and Skeleton Crew.”
“And did you ever overhaul them?” asked Ned, impatiently.
“Lor’ bless yer simple heart! overhaul them? No, not us; but theyvery soon overhauled us, my lad!”
“Is it possible? Overhaul one of the king’s ships?”
“Ha, my God; and massacred every soul on board, save one!”
“And who was he?”
“I myself; Ralph Spray.”
“You?”
“Yes, I.”
“Why, how can that be? You must have had at least 150 men on board the ‘Dolphin,’” said the knight.
“’Zactly; and the Skeleton Crew couldn’t muster half as many, I suppose you mean?”
“Just so.”
“Aye, sir, but we on board the ‘Dolphin’ were men.”
“Brave men, too, no doubt.”
“Yes; but them on board the Phantom Ship weren’t men at all.”
“What, then, in heaven’s name?”
“Why, devils!”
The footman, nay, every one of Ralph’s audience, were listening open-mouthed and with staring eyes.
“Devils?” asked Ned.
“Yes, devils, young man.”
A pause took place, and every one took a long breath, and creeped closer to the fire as Ralph continued—
“We caught sight of the Phantom Ship once. It was painted red. We gave chase, and came within two miles of it, when it changed its colour to blue! We wasn’t going to be taken in, so we fired a broadside right into her, and——”
“Sunk her,” asked Ned.
“Not a bit on it, it vanished intomist.”
Several of the servants and members of the household whom the kind knight had allowed to listen to the cripple’s tale, now wished themselves in their bed-rooms, or in the servants’ hall.
They were unable to leave their seats, however, for they felt fastened down to them, and in some manner fascinated by the charmed eye of the speaker.
The footman’s pig-tail worked to and fro like the pendulum of a clock, and, at certain passages, stood bolt upright as its owner inwardly and sometimes audibly groaned at what he heard.
“Vanished into mist, eh? How extraordinary!” said the knight. “Then it must be a charmed ship, and a charmed crew.”
“’Zactly, sir, and I’ll tell yer how I proves it. The ‘Dolphin’ often gave chase to this Phantom Ship, but could never catch it, although sometimeswecaught more than we liked.”
“Indeed! what was that then?”
“Why, a well-aimed broadside.”
“From the Phantom Ship?”
“’Zactly, and a devil of a mess they left us in more nor once, and we were glad to sheer off.”
“Extraordinary! it sounds like a dream.”
“But it ain’t, though, for one foggy night, when the ‘Dolphin’ lay anchored in the Sound, me and Tom Robinson were keeping watch on deck, and never thinking of any harm, for all the crew were snug in their hammocks, when it almost turned me grey to see three score of the Skeleton Crew clamber over the ship’s side like shadows, and begin to cut and hack us about awful. The deck was cleared in a second.”
“Did you not alarm the ship, and beat to quarters?”
“What was the use? I rushed to go below, but only put one leg down the hatchway ladder when it was cut off clean as a whistle.”
“Didn’t the crew rush up to assist you?”
“How could they, they were all dead!”
“Dead?”
“Yes, dead as door nails. The only ones to rush up was a gang o’ the Skeleton Crew who had been below quietly murdering the men in their hammocks.”
“Horrible!”
“Astounding!”
“But there’s worse to come,” said Ralph.
The footman, with his pig-tail standing on end, made a move towards the door.
The old housekeeper was almost fainting.
Tim’s hair was like the quills of a porcupine as he listened with open mouth and distended eyes.
“Well, as soon as they got possession of the ‘Dolphin’ these skeleton devils weighed anchor in a jiffey and made sail away.
“They pitched the dead overboard, every mother’s son of the crew, mind ye; but, as well as I could, I bound up my leg tight to keep it from bleeding, and crawled into an old cask.
“There I stayed for two days and two nights as quiet as a mouse a watching of these skeleton devils, and I heard and saw as much as would have killed any ordinary man.”
“Learn any of their secrets, do you mean?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What were they?”
“Why, I learned that they never would and never could be conquered by all the king’s navy, for every one on ’em, ships and all, had charmed lives; but, as far as I could understand, they all trembled when they heard the name of a boy who had been born to destroy ’em.”
“A boy born to conquer and destroy that horrible band?”
“Aye, just so, sir; for they admitted among themselves that he was charmed more than they were, and would be sent to scourge them from the sea.”
“Wonderful!”
“I wishIwere that boy,” said Ned, with a flushed cheek.
“Do you?” said the cripple.
“Yes, I do,” said Wildfire Ned, proudly. “I don’t believe in charms or spells, but I do believe if I had a good crew I should soon annihilate the whole of them.”
“Perhaps you are boasting, young man?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Do you say, then, you could, and that you would, face the whole Skeleton Crew single-handed?”
“Yes; and trust to heaven for strength to destroy them.”
“You never have seen any of them yet?”
“No; but I much desire to do so.”
“Then behold!” said the one-legged sailor, stamping his foot on the floor, and pointing towards the window.
In an instant a crash of glass was heard.
Every one, save Ned, screamed aloud at the ghastly sight before them.
There, with his head and half of his body visible at the window and protruding through it, stood a horrible form!
It was one of the Skeleton Crew!
In an instant Wildfire Ned pulled out a pistol and fired.
The ghastly form moved not!
He thought he heard the ball rattle among the bones of the Skeleton.
He fired again.
With a loud laugh of derision and triumph the Skeleton waved his plumed hat and vanished.
When Ned turned towards the crippled sailor—
He had disappeared!