CHAPTER XLVIII.
IN WHICH CAPTAIN JACK FINDS ENEMIES AMONG HIS OWN MEN—THE TABLES ARE TURNED.
It was now very plain, from the progress of our story, that Colonel Blood had fully got Captain Jack and his gang under his thumb, and that their very lives depended on his will and pleasure.
It was also known that he was a great favourite of the king, and that whatever he might say or do was law.
Old Tom Bates—he with the long nose, off which Colonel Blood had not long ago knocked a large pimple—was in exceeding great wrath, and secretly vowed vengeance against Colonel Blood.
If the truth must be told, old Bates had not long before that had a long conference with Captain Jack about this Colonel Know-all, as Bates termed him.
He and Captain Jack met by accident, one evening, and entering a wine-shop, began to drink very heavily.
“I tell yer what it is, captain,” said old Bates, tossing off a bumper and winking very cunningly, “I’ll tell yer what it is, captain.”
“Well, whatisit?” said Captain Jack, adjusting the black patch over his eye, and winking with the other.
“Well, what I means to say, is this ’ere, Captain Jack. If things in our line don’t get a little brisker than they has been o’ late, why, I shall leave the Dozen and start on my own individual account.”
“Leave the Dozen, Bates?”
“Aye, why not?”
“But you can’t.”
“Aye, but I will, I tell yer, and you nor none on ’em can stop me. What’s the good o’ having a captain at the head on us who don’t do something in the way o’ trade? Why, since that affair of old Bertram’s murder, we’ve had nothing at all to do, and you must recollect, captain, that a man of my mettle can’t stand that sort o’ game any longer. Give me plenty o’ money and little work; that’s my style.”
“Well, I’m listening,” said Captain Jack, laughing; “go on, I’m all attention.”
“You may laugh as much as you’ve a mind to,” said old Bates, in an angry tone; “but that don’t suit me; I want money, and money I’ll have, by fair means or foul.”
“Well, then, get it; it’s none o’ my business,” said Captain Jack, in a surly tone; “I’m just as short as any one.”
“And how comes it we are all so hard up, then?”
“I don’t know; business is dull. I suppose that’s it.”
“No it ain’t,” said old Bates, sneeringly. “Business is as good as ever it was, but you are growing as timid as a girl, Captain Jack.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You needn’t foam, and sweat, and swear, I knows all about it.”
“About what?”
“Why, that affair with you and Colonel Blood; you are under his thumb, my man.”
“Well, suppose I am, what then? Didn’t he threaten to hang every one of the Dozen on the cross-roads if we didn’t find out the murderer of old Farmer Bertram?”
“Well, and so we have. Haven’t you got young Redgill in prison for it?”
“Yes,” said Captain Jack, but at the same time he knew he was telling a lie, and tried to whistle.
“Now you’ve got the right party, what more claim has the colonel got against us?”
“Young Redgill ain’t hung yet; the bargain holds good, so the colonel says, until that’s accomplished.”
“Why, that’s another condition,” said old Bates, with an oath; “first it was capture him, now it’s stop till he’s hanged; there seems to be some mystery about this whole affair, Captain Jack; there has been some bargain or other between you and this young Redgill.”
“Bargain,” said Captain Jack indignantly, “bargain! what do you mean?”
“Why I mean this, Captain Jack, that you’ve been doing a shuffling business with all of us.”
“Do you mean to insult me?” said Jack, placing his hand upon his sword and looking very ferocious.
“I don’t care whether you take it as an insult or not, one man’s word is as good as another, and young Redgill told the gaolers that you have had thousands from him one time and another.”
“Thousands!” said Captain Jack, indignantly, “why, the fellow must be mad to talk in that way; why, he never had thousands in all his life.”
“Not by fair means, I dare say, Jack; but there ain’t a doubt but what he has paidyouwell enough.”
“Now, look here, Bates,” said Captain Jack, “you must be either dreaming or mad; I only received what he owed me of borrowed money.”
“Borrowed money,” said Old Bates, laughing out lustily, “borrowed money, eh? Why, you must take me for a perfect fool, Captain Jack.”
“Well and suppose I do?”
“Why, all I can say, then, you are d—nably mistaken.”
“Hullo, Bates, hullo! what does all this mean, eh? You get me to crack a bottle of wine with you, and then you turn round and abuse me.”
“No I don’t, it’s you that abusesme. Do you think for a moment you could have thousands of pounds to lend to a young rascal like that? No, no, Captain Jack; if youdothink me a fool, I tell you again you are d—nably mistaken, that’s all.”
“Come, come, old man, let’s have no noisy words fromyou, you know you’d have been hung long ago except for me.”
“Would I? and ain’t you as thick in the mud as I am in the mire? Listen to me.”
As he spoke, he leaned across the table and whispered,
“How about that money you lost at cards t’other night?”
“What do you mean?” said Jack, reddening.
“I suppose you don’t know that Phillip Redgill has escaped from prison, do you?”
“You are a liar,” said Captain Jack, with an oath, trying to look firm and desperate; “you are a liar, Bates, and if you were not so old, and a faithful pal, I’d——”
“Oh, no, you wouldn’t,” said Bates. “I am captain now.”
“What’s that you say?”
“Nay, you needn’t curse and swear, Jack; I’m telling you the truth.”
“But that ain’t the truth.”
“Yes it is.”
“No it ain’t, you old liar.”
“Look at this, then,” said old Bates, pulling out twelve warrants cancelled, “do you know what these mean?”
“Why, those are the death warrants that Colonel Blood had when he went down to Darlington!”
“I know it.”
“But he had thirteen, not twelve.”
“I know he had, but Colonel Blood holds the odd one.”
“Indeed, and whose is it?”
“Why, your’s, Jack.”
“Mine?”
“Yes, and no mistake.”
“And do you mean to say that Colonel Blood has given the twelve to you and not the odd one also?”
“I do mean it, and for a special reason.”
Old Bates was so triumphant in his manner, that Captain Jack looked staggered and amazed.
“Why, you take all the breath out of my body, Bates,” said Jack.
“The breath soon will be taken out of your body, if you don’t mind; there’s a nice new gibbet waiting for you, so Colonel Bland says.”
“Why, what is all this for?”
“It has come to the colonel’s ears that you have been playing false to him, and you know he never forgives an enemy.”
“The devil!” said Jack; “do you mean to say, then, that he knows all about Redgill?”
“He does; and since he has escaped, he has made up his mind to have revenge on you.”
Old Bates smiled like an old ogre as he pulled out of his capacious pocket a sealed document.
“Do you know what this is?” said Bates.
“It looks like a warrant.”
“And so it is—you are not mistaken—it is for your own apprehension.”
“You are joking.”
“I was never more serious in all my life.”
“And do you mean to arrest me?”
“That depends,” said Bates. “The Dozen and I have had several meetings, and it was resolved to throw you out of the captaincy, and put me in.”
“Well!”
“I begged for your life hard, very hard, Jack, for all the lads swore you had played foully with them, and deserved to die.”
“But I haven’t, Tom.”
“You have, Jack; you have been flashing about town for a long time like a lord, and spending lots of money, which ought to have been divided among us; for we’ve been as poor for the last few months as church mice.”
“What do you propose to do, then?” said Jack, drinking his wine; “what do the lads intend to do? Surely you cannot think I’d let myself be taken by any of my old pals while I carry a sword by my side.”
“Your sword would do very little good for you, Jack; for I could call upon the citizens here in this place, and carry you off by fair means or foul, if I liked. Here’s my warrant, as you see, ‘Arrest him, dead or alive;’ those are the colonel’s words.”
“The colonel is a scoundrel,” said Jack, striking the table; “and if I ever come across him I’d—”
“Hush!” said old Bates; “don’t talk so loudly; you might be heard by somebody.”
“Well, go on, let’s hear the very worst. I know you’ve got me in a very tight corner.”
“Yes, Jack, and one from which you cannot possibly escape, if I only say so.”
“Well, no matter; a short life and a merry one,” said Jack. “Here, landlord, bring me another bottle.”
“You have not paid for the last one yet, sir,” said the landlord.
“What!” said Jack, indignantly, “not paid? What mean ye, sirrah?”
“I don’t mean anything in particular,” said the landlord; “but I know your face well.”
“What of that?”
“In fact, I know it too well.”
“Explain yourself. Do you wish to insult a gentleman like me, eh, knave?”
“Nay, sir, I do not; but the last time you called here you had a party of friends with you; you had the best supper I could provide, and dozens of my best wine, and not a single farthing was paid for anything.”
“Zounds, villain, would you insult me?” said Jack, attempting to draw his sword. “Zounds, knave, have I lost all spirit that I must be insulted thus by such a pot cleaner as thou? Out on the man; for a groat I would run thee through and through thy fat carcase.”
“Silence, Jack, silence,” said Bates; “if you make any disturbance the officers will be called in, and then it will be all up with you. Put up your sword, I say.”
Jack thrust his blade back into its scabbard, and growled out a fierce oath of vengeance.
Bates waved off the landlord with a promise to pay all arrears, and then he said to Jack calmly, and in a whisper,
“Never mind the pot-bellied publican’s account. I will make that all right. Time is precious; I haven’t many minutes to stop here.”
“Well, what do you intend to do? Are you going to blow the gaff on an old pal like me?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Why this; none of us like Colonel Blood.”
“I know that well enough.”
“Well, one or t’other must die.”
“How do you mean? I or the colonel?”
“Just so; we’ve come to that agreement. Now it depends upon you which it is.”
“Why, then, the colonel, of course,” said Jack, laughing, and half drunk, “the colonel, of course. I wouldn’t think of having the honour myself jet awhile, you know, Bates.”
“That’s what all of us thought.”
“And the lads were right. I hate Blood; yes, I hate him worse than the devil himself.”
“And what do you intend to do?”
“Why, waylay him and give him a sly poke in the ribs; for if he’s not put out of the way soon, all of us will be hung, one by one, when he’s served his turn with each.”
“That’s my idea, and also the opinion of every man in the Dozen.”
“Look you here,” said Jack, suddenly brightening up, “if the colonel has made up his mind to act in such a rascally manner towards me, I can do so towards him.”
“What do you mean?” said old Bates, pricking up his ears.
“Why, I mean that there is a secret about him he little dreams I know anything about.”
“Ah, indeed! what is it, then?”
“It’s worth a great deal of money,” said Jack, winking.
“How much?”
“Why, £500.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t, but I do.”
“Then out with it.”
“Secresy and honour,” said Jack.
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, then, read this,” said Jack, pulling out of his pocket a printed proclamation, which he placed before the wondering eyes of Tom Bates. “You read it; there it is.”
“Whereasan atrocious attempt at murder has been made upon the accepted suitor of one Ellen Harmer, the daughter of the miller at Darlington.“And whereas, by a most miraculous chance, the body of the unfortunate youth, Andrew, was timely discovered in the river, and resuscitated.“Therefore, the above reward of“£300
“Whereasan atrocious attempt at murder has been made upon the accepted suitor of one Ellen Harmer, the daughter of the miller at Darlington.
“And whereas, by a most miraculous chance, the body of the unfortunate youth, Andrew, was timely discovered in the river, and resuscitated.
“Therefore, the above reward of
“£300
“will be paid to any person or persons who shall give such information as shall lead to the discovery or apprehension of the offender or offenders.
“The unfortunate young man was severely wounded, and the shock has been so great that his reason is for the time being lost to him.
“The village authorities of Darlington, on the night of the attempted murder, noticed the arrival in the neighbourhood of a carriage and four.
“The person suspected had a servant attending him during the three hours he remained in the village. His master, the supposed culprit, was traced to London, and from all accounts bears the following description:—
“About 35 years of age; 5 feet 8 or 9 inches in height; thick set and powerfully made; black moustache; whiskers (supposed to be false); close cut hair; wore a cloak, and had the appearance of a military man.”
“Why that description,” said Bates, looking at Jack in surprise, “corresponds to—”
“Blood!” said Jack, in a hoarse whisper.
“You surprise me.”
“Does it? but wait, I’m not done yet,” said Jack, “since he has commenced his games with me, he’ll find a tougher fellow to deal with than he expects. Look at this.”
“Another proclamation!” said Bates, in wonder.
“Yes, read it, and then you’ll find out that I have got my enemy fairly on the hip.”
Bates unfolded the printed paper and read:—
“Whereas, Ellen Harmer, the daughter of old Harmer, the miller, of Darlington, was forcibly abducted from her father’s home by some person or persons unknown, on the night of the attempted murder of young Andrew, her acknowledged suitor;
“And whereas, it has come to the knowledge of Sir Richard Warbeck, the chief magistrate of Darlington, that two suspicious persons, with a carriage in attendance, were seen prowling about the village on the night in question;
“Therefore the above reward will be paid to any one who shall give such information as shall lead to the apprehension of the offender or offenders and enable the young maiden to be restored to the arms of her disconsolate father.
“The following particulars regarding the supposed unknown abductor may, perhaps, lead to his apprehension.
“About 35 years of age, 5 feet 8 or 9 inches in height, thick set and powerfully made; black moustache, whiskers (supposed to be false), close cut hair, wore a cloak, and had the appearance of a military man.”
For a moment or two old Bates could scarcely recover from his astonishment.
At last he gasped out, and in a suppressed tone,
“Why, they must relate to one and the same person, Jack.”
“I know they do.”
“But I never saw these proclamations on the walls about London yet.”
“I dare say not, and for a very good reason why.”
“What reason?”
“Why, they were given to me to distribute them, and—”
“You didn’t I suppose?”
“Yes, I did, but only in such out-of-the-way places where they would do no earthly good.”
For some time both men kept silent.
“I understand it all,” said Bates, at last, “this person who is unknown you know?”
“Yes.”
“This gentleman none of us can guess at.”
“You twig, I perceive.”
“Yes, rather. He goes down, half murders the lover, and then throws him in the river; and, thinking he’s dead, runs off with the girl.”
“Exactly.”
“But she wasn’t rich?”
“No, but she is very handsome; a perfect Venus.”
“And what could have been his object?”
“To gratify the king.”
“I see; just so; and has he acted a friend to you?”
“No, not to me in particular; but as he promised to befriend all of us, I kept the thing secret from the Londoners, for £500 isn’t to be sneezed at, you know.”
“And do you mean to say that all this is true?”
“Then he’s a villain of the worst sort.”
“On my oath, Bates.”
“I know he is now; and more than that I always suspected him, but never expected to find he’d prove such a cool, calculating scoundrel; but I’ll be even with him, trust me.”
“And this girl—what of her?” said Bates; “we are all pretty hard up at this moment; two hundred pounds would be a fine windfall for us.”
“So it would; and more than that, I know all about her and where she is.”
“The devil!”
“And it would be the easiest thing in the world to rescue her, for she’s pining away, and is strictly guarded both night and day by a deaf and dumb Nubian slave—a eunuch, in fact—a fierce, tall, ugly-looking devil.”
“Never mind; if we can only once get into the apartment, we shan’t have much difficulty in getting clear off with the girl,” said Bates; “the colonel is not supposed to know that you or I have any hand in this affair. If what you say proves true, Jack, we can easily put the colonel out of the way, and we shall be all right again. What do you say? Shall we try it to-night?”
“I’m willing. I’m dying to have revenge on the deceitful rascal.”
“Then to-night let it be. Come with me; the Dozen are assembled in a quiet place, waiting for me. I will settle with the old landlord.”
“And so will I,” thought Captain Jack to himself, “and sooner than he expects.”
“We will have to wear masks,” said Bates.
“Yes, and keep dead silence.”
“If we meet with any opposition, you know—?”
“Oh, as to that,” said Jack, “we won’t stand nice on trifles. It’s a case of life or death with me.”
So speaking, Bates and Captain Jack strolled towards the “quiet place” spoken of, and in less than half an hour Jack, half-drunk, rolled in among the “Dozen,” who were already assembled.
They looked daggers at him, and would, perhaps, have resorted to violence, but Bates whispered something to them which cooled their anger.
Captain Jack reeled into a chair, and was soon fast asleep and snoring.
“Keep an eye on him, my men,” said Bates, in a whisper; “I am going out on very important business, which I will explain on my return. Jack’s all right. Don’t have any rows or quarrels with him; let him have all the drink he wants, but don’t let him go out on any account.”
So speaking, Tom Bates buttoned up his coat, looked to his sword and pistols, and vent forth alone into the darkness and blinding storm of sleet and rain.