CHAPTER VTHE CAPTAIN OF THE BANDOLIERNearly two long months had passed since Tom had lit that fateful fire on Misty Head, and Mr. Wallis, his hair somewhat greyer, and his face more deeply lined, was sitting with the captain of the Bandolier upon the grassy side of the bluff overlooking the bar. Both were smoking, and watching the figures of Jack and the little girl, who were on the beach below, Jack fishing, and the child wandering to and fro, busied in picking up seaweed and shells, and running up every few minutes to show them to the lad. Away to the northward, the headlands showed grey and soft through the misty sea haze which floated about the shore, and as Mr. Wallis let his gaze rest upon them, he leant his face upon his hand, and sighed heavily.'Wallis,' said the seaman presently, and speaking in a low voice, as he resumed the desultory conversation they had begun when they first sat down on the bluff to wait until Jack and little Nita returned to them, 'I want you to believe me when I say that there is not an hour of my life in which I do not feel that but for me this heavy blow would never have fallen on you.''Do not say that, Casalle. It was to be, and you do wrong to reproach yourself for the calamity with which it has pleased the Almighty to afflict me, and for which you are in no way responsible. And your sympathy has done much to help me. Heavy as is the sorrow which has come upon us both, we should yet reflect that we have no right to cry out in bitterness of spirit: for even though your wife was taken from you in that night of horror with awful suddenness, your little one was spared to comfort you; my boy was taken from me, but his brother is left. And as time goes on we shall begin to understand, Casalle, and even the dreadful manner of their deaths will in God's own time cease to be such an ever-present and heart-breaking reflection as it is to us now.'The master of the Bandolier made no answer. He had not that hope which to some men is a source of such sublime strength, when all the sweetness and joy and sunshine of life is snatched suddenly away, and the whole world becomes dark to the aching heart. But although he made no response to his companion's fervid speech, he felt its truth, and envied him the possession of such a deep-seated fount of calm, unquestioning faith.During the two months that had elapsed since he and his men had landed at Port Kooringa, a warm feeling of friendship had grown up between him and his host; and now that the time was drawing near for them to part--for he was to leave the quiet hospitable house under the bluff on the following day--he had tried to express his gratitude for the unceasing kindness and generosity which he, his child, and his officers and men had received at the hands of the owner of Kooringa Run.Presently Wallis rose. 'Come, let us go down to Jack and Nita. They have forgotten our existence, I believe; Jack is too busy pulling in whiting and sea-bream to even turn his head to see where we are, and Nita won't leave him, you may be sure.'Casalle laughed softly. 'Yes, they get on well together, don't they? I wonder how long it will be before I see her again,' he added wistfully.'Not very long, I hope,' said the squatter, cheerfully, 'not long--for all our sakes. And, although I know what a wrench it will be for you to leave her, I am sure you are doing wisely in giving her to us until she is old enough to manage your house in Samoa, when you give up the sea altogether, and settle down a prosperous planter. And I do not think that you will be long absent from her at a time. I shall certainly expect to see you again in less than two years.'The captain shook his head. 'I lost all I had in the world in the Bandolier, except her insurance. That will enable me to buy a small schooner to begin trading again; but I shall have to get long terms from the Sydney merchants for my trade goods. And I don't see how I am likely to see Kooringa again in two years--I'll have to make Samoa my headquarters for the next five, I fear.''My dear fellow,' said the squatter, 'you shall do no such thing--I mean that I am determined not to lose sight of you for five years. Make Samoa your headquarters if you will, but I might as well tell you now what I want you to do for me. I want you to let me be your banker. I am not a very wealthy man, but I can well spare four or five thousand pounds. And I have written to Sydney to have that sum placed to your credit in the Bank of Australasia. Look upon it, if you have luck in your trading ventures, as a loan; if, unfortunately, you should meet with further misfortune, consider it as a gift, given freely and with sincere pleasure by one friend to another. With this sum you can get at least one of the vessels you need, and have enough capital left to buy all the trade goods you require, and pay for them, instead of handicapping yourself by giving bills to the Sydney merchants. There is nothing more harassing and deterrent to a man's energies, than to know that his credit and reputation are in the hands of people thousands of miles away. Therefore, my dear Casalle, don't give a bill to any one. If you find that five thousand pounds will not pull you through, my agent in Sydney will come to your assistance.... There, there, don't say another word. 'Twould be "a moighty poor wurruld, indade," as Kate Gormon says, if we can't help one another. And then I don't want you to touch the Bandolier's insurance money. A thousand pounds is not much; leave it to accumulate for little Nita. Then again, as to your crew's wages, which you were intending to pay out of the insurance--that is all settled too.'The seaman's eyes filled. 'Wallis, what can I say? How can I tell you what I feel? I never had a friend in my life till I met you. My father, who was a native of Funchal, was killed in a boat accident when I was a boy of ten. He was a rough Portuguese whaler, and after his death my mother was left in poverty, and died when I was away at sea, on my first voyage. My one brother, who was seven years older than me, also went to sea. I have never seen him since, but heard that long after he had passed as second mate, he returned to our native island, only to find that our mother was dead, and that I had gone. Until I met my wife, who was a native of the New England States, I led the wildest, the most dissolute----'The master of Kooringa held up his hand. 'Never mind that, old man. There are not many--men such as you and I, wanderers on the face of the earth--who can show a clean sheet. Like you, I was sent out into the world when a mere boy; but I was less fortunate than you, for instead of a life of honourable hardship, I was led to look forward to--by my parents' influence--to one of ease. You, perhaps, were driven to dissipation when on shore, by the rough life of a whaleship's fo'c'sle. I led a dissipated and worthless existence, because I was cursed with ample funds, and but few of my many associates in India, during all the time I was in the Company's service, had any other thought but of leading a short life and a merry one, or else making as much money as possible and returning to England to live upon it. And like you, a good woman came to my rescue. Now, my dear fellow, let us say no more on this subject. Come, let us see what Jack has caught.'Too overcome to find words to express his gratitude for such unlooked-for generosity from a man who, two months before, had been an utter stranger, the captain could only wring his companion's hand in silence.In another day or two he would have to say good-bye to little Nita and the master of Kooringa; for the antiquated paddle-wheel coasting steamer William the Fourth, which called at Port Kooringa every three months, was then in harbour loading with hides and timber for Sydney, and he had taken passage by her. Brooker, the chief mate, and the whole of the crew, had preceded him some weeks by a sailing vessel, and were awaiting him in Sydney, for no one of them but wanted to sail with him again--and indeed the feeling that existed between captain and crew was something more like comradeship than aught else.But here I am again, drifting away to leeward, and never a word about the Bandolier herself, and how she came to such mishap, and what happened between the time of that unlucky fire and now--when the two men and Nita and Jack are walking slowly home to spend their last night together in the old house which faced the restless bar.* * * * *When the missing boat had sailed past Misty Head at dawn on the day following the fire, Mr. Wallis had told the officer that they should reach the boat-harbour just below his house in another three or four hours; but misfortune overtook them. Twice was the boat, despite the officer's careful handling of her, filled with lumping seas and swamped, and in this dangerous situation furious rain-squalls burst upon them, and lasted almost without cessation for two hours. So darkness had set in ere they landed at the little boat-harbour, drenched and exhausted, and the first intimation Captain Casalle had of the safety of the missing men was by being awakened out of a deep slumber by his American mate, who was standing at his bedside wringing his hands. He was soon followed by Mr. Wallis, who congratulated the master of the Bandolier most warmly upon his escape, and then added a few words of sympathy for the loss of his wife--the mate already having given him some particulars of the disaster to the ship and the manner of the poor lady's death.The moment he had entered the house, old Foster had told him of Tom's departure the previous day, and expressed some alarm when he found that his father had not seen him, and Mr. Wallis himself could not repress a feeling of anxiety. This he tried to put away, by thinking that the lad would be sure to turn up early on. the following morning. Many things, he knew, might have happened to delay Tom's return--primarily the fire, which might have caused him to make a wide detour, or else ride on hard to Kooringa Cape to avoid it; or perhaps--and this he thought very probable--the boy had had to take to the beach and wait till the fire burnt out before going on to the Cape. Nothing, however, could be done until morning, and in the morning they would be sure to see Tom safely back, none the worse for his adventure. He was a brave lad, and the bush and its ways were a second nature to him.Late that night, as the father and son were talking over the exciting incidents of the previous day, the captain of the Bandolier tapped at the dining-room door and then entered, followed by his mate. In a moment Mr. Wallis was on his feet and making his visitors comfortable, whilst big red-haired Kate brought in liquor, cigars, and pipes. Then until long past midnight the three talked, and solemn-faced Jack listened with devouring interest to the full tale of the wreck of the Bandolier.She was a barque of nearly four hundred tons, and Casalle's own vessel. He, from the time he was a lad of fifteen till he was nearly forty years of age, had sailed in American whaleships. From 'green hand' he had risen step by step from boat-steerer to junior officer, then to first mate, and finally to master; and then, having saved enough money to embark on a venture of his own, and believing that a fortune awaited him in the South Seas as a trader, he had bought the Bandolier, and sailed her out to Samoa. Here he purchased land from the natives for a trading station, and refitted the barque for her future voyages among the island groups. His wife, a young American girl, whom he had married in New London, Connecticut, six years before, had accompanied him with their little daughter; and whilst he was away in the Bandolier cruising through the New Hebrides and Solomon Islands, she remained in charge of the trading station. From the very first he had been fortunate, and at the end of two years he decided to take a cargo of coco-nut oil and other island produce to Sydney, sell it there, instead of disposing of it in Samoa, and invest the proceeds in a fresh supply of goods, which would practically give him a monopoly of the island trade from Samoa to the far-away Marshall Islands. But, as he expected to remain in Sydney for some months whilst the Bandolier underwent extensive repairs, he determined that his wife and child should accompany him. Then, as he thought it very likely he would be able to pick up for a low price in Sydney a small schooner of about a hundred tons, which he intended to use as a tender to the barque, he shipped ten extra native sailors--Tahitians, Savage Islanders, and Rotumahans--just the sort of men he wanted for the work in which the new vessel would be engaged.'We made a splendid run from Samoa till we were, as I thought, fifty or sixty miles north of Lord Howe's Island,' Casalle went on to say. 'Then the weather became squally and generally dirty, and at four o'clock on the afternoon of the following day I decided to heave-to for the night, not wishing to attempt to run by the island in the dark, my chronometer being unreliable. Just before sunset a big, full-rigged American timber ship, with her decks piled high with lumber, came racing up astern. Just as she was abreast of the Bandolier, the squall before which she and my own vessel had been running died away, and as we were within easy hailing distance I spoke her, and asked the captain for his approximate position. Much to my satisfaction, it agreed with mine within a mile or two, so I kept on, expecting to pass Lord Howe's Island about midnight. The American ship, which was keeping the same course, soon drew away from us when the next squall came, for the Bandolier was under short canvas.'About ten o'clock we were running before what appeared to be a steady breeze, although the sky was dull and starless. My wife and I were having a cup of coffee in the cabin, and little Nita was fast asleep, when, without a word of warning, the ship struck heavily. The moment I got on deck I saw that there was no hope of saving the ship, for her bows were jammed into a cleft of a reef, and she was tearing her bottom to pieces aft, for every sea lifted her, and she soon began to pound violently upon the rocks. The native crew worked well--we carried but two white seamen exclusive of my first and second mates--and we got two of the boats away safely, under the chief mate and boatswain, each one with a fair amount of provisions and water. Most unfortunately, my poor wife refused to leave the ship in either of these boats, declaring she would not leave till I did, in the third and last boat; she, however, permitted Mr. Brooker here--my chief mate--to take the little girl with him. Then the child's nurse--a young Samoan native girl--satisfied that her charge was in safety, begged to remain with her mistress. Poor Solepa, her affection cost her her life. Five minutes after we struck, the ship began to fill very rapidly, and I to fear that, before we could get clear of her in the third boat, she would swing round, slip off into deep water, and founder, for, although she was still bumping aft with every sea, she had worked free for'ard.'Despite the darkness, however, we managed to get the boat ready for lowering, the second mate and two native sailors jumping into her, so as to cast her clear of the falls, and bring her astern the moment she touched the water. This they succeeded in doing, and at that moment, and whilst the steward, a sailor, and myself, were standing by ready to lower my wife and the native girl into the boat, the ship gave a sudden heavy roll to starboard and crashed over on her bilge. Then a black wall of sea towered high over the buried rail, and fell upon us. What happened immediately after will never be known, for I was knocked almost senseless by the sea, which tore my wife from my arms, and then swept us all over the side together.[image]THE SHIP GAVE A SUDDEN ROLL AND CRASHED OVER HER BILGE.'When I came to, many hours later, I was lying in the mate's boat, and learnt from him that not only had my wife and those who stood with me on deck perished, but my young second mate and his two hands as well; for the same sea which carried us overboard, doubtless capsized the boat, then hanging on under the counter on the port side, and drowned them all. When morning broke we were about five miles off the southern end of Middleton Reef. A wild hope that some of them might yet be alive impelled me to head back for the reef itself, although I knew it was generally covered at high water. With the two boats we pulled right round it--nothing, nothing, Wallis, but the leap and roar of the thundering surf upon the coral barrier. As for the old Bandolier, she had slipped off into deep water and disappeared.'My own escape from death was marvellous. The waiting boats had, in the darkness, been actually carried over the reef through the surf into smooth water beyond; then they pulled out through a narrow passage on the lee side, and returned to the scene of the wreck to look for the third boat. Suddenly the mate's boat fouled the wreckage of the deckhouse, mixed up with some of the for'ard spars and canvas, and in getting clear of it I was discovered lying dead, as was thought, on the side of the house. Whether I was washed there, or managed to swim there, I cannot tell. One of the South Sea Islanders jumped overboard, got me clear, and swam with me to the boat. Then when daylight came ... as I have said ... we went back to the reef.'He ceased, for he could speak no longer, and Brooker, the rough American mate, with a soft, kindly light in his usually stern eyes, took up the tale.'And then, yew see, Mr. Wallis, we had nothing to do but to keep away for Australia. So I went into the small boat, and for about ten days we kept together; then one night it came on to blow mighty hard from the south'ard, and when daylight came the captain's boat was not in sight, and I hed nothin' else to do but keep right on. And now here we are all together again, and thet little Nita sleepin' as sound and happy as if there was no sich things as misery and death in the world.' Then he added savagely, 'I should just like to come across that galoot of a skipper who was the cause of it all. Why, mister, instead of our being where we thought we were, we were just running dead in for Middleton Reef. I guess he had a narrow shave himself, but, anyway, I hope to see the feller piled up somewhere before I quit sea-goin'.'Then the two men rose and retired to their rooms, leaving the squatter and his son to pace to and fro on the verandah and watch for daylight and Tom.And then when daylight came, and the sea mist lifted from the long, long line of curving beach, and Foster, glass in hand, joined his master to scan the yellow sand, and they saw naught to break its outlines but the whitening bones of a great fin-back whale, cast ashore a year before, the master of Kooringa Run turned to the old sailor with trouble in his eyes.'Foster, I fear something has gone wrong with the lad. Even if he had lost his horse, he should have turned up by now. He is too smart a boy to have let the fire head him off into the ranges. And yet where else can he be? Anyway, there is no time to lose. Jack, you and Wellington must saddle up at once, cross the river high up, and work down from the range till you come to the edge of the burnt country, then follow that right along to Kooringa Cape. I'll take Combo and Fly, and go along the beach between the bar and Misty Head. Most likely I'll meet him footing it home. But hurry, lad, hurry.'Before noon that day Jack and Wellington were searching the country at the foot of the ranges, and Mr. Wallis and his party were examining the beaches beyond Misty Cape.But never a trace of Tom could be found, though his horse came home next day. The heavy rain-squalls had obliterated any tracks made on the beach itself: and so when, after a week's steady search, in which all the surrounding settlers joined Tom's shirt and trousers were found lying buried in the sand, by the action of the sea, the heart-broken father bent his head in silence, and rode slowly home.And that night, as he and Jack sat with hands clasped together, looking out upon the wide expanse of the starlit ocean, and thinking of the face they would never see, and the voice they would never hear again, they heard poor Kate Gorman, who had just laid her little charge to sleep, step out into the darkened garden, and, crouching on the ground, wail out the sorrow her faithful heart could no longer suppress.Oh, Tom, Tom! the babby that was your mother's own darlin' an' mine, an' mine, an' mine!'Old Foster came softly over to her. 'Hush, Kate, hush! The master will hear you; don't make it harder for him than it is.'CHAPTER VITOM MEETS SOME STRANGERS ON WRECK REEFWhen the Lady Alicia, after bruising and pounding her noisy way over the sea for ten days, made Wreck Reef, and dropped anchor under the lee of the one little islet enclosed within the wide sweep of many lines of leaping surf, the ship's company were astonished to find the place occupied--a boat was drawn high up on the beach, and five ragged fellows were standing on the sand awaiting the landing of the people from the brig. As soon as Captain Hawkins set foot ashore, one of them, who appeared to be the leader, held out his hand, and in good English said he was glad to see him. He and his comrades, he said, were the only survivors of an Italian barque, the Generale Cialdini, which had run ashore on the coast of New Guinea, and after great hardships they had reached Wreck Reef some days before, and were now resting, on their way to the mainland of Australia.Old Sam eyed him critically for a moment or two, then said quietly--'You want water and provisions, I suppose?'The man nodded an eager assent; and indeed he and those with him presented a wretched appearance, for their faces and bodies showed traces of severe hardship.'Very well,' said Hawkins, 'I'll give you both if you'll come alongside. My boat's crew will lend you a hand to get your boat into the water again.' Then he drew the man aside a little, and added, 'And look here mister don't you spin me any more cuffers about that Italian barque and New Guinea. I know where you come from right well and as my ship is on Government service I ought to collar the lot of you and hand you over to the Sydney police but I don't want to be bothered with you and there's an end of it and what is more, I'll do what I can to help you'--here he grinned humorously--'I'll even give you a passage back to New Caledonia if you like. I am bound to Noumea.'The stranger started back, his leathern-hued visage paled, and such a despairing look came into his wild eyes, that old Sam was sorry for his jest.'There don't get scared I mean you no harm; but at the same time, for reasons of my own I don't want your company here. Have you any idea of what part of the coast of Australia you're going to?'A sigh of relief broke from the man, then he answered in perfect English--'I will not try to deceive you. We escaped from Noumea thirty-eight days ago, and reached this place a week since. I do not know what part of the coast to steer for. A year ago a party of ten prisoners escaped, and reached some place in Queensland safely; none of them were ever brought back to Noumea. And we are prepared for death--better to die of thirst on the ocean than live in such agony and despair.'The old man nodded, then mused. 'Look here food and water I would give you in any case but I'll tell you why I am so disposed to assist you. When I was coming up the coast I picked up a boy lying on the beach he was not able to tell me who he was or where he came from for two weeks and then it was too late for me to land him at any settlement. Now we want to send a letter to his father. Will you promise me to do your best to try and get that letter forwarded? I'm not playing any game on you you can see the boy and read the letter if you like when you come off to the ship.''I swear to you that I will act honestly,' answered the convict, who was trembling with excitement, 'I shall do my best. And now I, too, will be open. When I and my comrades saw your vessel early this morning, we planned to attempt to capture her if she anchored here, and had not too many men on board. We thought she might be only a small schooner, with not more than five or six men.''Thank you kindly mister. You've got the mug of a born pirate I must say. However I bear you no ill-will and I'll trust you with that letter. If you don't send it on you'll never have a day's luck in your life and be the two ends and bight of a lyin' swab into the bargain. Have you got a compass? No! Why didn't you steal one when you pirated the boat? Might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, sonny. Now there's your boat ready; follow me off to the ship but don't come aboard and I'll see that everything you want is passed down to you letter included and I'll give you a boat compass as well. All you've got to do is to steer due west till you sight the Great Barrier Reef which you ought to do to-morrow night; then run the reef down southerly till you come to the first opening--you will find plenty of boat passages--then once you are inside steer west again for Cape Manifold which you'll see thirty or forty miles away. Then follow the coast southerly again till you come to the settlement in Keppel Bay. If you don't like landing there you can go on to Port Curtis--there's a lot o' people there but I don't think they will trouble to ask you many questions. A new gold field has been discovered a little distance back from there. Like as not you'll find half a dozen vessels lying there without crews so if you don't care to go on to the gold fields you'll find you'll have no trouble in getting a ship to take you away. But mind don't forget about the letter.'The convict's eyes glistened with pleasure, and his face worked. 'I repeat that I will be true to the trust you are placing in me--I swear that this letter shall reach the person for whom it is intended. I am an escaped convict, and a few hours ago I was ready to turn pirate rather than be taken back to New Caledonia. Why I am what I am, I cannot now tell you, but I am not a criminal, that I swear to you--only a despairing and desperate man on the verge of madness, through unmerited suffering and wrong.'He spoke these last words with such a passion and emphasis, that old Sam was impressed.'Well there's many a wrong done. But you ain't a Frenchman are you?''No, I am an American, and a seaman. But five years in a chain gang have made me look as I look now.... Now, sir, I am ready to follow you. But before you go, will you let me take your hand? It will be something for me to remember. Come, sir, do not refuse me.'The old seaman held out his hand. 'There you are mister; if that will do you any good there it is.''It will, ithas, sir. I shall never see you again, but I shall never forget you. And some day it may be that you may hear the name of Henry Casalle spoken--Henry Casalle, sentenced to transportation for life for mutiny, and for the murder of the captain of the ship Amiral Jurien de la Graviere; and as God is my witness, sir, I am an innocent and unjustly condemned man.'Hawkins looked at him keenly. 'If you are lyin' to me, you ought to be struck dead in your tracks; but I don't believe you are. Now I'll get aboard, and get the boy to write that letter.'In ten minutes the energetic little man was on board the brig again, and giving Mr. Collier orders to get some provisions and water ready. Then he beckoned to Tom to come below.'Tom my son you've got a longish head for a person of your age being an infant in the eyes of the law. Now cock your ears and listen. Those fellers who are comin' off in that boat are escaped convicts from New Caledonia and I am giving them assistance to get to the mainland. The leader of 'em seems to be honest enough--or else he's a flamin' out-an'-out liar--and he's promised to see that your father gets a letter if you give him one. Now don't start askin' questions I believe the feller means to act all square and shipshape an' there's every chance of your father getting the letter in another month or two. I'm doing a disrespectful thing to the Government just on your account by aidin' and abettin'--no more an' no less under any circumstances. But I'll chance it anyway. So just you write.'So Tom, beaming with joy at the opportunity, set to work, with the skipper standing over him and dictating:--'Brig Lady Alicia: Wreck Reef,'Lat. 22° 10' 25" S., Long. 155° 30' E.'MY DEAR FATHER,'I was rescued by Captain Samuel Hawkins, of the brig Lady Alicia, bound to the above and New Caledonia, and wish to state I have received every comfort, she being on Government service and he desiring to present his respects to you in every possible manner whatsoever, and to inform you that for reasons not herein specified this letter may not reach you owing to extraneous and futile circumstances. The master of the said brig will use all and every promiscuous endeavour to forward me (the said Thomas Wallis) to Australia by Her Majesty's ship Virago from Noumea, should she as aforesaid be returning to Sydney previous to the aforesaid brig Lady Alicia, also to inform you that clothing and all such supernumaries shall be duly attended to on arrival at Noumea, where Captain Samuel Hawkins is duly respected.'Your affectionate Son,'THOMAS WALLIS.''That'll do, Tom, that'll do. Put it in an envelope and address it to your father, but don't close it, and be ready with it in ten minutes. Steward get a gallon of rum and five pounds of tobacco for these shipwrecked and distressed foreign seamen who are coming alongside and bring it on deck to me and ask Mr. Collier for that boat compass in his cabin.'Poor Tom, too dazed and muddled to know what he was doing, was just about to place his letter in the envelope, when the mate came below for the compass. He showed what he had written to Collier, who could not help laughing.'Write another, Tom, as quick as you can, and enclose it. Otherwise I'm afraid your poor father will think you have gone mad. Hurry up, Tom. Tell your father that you are well, and that you are writing very hurriedly, as a boat is waiting. And say that there is a chance of your being able to get back to Australia by the Virago some time within six months. Perhaps it will be as well to say nothing about these Frenchmen--your letter might be opened, and might lead to the poor wretches being captured by the Queensland police.'Tom set to work with renewed vigour, and contrived to convey to his father as nearly as possible all that had befallen him since that direful day on Misty Head. Then he went up on deck with the letter.The boat with the five 'shipwrecked and distressed foreign seamen' was lying alongside, and old Sam was bustling up and down the poop, puffing and grumbling about being delayed on Government service 'by a lot of blessed foreigners.'A large bag of biscuits, some tinned meats, and other provisions were being passed down into the boat, and Tom stared with astonishment when two of the sun-baked creatures thrust their hands into a sugar bag containing raw potatoes, and began to eat them with the greatest zest imaginable. Their leader stood quietly aft, holding the steer oar, looking straight before him, and giving mono-syllabic orders to his crew regarding the stowage of the water and provisions. Once only he looked up and caught sight of Tom, who was standing just above him, letter in hand; he pulled off his battered and blackened straw hat and bade him good day in low tones, then turned again to watch his comrades. Brief as was the glance which Tom had of the man's features, they seemed somehow to be familiar to him--to remind him of just such another type of face he had seen somewhere--the jet-black hair and eyebrows, and the deep-set and somewhat stern-looking eyes beneath. Where had he seen such a face before? Then he remembered--the captain of the Bandolier! Yes, the resemblance was most striking, although the man before him was not so tall, and his beard and moustache were short and stubbly. Tom was too interested, however, in the men generally to let his mind dwell on the peculiarity of the resemblance, and soon forgot all about it.As soon as the convicts had stowed the boat properly, the leader looked up at the master of the brig, and said in French, 'I am quite ready, sir.''Well, here's the letter--it's not closed, you see.''I do not wish to read it, sir,' said the convict, 'therefore I beg you to close it.''Oh, all right, just as you please. There, there it is. Now, is there anything else I can do for you? No? Well, good-bye. Let go that line there.'The boat's painter was cast off, the steersman flung her clear of the ship, the big lug sail was hoisted, and then, following the leader's example, the rest of the wild-looking creatures stood up, waved their hats and caps in farewell, and called out adieu. In ten minutes the boat was slipping out of the lagoon into the long sweep of the ocean swell, and then she was hauled up a point or two, and headed off westward.'Well, that's satisfactory,' said old Sam to the mate. 'It's a good job we didn't get here a week sooner, and provide these coveys with a brand new boat and gear worth three hundred pounds. Now let's get to work, Mr. Collier and get her over the side. Tom my bantam d'ye want to have a run ashore? There's any amount of crayfish out on the reef, and the water is full of whopping blue gropers. Ask William Henry to give you his fish-spear and you can prod it into one for our dinner.'Highly delighted, Tom fled along the deck, secured the spear from the Maori--who had taken a great liking to the boy--and was at once put ashore, where, his mind now free from anxiety to a certain extent, he revelled in the joys of chasing and spearing some splendid fish, for, as the captain had said, the shoal water inside the reef was literally swarming, not only with brilliant, blue-scaled gropers, but half a dozen other kinds of fish. In less than an hour he had secured enough to last the ship's company for a couple of days, and then burying them in the sand, to protect them from the sun till the boat returned, he started off to investigate some wreckage at the further end of the island. The history of these time-worn timbers had been told him by old Sam--they were the remains of the Porpoise and Cato, two Government vessels, lost there August 3, 1815, and on one of which the gallant and ill-fated Matthew Flinders was a passenger on his way to England, a third vessel, the transport Bridgewater, sailing away, and leaving them to their fate.In less than a week the shed was built, the boat safely housed, and a flagstaff erected, and then the little islet was left to its loneliness again, and the never-ceasing roar of the surf upon the network of reefs and shoals which surrounded it, and once more the old brig's bluff bows were dipping into the blue, as he braced up sharp for her long beat against the trade wind to New Caledonia.Thirteen days later she entered Noumea Harbour through the Dumbea Pass, and there awaiting her was her Majesty's paddle-wheel steamer Virago, Commander Bingham. As soon as possible the brig hauled alongside the warship, and the blue-jackets were at work on the coal, whilst old Sam, swelling with importance, and using the longest words he possibly could, was relating the story of Tom's rescue to the captain and first lieutenant; and presently Tom himself was sent for, and, dressed in a best suit of the mate's clothes, three sizes too large for him, he soon made his appearance. The captain and his officers treated him with much kindness, made him stay to lunch, and got him to tell his story over again. Offers of clothing were made to him on all sides, and a smile went all round when old Sam, who was sweltering in a heavy frock-coat, and wearing a brilliant green tie with a huge nugget of gold as a scarf-pin, begged them 'on no account whatsoever to trouble,' as he was going ashore with the young gentleman to buy him all that was needed, 'in order that he may be in a manner of speaking assimilated with the proper conditions of irrefutable society without regard to expense on my part, I being sure that his father will do the square thing with me.'After lunch the commander told the master of the brig that the Virago was not returning to Australia for another four or five months, when another ship would be sent to relieve her in her surveying work among the islands. 'I am sorry, Mr. Hawkins, that this is so. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to take your young friend to Sydney, but, as you see, you will be there long before we are. I trust that the letter he sent by those gentry you met at Wreck Reef will be delivered safely. Oh, and by the way, you need not, of necessity, when reporting that incident to the authorities here--er--er mention that you--er imagined these men were escaped prisoners.'Old Sam shut one eye. 'I've my log to show 'em. "Five men only survivors of Italian barque Generale Cialdini wrecked on coast of Noo Guinea, etsettery."'The officer smiled. 'I see, I see, Mr. Hawkins. But you have behaved very humanely--and wisely as well, in not letting them on board to mix with your crew; it might have led to some unpleasantness here with the authorities.'Early on the following morning the Cyclope, an ancient-looking corvette, arrived from Sydney with mails from France for the Governor and garrison, and the commander of the Virago went ashore to lunch with the captain at the Governor's house. When he returned, he sent for old Sam, and said--'Mr. Hawkins, I have something to tell you that will, I think, interest you. The Governor had for three months been expecting the arrival of a large vessel--a transport--with stores for the garrison and convicts. She was despatched from Saigon, in Cochin China, nearly six months ago, and now news has reached Sydney by an island trading vessel that a large French ship was reported by some natives to have been lost on the coast of New Britain, and all hands either drowned or murdered by the inhabitants of a large village there. The Governor fears that this is the missing transport, and is most anxious to ascertain the truth. He has, however, no vessel available for such a long voyage--the Cyclope cannot be spared, and there are but two very small schooners, neither of which is fit for such a task, especially as the crew of the transport may all be alive, and would have to be brought here. Now, he is most anxious to charter your brig to proceed to New Britain and search the coast. I told him I would send you to see him, so you had better go ashore at once. I should think you will find such a charter highly remunerative, and your knowledge of that part of the South Seas will be invaluable to you.'Old Sam, scenting a fat charter, was profuse in his thanks, and hurried off on shore, taking Mr. Collier with him as interpreter. Meanwhile the work of coaling the Virago went on vigorously, and by six in the evening the brig had hauled off from her side, and all hands were employed in cleaning and washing down.The little man was soon back, bustling with excitement, having practically come to terms with the Governor, and the brig was to begin taking in stores as quickly as possible. As the Virago was to leave soon after daylight, Tom went on board to say good-bye to the commander and his officers, and, much to his delight, the former presented him with a handsome double-barrelled gun, with ample ammunition; told him to write again to his father, and leave the matter with the Governor, in case the Cyclope might return to Sydney; said that old Sam was a thorough old gentleman, who would make a man and a sailor of him, and shaking the lad's hand warmly, bade him good-bye.For many hours that night Tom sat listening to the mate and captain discussing their future proceedings; then, unable to sleep, he went for'ard and woke up the Maori half-caste, and with him began fishing till dawn. Then, as the first rays of sunrise lit up the hills, the smoke began to pour from the Virago's yellow funnel, the boatswain's whistles piped shrill and clear in the morning air, the great paddle-wheels made a turn or two, and churned under the sponsons, the boats were hoisted in, and the tramp, tramp of the blue-jackets' bare feet sounded on the decks as the capstan was manned and the heavy cable came in, and then the old-fashioned war-vessel pointed her nose for Havannah Pass, and steamed slowly away for the New Hebrides.For the next few days every one on board the Lady Alicia was kept busy preparing her for sea. The Governor was sending an officer from the Cyclope to nominally command, but who was really to rely upon old Sam's judgment and advice in everything, until the survivors--if there were any--of the transport were found. If any seamen could have been spared from the Cyclope, some would have been sent, but old Sam energetically assured the Governor that they would not be needed. He, however, did not demur to taking on board thirty rifles and a plentiful supply of ammunition.Everything was ready at last, and then came the last day of the ship's stay in Noumea. The skipper had gone ashore to receive his final instructions, and Mr. Collier and the second mate were pacing the deck together, looking out for his boat, and whistling for a breeze to spring up, for a dead calm had prevailed since early dawn, and the day had become swelteringly hot, so hot that even the marine infantry sentries guarding the convicts working on the foreshore of the harbour were handling their rifles very gingerly, for the steel barrels were as hot to the touch as a burning coal, and the bare, treeless hills at the back of the newly-formed town seemed to quiver and tremble, and appeal for rain to slake their parched and sun-baked sides. Out in the harbour lay, covered with awnings fore and aft, the Cyclope, a hulking, wall-sided old French corvette, which had been stationed at Noumea ever since Tardy de Montravel founded the settlement, ten years before. Nearer inshore was a tiny French schooner, and between her and the warship was the Lady Alicia. For'ard, on the latter's deck, were Master Thomas Wallis and the black cook, the latter being engaged in instructing Tom how to polish a shark's backbone, and make it into a walking-stick fit for a gentleman of quality.Nearly five months had passed since Tom had first appeared on board the brig, and his always brown face was now browner still; and as he rubbed away at the shark bone his honest, grey eyes seemed full of content; and, indeed, he was happy enough. For now he was to have, he felt sure, further adventures.'De ole man's a mighty long time ashore,' said the coloured gentleman presently; 'I guess he ain't comin' aboard till he's shown these yere Frenchers the proper way to wear a stove-pipe hat an' long tail-coat. He's been an' gone an' took Maori Bill with him--"my servant," he calls him now; an' he's filled Bill's pockets with 'bout six pound o' tobacco cut up inter small chunks, an' Bill hez ter drop 'em along the road, so ez them poor convicts workin' on the chain gang can pick 'em up when dey sentries isn't lookin'.''It's very kind of him, Joe,' said Tom.The negro nodded. 'Oh yes; he's right 'nuff dat way, is de ole man. It's on'y when he gits usin' dem big high-class college words dat he makes himself contemptuous. Why, sometimes I hez to hold on tight to somethin', for fear he'll see me laughin', and start out on me. Hullo, dere he is comin' down to the jetty with the French officer, and dere's the blessed breeze comin' too.'Ten minutes later, Captain Hawkins, perspiring profusely in his shore-going garments, and accompanied by a pleasant-faced young naval officer dressed in white duck, stepped on deck, and in the most dignified and awe-inspiring manner asked Mr. Collier if he was 'prepared to heave up.''All ready, sir.''Thank you Mr. Collier. Then please get the hands to loose sails and man the windlass without delay. Mr. Collier this is Lieutenant de Cann of the Cyclope Mr. de Cann, Mr. Thomas Wallis will you step below, sir, and see if your cabin appurtenances and gear generally are concomitant with all and any natural expectations. One moment, Mr. Collier, before you start heavin' up, Mr. de Cann is doing me the honour to drink a bottle of Tennant with me, and I will thank you to join us. Tom my bantam lay aft here and wet your whistle.'Five minutes later he was in his sea togs stamping about on deck, and bawling and roaring out the most dreadful threats of violence to his crew, as a 'pack of fat lazy good-for-nothing swabs only fit to scrub paint work or clean out a stable instead of eatin' good vittels.'A boat was coming alongside from the warship with some of De Caen's fellow officers to wish their shipmate good-bye, and old Sam was determined to show them how he could do things.The French officer looked inquiringly at Tom as he heard the din overhead, and Tom laughed.'That is only his way, Mr. de Caen, and I really think the men don't mind it a bit. Mr. Collier says they like it, and that if the captain didn't bully them when he's getting the ship under way or shortening sail, they would be afraid he was becoming ill. Look, here's the steward come for a bottle of Hollands to "grease the windlass," and you'll find that as soon as we are clear of the port that Captain Hawkins will call all the men aft, make them a funny little speech about good conduct, and give them more Hollands.''Ah, I see, I see. I did hear from Captain Byng that your captain was very droll sometimes.''Boat from the Cyclope alongside, sir,' said Tarbucket, a native sailor, unceremoniously putting his head down through the skylight, and receiving at the same time a tremendous thwack on his back from old Sam's open hand for his want of manners.The Frenchmen jumped on deck, bade De Caen a hurried good-bye, and then descended into their boat again, as the old Lady Alicia, dipping her ensign to the Cyclope, began to slip through the water before the freshening breeze.
CHAPTER V
THE CAPTAIN OF THE BANDOLIER
Nearly two long months had passed since Tom had lit that fateful fire on Misty Head, and Mr. Wallis, his hair somewhat greyer, and his face more deeply lined, was sitting with the captain of the Bandolier upon the grassy side of the bluff overlooking the bar. Both were smoking, and watching the figures of Jack and the little girl, who were on the beach below, Jack fishing, and the child wandering to and fro, busied in picking up seaweed and shells, and running up every few minutes to show them to the lad. Away to the northward, the headlands showed grey and soft through the misty sea haze which floated about the shore, and as Mr. Wallis let his gaze rest upon them, he leant his face upon his hand, and sighed heavily.
'Wallis,' said the seaman presently, and speaking in a low voice, as he resumed the desultory conversation they had begun when they first sat down on the bluff to wait until Jack and little Nita returned to them, 'I want you to believe me when I say that there is not an hour of my life in which I do not feel that but for me this heavy blow would never have fallen on you.'
'Do not say that, Casalle. It was to be, and you do wrong to reproach yourself for the calamity with which it has pleased the Almighty to afflict me, and for which you are in no way responsible. And your sympathy has done much to help me. Heavy as is the sorrow which has come upon us both, we should yet reflect that we have no right to cry out in bitterness of spirit: for even though your wife was taken from you in that night of horror with awful suddenness, your little one was spared to comfort you; my boy was taken from me, but his brother is left. And as time goes on we shall begin to understand, Casalle, and even the dreadful manner of their deaths will in God's own time cease to be such an ever-present and heart-breaking reflection as it is to us now.'
The master of the Bandolier made no answer. He had not that hope which to some men is a source of such sublime strength, when all the sweetness and joy and sunshine of life is snatched suddenly away, and the whole world becomes dark to the aching heart. But although he made no response to his companion's fervid speech, he felt its truth, and envied him the possession of such a deep-seated fount of calm, unquestioning faith.
During the two months that had elapsed since he and his men had landed at Port Kooringa, a warm feeling of friendship had grown up between him and his host; and now that the time was drawing near for them to part--for he was to leave the quiet hospitable house under the bluff on the following day--he had tried to express his gratitude for the unceasing kindness and generosity which he, his child, and his officers and men had received at the hands of the owner of Kooringa Run.
Presently Wallis rose. 'Come, let us go down to Jack and Nita. They have forgotten our existence, I believe; Jack is too busy pulling in whiting and sea-bream to even turn his head to see where we are, and Nita won't leave him, you may be sure.'
Casalle laughed softly. 'Yes, they get on well together, don't they? I wonder how long it will be before I see her again,' he added wistfully.
'Not very long, I hope,' said the squatter, cheerfully, 'not long--for all our sakes. And, although I know what a wrench it will be for you to leave her, I am sure you are doing wisely in giving her to us until she is old enough to manage your house in Samoa, when you give up the sea altogether, and settle down a prosperous planter. And I do not think that you will be long absent from her at a time. I shall certainly expect to see you again in less than two years.'
The captain shook his head. 'I lost all I had in the world in the Bandolier, except her insurance. That will enable me to buy a small schooner to begin trading again; but I shall have to get long terms from the Sydney merchants for my trade goods. And I don't see how I am likely to see Kooringa again in two years--I'll have to make Samoa my headquarters for the next five, I fear.'
'My dear fellow,' said the squatter, 'you shall do no such thing--I mean that I am determined not to lose sight of you for five years. Make Samoa your headquarters if you will, but I might as well tell you now what I want you to do for me. I want you to let me be your banker. I am not a very wealthy man, but I can well spare four or five thousand pounds. And I have written to Sydney to have that sum placed to your credit in the Bank of Australasia. Look upon it, if you have luck in your trading ventures, as a loan; if, unfortunately, you should meet with further misfortune, consider it as a gift, given freely and with sincere pleasure by one friend to another. With this sum you can get at least one of the vessels you need, and have enough capital left to buy all the trade goods you require, and pay for them, instead of handicapping yourself by giving bills to the Sydney merchants. There is nothing more harassing and deterrent to a man's energies, than to know that his credit and reputation are in the hands of people thousands of miles away. Therefore, my dear Casalle, don't give a bill to any one. If you find that five thousand pounds will not pull you through, my agent in Sydney will come to your assistance.... There, there, don't say another word. 'Twould be "a moighty poor wurruld, indade," as Kate Gormon says, if we can't help one another. And then I don't want you to touch the Bandolier's insurance money. A thousand pounds is not much; leave it to accumulate for little Nita. Then again, as to your crew's wages, which you were intending to pay out of the insurance--that is all settled too.'
The seaman's eyes filled. 'Wallis, what can I say? How can I tell you what I feel? I never had a friend in my life till I met you. My father, who was a native of Funchal, was killed in a boat accident when I was a boy of ten. He was a rough Portuguese whaler, and after his death my mother was left in poverty, and died when I was away at sea, on my first voyage. My one brother, who was seven years older than me, also went to sea. I have never seen him since, but heard that long after he had passed as second mate, he returned to our native island, only to find that our mother was dead, and that I had gone. Until I met my wife, who was a native of the New England States, I led the wildest, the most dissolute----'
The master of Kooringa held up his hand. 'Never mind that, old man. There are not many--men such as you and I, wanderers on the face of the earth--who can show a clean sheet. Like you, I was sent out into the world when a mere boy; but I was less fortunate than you, for instead of a life of honourable hardship, I was led to look forward to--by my parents' influence--to one of ease. You, perhaps, were driven to dissipation when on shore, by the rough life of a whaleship's fo'c'sle. I led a dissipated and worthless existence, because I was cursed with ample funds, and but few of my many associates in India, during all the time I was in the Company's service, had any other thought but of leading a short life and a merry one, or else making as much money as possible and returning to England to live upon it. And like you, a good woman came to my rescue. Now, my dear fellow, let us say no more on this subject. Come, let us see what Jack has caught.'
Too overcome to find words to express his gratitude for such unlooked-for generosity from a man who, two months before, had been an utter stranger, the captain could only wring his companion's hand in silence.
In another day or two he would have to say good-bye to little Nita and the master of Kooringa; for the antiquated paddle-wheel coasting steamer William the Fourth, which called at Port Kooringa every three months, was then in harbour loading with hides and timber for Sydney, and he had taken passage by her. Brooker, the chief mate, and the whole of the crew, had preceded him some weeks by a sailing vessel, and were awaiting him in Sydney, for no one of them but wanted to sail with him again--and indeed the feeling that existed between captain and crew was something more like comradeship than aught else.
But here I am again, drifting away to leeward, and never a word about the Bandolier herself, and how she came to such mishap, and what happened between the time of that unlucky fire and now--when the two men and Nita and Jack are walking slowly home to spend their last night together in the old house which faced the restless bar.
* * * * *
When the missing boat had sailed past Misty Head at dawn on the day following the fire, Mr. Wallis had told the officer that they should reach the boat-harbour just below his house in another three or four hours; but misfortune overtook them. Twice was the boat, despite the officer's careful handling of her, filled with lumping seas and swamped, and in this dangerous situation furious rain-squalls burst upon them, and lasted almost without cessation for two hours. So darkness had set in ere they landed at the little boat-harbour, drenched and exhausted, and the first intimation Captain Casalle had of the safety of the missing men was by being awakened out of a deep slumber by his American mate, who was standing at his bedside wringing his hands. He was soon followed by Mr. Wallis, who congratulated the master of the Bandolier most warmly upon his escape, and then added a few words of sympathy for the loss of his wife--the mate already having given him some particulars of the disaster to the ship and the manner of the poor lady's death.
The moment he had entered the house, old Foster had told him of Tom's departure the previous day, and expressed some alarm when he found that his father had not seen him, and Mr. Wallis himself could not repress a feeling of anxiety. This he tried to put away, by thinking that the lad would be sure to turn up early on. the following morning. Many things, he knew, might have happened to delay Tom's return--primarily the fire, which might have caused him to make a wide detour, or else ride on hard to Kooringa Cape to avoid it; or perhaps--and this he thought very probable--the boy had had to take to the beach and wait till the fire burnt out before going on to the Cape. Nothing, however, could be done until morning, and in the morning they would be sure to see Tom safely back, none the worse for his adventure. He was a brave lad, and the bush and its ways were a second nature to him.
Late that night, as the father and son were talking over the exciting incidents of the previous day, the captain of the Bandolier tapped at the dining-room door and then entered, followed by his mate. In a moment Mr. Wallis was on his feet and making his visitors comfortable, whilst big red-haired Kate brought in liquor, cigars, and pipes. Then until long past midnight the three talked, and solemn-faced Jack listened with devouring interest to the full tale of the wreck of the Bandolier.
She was a barque of nearly four hundred tons, and Casalle's own vessel. He, from the time he was a lad of fifteen till he was nearly forty years of age, had sailed in American whaleships. From 'green hand' he had risen step by step from boat-steerer to junior officer, then to first mate, and finally to master; and then, having saved enough money to embark on a venture of his own, and believing that a fortune awaited him in the South Seas as a trader, he had bought the Bandolier, and sailed her out to Samoa. Here he purchased land from the natives for a trading station, and refitted the barque for her future voyages among the island groups. His wife, a young American girl, whom he had married in New London, Connecticut, six years before, had accompanied him with their little daughter; and whilst he was away in the Bandolier cruising through the New Hebrides and Solomon Islands, she remained in charge of the trading station. From the very first he had been fortunate, and at the end of two years he decided to take a cargo of coco-nut oil and other island produce to Sydney, sell it there, instead of disposing of it in Samoa, and invest the proceeds in a fresh supply of goods, which would practically give him a monopoly of the island trade from Samoa to the far-away Marshall Islands. But, as he expected to remain in Sydney for some months whilst the Bandolier underwent extensive repairs, he determined that his wife and child should accompany him. Then, as he thought it very likely he would be able to pick up for a low price in Sydney a small schooner of about a hundred tons, which he intended to use as a tender to the barque, he shipped ten extra native sailors--Tahitians, Savage Islanders, and Rotumahans--just the sort of men he wanted for the work in which the new vessel would be engaged.
'We made a splendid run from Samoa till we were, as I thought, fifty or sixty miles north of Lord Howe's Island,' Casalle went on to say. 'Then the weather became squally and generally dirty, and at four o'clock on the afternoon of the following day I decided to heave-to for the night, not wishing to attempt to run by the island in the dark, my chronometer being unreliable. Just before sunset a big, full-rigged American timber ship, with her decks piled high with lumber, came racing up astern. Just as she was abreast of the Bandolier, the squall before which she and my own vessel had been running died away, and as we were within easy hailing distance I spoke her, and asked the captain for his approximate position. Much to my satisfaction, it agreed with mine within a mile or two, so I kept on, expecting to pass Lord Howe's Island about midnight. The American ship, which was keeping the same course, soon drew away from us when the next squall came, for the Bandolier was under short canvas.
'About ten o'clock we were running before what appeared to be a steady breeze, although the sky was dull and starless. My wife and I were having a cup of coffee in the cabin, and little Nita was fast asleep, when, without a word of warning, the ship struck heavily. The moment I got on deck I saw that there was no hope of saving the ship, for her bows were jammed into a cleft of a reef, and she was tearing her bottom to pieces aft, for every sea lifted her, and she soon began to pound violently upon the rocks. The native crew worked well--we carried but two white seamen exclusive of my first and second mates--and we got two of the boats away safely, under the chief mate and boatswain, each one with a fair amount of provisions and water. Most unfortunately, my poor wife refused to leave the ship in either of these boats, declaring she would not leave till I did, in the third and last boat; she, however, permitted Mr. Brooker here--my chief mate--to take the little girl with him. Then the child's nurse--a young Samoan native girl--satisfied that her charge was in safety, begged to remain with her mistress. Poor Solepa, her affection cost her her life. Five minutes after we struck, the ship began to fill very rapidly, and I to fear that, before we could get clear of her in the third boat, she would swing round, slip off into deep water, and founder, for, although she was still bumping aft with every sea, she had worked free for'ard.
'Despite the darkness, however, we managed to get the boat ready for lowering, the second mate and two native sailors jumping into her, so as to cast her clear of the falls, and bring her astern the moment she touched the water. This they succeeded in doing, and at that moment, and whilst the steward, a sailor, and myself, were standing by ready to lower my wife and the native girl into the boat, the ship gave a sudden heavy roll to starboard and crashed over on her bilge. Then a black wall of sea towered high over the buried rail, and fell upon us. What happened immediately after will never be known, for I was knocked almost senseless by the sea, which tore my wife from my arms, and then swept us all over the side together.
[image]THE SHIP GAVE A SUDDEN ROLL AND CRASHED OVER HER BILGE.
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THE SHIP GAVE A SUDDEN ROLL AND CRASHED OVER HER BILGE.
'When I came to, many hours later, I was lying in the mate's boat, and learnt from him that not only had my wife and those who stood with me on deck perished, but my young second mate and his two hands as well; for the same sea which carried us overboard, doubtless capsized the boat, then hanging on under the counter on the port side, and drowned them all. When morning broke we were about five miles off the southern end of Middleton Reef. A wild hope that some of them might yet be alive impelled me to head back for the reef itself, although I knew it was generally covered at high water. With the two boats we pulled right round it--nothing, nothing, Wallis, but the leap and roar of the thundering surf upon the coral barrier. As for the old Bandolier, she had slipped off into deep water and disappeared.
'My own escape from death was marvellous. The waiting boats had, in the darkness, been actually carried over the reef through the surf into smooth water beyond; then they pulled out through a narrow passage on the lee side, and returned to the scene of the wreck to look for the third boat. Suddenly the mate's boat fouled the wreckage of the deckhouse, mixed up with some of the for'ard spars and canvas, and in getting clear of it I was discovered lying dead, as was thought, on the side of the house. Whether I was washed there, or managed to swim there, I cannot tell. One of the South Sea Islanders jumped overboard, got me clear, and swam with me to the boat. Then when daylight came ... as I have said ... we went back to the reef.'
He ceased, for he could speak no longer, and Brooker, the rough American mate, with a soft, kindly light in his usually stern eyes, took up the tale.
'And then, yew see, Mr. Wallis, we had nothing to do but to keep away for Australia. So I went into the small boat, and for about ten days we kept together; then one night it came on to blow mighty hard from the south'ard, and when daylight came the captain's boat was not in sight, and I hed nothin' else to do but keep right on. And now here we are all together again, and thet little Nita sleepin' as sound and happy as if there was no sich things as misery and death in the world.' Then he added savagely, 'I should just like to come across that galoot of a skipper who was the cause of it all. Why, mister, instead of our being where we thought we were, we were just running dead in for Middleton Reef. I guess he had a narrow shave himself, but, anyway, I hope to see the feller piled up somewhere before I quit sea-goin'.'
Then the two men rose and retired to their rooms, leaving the squatter and his son to pace to and fro on the verandah and watch for daylight and Tom.
And then when daylight came, and the sea mist lifted from the long, long line of curving beach, and Foster, glass in hand, joined his master to scan the yellow sand, and they saw naught to break its outlines but the whitening bones of a great fin-back whale, cast ashore a year before, the master of Kooringa Run turned to the old sailor with trouble in his eyes.
'Foster, I fear something has gone wrong with the lad. Even if he had lost his horse, he should have turned up by now. He is too smart a boy to have let the fire head him off into the ranges. And yet where else can he be? Anyway, there is no time to lose. Jack, you and Wellington must saddle up at once, cross the river high up, and work down from the range till you come to the edge of the burnt country, then follow that right along to Kooringa Cape. I'll take Combo and Fly, and go along the beach between the bar and Misty Head. Most likely I'll meet him footing it home. But hurry, lad, hurry.'
Before noon that day Jack and Wellington were searching the country at the foot of the ranges, and Mr. Wallis and his party were examining the beaches beyond Misty Cape.
But never a trace of Tom could be found, though his horse came home next day. The heavy rain-squalls had obliterated any tracks made on the beach itself: and so when, after a week's steady search, in which all the surrounding settlers joined Tom's shirt and trousers were found lying buried in the sand, by the action of the sea, the heart-broken father bent his head in silence, and rode slowly home.
And that night, as he and Jack sat with hands clasped together, looking out upon the wide expanse of the starlit ocean, and thinking of the face they would never see, and the voice they would never hear again, they heard poor Kate Gorman, who had just laid her little charge to sleep, step out into the darkened garden, and, crouching on the ground, wail out the sorrow her faithful heart could no longer suppress.
Oh, Tom, Tom! the babby that was your mother's own darlin' an' mine, an' mine, an' mine!'
Old Foster came softly over to her. 'Hush, Kate, hush! The master will hear you; don't make it harder for him than it is.'
CHAPTER VI
TOM MEETS SOME STRANGERS ON WRECK REEF
When the Lady Alicia, after bruising and pounding her noisy way over the sea for ten days, made Wreck Reef, and dropped anchor under the lee of the one little islet enclosed within the wide sweep of many lines of leaping surf, the ship's company were astonished to find the place occupied--a boat was drawn high up on the beach, and five ragged fellows were standing on the sand awaiting the landing of the people from the brig. As soon as Captain Hawkins set foot ashore, one of them, who appeared to be the leader, held out his hand, and in good English said he was glad to see him. He and his comrades, he said, were the only survivors of an Italian barque, the Generale Cialdini, which had run ashore on the coast of New Guinea, and after great hardships they had reached Wreck Reef some days before, and were now resting, on their way to the mainland of Australia.
Old Sam eyed him critically for a moment or two, then said quietly--
'You want water and provisions, I suppose?'
The man nodded an eager assent; and indeed he and those with him presented a wretched appearance, for their faces and bodies showed traces of severe hardship.
'Very well,' said Hawkins, 'I'll give you both if you'll come alongside. My boat's crew will lend you a hand to get your boat into the water again.' Then he drew the man aside a little, and added, 'And look here mister don't you spin me any more cuffers about that Italian barque and New Guinea. I know where you come from right well and as my ship is on Government service I ought to collar the lot of you and hand you over to the Sydney police but I don't want to be bothered with you and there's an end of it and what is more, I'll do what I can to help you'--here he grinned humorously--'I'll even give you a passage back to New Caledonia if you like. I am bound to Noumea.'
The stranger started back, his leathern-hued visage paled, and such a despairing look came into his wild eyes, that old Sam was sorry for his jest.
'There don't get scared I mean you no harm; but at the same time, for reasons of my own I don't want your company here. Have you any idea of what part of the coast of Australia you're going to?'
A sigh of relief broke from the man, then he answered in perfect English--
'I will not try to deceive you. We escaped from Noumea thirty-eight days ago, and reached this place a week since. I do not know what part of the coast to steer for. A year ago a party of ten prisoners escaped, and reached some place in Queensland safely; none of them were ever brought back to Noumea. And we are prepared for death--better to die of thirst on the ocean than live in such agony and despair.'
The old man nodded, then mused. 'Look here food and water I would give you in any case but I'll tell you why I am so disposed to assist you. When I was coming up the coast I picked up a boy lying on the beach he was not able to tell me who he was or where he came from for two weeks and then it was too late for me to land him at any settlement. Now we want to send a letter to his father. Will you promise me to do your best to try and get that letter forwarded? I'm not playing any game on you you can see the boy and read the letter if you like when you come off to the ship.'
'I swear to you that I will act honestly,' answered the convict, who was trembling with excitement, 'I shall do my best. And now I, too, will be open. When I and my comrades saw your vessel early this morning, we planned to attempt to capture her if she anchored here, and had not too many men on board. We thought she might be only a small schooner, with not more than five or six men.'
'Thank you kindly mister. You've got the mug of a born pirate I must say. However I bear you no ill-will and I'll trust you with that letter. If you don't send it on you'll never have a day's luck in your life and be the two ends and bight of a lyin' swab into the bargain. Have you got a compass? No! Why didn't you steal one when you pirated the boat? Might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, sonny. Now there's your boat ready; follow me off to the ship but don't come aboard and I'll see that everything you want is passed down to you letter included and I'll give you a boat compass as well. All you've got to do is to steer due west till you sight the Great Barrier Reef which you ought to do to-morrow night; then run the reef down southerly till you come to the first opening--you will find plenty of boat passages--then once you are inside steer west again for Cape Manifold which you'll see thirty or forty miles away. Then follow the coast southerly again till you come to the settlement in Keppel Bay. If you don't like landing there you can go on to Port Curtis--there's a lot o' people there but I don't think they will trouble to ask you many questions. A new gold field has been discovered a little distance back from there. Like as not you'll find half a dozen vessels lying there without crews so if you don't care to go on to the gold fields you'll find you'll have no trouble in getting a ship to take you away. But mind don't forget about the letter.'
The convict's eyes glistened with pleasure, and his face worked. 'I repeat that I will be true to the trust you are placing in me--I swear that this letter shall reach the person for whom it is intended. I am an escaped convict, and a few hours ago I was ready to turn pirate rather than be taken back to New Caledonia. Why I am what I am, I cannot now tell you, but I am not a criminal, that I swear to you--only a despairing and desperate man on the verge of madness, through unmerited suffering and wrong.'
He spoke these last words with such a passion and emphasis, that old Sam was impressed.
'Well there's many a wrong done. But you ain't a Frenchman are you?'
'No, I am an American, and a seaman. But five years in a chain gang have made me look as I look now.... Now, sir, I am ready to follow you. But before you go, will you let me take your hand? It will be something for me to remember. Come, sir, do not refuse me.'
The old seaman held out his hand. 'There you are mister; if that will do you any good there it is.'
'It will, ithas, sir. I shall never see you again, but I shall never forget you. And some day it may be that you may hear the name of Henry Casalle spoken--Henry Casalle, sentenced to transportation for life for mutiny, and for the murder of the captain of the ship Amiral Jurien de la Graviere; and as God is my witness, sir, I am an innocent and unjustly condemned man.'
Hawkins looked at him keenly. 'If you are lyin' to me, you ought to be struck dead in your tracks; but I don't believe you are. Now I'll get aboard, and get the boy to write that letter.'
In ten minutes the energetic little man was on board the brig again, and giving Mr. Collier orders to get some provisions and water ready. Then he beckoned to Tom to come below.
'Tom my son you've got a longish head for a person of your age being an infant in the eyes of the law. Now cock your ears and listen. Those fellers who are comin' off in that boat are escaped convicts from New Caledonia and I am giving them assistance to get to the mainland. The leader of 'em seems to be honest enough--or else he's a flamin' out-an'-out liar--and he's promised to see that your father gets a letter if you give him one. Now don't start askin' questions I believe the feller means to act all square and shipshape an' there's every chance of your father getting the letter in another month or two. I'm doing a disrespectful thing to the Government just on your account by aidin' and abettin'--no more an' no less under any circumstances. But I'll chance it anyway. So just you write.'
So Tom, beaming with joy at the opportunity, set to work, with the skipper standing over him and dictating:--
'Brig Lady Alicia: Wreck Reef,'Lat. 22° 10' 25" S., Long. 155° 30' E.
'MY DEAR FATHER,
'I was rescued by Captain Samuel Hawkins, of the brig Lady Alicia, bound to the above and New Caledonia, and wish to state I have received every comfort, she being on Government service and he desiring to present his respects to you in every possible manner whatsoever, and to inform you that for reasons not herein specified this letter may not reach you owing to extraneous and futile circumstances. The master of the said brig will use all and every promiscuous endeavour to forward me (the said Thomas Wallis) to Australia by Her Majesty's ship Virago from Noumea, should she as aforesaid be returning to Sydney previous to the aforesaid brig Lady Alicia, also to inform you that clothing and all such supernumaries shall be duly attended to on arrival at Noumea, where Captain Samuel Hawkins is duly respected.
'THOMAS WALLIS.'
'That'll do, Tom, that'll do. Put it in an envelope and address it to your father, but don't close it, and be ready with it in ten minutes. Steward get a gallon of rum and five pounds of tobacco for these shipwrecked and distressed foreign seamen who are coming alongside and bring it on deck to me and ask Mr. Collier for that boat compass in his cabin.'
Poor Tom, too dazed and muddled to know what he was doing, was just about to place his letter in the envelope, when the mate came below for the compass. He showed what he had written to Collier, who could not help laughing.
'Write another, Tom, as quick as you can, and enclose it. Otherwise I'm afraid your poor father will think you have gone mad. Hurry up, Tom. Tell your father that you are well, and that you are writing very hurriedly, as a boat is waiting. And say that there is a chance of your being able to get back to Australia by the Virago some time within six months. Perhaps it will be as well to say nothing about these Frenchmen--your letter might be opened, and might lead to the poor wretches being captured by the Queensland police.'
Tom set to work with renewed vigour, and contrived to convey to his father as nearly as possible all that had befallen him since that direful day on Misty Head. Then he went up on deck with the letter.
The boat with the five 'shipwrecked and distressed foreign seamen' was lying alongside, and old Sam was bustling up and down the poop, puffing and grumbling about being delayed on Government service 'by a lot of blessed foreigners.'
A large bag of biscuits, some tinned meats, and other provisions were being passed down into the boat, and Tom stared with astonishment when two of the sun-baked creatures thrust their hands into a sugar bag containing raw potatoes, and began to eat them with the greatest zest imaginable. Their leader stood quietly aft, holding the steer oar, looking straight before him, and giving mono-syllabic orders to his crew regarding the stowage of the water and provisions. Once only he looked up and caught sight of Tom, who was standing just above him, letter in hand; he pulled off his battered and blackened straw hat and bade him good day in low tones, then turned again to watch his comrades. Brief as was the glance which Tom had of the man's features, they seemed somehow to be familiar to him--to remind him of just such another type of face he had seen somewhere--the jet-black hair and eyebrows, and the deep-set and somewhat stern-looking eyes beneath. Where had he seen such a face before? Then he remembered--the captain of the Bandolier! Yes, the resemblance was most striking, although the man before him was not so tall, and his beard and moustache were short and stubbly. Tom was too interested, however, in the men generally to let his mind dwell on the peculiarity of the resemblance, and soon forgot all about it.
As soon as the convicts had stowed the boat properly, the leader looked up at the master of the brig, and said in French, 'I am quite ready, sir.'
'Well, here's the letter--it's not closed, you see.'
'I do not wish to read it, sir,' said the convict, 'therefore I beg you to close it.'
'Oh, all right, just as you please. There, there it is. Now, is there anything else I can do for you? No? Well, good-bye. Let go that line there.'
The boat's painter was cast off, the steersman flung her clear of the ship, the big lug sail was hoisted, and then, following the leader's example, the rest of the wild-looking creatures stood up, waved their hats and caps in farewell, and called out adieu. In ten minutes the boat was slipping out of the lagoon into the long sweep of the ocean swell, and then she was hauled up a point or two, and headed off westward.
'Well, that's satisfactory,' said old Sam to the mate. 'It's a good job we didn't get here a week sooner, and provide these coveys with a brand new boat and gear worth three hundred pounds. Now let's get to work, Mr. Collier and get her over the side. Tom my bantam d'ye want to have a run ashore? There's any amount of crayfish out on the reef, and the water is full of whopping blue gropers. Ask William Henry to give you his fish-spear and you can prod it into one for our dinner.'
Highly delighted, Tom fled along the deck, secured the spear from the Maori--who had taken a great liking to the boy--and was at once put ashore, where, his mind now free from anxiety to a certain extent, he revelled in the joys of chasing and spearing some splendid fish, for, as the captain had said, the shoal water inside the reef was literally swarming, not only with brilliant, blue-scaled gropers, but half a dozen other kinds of fish. In less than an hour he had secured enough to last the ship's company for a couple of days, and then burying them in the sand, to protect them from the sun till the boat returned, he started off to investigate some wreckage at the further end of the island. The history of these time-worn timbers had been told him by old Sam--they were the remains of the Porpoise and Cato, two Government vessels, lost there August 3, 1815, and on one of which the gallant and ill-fated Matthew Flinders was a passenger on his way to England, a third vessel, the transport Bridgewater, sailing away, and leaving them to their fate.
In less than a week the shed was built, the boat safely housed, and a flagstaff erected, and then the little islet was left to its loneliness again, and the never-ceasing roar of the surf upon the network of reefs and shoals which surrounded it, and once more the old brig's bluff bows were dipping into the blue, as he braced up sharp for her long beat against the trade wind to New Caledonia.
Thirteen days later she entered Noumea Harbour through the Dumbea Pass, and there awaiting her was her Majesty's paddle-wheel steamer Virago, Commander Bingham. As soon as possible the brig hauled alongside the warship, and the blue-jackets were at work on the coal, whilst old Sam, swelling with importance, and using the longest words he possibly could, was relating the story of Tom's rescue to the captain and first lieutenant; and presently Tom himself was sent for, and, dressed in a best suit of the mate's clothes, three sizes too large for him, he soon made his appearance. The captain and his officers treated him with much kindness, made him stay to lunch, and got him to tell his story over again. Offers of clothing were made to him on all sides, and a smile went all round when old Sam, who was sweltering in a heavy frock-coat, and wearing a brilliant green tie with a huge nugget of gold as a scarf-pin, begged them 'on no account whatsoever to trouble,' as he was going ashore with the young gentleman to buy him all that was needed, 'in order that he may be in a manner of speaking assimilated with the proper conditions of irrefutable society without regard to expense on my part, I being sure that his father will do the square thing with me.'
After lunch the commander told the master of the brig that the Virago was not returning to Australia for another four or five months, when another ship would be sent to relieve her in her surveying work among the islands. 'I am sorry, Mr. Hawkins, that this is so. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to take your young friend to Sydney, but, as you see, you will be there long before we are. I trust that the letter he sent by those gentry you met at Wreck Reef will be delivered safely. Oh, and by the way, you need not, of necessity, when reporting that incident to the authorities here--er--er mention that you--er imagined these men were escaped prisoners.'
Old Sam shut one eye. 'I've my log to show 'em. "Five men only survivors of Italian barque Generale Cialdini wrecked on coast of Noo Guinea, etsettery."'
The officer smiled. 'I see, I see, Mr. Hawkins. But you have behaved very humanely--and wisely as well, in not letting them on board to mix with your crew; it might have led to some unpleasantness here with the authorities.'
Early on the following morning the Cyclope, an ancient-looking corvette, arrived from Sydney with mails from France for the Governor and garrison, and the commander of the Virago went ashore to lunch with the captain at the Governor's house. When he returned, he sent for old Sam, and said--
'Mr. Hawkins, I have something to tell you that will, I think, interest you. The Governor had for three months been expecting the arrival of a large vessel--a transport--with stores for the garrison and convicts. She was despatched from Saigon, in Cochin China, nearly six months ago, and now news has reached Sydney by an island trading vessel that a large French ship was reported by some natives to have been lost on the coast of New Britain, and all hands either drowned or murdered by the inhabitants of a large village there. The Governor fears that this is the missing transport, and is most anxious to ascertain the truth. He has, however, no vessel available for such a long voyage--the Cyclope cannot be spared, and there are but two very small schooners, neither of which is fit for such a task, especially as the crew of the transport may all be alive, and would have to be brought here. Now, he is most anxious to charter your brig to proceed to New Britain and search the coast. I told him I would send you to see him, so you had better go ashore at once. I should think you will find such a charter highly remunerative, and your knowledge of that part of the South Seas will be invaluable to you.'
Old Sam, scenting a fat charter, was profuse in his thanks, and hurried off on shore, taking Mr. Collier with him as interpreter. Meanwhile the work of coaling the Virago went on vigorously, and by six in the evening the brig had hauled off from her side, and all hands were employed in cleaning and washing down.
The little man was soon back, bustling with excitement, having practically come to terms with the Governor, and the brig was to begin taking in stores as quickly as possible. As the Virago was to leave soon after daylight, Tom went on board to say good-bye to the commander and his officers, and, much to his delight, the former presented him with a handsome double-barrelled gun, with ample ammunition; told him to write again to his father, and leave the matter with the Governor, in case the Cyclope might return to Sydney; said that old Sam was a thorough old gentleman, who would make a man and a sailor of him, and shaking the lad's hand warmly, bade him good-bye.
For many hours that night Tom sat listening to the mate and captain discussing their future proceedings; then, unable to sleep, he went for'ard and woke up the Maori half-caste, and with him began fishing till dawn. Then, as the first rays of sunrise lit up the hills, the smoke began to pour from the Virago's yellow funnel, the boatswain's whistles piped shrill and clear in the morning air, the great paddle-wheels made a turn or two, and churned under the sponsons, the boats were hoisted in, and the tramp, tramp of the blue-jackets' bare feet sounded on the decks as the capstan was manned and the heavy cable came in, and then the old-fashioned war-vessel pointed her nose for Havannah Pass, and steamed slowly away for the New Hebrides.
For the next few days every one on board the Lady Alicia was kept busy preparing her for sea. The Governor was sending an officer from the Cyclope to nominally command, but who was really to rely upon old Sam's judgment and advice in everything, until the survivors--if there were any--of the transport were found. If any seamen could have been spared from the Cyclope, some would have been sent, but old Sam energetically assured the Governor that they would not be needed. He, however, did not demur to taking on board thirty rifles and a plentiful supply of ammunition.
Everything was ready at last, and then came the last day of the ship's stay in Noumea. The skipper had gone ashore to receive his final instructions, and Mr. Collier and the second mate were pacing the deck together, looking out for his boat, and whistling for a breeze to spring up, for a dead calm had prevailed since early dawn, and the day had become swelteringly hot, so hot that even the marine infantry sentries guarding the convicts working on the foreshore of the harbour were handling their rifles very gingerly, for the steel barrels were as hot to the touch as a burning coal, and the bare, treeless hills at the back of the newly-formed town seemed to quiver and tremble, and appeal for rain to slake their parched and sun-baked sides. Out in the harbour lay, covered with awnings fore and aft, the Cyclope, a hulking, wall-sided old French corvette, which had been stationed at Noumea ever since Tardy de Montravel founded the settlement, ten years before. Nearer inshore was a tiny French schooner, and between her and the warship was the Lady Alicia. For'ard, on the latter's deck, were Master Thomas Wallis and the black cook, the latter being engaged in instructing Tom how to polish a shark's backbone, and make it into a walking-stick fit for a gentleman of quality.
Nearly five months had passed since Tom had first appeared on board the brig, and his always brown face was now browner still; and as he rubbed away at the shark bone his honest, grey eyes seemed full of content; and, indeed, he was happy enough. For now he was to have, he felt sure, further adventures.
'De ole man's a mighty long time ashore,' said the coloured gentleman presently; 'I guess he ain't comin' aboard till he's shown these yere Frenchers the proper way to wear a stove-pipe hat an' long tail-coat. He's been an' gone an' took Maori Bill with him--"my servant," he calls him now; an' he's filled Bill's pockets with 'bout six pound o' tobacco cut up inter small chunks, an' Bill hez ter drop 'em along the road, so ez them poor convicts workin' on the chain gang can pick 'em up when dey sentries isn't lookin'.'
'It's very kind of him, Joe,' said Tom.
The negro nodded. 'Oh yes; he's right 'nuff dat way, is de ole man. It's on'y when he gits usin' dem big high-class college words dat he makes himself contemptuous. Why, sometimes I hez to hold on tight to somethin', for fear he'll see me laughin', and start out on me. Hullo, dere he is comin' down to the jetty with the French officer, and dere's the blessed breeze comin' too.'
Ten minutes later, Captain Hawkins, perspiring profusely in his shore-going garments, and accompanied by a pleasant-faced young naval officer dressed in white duck, stepped on deck, and in the most dignified and awe-inspiring manner asked Mr. Collier if he was 'prepared to heave up.'
'All ready, sir.'
'Thank you Mr. Collier. Then please get the hands to loose sails and man the windlass without delay. Mr. Collier this is Lieutenant de Cann of the Cyclope Mr. de Cann, Mr. Thomas Wallis will you step below, sir, and see if your cabin appurtenances and gear generally are concomitant with all and any natural expectations. One moment, Mr. Collier, before you start heavin' up, Mr. de Cann is doing me the honour to drink a bottle of Tennant with me, and I will thank you to join us. Tom my bantam lay aft here and wet your whistle.'
Five minutes later he was in his sea togs stamping about on deck, and bawling and roaring out the most dreadful threats of violence to his crew, as a 'pack of fat lazy good-for-nothing swabs only fit to scrub paint work or clean out a stable instead of eatin' good vittels.'
A boat was coming alongside from the warship with some of De Caen's fellow officers to wish their shipmate good-bye, and old Sam was determined to show them how he could do things.
The French officer looked inquiringly at Tom as he heard the din overhead, and Tom laughed.
'That is only his way, Mr. de Caen, and I really think the men don't mind it a bit. Mr. Collier says they like it, and that if the captain didn't bully them when he's getting the ship under way or shortening sail, they would be afraid he was becoming ill. Look, here's the steward come for a bottle of Hollands to "grease the windlass," and you'll find that as soon as we are clear of the port that Captain Hawkins will call all the men aft, make them a funny little speech about good conduct, and give them more Hollands.'
'Ah, I see, I see. I did hear from Captain Byng that your captain was very droll sometimes.'
'Boat from the Cyclope alongside, sir,' said Tarbucket, a native sailor, unceremoniously putting his head down through the skylight, and receiving at the same time a tremendous thwack on his back from old Sam's open hand for his want of manners.
The Frenchmen jumped on deck, bade De Caen a hurried good-bye, and then descended into their boat again, as the old Lady Alicia, dipping her ensign to the Cyclope, began to slip through the water before the freshening breeze.