Chapter Fifty Two.
Help at a Pinch.
Captain Obadiah P. Perks came back at the end of an hour, when I had pretty well ripened my plans, and, retiring within the house, I left Tom to deal with him.
A tall, dark Spaniard was the captain’s companion, and he might have been an official or an impostor in the skipper’s pay. It was impossible to judge, though he wore something purporting to be a uniform.
“Wal, mister,” the skipper said to Tom, “where’s your young boss?”
“Busy,” said Tom, blocking the doorway and coolly smoking his pipe.
“Then just you go and tell him that Kyaptin ’Badiah P. Perks is here with a gentleman who’ll overhaul that stack o’ chesties, and say whether I can take ’em board o’ my schooner without getting into trouble.”
“Oh! Mas’r Harry won’t get you into no trouble, cap’en,” said Tom, “nor he won’t give you no trouble. He’s altered his mind and won’t go.”
“Oh, no, he haven’t,” said the skipper. “Just you go and say Kyaptin ’Badiah P. Perks is here and wants to see him tew wunst.”
For answer Tom drew a long breath and puffed out a cloud of smoke at the skipper.
“Air yew a-going?” said the latter.
“No,” said Tom, “I air not. My young master don’t want you, nor your ship, nor anything else. You wouldn’t take the job when you could get it, so now it’s gone.”
The Yankee skipper turned of a warmer yellow, and there was a malignant gleam in his closely-set eyes as he thrust one hand into his pocket and drew it out directly.
“Here, I don’t want to quarrel along o’ you,” he said sharply. “Go and tell him I want him, and he must come.”
“Sha’n’t,” said Tom coolly. “Who are you ordering about? This here ain’t aboard ship.”
“It would be okkard fur yew, boy, if it weer board ship,” snarled the skipper, going close up and thrusting his ugly face almost in Tom’s. “Yew just do as I tell yew, my lad, ’fore it’s worse for yew. Guess I don’t want to quarrel.”
“And guess I don’t want to quarrel with you,” said Tom; “though I allus have felt as if I should like to whack a sailor.”
The man’s hand went to his pocket again, but in spite of his furious glances Tom did not for a moment quail, giving him back again look for look.
“Guess it ’ll be the worse for yew, stranger,” said the skipper, “if you don’t go and fetch out that theer fellow o’ yourn.”
“Guess it ’ll be the worse for you, skipper, if you get shoving that sharp nose o’ yours in my face,” said Tom. “You ain’t skretched me with it yet, but if you do, ware hawk!”
The man’s face was a study. He wanted evidently to seize Tom and thrust him aside, but there was something so solid and muscular about Tom’s body, and something so hard and bull-like about Tom’s head, that few people would have cared to tackle him; and certainly, seeing how determined he was, the skipper did not feel disposed.
“Here, hi! you Englisher,” shouted the fellow, “come out. I want a word with you.”
“I say, don’t make that row front of our house,” said Tom. “There’s ladies here; and if you do it again I shall have to do what they does at home with noisy people—move you on.”
The skipper made a menacing movement towards Tom, and I was ready to go to his assistance, but Tom did not stir, only clenched his hand slowly in so ominous a manner that the skipper went no farther, but turned and advanced to his companion, before again approaching my faithful companion.
“Now, look ye here, mister,” said the skipper. “I don’t want to hurt you, so just you either get out o’ the way or fetch your boss.”
“If you don’t get out,” said Tom slowly, “I shall have to make you. Mas’r Harry don’t want no trade with you at all, so s’pose you be off while your shoes are good.”
“I will be off,” said the skipper with a snarl, “and bring them here as will open some of your eyes a bit, and them chesties too.”
Then saying something in a whisper to his companion they both hurried off, and for the rest of the day, in spite of the aspect I carried before those in the house, I was in no little trepidation.
Late in the afternoon, when we had been expecting a call every moment from some one in authority, and Tom had been waiting ready to run off at the first attack to the British vice-consul, a quiet, firm-looking, sailor-like man came up to where I was standing.
“Are you the Englishman who wants to go with his family to Kingston?”
“Yes,” I said, looking at him earnestly, for I was wondering whether it was a trap laid by the Yankee skipper.
“I just heard of it down at the wharf,” he said. “I’ll take you, only I sail to-night.”
I was going to exclaim, “That’s just what I want!” but restrained myself, and said quietly, “That’s a very short notice.”
“Well, ’tis, sir; but I’m all laden, and time’s money. If you can be ready I’ll take you, and be glad to earn the passage money, and do the best I can to make you and the ladies comfortable, but if you can’t I must lose the job.”
“We will be ready, then,” I said; “only I have these heavy chests to go.”
“Oh, they’re nothing,” said the skipper good-humouredly. “I’ll bring the boat up abreast here, and four o’ my lads. We’ll soon have them in.”
We soon settled about terms, which were reasonable enough, and promising to be there with the boat in an hour, the man left.
“Well, Tom, what is it?” I said excitedly. “A trap or honesty?”
“Honesty, Mas’r Harry,” he cried sharply. “That chap’s straight-forrard enough.”
“So I think,” I cried, “and we’ll risk it. To-morrow we may be stopped.”
My aunt and Lilla were almost startled at the suddenness of the proposed departure, and my uncle looked anxious; but they said nothing, only made their final preparations, and soon after dark the fresh skipper came up with half a dozen men.
“I thought I’d bring enough,” he said. “Now, my lads, be smart. Chest apiece, they ain’t big.”
It was all so sudden that my breath was almost taken away; but I had said that I would risk it, and there was nothing else to do but go on. In the darkness, too, it was hard to tell whether our property was all being fairly dealt with, but I watched as keenly as I could, and Tom went down to the boat with the first men, my uncle taking charge of Lilla and my aunt, while I stopped back at the house and sent all the luggage off.
It was pitchy dark now, and matters were carried out with a rapidity that was startling. In fact, in a quarter of an hour everything was on board the heavy boat, the men in their places, my aunt, Lilla, and my uncle in the stern sheets, and Tom and I were about to step in when Lilla exclaimed:
“Oh, Harry! I’ve left the great cloak in my room!”
I was about to exclaim “Never mind,” and, in my excitement to get clear, order the men to push off, but it was Lilla’s wish, and without a word I started back to fetch the cloak.
It was the most painful passage I ever had in my life. It was only minutes but it seemed hours, and with my heart beating furiously, I tried to crush down the fancies that kept coming into my head.
“Suppose,” I thought, “that man is in the American skipper’s pay, and that, now they have possession of my treasure, they should carry it off, and I should never see it more.” I knew that I might go back and find the boat gone, pursuit would be vain in the darkness; and so tortured was I as I reached the house we had left, that I turned instead of going in, and stepped back to run down again to the boat.
That bit of indecision saved me, for just at my elbow a voice I recognised said:
“Now then, four o’ you just go round to the back and stop whoever comes out. Two watch the windows, and we’ll go in. I guess it’ll make the Englisher star’.”
The Englisher did stare as he tried to gaze through the darkness, and then, feeling satisfied that the new skipper had nothing to do with the American, I stepped softly back, trembling with eagerness and excitement, and made my way down to the boat.
“All right,” I said in as composed a manner as I could, and jumping in we were soon after being rowed softly down the river, past great vessel after vessel, all showing their mooring lights, till, wondering the while what sort of ship we were to have for our passage, we came at last alongside a large schooner, and were soon after safe aboard, treasure and all, of what proved to be a very good swift vessel.
In the morning when the sun rose we were going rapidly down towards the mouth of the great river, but it was not until we were well out at sea that I felt safe from pursuit, and told my uncle of our narrow escape.
“But I have not been able to find the great cloak, Harry,” said Lilla.
“No,” I replied; “it was a question whether I should leave the cloak or myself, so I left the cloak,” and then I told her of my adventure in the dark.