Chapter Seventeen.
The Recapture of the Barque.
Under the soothing influence of her brother-in-law’s admirable manner, Miss Merrivale soon recovered her wonted serenity of manner; while Lady Emily seemed never to have lost hers, so absolute was her trust and confidence in her husband, and his power to strengthen and reassure her. In less than half an hour, therefore, after the departure of the boat we were all sitting in a circle upon the sandy beach of the basin, regaling ourselves upon some of the fruit that the ladies had gathered earlier in the day, and discussing, meanwhile, the possibilities of our situation.
Notwithstanding the brutally callous behaviour of Rogers, I still hoped, and Sir Edgar fully believed, that a majority of the men on board would be sufficiently swayed by motives of humanity to insist upon bringing us ashore our clothing, and at least a few of the more obvious necessities of life, such as a spare sail, a coil or two of line, a few nails, a hammer, a saw, a trifle of crockery, some cooking utensils, and, above all, our fowling-pieces and some ammunition. Miss Merrivale, however, was positive that they would not; and as the time dragged slowly by without any sign of the reappearance of the boat, I began at last to fear that she would prove to be right.
A brightening in the sky to the eastward, over the crest of the lofty heights that towered above us in that direction, at length announced the rising of the moon, and, at the same time, made us aware that some four hours had elapsed since sunset. As the mild radiance of the silver luminary met my gaze I started to my feet, and said—
“There is the moon rising, and we shall soon have light enough to make our final dispositions for the night. Meanwhile, as you are all perfectly safe here, I will endeavour to make my way round to the beach abreast of the ship, and see what they are about on board. If they intend to go to sea to-night they will soon be making a move to get under way; and if they do not, there may yet be a chance for us to do something, with Martin’s assistance.”
“What!” exclaimed Sir Edgar, “do you still believe in that fellow’s fidelity?”
“Yes,” said I, stoutly. “Do not you?”
“Well,” answered Sir Edgar, “I did, most implicitly. But since the shameful business of this evening I must confess that I have begun to entertain doubts of him. All your plans and precautions, you see, have been framed upon the information with which he has supplied you; and if he really were in the men’s confidence, and anxious to serve you, how came it that he was not aware of the coup which the men have so successfully executed, or, if aware of their intentions, why did he not make an opportunity to warn us? I confess that, to me, it appears very much as though the men had all along feared some suspicion on your part, and had employed him to throw you off your guard.”
“No,” said I, meditatively, “no; I cannot think that. There are certainly one or two circumstances connected with his behaviour that I cannot at present fully understand, and perhaps we shall now never know whether he was really faithful or not; but I still believe him to be so, and I feel confident that, if he cannot help us in any other way, he and Forbes between them will devise some means for procuring our speedy rescue. Now, I am off for the beach. You, I suppose, will remain here; you can scarcely do better to-night, and it is desirable that I should know exactly where to find you again without difficulty, should any unforeseen contingency arise.”
While I was speaking, Miss Merrivale had risen to her feet impetuously, with all the eager, determined look in her face of one who is about to say or do something of a very decisive character; but if such was her intention she checked herself, seemingly, at the moment when the words were about to escape her lips, and contented herself by saying instead—
“Pray be very careful what you do, captain; remember that we are all now utterly dependent upon you!”
I assured her that she might depend absolutely upon my discretion—smiling, rather bitterly, meanwhile, at the reflection that, throughout this business at least, my discretion had been by no means brilliantly conspicuous—and so, with a bow, left the little party clustered together upon the white sand; a curious, yet pretty, picture to any one who could have been suddenly transported from the surroundings of civilisation to that lonely island of the Pacific.
Making my way rapidly along the margin of the basin, close to the water’s edge, where the sand was firm and the walking consequently easy, I soon reached the projecting point that marked the junction of the creek with the river, and bent my steps along the narrow beach toward the estuary. For some distance in this direction the only sound to break the silence of the night was the loud, continuous, indescribable chirr of the countless myriads of insects that haunted the recesses of the jungle; but at length, on rounding a bend in the river, I caught sight of the barque, still at anchor, and at the same moment became conscious of a new sound that, as I progressed toward the mouth of the river, gradually resolved itself into the tones of human voices uplifted in an attempt at melody. The thought that struck me, as this sound first met my ear, was that the men had decided to go to sea forthwith, and were now heaving short the cable—an impression that at once determined me to push on and watch the departure of the sweet little craft. But as I worked my way cautiously along toward the open beach, keeping well within the shadow of the trees, in order that my movements might not attract attention—for the moon, somewhat past the full, now rode high enough in the cloudless sky to render the most minute objects distinctly visible—I bethought me that the mutineers could not be getting their anchor, or I should by this time hear the sharp clank of the windlass pawls mingling with their song; moreover, I was now near enough to distinguish that the singing was not the wailing, monotonous chant and rousing chorus of a “shanty,” but a confused medley of sound, as though all hands were singing at once, and every man a different tune; and I at once came to the conclusion that the fellows had secured some liquor and were indulging in a carouse. Should this be indeed the case—and I fervently hoped that it was—they would probably not desist until every man had become helplessly intoxicated, as they had doubtless secured Forbes so effectually that there would be no possibility of his recovering his freedom until some one chose to release him; while they would scarcely deign to give a thought to us on shore, with the knowledge that the ship was distant at least half a mile from the nearest point of the beach, and that both gigs were securely swinging at the davits.
As this conviction dawned upon me a feeling of renewed hope and fierce exultation leapt up in my heart, and my brain at once became busy with plans for the recovery of the ship. For one of my few accomplishments was that I was a fast and tireless swimmer, and—provided that there were no sharks in the neighbourhood—the half-mile of water that intervened between me and the Esmeralda was no more formidable an obstacle than had it consisted of firm, level roadway. Judging, however, by the present vigorous character of the singing that came pealing across to me from the ship, the opportune moment for such an attempt as I meditated was yet a good hour distant, and I therefore determined to stroll leisurely back to the party at the creek, and acquaint them with the new phase of affairs.
When at length I rejoined the group, I found that during my absence Sir Edgar had so far completed his arrangements for the night that the maids and the children were comfortably bestowed upon the warm, yielding sand, fast asleep, with their heads and faces well shielded from the rays of the moon by a small tent-like structure, consisting of a shawl stretched over an arrangement of sticks cunningly bound together with tough, pliant monkey-rope, while Lady Emily slumbered peacefully by her husband’s side, with his arm about her waist, while her head rested upon his shoulder. Miss Merrivale, however, and Sir Edgar were still awake, and as I approached them the former started to her feet and, with her finger upon her lips as she pointed to the little group of sleepers, murmured softly—
“How long you have been! And what an eager, glad look there is in your face! What has happened? I am sure you have good news to tell us.”
“Good, thus far,” I admitted, “that the ship has not yet gone to sea; and I believe that she will not now go until to-morrow. The men appear to have obtained possession of some liquor, and are indulging in a royal carouse—if one may judge by the singing and noise that I heard going on aboard when I was down at the beach—and I am not without the hope that ere the night be much older the fellows will have drunk themselves into a helpless state of intoxication. Now, if upon my return presently to my late post of observation I should have reason to believe that such a thing has happened, I shall swim quietly off to the ship, and endeavour to get on board her without disturbing anybody; and should I be able to manage this, my next task will be to discover and liberate the mate. This once accomplished, it shall go hard with us if we do not succeed in retaking the ship from the drunken rascals, and repaying them in their own coin.”
“By Jove, Saint Leger, you are ‘grit all through,’ as the Yankees say. It is a bold scheme, and I believe you will succeed,” exclaimed Sir Edgar, admiringly. “I would that I could accompany you,” he added wistfully, “for in such an undertaking every additional man on your side is of incalculable value. But, unfortunately, my swimming powers are not equal to anything like such a stretch of water as that between the shore and the ship, and I should only be an embarrassment instead of a help to you, unless, indeed, I could contrive to do the distance with the aid of a log to float me.”
“No,” said I; “I am infinitely grateful to you, Sir Edgar, for your readiness to assist in this undertaking; but it is not to be thought of. Your place is manifestly here, by the side of your family, so that, should events turn out awkwardly, they may not be left on the island without a defender. We will not, however, contemplate any such unfortunate ending as that to the adventure; on the contrary, let us rather look forward hopefully to the prospect of your all breakfasting on board as usual, to-morrow morning. You understand, of course, that should I succeed, my first act, after securing the mutineers, will be to come ashore in a boat for you.”
“Do you suppose we do not know that?” exclaimed Miss Merrivale, impetuously. “But it is a desperately dangerous enterprise; and if—oh, why is it that women are such shamefully useless creatures in crises like these? If our strength were only equal to our courage—”
“You could not, even then, be more absolutely irresistible than you now are,” I interrupted, with a low bow, and a poor attempt at gallantry. “Your turn will come, however, be assured of that,” I continued; “for, whichever way this project of mine turns, you will have ample opportunity for the display of both courage and helpfulness. Should we ever succeed in recapturing the ship it is more than probable that I shall sometimes be compelled to call upon you all to afford help in such matters as the steering of her, and so on. But it is full early yet to talk like this.”
“So far as I am concerned, your call shall not be in vain!” exclaimed the spirited girl, with a flash of her eyes that thrilled through me like an electric shock. “If I have not the physical strength of a man, I have at least as resolute a will, which is no mean substitute for it. And now, good-bye; for I see that you are longing to get away. You will be careful, though, will you not? and not run any unnecessary risks?”
I took the hand that was so frankly extended to me, and gave it a hearty squeeze; gazed for an instant into the eyes that dwelt so anxiously upon mine; and, immeasurably cheered and encouraged by the interest and sympathy that I read there, turned away quickly and stepped briskly out toward the mouth of the creek once more.
The time I had taken to walk to and from the basin appeared to have sufficed the carousers to drink themselves well on toward a condition of oblivion; for when I again reached the beach opposite the ship, the singing had subsided into an occasional maudlin howl that, in its turn, soon afterwards yielded to the stupefying effects of the liquor, and a dead silence fell upon the ship.
I did not wait, however, for this final stage of insensibility to arrive among the mutineers; but kicked off my shoes, and laying them, with my hat and jacket, upon the sand, immediately upon my arrival at my former post of observation, at once entered the water and started to swim with long, steady, deliberate strokes toward the ship. The water was perfectly calm and smooth, as well as deliciously warm; so that, despite the leisurely character of my exertions, I made excellent progress, and, in a shorter time than I had thought possible, found myself within the deep shadow of the ship’s hull. Everything was by this time as silent as death on board, save for the slight jerk of the wheel-chains and the sob of the water along the bends and about the rudder as the ship swung gently upon the long, low ground-swell, the edge of which just caught her as it crept up from the westward across the mouth of the small estuary where she lay at anchor. So still and silent was the breathless night that the volume of sound raised by the insects on shore rang in my ears almost as distinctly out here as it had done when I stood upon the beach; it was, however, so far mellowed and softened by the intervening distance that it was possible to hear other sounds distinctly through it, even when they were so faint as the slight, almost imperceptible creak of the yard-parrels aloft, and the light flap of a coiled-up rope striking against the bulwarks with the slight, easy roll of the ship. I was therefore particularly careful not to make the faintest splash, as I drew up alongside, lest the unaccustomed sound should reach the ear of and startle some individual not yet completely overpowered by the drink he had swallowed. Fortunately for me, the gangway ladder had not been hauled up, and I was consequently free to board the ship well aft, thus greatly lessening the risk of detection; I had, therefore, only to wait until the roll of the ship brought the ladder within my grasp, seize it, and draw myself noiselessly out of the water. This was precisely the course that I followed; and I had already drawn myself up clear of the water when there occurred a rush and swirl immediately beneath me, and I received so smart a blow that I narrowly escaped being knocked off the ladder, as a large shark sprang half his length out of the water after me and fell back with a terrific splash, loud enough, I am sure, to have been distinctly heard on shore, had there been any one on the beach to hear it. The brute had evidently been lurking under the ship’s bottom—attracted there, doubtless, by the refuse thrown overboard from time to time by the cook—and had only become aware of my presence just in time to make a rapid, ill-directed rush that had very narrowly missed me. Oh, how fervently I thanked Heaven, as I sprang up the side beyond the reach of a possible second rush, that the necessity for a cautious approach to the ship had rendered my movements so noiseless that the great fish had not discovered me until too late!
That the sudden and violent disturbance alongside had, however, not passed unnoticed on deck was immediately apparent by the appearance of a human head over the rail by the fore-rigging, only to disappear instantly, however, and make its reappearance at the gangway. As it did so, a voice that I instantly recognised as Joe’s murmured, in low, cautious tones—
“Is that you, cap’n?”
“Yes, Joe,” I replied, with equal caution, as I paused with my eyes on a level with the rail. “How is it on board? Have the rascals drunk themselves stupid?”
“Ay! that’s just exactly what they have done,” answered Joe; “and I was just creepin’ quietly aft to cast Mr Forbes loose, by way of a start, when I heard the row alongside. How did it happen, sir? Did you slip and fall back’ards?”
“No,” I returned; “it was a shark that rose at me from under the ship’s bottom, and a narrow escape I have had of it; the brute struck me with his snout, as he sprang out of the water, and all but knocked me off the ladder.”
“A shark?” ejaculated Joe, in dismay. “My word, sir, you have had a narrer squeak, and no mistake! You stop where you are, sir, out of sight, for a minute, while I goes for’ard and just sees whether the rumpus have roused any of ’em. I’ll be back in a brace of shakes.”
So saying, Joe sauntered carelessly away forward again; loitered aimlessly about the foredeck for a few minutes; sauntered quietly aft again past the larboard gangway, and so round abaft the mainmast and capstan until he rejoined me again.
“All right, sir,” he whispered. “They ain’t all asleep; but every mother’s son of ’em is that helplessly drunk we can do anything we likes with ’em. Now, sir,” as I stepped in on deck, “if you likes to go to your cabin and shift into dry clothes, I’ll go and cut poor Mr Forbes adrift. I am afraid he ain’t none too comfortable, for it seemed to me as the beggars was passin’ the seizings pretty taut when they lashed him up to-night.”
“Is that so?” said I, indignantly. “Then we will go and cut him adrift before doing anything else, Joe. He may be enduring cruel torments all this time. Where is he?”
“Locked in his own berth, sir,” answered Joe. “And that reminds me, I don’t know who’s got the key.”
“They may have left it in the door,” I hazarded. “Who locked him in?”
“Rogers and Moore, sir. They are the two ringleaders in this here business.”
We had by this time reached the mate’s cabin; but found the door locked, and the key missing. As I tried the door-handle I thought I heard a groan from the interior; so, without wasting time to search about for the key, I set my back against the bulkhead of the passage and my foot against the door by the lock, and the next moment we had the door open. A shapeless object upon the floor of the cabin, indistinctly seen in the semi-darkness which pervaded the place, proved to be the mate, lying just as he had been carelessly flung in there, hours before, with his wrists and heels lashed together behind his back. The poor fellow was in a dreadful state, having lain there all those hours in excruciating agony from the cruel pressure of the lashings about his limbs, which, with brutal carelessness, had been drawn so tight as to have completely stopped the circulation of the blood in his extremities. His limbs were now swollen almost out of recognition; he had bitten his lower lip right through in the extremity of his torment; his beard was drenched with bloody foam; and our efforts to release him occasioned him such exquisite agony that he fainted under our hands. A sharp knife, however, speedily freed him from his bonds, after which Joe and I gently chafed his swollen wrists and ankles until the circulation of the blood was restored; but it was nearly an hour before the poor fellow was able to move with any degree of freedom.
At length, however, he pronounced himself ready for action; when, going on deck, and arming ourselves with a heavy brass belaying-pin each, the three of us proceeded forward, resolutely determined to stand no nonsense whatever from anybody who should presume to interfere with us.
It was, therefore, a distinctly unfortunate circumstance for Rogers that he should, a moment or two previously, have awakened from his drunken sleep and staggered to his feet with, apparently, some confused notion of taking a look round the ship and assuring himself that all was right; for, coming face to face with Forbes and Joe as they rounded the corner of the galley, he was promptly felled by the latter with a blow from a belaying-pin that must have caused him discomfort for many a day afterwards, while its immediate effect was to stretch him out upon the deck senseless and bleeding. The sound of his fall disturbed one or two of the rest—all of whom were sprawled out inertly upon the foredeck, in the midst of empty and overturned bottles and pannikins—just sufficiently to cause them to raise their heads and grumble out a few unintelligible words; but we had no difficulty whatever with them, and in less than half an hour we had the whole of them securely bound, hand and foot, and lying at our mercy. Having reduced them to this condition, and disarmed them, we distributed them about the deck fore and aft, lashing each man separately to a ringbolt, cleat, or other convenient mooring in such a way that no man might be within another’s reach—for I had heard before now of men releasing each other by working at the lashings with their teeth—and then left them to recover their sober senses at their leisure, while we busied ourselves about other matters.
Our first act was to lower the port quarter-boat, get into her, and pull ashore to the creek, where we found Sir Edgar and his party pretty much as I had left them; he and Miss Merrivale being the only two still awake. Our arrival was greeted with a shout of delight from the baronet that effectually awoke the sleepers; and the whole party quickly tumbled into the boat, Sir Edgar and Lady Emily vying with each other in the heartiness of their congratulations at our success and the eagerness with which they asked for details of the adventure. Miss Merrivale, on the contrary, was strangely silent, contenting herself with a warm clasp of the hand at the moment of our reunion; and presently, when we had shoved off again for the ship, I noticed that she was furtively crying. I concluded that the reaction from the long hours of suspense that she had just passed through had proved rather too much for her nerves, and so prudently appeared to take no notice whatever of her little break-down. We soon reached the ship, and, upon my solemn assurance that they might do so with absolute safety, the rescued party at once retired below to their respective cabins; Miss Merrivale only lingering behind for a moment to say—
“I have no words to express how glad and thankful I am that you have been successful in your hazardous enterprise. You are a brave man, as well as a—But,”—with a sudden, merry smile, “I will not say more, lest I make you vain. Good night!”
I was beginning to feel a bit puzzled at this young lady’s manner, which seemed to have undergone a subtle, indescribable change within the last twelve hours that was as incomprehensible as it was pleasant. It was just then, however, scarcely a suitable moment for speculation upon such an inscrutable subject as the deportment of a lovely and charming woman to a simple sailor like myself; so I dismissed the matter from my mind and turned to the consideration of other subjects, less agreeable, but calling more imperatively for my immediate attention.
The first thing was to summon Forbes and Joe to a council of war for discussion of the question what was to be done with the mutineers. There were some of them that it would be obviously impossible to retain on board the ship with the least chance of safety to ourselves; but I scarcely believed they could all be equally bad, and I was in hopes that, upon consultation with Joe, I should learn that we might trust a sufficient number of them to enable us to make the voyage to Valparaiso in safety, where I thought it probable I might be able to pick up an entire new crew, without very much difficulty. On submitting the question to him, however, Joe gave it as his very decided opinion that there were only three out of the eleven mutineers whom it would be in the least degree prudent to trust; those three being the negro, the Swede, and Barr, one of the Americans. These three we accordingly gave the benefit of the doubt, for the moment; and, that point settled, we next proceeded to draw up a list of such articles as we deemed absolutely necessary to the welfare of the men whose conduct had rendered it imperative that we should maroon them.
After some consideration, the contents of this list resolved themselves into: each man’s personal effects in their entirety, including weapons and ammunition, the latter, however, to be securely screwed up in a stout wooden case, so that it might not be got at and used against us whilst effecting the transfer of the mutineers to the shore; a saw, hammer, chisel, and an assortment of nails; half a dozen barrels of beef, and the same of bread; a half-chest of tea, a few pounds of coffee, and some sugar; a cock and three hens; some cooking utensils; a little crockery; matches; and an old main-course; which, with the axes, shovels, picks, rope, blocks, and spars used in securing the treasure, and which still remained on shore, ought, we considered, to furnish them with the means to make themselves fairly comfortable until they should be taken off. This important matter decided, the next thing was to get everything up and passed into the boat—a task which fully occupied us until daylight; by which time the effects of the carouse showed signs of passing off, and the men began to awake in a measure to a consciousness of their situation. A few of them—Rogers, Moore, and O’Connor especially—gave vent to their indignation and disgust in a continuous flood of the vilest language, mingled with blood-curdling threats of the vengeance that they would wreak upon us some time in the future; but the rest accepted their impending fate with sullen stoicism. We, meanwhile, comfortably conscious that, for the present at least, they were utterly powerless to fulfil any of their threats, or otherwise work us any evil, went composedly on with our work; first conveying to and landing all the baggage on the sandy beach of the creek, and then ferrying the marooned men ashore, with their hands securely lashed behind them. We had determined to land only eight of them; and when this had been done, and we were all ready to leave them, we cut the bonds of the last man ashore, and left him to free his companions at leisure, thus effectually insuring ourselves against any trouble from the marooned party at the last moment. Then, having shouted to them a parting promise that we would make known the fact of their presence on the island to the first British man-o’-war we met with, together with the cause of their being left there, we paddled quietly on board again, and set to work to provide ourselves with a much-needed breakfast.