THE PURSUIT
Martin sat on a thwart side by side with Hopton, listening intently to the discussion that passed between Gollop and Boulter as they pulled the boat steadily downstream.
“She got away with the first of the ebb,” said the constable. “What’s the odds on our catching her?”
“That depends,” replied the waterman cautiously. “I reckon she’s got three or four hours’ start, but she won’t go faster than the tide.”
“Not so fast, against this wind,” said Gollop.
“True, but it ain’t blowing so hard, and it’s my belief it’ll drop to a calm afore night. Well then, she’ll hardly make Gravesend afore the turn of tide, and as she can’t beat up against the wind in the narrow reaches she’ll have to lay up when the ebb fails. For summat about three hours we ought to gain a bit on her, but not so much as to overhaul her, and then we’ll have the tide against us.”
“And be dead beat; I ain’t so handy with an oar as I was in my sea-going days.”
“Well, I’ve a friend or two in Woolwich, and if so be they ain’t saving the London folk’s goods I’ll get ’em to come aboard and take a spell while we rest. But suppose we catch the Portugal ship, what then, Gollop?”
“Why, I’ve got a warrant, ain’t I?”
“Much good that’ll be,” said Boulter scornfully. “They won’t care a fig for warrants or anything but swords and firelocks. You ought to have took a boatload of soldiers, that’s what I say.”
“Ay, it’s easy to say, but it couldn’t be done. Well, what you can’t help, make the best of. I tell you this: that Portugal ship, leastways the Merry Maid, shan’t get out of the river if I can help it.”
Martin was half-inclined to regard the pursuit as a wild-goose chase, and Hopton had nothing to say to encourage him; but uncertainty gave a spice to the adventure, and they felt a pleasant thrill of anticipation.
By the time they reached Woolwich the tide had turned, and Boulter thought it well to pull to the shore, partly for rest and food, partly to seek out his friends, enquire of them whether they had noticed the Portugal ship, and try to enlist their help. Luckily he came upon two watermen whom he knew well, and who were disengaged. From them he learnt that the vessel had passed about three hours before; she had tow boats out, towing her, and it was a matter of speculation on the riverside why her crew were putting themselves to so much exertion in such hot weather.
Gollop’s face fell when he heard this news. It was clear that Blackbeard expected pursuit, and was making all possible speed to evade it. Boulter’s friends agreed to join the expedition, under promise of a good reward if it proved successful, and the boat set off again after half an hour’s delay, the fresh oarsmen making good progress even against the tide. When all four men were pulling its pace was noticeably rapid, and at Erith, six miles beyond Woolwich, Gollop was delighted to learn on enquiry from an upgoing barge that the Merry Maid was now little more than two hours ahead.
Hour after hour the rowers plied their oars, taking turns to rest in couples. Martin and the old Frenchman, who had been up all night, fell asleep on their seats, and when they awoke it was five o’clock in the afternoon, and the boat was approaching Gravesend. Here Gollop decided to go ashore, for as the day wore on he had become less confident, and recognised that if Blackbeard and his crew resisted the arrest of the ship the pursuers, hopelessly outnumbered, would not be able to enforce it unless they could engage a party adequately armed.
Both he and Boulter had acquaintances among the mariners of Gravesend, but some of these were absent from their usual haunts, having been drawn to London by the prospect of making money out of the Fire. Those who remained showed themselves distrustful and suspicious; they were not to be tempted to lend their services in a cause that might fail; and Gollop, angry and troubled, made his way to the office of the Customs officer of the port, and sought his aid as a brother man of the law. The officer appeared to resent this claim of relationship, and treated the constable very off-handedly.
“Let me see this warrant you talk of,” he said, and when Gollop produced the scrap of paper, creased, oddly-shaped, its edges frayed and scorched, he sniffed. “I cannot act on this,” he said. “It is not drawn up in proper form. The Santa Maria has cleared; she is bound for Lisbon, the port of an ally; she is beyond my jurisdiction.”
At this Gollop lost his temper.
“You and your long words!” he said. “That there vessel ain’t a Portugal ship; she’s English from stem to stern; don’t I know? You’re neglecting of your duty, master officer, and I’ll take good care that them above you hear about it and you’ll get a rough hauling, my fine fellow.”
“Get out of this,” cried the officer, losing his temper in turn. “You may be a constable; I don’t know; but you’ll find your legs in the stocks if you air your insolence on an officer of His Majesty’s Customs.”
“Come away, Dick,” said Boulter soothingly. “We ain’t done yet. And we can’t afford to lose any more time. If the craft weathers Hope Point she’ll have a clear run out and give us the slip altogether. Come on, man.”
Within a few minutes the boat was again under way. It was heavy work pulling her down Gravesend Reach, and heavier still when, in Lower Hope Reach, she came full in the teeth of the wind. An exclamation from Martin caused Gollop to fling a hasty look over his shoulder. Strung out along the lee shore three ships lay at anchor, evidently waiting for the tide.
“Easy all!” cried Gollop, shipping his oar. A look of triumph gleamed in his eyes. “The second o’ them vessels—she’s the Merry Maid, bless her heart!”
“Are you sure?” said Boulter. “She’s three-quarters of a mile away.”
“Sure! Am I sure I’ve a nose on my face? That there’s my dear old captain’s craft, one in a thousand. She’s safe for a few hours. We’ll go ashore and wet our whistles, my mates; this is a chance we’ve got to make the best of.”
They pulled in towards the shore, but lay a few yards off the mud flats to talk over the next step before they landed.
“We can’t fight ’em, that’s certain,” said Boulter, “being only seven all told, two of us just boys, and one a aged furriner.”
Mounseer smiled, and fingered his rapier.
“True for you, mate,” said Gollop. “Well, if you ain’t strong enough to fight, what do you do?”
“Speaking for myself, I plays a trick.”
“Spoke like a wise man. Now what trick could you play?”
“That depends,” said Boulter, scratching his head. “What about boring a hole in her hull?”
“Seeing as none of us is a sword-fish, that can’t be done without ’tis noticed. What about giving ’em a scare? Them furriners are easy frightened.”
“You couldn’t scare ’em into quitting the vessel. But you talk of furriners. Now I come to think of it, I’ve knowed furren gentlemen put aboard outgoing vessels in the river—gentlemen as want to get away secret, and pay well for it. If so be——”
He paused and looked at the Frenchman.
“If so be as our furren gentleman could go aboard as a passenger, maybe the rest of us could get aboard too, eh?”
“Well, what then?”
“Why, that’s the trick, d’you see? What I say is——”
“But perhaps Mr. Seymour’s aboard, and he knows Mounseer,” said Martin.
“So much the better,” cried Gollop, slapping his thigh. “But what does Mounseer say?”
“I do anything what please you,” said the Frenchman quietly.
Five minutes’ close discussion ensued. Then the boat’s head was turned upstream, and the little party, hopeful and elated, was speeding back to Gravesend.