CHAPTER XIII.
AFTER THE BATTLE IN THE FELUCCA.
We left the second master of the Tritonia and the two runaway seamen in a rather critical situation on board of the felucca. We regret the necessity of jumping about all over Spain to keep the run of our characters; but we are obliged to conform to the arrangement of the principal,—who was absolute in his sway,—and follow the young gentlemen wherever he sends them. Though Mr. Lowington was informed, before his departure with the ship’s company of the Prince, of the escape of Raimundo and the two “marines,” he was content to leave the steps for the recovery of the runaways to the good judgment of the vice-principal in charge of the Tritonia.
Raimundo had managed his case so well that the departure of the three students from the vessel was not discovered by any one on board or on shore. If the alguacil was on the lookout for his prisoner, he had failed to find him, or to obtain any information in regard to him. The circumstances had certainly favored the escape in the highest degree. The distance across the harbor, the concealment afforded by the hulls of the vessels of the fleet, and the shadow of the sea-wall under which the fugitives had placed themselves, had prevented them from being seen. Indeed, no one could have seen them, except from the deck of the Tritonia or the Josephine; and probably those on board of the latter were below, as they were on the former.
Of course Mr. Salter, the chief steward of the Tritonia, was very much astonished when he found that the prisoners had escaped from the brig. Doubtless he made as much of an excitement as was possible with only one of his assistants to help him. He had no boat; and he was unable to find one from the shore till the felucca was well out of the harbor. Probably Hugo was as zealous as the occasion required in the investigation of the means by which the fugitives had escaped; but he was as much astonished as his chief when told that Bill Stout and Bark Lingall were gone. The brig was in its usual condition, with the door locked; but the unfastened scuttle soon disclosed the mode of egress selected by the rogues. Mr. Pelham, assisted by Mr. Fluxion, vice-principal of the Josephine, did all they could to find the two “marines,” without any success whatever; but they had no suspicion that the second master, who had disappeared the night before, was one of the party.
The next morning all hands from the two consorts were sent on board of the American Prince. Mr. Fluxion was the senior vice-principal, and had the command of the vessel. The ship’s company of the Josephine formed the starboard, and that of the Tritonia the port watch. The officers took rank in each grade according to seniority. Mr. Fluxion was unwilling to sail until he had drilled this miscellaneous ship’s company in their new duties. He had a superabundance of officers, and it was necessary for them to know their places. In the morning he had telegraphed to the principal at Saragossa, in regard to the fugitives; and the order came back for him to sail without them. Mr. Lowington was not disposed to waste much of his time in looking for runaways: they were pretty sure to come back without much assistance. At noon the Prince sailed for Lisbon; and all on board of her were delighted with the novelty of the new situation. As it is not necessary to follow the steamer, which safely arrived at Lisbon on the following Sunday morning, we will return to Raimundo and his companions.
Filipe, struggling, and swearing the heaviest oaths, was bound hand and foot in the bottom of the felucca, and lashed to the heel of the mainmast. Juan lay insensible in the space between the cuddy and the mainmast, where he had fallen when the young Spaniard hit him with the spare tiller. The boat had broached to when the helm was abandoned by the boatman’s son, to go to the assistance of his father. Of course Raimundo and Bark were very much excited by this sudden encounter; and it had required the united strength of both of them to overcome the boatman, though he was not a large man. Bill Stout had done nothing. He had not the pluck to help secure Filipe after he had been thrown down, or rather dragged down, by Bark.
As soon as the victory was accomplished, Raimundo sprang to the helm, and brought the felucca up to her course again. His chest heaved, and his breathing was so violent as to be audible. Bark was in no better condition; and, if Juan had come to his senses at that moment, he might have conquered both of them.
“Pick up that knife, Lingall,” said Raimundo, as soon as he was able to speak.
He pointed to the knife which the boatman had dropped during the struggle; and Bark picked it up.
“Now throw it overboard,” added the second master. “We can handle these men, I think, if there are no knives in the case.”
“No; don’t do that!” interposed Bill Stout. “Give it to me.”
“Give it to you, you coward!” replied Raimundo. “What do you want of it?”
“I will use it if we get into another fight. I don’t like to tackle a man with a knife in his hand, when I have no weapon of any kind,” answered Bill, who, when the danger was over, began to assume his usual bullying tone and manner.
“Over with it, Lingall!” repeated Raimundo sharply. “You are good for nothing, Stout: you had not pluck enough to touch the man after your friend had him down.”
Bark waited for no more, but tossed the knife into the sea. He never “took any stock” in Bill Stout’s bluster; but he had not suspected that the fellow was such an arrant coward. As compared with Raimundo, who had risen vastly in his estimation within the last few hours, he thoroughly despised his fellow-conspirator. If he did not believe it before, he was satisfied now, that the gentlest and most correct students could also be the best fellows. However it had been before, Bill no longer had any influence over him; while he was ready to obey the slightest wish of the second master, whom he had hated only the day before.
“See if you can find the other knife,—the one the young man had,” continued Raimundo.
“I see it,” replied Bark; and he picked up the ugly weapon.
“Send it after the other. The less knives we have on board, the better off we shall be,” added the second master. “I don’t like the habit of my countrymen in carrying the cuchilla any better than I do that of yours in the use of revolvers.”
“I think it was stupid to throw away those knives, when you have to fight such fellows as these,” said Bill Stout, as he glanced at the prostrate form of the older boatman, who was writhing to break away from his bonds.
“Your opinion on that subject is of no value just now,” added Raimundo contemptuously.
“What do you say, Bark?” continued Bill, appealing to his confederate.
“I agree with Raimundo,” answered Bark. “I don’t want to be mixed up in any fight where knives are used.”
“And I object just as much to knifing a man as I do to being knifed,” said Raimundo. “Though I am a Spaniard, I don’t think I would use a knife to save my own life.”
“I would,” blustered Bill.
“No, you wouldn’t: you haven’t pluck enough to do any thing,” retorted Bark. “I advise you not to say any thing more on this subject, Stout.”
At this moment Filipe made a desperate attempt to free himself; and Bill retreated to the forecastle, evidently determined not to be in the way if another battle took place. Bark picked up the spare tiller the second master had dropped, and prepared to defend himself. Another club was found, and each of those who had the pluck to use was well prepared for another attack.
“Lie still, or I will hit you over the head!” said Bark to the struggling skipper, as he flourished the tiller over him.
But the ropes with which he was secured were strong and well knotted. Bark was a good sailor, and he had done this part of the work. He looked over the fastenings, and made sure that they were all right.
“He can’t get loose, Mr. Raimundo,” said he.
“But Juan is beginning to come to his senses,” added the second master. “He has just turned half over.”
“I hope he is not much hurt: we may get into a scrape if he is.”
“I was just thinking of that. But I don’t believe he is very badly damaged,” added Raimundo. “If the old man can’t get away, suppose you look him over, and see what his condition is.”
Bark complied with this request. Filipe seemed to be interested in this inquiry; and he lay quite still while the examination was in progress. The young sailor found a wound and a considerable swelling on the side of Juan’s head; but it was now so dark that he could not distinctly see the nature of the injury.
“Have you a match, Mr. Raimundo?” he asked.
“I have not. We were not allowed to have matches on board the Tritonia,” replied the second master.
“Tengo pajuelas,” said Filipe. “Una linterna en el camarote de proa.”
“What does he say?” inquired Bark, glad to find that the skipper was no longer pugnacious.
“He says he has matches, and that there is a lantern in the cuddy,” replied Raimundo. “Here, Stout, look in the cuddy, and see if you can find a lantern there.”
Bill had the grace to obey the order, though he was tempted to refuse to do so. He found the lantern, for he had seen it while he lay in the cuddy. He brought it to Bark, and took the lamp out of the globe.
“You will find some matches in Filipe’s pockets,” added Raimundo.
“I have matches enough,” answered Bill.
“I forgot that you used matches,” said the second master; “but I am glad you have a chance to make a better use of them than you did on board of the Tritonia.”
“You needn’t say any thing! You are the first officer that ever run away from that vessel,” growled Bill, as he lighted a match, and communicated the blaze to the wick of the lamp.
It was a kerosene-lamp, just such as is used at home, and probably came from the United States. Bark proceeded to examine the wound of Juan, and found it was not a severe one. The young man was rapidly coming to himself, and in a few minutes more he would be able to take care of himself.
“I think we had better move him into the cuddy,” suggested Bark. “We can make him comfortable there, and fasten him in at the same time.”
“That’s a capital idea, Lingall; and if Stout will take the helm I will help you move him,” answered Raimundo.
“I will help move him,” volunteered Bill.
“I supposed you were afraid of him,” added the second master. “He has about come to himself.”
Juan spoke then, and complained of his head. Bark and Bill lifted him up, and carried him to the cuddy, where they placed him on the bed of old garments upon which they had slept themselves during the afternoon. Bark had some little reputation among his companions as a surgeon, probably because he always carried a sheet of court-plaster in his pocket, and sometimes had occasion to attend to the wounds of his friends. Perhaps he had also a taste for this sort of thing; for he was generally called upon in all cases of broken heads, before the chief steward, who was the amateur surgeon of the Tritonia, was summoned. At any rate, Bark, either from genuine kindness, or the love of amateur surgical dressing, was not content to let the wounded Spaniard rest till he had done something more for him. He washed the injury in fresh water, closed the ugly cut with a piece of court-plaster, and then bound up the head of the patient with his own handkerchief.
The wounded man tried to talk to him; but he could not understand a word he said. If his father spoke English, it was certain that the son did not. When he had done all this, Bark relieved Raimundo at the helm, and the latter went forward to talk with the patient, who was so quiet that Bark had not thought of fastening the door of the cuddy.
“I am well now,” said Juan, “and I want to go out.”
“You must not go out of this place; if you do, we shall hit you over the head again,” replied the second master sternly.
“Where is my father?” asked the patient.
“He is tied hand and foot; and we shall tie you in the same way if you don’t keep still and obey orders,” added Raimundo. “Lie still where you are, and no harm shall be done to you.”
Raimundo, taking the lantern with him, left the cuddy, and fastened it behind him with the padlock he found in the staple. Putting the key in his pocket, he made an examination into the condition of Filipe, with the aid of the lantern. He found him still securely bound, and, better than that, as quiet as a lamb.
“How is my son?” asked he.
“He is doing very well. We have dressed his wound, and he will be as well as ever in a day or two,” replied Raimundo.
“Gracias, muchos gracias!” exclaimed the prisoner.
“If we had been armed as you were, he might have lost his life,” added Raimundo, moving aft to the helm. “I think we are all right, Lingall.”
“I am very glad of it. We came very near getting into a bad scrape,” replied Bark.
“It is bad enough as it is. I have been afraid of something of this kind ever since we got well out of the port of Barcelona,” continued the second master. “The villain asked me so many questions about my money that my suspicions were excited, and I was on the watch for him. Then he was so anxious that we should drink wine, I was almost sure he meant mischief.”
“I am very sorry I drank any wine. It only makes my head ache,” replied Bark penitently.
“I have heard my uncle speak of these men; and I know something about them.”
“The wine did not make my head ache,” said Bill.
“That’s because there is nothing in it,” answered Raimundo, who could not restrain his contempt for the incendiary.
“But I do not understand exactly how the fight was begun,” said Bark. “The first I knew, the boatman sprang at you.”
“That’s the first I knew, though I was on the lookout for him, as I had been all the afternoon. He understood what I meant when I told you this man means mischief.”
“But he told you he could not speak English.”
“Most of the boatmen speak more or less English: they learn it from the passengers they carry. He wanted to know whether we had money before he did any thing. He was probably satisfied that we had some before he attempted to assault us.”
“I know you have money,” cried Filipe, in English; and he seemed to be more anxious to prove the correctness of his conclusion than to disprove his wicked intentions.
“You have not got any of it yet,” replied Raimundo.
“But I will have it!” protested the villain.
“You tempt me to throw you and your son overboard,” said Raimundo sternly, in Spanish.
“Not my son,” answered the villain, suddenly changing his tone. “He is his mother’s only boy.”
“You should have thought of that before you brought him with you on such business.”
The boatman, for such a villain as he was, seemed to have a strange affection for his son; and Raimundo was almost willing to believe he had not intended till some time after they left the port to rob his passengers. Perhaps, with the aid of the wine, he had expected an easy victory; for, though the students were all stout fellows, they were but boys.
“I will not harm you if you do not injure my boy,” pleaded Filipe.
“It is not in your power to harm us now; for we have all the power,” replied the second master.
“But you are deserters from your ship. I can tell where you are,” added Filipe, with something like triumph in his tones.
“We expect you to tell all you know as soon as you return.”
“I can do it in Tarragona: they will arrest you there if I tell them.”
“We are not afraid of that: if we were, we should throw you and your son overboard.”
Filipe did not like this side of the argument, and he was silent for some time. It must be confessed that Raimundo did not like his side any better. The fellow could inform the police in Tarragona that the party were deserters, and cause them to be sent back to Barcelona. Though this was better than throwing the boatman and his son overboard, which was only an idle threat, it would spoil all his calculations, and defeat all his plans. He studied the case for some time, after he had explained to Bark what had passed between himself and Filipe in Spanish.
“You want more money than you were to receive for the boat; do you, Filipe?” asked he.
“I have to pay five hundred reales on this boat in three days, or lose it and my small one too,” replied the boatman; and the passenger was not sure he did not invent the story as he went along. “I am not a bad man; but I want two hundred reales more than you are to pay me.”
“Then you expect me to pay what I agreed, after what has happened, do you?”
“You promised to pay it.”
“And you promised to take me to Tarragona; and you have been trying to murder me on the way,” exclaimed Raimundo indignantly.
“Oh, no! I did not mean to kill you, or to hurt you; only to take two hundred reales from you,” pleaded the boatman, with the most refreshing candor.
“That’s all; is it?”
The villain protested, by the Virgin and all the saints in the Spanish calendar, that he had not intended any thing more than this; and Raimundo translated what he said to his companion.
“There are a lot of lights on a high hill ahead,” said Bill Stout, who had been looking at the shore, which was only a short distance from them.
“That must be Tarragona,” replied the second master, looking at his watch by the light of the lantern. “It is ten minutes of seven; and we have been six hours on the trip. I thought it would take about this time. That must be Tarragona; it is on a hill eight hundred feet high.”
“We have been sailing very fast, the last three hours,” added Bark. “But how are we to get out of this scrape?”
“I will see. Keep a sharp lookout on the starboard, Lingall; and, when you see a place where you think we can make a landing, let me know.—Can you steer, Stout, and keep her as she is?”
“Of course I can steer. I don’t give up to any fellow in handling a boat,” growled Bill.
Raimundo gave him the tiller; but he watched him for a time, to see that he made good his word. The bully did very well, and kept the felucca parallel with the shore, as she had been all the afternoon.
“There is a mole makes out from the shore,” continued the active skipper to Bark, who had gone forward of the foremast to do the duty assigned to him.
“Ay, ay! I can see it,” replied Bark.
“I think we need not quarrel, Filipe,” said Raimundo, bending over the prisoner, and unloosing the rope that bound his hands to the mast; but they were still tied behind him. “We are almost into Tarragona, and what we do must be done quickly.”
“Don’t harm Juan,” pleaded Filipe.
“That will depend on yourself, whether we do or not,” replied Raimundo, as fiercely as he could speak. “We are not to be trifled with; and Americans carry pistols sometimes.”
“I will do what you wish,” answered Filipe.
“I will give you what I agreed, and two hundred reales besides, if you will keep still about our being deserters; and that is all the money we have.”
“Gracias! I will do it!” exclaimed the boatman. “Release me, and I will land you outside of the mole, and not go near the town to speak to any person.”
“I am afraid to trust you.”
“You can trust a Catalan when he promises;” and Filipe proceeded to call upon the Virgin and the saints to witness what he said.
“Where can we land?” asked the second master.
The boatman looked over the rail of the felucca; and, when he had got his bearings, he indicated a point where a safe landing might be made. It was not a quarter of a mile distant; and Filipe said the mainsail ought to be furled. Raimundo picked up the spare tiller,—for, in spite of the Catalan’s oath and promise, he was determined to be on the safe side,—and then unfastened the ropes that bound the prisoner.
“If you play me false, I will brain you with this club, and pitch your son into the sea!” said Raimundo, as tragically as he could do the business.
“I will be true to my promise,” he replied, as he brailed up the mainsail.
“You see that your money is ready for you as soon as you land us,” continued Raimundo, as he showed the villain five Isabelinos he held in one hand, while he grasped the spare tiller with the other.
“Gracias!” replied Filipe, who was possibly satisfied when he found that he was to make the full sum he had first named as his price; and it may be that he was tempted by the urgency of his creditor to rob his passengers.
“Have your pistol ready, Lingall!” added Raimundo, as the boatman, who had taken the helm from Bill, threw the felucca up into the wind, and her keel began to grate on the rocks.
“Ay, ay!” shouted Bark.
The boat ran her long bow up to the dry land, and hung there by her bottom. Raimundo gave the five hundred reales to Filipe, and sprang ashore with the tiller in his hand. Calling to Bark, they shoved off the felucca, and then ran for the town.