X
The morning dawned calm and beautiful. The heavy, oily swell, which still ran from the effects of the blow, moved in long, smooth humps upon the sea. Far to the eastward the light of the rising sun tinted the cirrus clouds above with a rosy hue.
I was quite tired from the effects of the gale, and the morning watch is always a cheerless one. The steward had coffee ready, however, and after a good drink I felt better, and got out the glass to see if I could make out the Sovereign. We had been drifting all night, so that in the mid-watch Trunnell wore ship and stood up for her to keep in sight. There she lay, about three miles away off our port beam. Her topsail was the only canvas she had set, and she was so low in the water that I could not see her deck amidships at that distance. All except a little of her high poop appeared to be under, or so low that it was invisible. I wondered why her captain had not put off sooner, and I knew that as soon as Thompson came on deck he would be in a fury at his having waited so long. There was not a breath of air now, so we were certain to be in company for several hours at least.
While I looked over the expanse of heaving ocean I saw a black spot between the ships. In a moment I made out a boat rising and falling, propelled by four oars, and headed for us. Sometimes she would disappear behind a high lump of sea and then she would be on top, and I made out she was coming along right handily.
As she drew nearer I made her out to be full of men. She came up under our mizzen channels and hailed. Half the watch was bending over the side looking at her, and one man threw a line. This was seized, and the next moment her crew came clambering over the rail.
Jenks, the old sailor who had come over in the boat with me the day before, was on deck to receive his shipmates. The old fellow's face wrinkled with amusement at the sight of his worn-out countrymen until it looked like the slack of a bellows. There was an unholy twinkle in his eye as he greeted them.
On the boarding of the officer of the boat, a tall Englishman who was the ship's mate, the man Jenks stopped his pleasantry at the tired crew's expense, but it was too late. He was ordered into the boat, with three other men who were fresh, to be sent away for the remaining men on the ship. Then the officer mounted the poop just as Captain Thompson emerged from below.
The officer bowed and touched his hat deferentially, but the skipper stood looking at him out of his glinting eyes, while his nose worked and twitched.
"Don't seem to be in much of a hurry, hey?" said our captain, with his drawl.
"We've been working steadily all night at the pumps, sir, hopin' to keep her afloat, sir. The old man—I beg pardon, Captain Sackett,—says as he'll not abandon her while she swims. The rest of us have permission to go, sir."
"Is her cargo of any particular value, then?"
"Yes, sir. It's palm oil and valuable woods. There's eight hundred barrels of palm oil in her, and the captain's got his all—every cent he has in the world. He won't leave her."
"Do you know what you resemble, hey?" said our skipper, dryly.
"I do not, sir."
"Well, I don't want to hurt the feelings of a poor, shipwrecked sailor, nor insinuate nothing sech as no gentleman ought. No, sirree. You are my guest aboard here, and damned welcome to you. At the same time, if I ware telling anybody as to what kind of a fellow you was, I should say,—yessir, after thinking the matter over carefully, and taking all points into consideration,—I might say that I thought ye an all-around white-livered, cowardly cuss, an' that's a fact."
The English mate turned red. He started to say something, and then checked himself. Finally he blurted out:—
"I've heard tell of some Yankee skippers who've given a bad name to your infernal shipping, an' I reckon I've run up against one. But no fear! I recognize you as our saviour, an' won't say a word, sir. The retort courteous, as the saying is, would be a crack on the jaw of such a fellow, but I don't say as I'll do it, sir. There's some fellows as needs rippin' up the back, but you bein' captain of this here ship, I won't say who they is, sir. No, sir, I won't say who they is, or nothin'. I just ask that I be sent back aboard the Sovereign. The boat ain't gone yet, and, by the Lord, I'll drown before I get into a ship like this."
"Well, by hookey, you won't, then," snarled the captain; "you'll stay aboard this boat. A man that's born to be hung mustn't be drowned. Hey, there, Rolling," he bawled, looking forward to where I stood, "get out the boat and go with those fellows. Get all the rest afeard to stay aboard, and come back. We won't stay here all day waiting for a lot of fellows too afeard to know what they want."
The noise of the talking brought a female figure to the combings of the companionway, and as the skipper finished, Miss Sackett stood on deck.
The mate of the Sovereign greeted her, and told of her father's determination to stay aboard his ship with three men who desired the chance to make heavy salvage. He didn't suppose any of the crew of the Pirate cared to take chances, but if they did, he would let them. He said he could work the wreck into some port, probably Cape Town, and save her.
"But he will surely be lost," cried Miss Sackett. "I shall go to him myself and persuade him not to do this foolish thing. You will let me go in one of the boats, won't you, Captain Thompson?" she cried, turning to our skipper.
Thompson was sour, but he admired nerve. The fact of the Englishman staying alone aboard his wrecked ship appealed to him where nothing else would.
"My dear madam," said he, with his drawl, "you shall certainly do jest what you want to while I'm captain of this boat. But I wouldn't persuade your father to do anything against his will. How could a sensible fellow refuse you anything, hey?"
The young girl overlooked his insolence, and smiled her satisfaction. She came forward to where the first boat was getting ready to shove off. The men in her were sullen and ugly, for they had not had their breakfast, and the row would be a long one. The old sailor, Jenks, with his pop eyes, and face like the slack of a bellows, scowled sourly. At this moment our third officer came on deck and to the lady's side. I was just about to ask her to wait and go in my boat when I heard the shrill tones of our Mr. Bell.
"Clear that boat, and stand by to pass this lady aboard," said he, with some show of authority, and a clever nautical style. "Allow me?" he continued, as he offered her his arm at the ladder.
His shrill voice caused a smile of wonder and amusement among the strangers, but as they knew their own skipper's daughter, they said nothing besides a few remarks among themselves.
"Won't you wait and have breakfast before you go," he asked her, as she reached the top of the rail; but she refused, and decided that her father's strange whim to stay aboard his sinking ship deserved first consideration.
"In that case I shall have to go along also, for you may be very much exhausted before getting back."
Just what good he could do in such a case he did not stop to explain, but climbed over the side, and after lowering her aboard, took his place beside her in the stern sheets. Then he gave orders to get clear, and the boat shot away, while I made shift to get my men something to eat before taking the long pull.
In fifteen minutes we were ready to start. Chips wanted to go along to see if anything could be done to help stop the leak in case Captain Sackett still insisted staying aboard. Johnson, the little sailor with the thin legs set wide apart, showing daylight between clear to his waist, Hans, the heavy-shouldered Swede, and Phillippi, a squat Dago, made up the rest of the boat's crew. Trunnell had come on deck while we were eating from the mess-kids, and met the skipper on the poop, where he stopped to talk over some important matter. This importance appeared to increase in a moment, for the skipper swore harshly and pointed forward just as my men were coming aft to go over the side.
"Rolling," he cried, "hold on with that boat a minute, and lay aft here,"
I came to the edge of the poop.
"Get that ruffian Andrews ready and put him aboard the Sovereign. The men here are tired of his ways, and fair exchange is no robbery. We'll take their men, they'll take one of ours, hey? Do you rise to that?"
I understood. The men had made it apparent they did not wish to have the fellow aboard since he persisted in his murderous ways. The skipper had been importuned by Jim to turn back and put him ashore. This he would not think of doing, but to propitiate them he had struck upon this new method of getting rid of his charge.
I called Jim, the young landsman, to lend a hand getting the fellow ready. Andrews cursed us all around and demanded to know what we were going to do with him. No attention was paid to him, however, and he was bundled into the boat, handcuffed, with his legs free.
"Tell Captain Sackett I say he's welcome to him," drawled out Thompson, over the poop rail. "Good luck to you, Andrews," he continued; "you'll have a pleasant voyage with no enemies to rip and cut. So long!"
This drew forth a volley of oaths from Andrews, but the skipper smiled, and we were soon out of earshot.
"What do you make of the weather, sir?" asked Jim, who pulled stroke oar. I looked over the smooth, heaving surface of the quiet ocean, and there was not the first sign of a breeze anywhere. The sun was partly obscured in a thick haze which seemed to come from everywhere and fill the entire atmosphere. The first boat was almost aboard the wreck, and we could see her looking like a black speck in the distance.
"It looks as though it might come on thick," I answered Jim, "but there's no danger of our parting company with the Pirate yet. There isn't enough wind to move her a knot an hour."
It was a long, hard pull to the Sovereign and when we arrived her captain was on deck with his daughter. She had finished trying to persuade him to leave his fortune, and stood near our third officer, who was ready to start back with the remainder of the crew. All but four men had insisted on leaving. These were the steward, two quartermasters, and a sailor.
"If there is any valuable stuff in the way of currency or spices, you can turn them over to me, and our captain will give you his receipt for them," I said, as I came over the side.
The little Englishman looked slowly up and down my six feet and more of length as I stood on the rail, and I fancied he smiled slightly. He was a florid-faced, bearded man, with clear blue eyes which had no sign of fear in them.
"I reckon we'll risk taking in what we have," said he; "at the same time I want to thank your captain for standing by and taking the men he has already. You don't think he could spare a few volunteers to help me in, do you? I'll give a hundred pounds to every man who'll stand by and run the risk."
"Well," I stammered, "I'm second mate myself, and therefore can't very well leave; but he's sent you one extra hand. The fellow is a good enough sailor, but he's in irons for fighting. He wants you to take him in exchange for the men you've sent."
The florid face of the English captain grew redder. His blue eyes seemed to draw to small points that pricked my inner consciousness. I suppose I showed some of my embarrassment, for he spoke in a gentler tone than I expected.
"Sir. I keep no one in peril against his wish. Neither do I run a convict ship. You may take your desperado back to your captain with the compliments of Captain Sackett, once of Her Majesty's Naval Reserve, and tell him the laws of his country are sufficient to deal with all persons."
"If I did," I answered, "you would have your men forced back into your wrecked vessel." And I pointed to the main deck, upon which the sea rolled and swashed in little foamy waves through the side ports, which were now below the heave of the swell. She was clear under amidships, and only the topgallant forecastle and poop were out of water, which was now nearly level with the floor in the after cabin. Everything showed wreck and ruin, from the splintered spars and tangled rigging to the yellow-white gaps in her bulwarks where the masts had crashed through.
"The will of the Lord is not to be set aside," he went on, with solemn and pious cheerfulness. "I would not risk so many lives for a man in irons. If, however, he will recognize the laws of the Almighty, I shall turn him adrift and trust that my mercy will not meet with ingratitude. You had better get my men ready, and if you can, take the trunks and cabin fixings in a boat. They might come to wrong here. My daughter will show where the things are I should like saved. As for myself, I shall stay where duty calls me, and will take this ship into some port and save her cargo, or go down in her. If I lose her, I lose my all, and with a wife and family I had better be gone with it. The Lord will temper the wind to the shorn lambs."
I called to Hans and Johnson to pass up the prisoner, and he soon stood on the Sovereign's poop, where he glared around him and made some inaudible remarks. The third mate, who stood near by, was about to speak to him when Captain Sackett stepped forward.
"My man," said he, "your captain has asked me to keep you here and help me work this ship in. You've been a master yourself, they tell me, so you will appreciate my difficulty. The Lord, however, always helps those who help themselves, and with his help we will land this vessel safe in port."
Andrews looked at the stout skipper sourly for a moment. Then he gave a deep snort and spat vulgarly upon the deck at his host's feet.
"What kind o' damn fool have I run up ag'in now, hey?" he mused in a low
tone, as though speaking to himself, while he looked the skipper over.
"Am I dreamin', or do I eternally run up ag'in nautical loonatic asylums?
That's the question."
"My dear fellow, you don't seem to relish the fact that you must serve aboard here," said Sackett. "There's nothing irrational in trying to save a vessel when it's your plain duty to do so. The Lord sometimes dismasts us to try us. We must not give up our duty because we have hardships to encounter. Your captain cannot take care of so many people, probably, and wishes you to stay here with me. If you will pass your word to do your share of the work, as I believe you will, I shall cast off those irons this instant and put you second in command. There will then be five of us, all able-bodied men, to get her in to the Cape."
"Of all the slumgullion I ever had stick in my craw, this beats me," observed the prisoner, in his even tone, without taking his eyes off Sackett. "I pass my word, an' you turn me loose to do my duty. Well—say, old man, can you tell me of a miracle you reads out o' your Bible? I wants to make a comparison." Here he gave a loud snort and grinned. "There's an old sayin' that any port is good in a storm," he went on, "an' likewise any ship in a calm. I rise to it, old man. I'll be your mate; for, if things ain't all gone wrong, I'll sail straight inter Heaven with ye. Cast me loose."
"It shall be done at once," said Sackett. "I shall request, sir," said he, turning to me, "that the irons be stricken off your man."
I told Chips to go ahead and cut them, and then followed Miss Sackett and the third mate below, to get what belongings they wanted sent aboard the Pirate to be kept clear of water.
"It's a pity papa will do this absurd thing," said Miss Sackett, impetuously, as she landed upon the cabin deck. I was following close behind her on the companion and hastened to cheer her.
"There's not much danger," I said; "for the vessel can't possibly sink with all the oil and wood in her. He will probably bring her in all right and save many thousands of dollars. Maybe the carpenter can find the leak and plug it. In that case she'll be as sound as a dollar and safe as a house, when they get her pumped."
"I don't know about it," she answered; "I feel that papa is going to his death, and I know that if mamma finds out he won't leave, she'll come back aboard. Here is one trunk. That chest under the berth is to go also. I'll get what clothes I can gather up, and bring them along in a bundle. Goodness! hear the water slapping about under the deck; it is perfectly dreadful to think of any one staying aboard a ship half sunk like this."
The steward, a very clever-looking young man with a brown mustache, helped us get the things on deck, where they were taken in charge by the rest of the men, seven in number, who were going with us.
While we were below, Chips, after cutting Andrews adrift, tried to find out where the leak was located. The vessel's hold was so full of water, however, that he gave up the search. Only a survey of her bilge outside would help clear up matters, and allow work upon it.
Captain Sackett had taken an observation and had figured himself out to be within six hundred miles of Cape Town. He was very thankful for our kindness and stood near by, wishing us all kinds of good luck, while the things were being lowered over the ship's low side. In a few minutes all hands were called to get into the Pirate's boat, the one of the Sovereign being left for the safety of those on board. Miss Sackett took a tearful farewell of her father, and was placed aft. Then we shoved off, and were soon leaving the half-sunken ship astern.
"Cap'n," said Jenks, who sat aft near me, "what d'ye make o' that?"
He pointed to a white bank of vapor which had rolled up from the southward, and suddenly enveloped the Sovereign while we were still two cable lengths distant. I looked and saw the white mist, which we had not noticed before to be so dense, rolling in long white clouds upon the calm surface of the ocean. In a moment it had enveloped us, and all around us was a white wall, the Pirate disappearing ahead. The swell also appeared to be getting a cross roll to it, and a light air now blew in our faces.
I made no answer to the leather-faced sailor, but tried to keep the boat's head before a heavier roll of the sea, and the wake as much like a straight line as possible. There was no compass in the craft, and it would take some nice guesswork to find a ship three miles away.