He leaned close to the mate and whispered—
“They’re running off with the Charles the Second.”
At once Mr. Druit bellowed for the pinnace to be got out, which, of course, merely gave the ruffians their cue. Twenty-six men, laden with their hammocks and sea gear, immediately rushed forth and manned the pinnace.
“Here—here—” cries Mr. Druit, seeing a wicked game going; but the rascals had their oars in the water and made off in the dark, swearing and singing.
Thereupon Captain Humphries, of the James, rushed to the rail and shouted through his speaking-trumpet that his boat was being stolen, to which Mr. Every, likewise through a trumpet, impertinently answered he knew that well enough. So they came to our ship and knotted themselves together with our rascals.
No sooner had the runaways from the James thrown their hammocks to our deck than light sail was set, and we stood out of the harbor, this being the motion which had first brought me a-running from my cabin. At eleven o’clock the topsail was braced back, and we lay to. Mr. Every, who now called himself captain, sent word about the ship that certain ones were free to leave in the pinnace of the James if so they chose. Men of spirit, he said, would stay by the ship and collect their back pay. And he laughed.
V
Right here is the kernel of the case. Did Mr. Every pick the men who should go ashore if they wanted, or was that liberty given to any one? If Mr. Every picked out the people to go, then we who stayed were kept against our wills, and are innocent; if we could have gone and did not, then we are guilty.
We had been acquitted on our first trial for piracy of the ship Gunsway, and I am talking now about our second trial, of which the theft of the Charles the Second was made the charge. Hence the king must prove that we were parties to this latter crime. All the king’s evidence swore that any man might go who would,—except the doctor; all of us prisoners at the bar stuck to it that none could leave but by Mr. Every’s say-so.
And whom did the king call?