A Tragedy; and a Narrow Escape.
For the next two or three days Purchas faithfully adhered to his promise to refrain from taking enough liquor to “capsize” him; when, again at midnight, on going below to call him, Leslie found the fellow so completely intoxicated that it was impossible to arouse him; and he had perforce to remain on deck the whole night through. And when at length, at the expiration of the morning watch, he again went below, hoping to find that the man had at all events so far slept off the effects of his over-night debauch as to be capable of coming on deck and sobering himself by taking a douche under the head pump, he discovered, to his intense disgust, that this glib maker of promises had somehow obtained a further supply of rum during the night, and was at that moment in a more helpless state than ever! The brig was, however, by this time within a day’s sail of the equator, where Leslie felt tolerably certain that they would fall in with one or more homeward-bound ships, and so be able to transfer Miss Trevor to safer and more eligible quarters; so he did not allow the incident to worry him greatly. He remained on deck long enough to secure sights for his longitude; and then, turning over the care of the brig to the carpenter—a very steady and trustworthy man—he went below and turned in, giving orders that he was to be called at seven bells; adding, in explanation of Purchas’s non-appearance, that he was not very well.
It seemed that he had been asleep but a few minutes when the carpenter, in pursuance of his instructions, knocked at his cabin door, with the information that seven bells had gone. He accordingly rose, plunged his head into a basin of cold water, and within ten minutes was once more on deck, with Potter’s sextant in his hand, ready to take the sun’s meridian altitude, from which to deduce the latitude.
This done, his calculations completed, and the brig’s position at noon pricked off on the chart, he once more hied him to Purchas’s cabin, only to find the door locked from within. For the moment he felt very strongly inclined to burst his way into the cabin, and haul the man up on deck, drunk or sober; but upon further reflection he realised that by the adoption of such a course he would be irretrievably “giving the man away” to his crew—which it was eminently undesirable to do—so, muttering to himself, “Let the brute drink himself out; he will perhaps be better afterwards!” he entered the main cabin and seated himself at the table, upon which the noonday meal was already spread.
Miss Trevor and he were of course the only persons present, with the exception of the steward, who was waiting upon them; and presently the girl, noticing the absence of Purchas, inquired whether he was ill.
“He is not very well, I am sorry to say,” answered Leslie, briefly; and then he turned the conversation into another channel.
But later on, when the steward had left the cabin, he said to Miss Trevor—
“You were just now inquiring about Purchas; and I told you that he was not very well. That reply, I must now explain to you, was not strictly accurate, but I gave it because the steward was present, and I did not wish to state the actual facts in his presence; for, had I done so, it is certain that he would have carried the news forward to the men, which would have been eminently undesirable. The truth, however, is that Purchas has lately given way to drink, and is at this moment locked in his cabin, helplessly intoxicated. It is a thousand pities; for the man has now an excellent opportunity of confirming himself in the command of this brig, and so establishing himself in the position of ship-master, if he will but make use of it. That, however, is his affair; not ours. My reason for telling you this is, that if the present breeze holds we shall reach the equator by this time to-morrow, at a point where we may hope to fall in with homeward-bound ships; indeed we may meet with them at any moment now; I would therefore advise you to pack up your belongings forthwith, in order that you may be ready to be transferred to the first suitable craft that comes along.”
“Thank you very much for telling me this,” answered the girl. “I shall be more than glad, for many reasons, to once more find myself ‘homeward-bound,’ as I believe you sailors term it. And although, thanks to your never-ceasing kindness and consideration, I have been quite comfortable and happy on board this vessel, it will be a relief to me to leave her, for the memory of that terrible man, Potter, oppresses me. I should think that you, too, will be very glad to get away from a ship that must be fraught, for you, with such unpleasant memories.”
“I shall, indeed,” assented Leslie. “But my deliverance, as I suppose you know, must come later. The misfortune by which I became, most unwillingly, the primary cause of Potter’s death, renders it imperative that I should go on to Valparaiso with this brig, there to surrender myself to the authorities and answer for my action. I do not suppose,” he continued, in answer to the expression of consternation that suddenly leapt into her eyes, “that they will be very hard upon me; Purchas and the whole of the crew can of course testify that I acted under extreme provocation and in self-defence; so that probably, if I have to stand a trial at all, the verdict will be one of ‘misadventure.’”