The man looked at me searchingly for a moment, and then said—
“Well, I suppose when a man is asked a straightforward question the best plan is to give a straightfor’ard answer. So, mister, I don’t mind tellin’ you that I j’ined because I was obliged to; ’twas either that or a walk along a short plank.”
“In fact, you joined merely to save your life,” I suggested.
“Ay; pretty much as you, yourself, may have done,” was the answer.
“I?” I exclaimed. “Surely, my good fellow, you do not mean to say that you imagine me—a naval officer—to have joined this crew of thieves and murderers?”
“Blest if I know, or care,” the fellow answered roughly. “Only, if you’re a naval officer, as you say, and haven’t joined the ‘thieves and murderers,’ as you call ’em, I should like to know how you come to be rigged like a fo’c’s’le Jack?”
I saw that the man was suspicious of me—perhaps thought I was endeavouring, for purposes of espionage, to fathom his real feelings with regard to the service into which he had been pressed; I saw, moreover, that my conjecture was correct, and that, despite his cautious replies, he was by no means satisfied with the arrangement, and so determined to be frank with him at once, tell him what I contemplated, and invite him to join me. As carpenter of the Bangalore he would be an especially valuable acquisition to our party. I accordingly did so; and before I had finished I had the satisfaction of seeing that his suspicions had completely disappeared, and that he was listening to me intently and respectfully. When I had brought my disclosure and proposition to an end, he at once said—
“I’m with you, sir, heart and soul! Anything—even a raft—will be better than this thievin’ and murderin’ hooker and her cut-throat crew! Yes, sir, I’m with you, for life or death. But, please God, it shall be life and not death for all hands of us. Let us get away aboard at once, sir; I’m just longin’ to tread the beauty’s planks again; and as to scuttlin’ her—why, I’ll make it my first business, when I get aboard, to shape out a few plugs and take ’em down into the run with me—that’s the only place where they’ll be able to get at her under-water plankin’—and as soon as they’ve gone I’ll plug up them holes so that she’ll be as tight as a bottle, and never a penny the worse for what little they’re likely to do to her. But it would please me a precious sight better to knock out the brains of whoever dares to go down below to do the scuttlin’ business.”
“No, no,” said I, “that would never do; the man would be missed, a search would be instituted, and heaven only knows what the consequences would be. No, the scuttling must be allowed to proceed, and the pirates must finally leave the ship with the conviction that she is slowly but surely sinking. If all goes well this craft will be out of sight before morning, and then, once clear of them, we shall have leisure to make our plans and carry them out.”
“Right you are, sir, and right it is,” answered Maxwell. “You’ll have to be our skipper now, sir, for poor Capt’n Mason and all three of the mates is gone—one on ’em—Mr King—killed in the scrimmage, and t’others made to walk the plank—so you’ll be the only navigator that we can muster among the lot of us, as well as the ’riginator of this here scheme for gettin’ the better of these here Spaniards, so’ you’re the fittest and properest person to take charge. All that you’ve got to do, sir, is to give your orders, and I’ll answer for it as they’ll be obeyed.”