He again applied himself to the oar, and was pulling steadily towards the ship, when his eye rested upon something black and round in the water. Again he paused in his exertions, and lay-to: the substance floated towards him. He would have shouted, but—no sailor is ever free from superstitious qualms of one sort or another—he remained silent, fixing his eye steadily upon the object. At last it came close, quite close to the boat; and in another instant, Springall was seated in the prow.
"Good God! Spring, what's the matter? are you mad? Has anything occurred yonder?" exclaimed Dalton, somewhat alarmed.
"Hush!" replied the panting youth; "I can hardly breathe yet." The Skipper was going to pull towards the ship; but the youth laid his hand on that of his master, and ejaculated, "Wait!"
Dalton complied, and when Springall could speak, he communicated what astonished the Buccaneer in no small degree:—He said that, having hunted about for the strange blade to no purpose, he tacked off towards the ship, and told Jeromio his master had found that the boy was no boy, but a girl in disguise; that he therefore desired Jeromio to tell him who she really was, as he had secreted her on ship-board, knowing perfectly well she was neither deaf nor dumb:—That Jeromio said, as the master had fished it up, there was no use in making any bones about the matter; for how it happened was, that when they were lying off St. Vallery, this girl, whom he believed to be a Jewess, offered him a large sum of money if he would secrete her on board, at all events until the ship sailed, and if—after concealment was impossible—he would not betray her. She stipulated to be landed upon the Kentish coast; and Jeromio added, that he was sure she had a design upon the life of somebody, and it might be easily guessed who, as she prevailed on him to show her the use and management of fire-arms, and had, besides, a dagger, which she usually carried in her bosom:—That, as she wrote English very imperfectly, she had bribed him to write a letter to Mistress Cecil, saying that, before God, she was the wife of Sir Willmott Burrell, and that if she (Mistress Cecil) persisted in marrying him, she would be revenged!—That he (Jeromio) kept back this letter, because he feared his hand-writing might eventually lead to a discovery that he had been the means of bringing her to England.—Springall detailed this intelligence in much less time than it has occupied us to repeat it; and then pausing, added,—
"But the worst is yet to come. Jeromio—Master, I was right about that fellow!—had hardly finished this account, when a boat hove out, and, at first, we thought it was you, but presently who should come on board but Sir Willmott Burrell, as large as life! Well, Jeromio was precious frightened, as you may suppose, and said it was to inquire after the Jewess; but he took the Italian into your cabin, and—I can't but own I was vastly anxious to know what they were saying——"
The greatest villain in the world dislikes to be thought a listener, on the same principle that men would rather be accused of crime than cowardice—of vice than folly; poor Springall stopped and stammered until commanded to go on.
"It was a fine day, and, thinking I should like a bath, I let myself down close by the cabin window with a rope. The window was open, and as I hung half in and half out of the water, I could hear every syllable they said, the sea was so calm. Not a word about the Jewess; but that precious villain was listening to a proposal made by the other villain to seize you, this very night, in your own ship, and murder you outright! It's true, master, as I'm alive! Then Jeromio said it would be better to deliver you up, as a rover, to the government; but Sir Willmott made reply, that might answer his purpose, but it would not do for him. Then he promised him a free pardon, and tempted him with the riches of the Crag, and other things;—and, as well as I could understand, they fully agreed upon it. And then, for fear of discovery, I was mounting up, when the rope, as ill-luck would have it, broke, and I went tilt splash into the water! Well, Jeromio looked out, and swore at me; but it mattered not: I scrambled up, resolving, as you may suppose, to keep a good look-out; but that double devil, Sir Willmott, was at it again, and would have it that I was listening, and so I was clapped under hatches; and hard enough I found it to steal off to you."
"The villain!" exclaimed the Buccaneer. "But the thing is impracticable; there are not more than ten or a dozen of her crew ashore: my brave fellows would never see their captain murdered!"
"On what pretext I know not, but he has, during the afternoon, sent the long-boat off with the truest hands aboard. I heard the men talking, as they passed backwards and forwards, that Bill o' Dartmouth, Sailing Jack, Mat Collins, and the Fire-fly rovers, as we used to call them—those boys who had been aboard with you in foreign parts—had gone ashore by your orders; and I know there are five or six—those Martinicos and Sagrinios, and the devil's own O's, that are 'fore and aft in all things with Jeromio. There's no putting faith in any of them, seeing they have a natural antipathy towards us English. So, now, let us put back, sir."
"Put back!" repeated Dalton, casting a look of scorn upon poor Springall; "the man's not born who could make me put back!—The ship's my own—and the sea, the broad sea we look upon, is mine, as long as I have strength to dip an oar in its brine, or wit to box a compass! Avast! avast! boy; you know not what you speak of when you talk to Hugh Dalton of putting back!"