Captain Jones walked the deck in deep meditation, while from their various positions his crew watched him with curious glances. The sailors well knew that Daph was still on board, but no one had dared to question the captain’s orders for putting instantly out to sea.
Jeremiah Jones was a thorough republican, when at home in good old Massachusetts; but once on board the Martha Jane, he ruled with the despotic power of the Emperor of all the Russias. His crew were accustomed to submission, and murmuring was never heard among them. They had indeed no cause for discontent, for Captain Jones was just, kind-hearted, and high-principled, and he wisely ruled his little realm.
The good captain had acted upon a sudden impulse, for promptness was required, but now came a time for sober reflection.
“If the darky has not told the truth;” so reasoned he; “what has Jeremiah Jones been doing? He has kidnapped a valuable servant and carried off two children, belonging to a man who has the power and wealth to make said Jeremiah suffer for his madness. The thing has been done publicly, and these fellows of mine may think it for their interest to deliver me up, as soon as I set foot in old Boston!”
These meditations did not seem to increase the peace of mind of the worthy New Englander. He walked the deck impatiently for a few minutes, and then drew near the objects of his anxious thought.
He put aside the canvas curtain, and stood for a moment in the clear moonlight, watching the sleepers. Daph had thrown her arm protectingly round the basket, and curled about it, as if conscious of her charge, even in the deep slumber into which she had fallen. That long, earnest look set the perturbed mind of the captain at rest, and again the unwonted tears filled his large, gray eyes.
A state of indecision could not last long in such a mind as that of Captain Jones, and his usually prompt, authoritative manner suddenly returned to him. He seized a trumpet, and gave a shout of “all hands on deck,” which soon brought his eager crew about him.
In a few words he told Daph’s fearful story, and then throwing aside the awning, he exposed to view the sleeping forms of the negro and the little ones, as he said:
“I have pledged myself to be a friend to those whom God has sent me to take care of, my men, but if there is one among you who doubts that faithful creature’s story, or who is afraid to lend a hand to save those sweet throats from the murdering knives of those black rascals on shore, let him stand out here, and speak for himself. Let him take a boat, and put out for the island, while it is yet in sight. We don’t want him here. He shall have his wages, and bounty too, for the master he serves is likely to give him little comfort in the long run. Speak out, men, will you stand by me, or will you go ashore?”
Every voice joined in the hearty cheer with which the captain’s words were received. Rough hands were stretched out towards him, and he responded to their warm grasp with a hearty shake, as one by one the men came up to give him this token of their determination to help him, in the good deed he had begun.