I now come to that part of the narrative which deals with the turning-point of our luck on this cruise.
Since Renshaw’s leaving left much of the influence to be desired out of the enterprise, Mr. Curtis began to feel anxious about his responsibility in the matter. It is true the gentleman was an outcast from his own people, but he was a nobleman, for all that, and the governor of New Providence would be much influenced by him. It might be necessary to have a friend at hand in case something unpleasant turned up, especially as the laws governing slaves were becoming more and more strict.
The bos’n was suspected in having aided Tim to escape from the barque. At any rate, he was responsible for him. He was an American also, and often when the seaman would come upon the poop, Curtis would find some harsh word to say to him. Afterward he would complain to Howard so bitterly at the bos’n’s insolence that the old captain began to experience some of the landsman’s bad temper.
The discipline of the ship had been good, save for the incidents of the run on the beach. Now the real cruise had begun and there was no more chance for desertion, the strictest laws of a war-ship were easy in comparison to those enforced.
This put much work upon Richards, and began to make unnecessary friction between him and the men. Between the hard feeling caused by Curtis aft, and the steady grumbling of such men as Martin and some of his followers forward, the bos’n began to have an unpleasant time of it, and a most desperate affray was averted on several occasions only by his steadiness and coolness of temper.
One day the bos’n was called to attend to some repairs on the wheel-ropes.
Mr. Curtis saw him, and either inadvertently or deliberately jostled him as he came along the poop. Hawkson saw the affair, and hastened to avert trouble, but was too late. Curtis very foolishly kicked the bos’n savagely and swore at him before all the men of the watch on deck. Richards, true to his creed, lashed out most vigorously, and knocked the landsman half-way across the deck before Hawkson caught him. It was only Hawkson’s steadiness of purpose that prevented a general mix-up on board, for Curtis insisted upon the sailor being flogged. Richards swore he would kill the man who laid hands on him, and, as he had several friends forward, including myself, who would have stood by him, and as he had the chief officer aft, there was a deal of trouble before anything like order prevailed. When the outfly was patched up by Yankee Dan and Sir John, who saw the danger of such affairs, there was no longer anything like smoothness again. The bos’n never attempted to give an order, and went about his duties with a set smile, which I tried to fathom on several occasions and received a cold silence for my pains. Then I knew trouble was coming, and prepared for it, caring little, however, just when and in what shape it would appear.
For a day or two we dragged slowly over the blue water. The royals would pull a bit in the light air, but our wake was not a long one.
On the third day, I was cleaning the forward gun to windward, gazing over the beautiful calm water. To the southward the deepening blue of the sky seemed to show in peculiar contrast to the ocean, and, while I gazed over the vast distance, the water streaked and darkened under the light draughts. The royals came to the masts every now and then, when the breeze died almost entirely, and flapped gently, coming full again as the barque swung herself to windward on the swell.
Miss Allen was on the poop with Mr. Curtis, and that saturnine young man, Hicks, was standing aft gazing at them with an expression far from pleasant upon his handsome face.