The mate started up just in time to catch a glimpse of the whale’s back, with the flukes in full play, and a long line of white water behind it. He was going at a tremendous pace straight in the wind’s eye, and, while the mate followed him with his eye, suddenly plunged sheer down where the dazzle was brightest; and before the man could draw a second breath, had disappeared. It was impossible to say what had started him; but the old seamen declared that these large solitary whales always steer a course as duly as a ship; and that, having satisfied himself that the frigate was the Old Ironsides, and nothing else, he was now only making up for lost time, in resuming his course. For my part, I thought it possible that, as he wallowed on his side, or raised his head from the hollow of a swell, his eye might have caught a glimpse of the canvas with the moonlight on it, as he was at one time so close to the ship’s side, that a smart harpooner might have darted an iron into his back from the chains. Be that as it may, off he was, and as Miller turned from gazing on his long dim track, and the stir created by his sudden disappearance sank, an unusual degree of quiet seemed to settle down from aloft, over rigging, spars, boats and batteries, and indeed over every spot of light and shade on the frigate’s deck. In the midst of this you could plainly hear the murmur of voices in the tops, and an occasional flap of the lighter duck, as some loftier sail stirred and was at rest again, like a living thing in a dream—while every shadowy port and silent gun on the spar-deck, appeared for the time, by the soft witchery of moonlight, the abode of peaceful repose.
The fact was, the breeze was gradually failing from aloft, and we were going to have a flat calm, as was easy to see from the hazy look of the sky where the land lay, and the sluggish heaves of the sea, growing shorter and shorter, as if to put us in mind of the far-famed bay to which we were bound; while, as you thought of this, something of the “dolce far niente” came over you, and walking across the deck to glance at the pirate schooner to leeward, it became difficult to connect the view with the stirring scenes of the chase, until the eye, aided by the night-glass, distinguished the ragged white streaks in the side of the prize, and turning round again, you saw the sentry at the dark hatchway, listening, as he shifted arms, to the groans which rose, as it seemed, from the very depths of the ship.
“There were only a few antique-looking dows,” continued the mate, “the grab-brig and one Arab man-of-war moored in the gap where we lay, which, in my opinion—melted out of me, as I may say—is the hottest place in the round world in the same parallel of latitude; being shut in by a wall of glaring granite—two hundred feet high—on one hand, and a rampart of rough rocks—rising high above the Tartar’s royal truck—on the other. You hardly felt a breath of air come on deck when you might; and it really seemed to grow hotter and hotter, as the disease spread in the town; the sky, all the time, like glowing steel by day, and so clear and close at night, that you turned away from the stars and the sickening light of the moon, longing, as you panted for breath, for the least mutter of thunder.
“However, it was some comfort that as yet the disease had not boarded the craft.
“The Tartar was on old ship, as rickety as a county bridge of our grandsires’ times, though having been a regular tea-wagon in her best days, she had known little crowding and banging. There was still a deal of wear and tear in her leewardly black hull, though I couldn’t say much for its model, which was as near like one of those large Pennsylvania wagons as might be, considering that one was rigged for crossing the seas, and the other the mountains. She had a respectable look, however, if it were only for her size, with her ten gun-ports on a side, her high rails, and a whale-boat on each bow, waist and quarter, except the larboard one, where the mate’s had hung. She was well sparred, her standing rigging being entirely new that voyage, and her ground-tackle of the very best. I noticed this from the first, not dreaming at the moment, that I should have greater cause to remember it afterward. She had two cabins between decks, both of which, as I understood, had been occupied by the captain and his deceased wife—the mates sleeping in the house under the poop, while the boat-steerers, as is the custom in these ships, messed in the steerage. The mulatto steward, who had been several voyages with the captain, slung his hammock in the sail-room. Since the unfortunate death of the lady, the after-cabin had been closed, the doors being locked, and the keys, as I was told, in the steward’s possession. The long cabin in which we dined, and which was separated from the steerage by an unusually strong bulk-head partition, had two small sleeping-berths in it, and over each of which was a star of pistols. A number of boarding-pikes and ship’s cutlasses were ranged round the mast, and a double stand of short muskets gave the midship bulk-head—set off as it was with a few krungars[[4]] and Malayan kreeses—a very warlike appearance. In the sail-room, which was partitioned off from the for’ard cabin, were ranged in order, in their sheaths, the instruments used in capturing and cutting up the whale, consisting of harpoons, long steel-headed lances, fluke-spades, two-edged boarding-knives, and heavy cutting-spades, all kept in excellent order. In showing these implements to me, the second-mate remarked that, as their legitimate work was done for that voyage, it was well enough to have them under his eye, particularly as there were several desperate characters in the ship.
“This second mate was an active, stirring young fellow, certainly an exception to the others. From him and the old Kennebunk carpenter, I afterward learned many particulars of the cruise, which were not set down in the log. The former, at first, appeared to regard me with some dislike, which was natural enough; coming unexpectedly, as I did—it was hard to tell from where—between him and the chief officer’s berth, to which, of course, on the mate’s death, he felt himself entitled. It was just as these jealous notions had worn off, and we were beginning to feel fair and above board toward each other, that the captain sent the steward up one evening, after supper, to say that he wished to see me below.
“ ‘Mr. Miller,’ said he, in a low voice, as soon as I followed the mulatto down; ‘there is a friend of yours in the after-cabin, who wishes to see you on particular business.’
“He pointed to the door as he spoke, and observing that it was open, and a light shining within, I entered at once; when, to my surprise, I found my friend, the Arab chief, Halil Ben Hamet, disguised as a fisherman, seated before a table covered with papers; his scimetar and a brace of pistols lying within reach of his hand. He saluted me after the Arab fashion, by taking my hand and placing it on his head; and perceiving that Captain Catherton had followed me in, I stood in silence, awaiting an explanation, which, to say the truth, I dreaded. However, his business with me after all was not exactly what I expected, knowing him to be one of the conspirators.
“It seemed that Halil had already reason to fear spies on his track, and anticipating some treachery which might involve the life of Zuma the Circassian, had made arrangements to remove her from the harem to the ship, on the night fixed for the rise. It was useless to gainsay him in this, as he had already settled the thing with the captain, and I knew that he was strongly attached to the female, for whose sake he had run repeated risks under the very eyes of the eunuch. Moreover, he had saved my life when I was beset by assassins near the old Portugese chapel; and I had been his confidant in his intrigue with Zuma, having more than once kept guard at the foot of the castle-wall, while one of the Sultan’s household, who was in Halil’s interest, had admitted him within a secret gate. Accordingly, as soon as he had opened his plans to me, I readily agreed to be at the small rift of sand under the castle an hour after midnight, on Saturday evening—this being Thursday—for the purpose of bringing off the woman; Halil having, by the help of some of his friends on shore, already arranged matters, so that—even if the plot should fail—the search for Zuma would be diverted in an entirely different direction.
“ ‘But, gentlemen,’ said I, in Arabic, looking at Captain Catherton, who understood something of the language, ‘we must look sharp. That black villain is as cunning as the old serpent himself, where women are concerned. He’ll have the ship searched from truck to kelson, if it were only for the chance of getting me in a scrape—depend upon it.’