Salt Water: The Sea Life and Adventures of Neil D'Arcy the Midshipman

by William Henry Giles Kingston

She brought up near us, and he went on board. He returned shortly with more animation in his countenance than I had long seen there.

“I have at last notice of the fellow,” he said. “A vessel answering the description of the William was in Smyrna harbour when the brig came out. The crew, by their conduct, seem to have excited some suspicion; and my only fear is that they may find it not safe for them to remain, and will, therefore, take their departure.”

This information put us all in spirits, for we had begun almost to despair of catching the pirate after all. Not a moment was lost in getting under weigh, and in making all sail the schooner could carry.

We had a fair wind, and nothing worthy of note occurred on the passage, till we made the entrance of Smyrna harbour, in the outer port of which we dropped anchor. Mr Vernon then dressed himself like the mate of a merchantman, and with one of our own people, and one of the crew of the Helen, prepared to leave the schooner’s side in the dinghy. Just at the last moment I mustered courage to beg that he would let me accompany him. I had rigged myself in plain clothes, and might, I fancied, have been taken for a steward, or the captain’s son. Mr Vernon considered for a moment.

“Yes, come along, D’Arcy,” said he. “You will not do us any harm in that dress, and your eyes and judgment may be of service.”

I was delighted at the permission I had gained, and eagerly jumped into the boat. Away we then pulled up the harbour, in the lazy fashion of a collier’s crew. We scrutinised narrowly each vessel in our course, but none answered the description of the William. At last John Norris, the seaman from the Helen, exclaimed—

“There, sir, that’s her; inside the barque there. See, she’s got her fore-topsail loosed, and there’s the name of the maker on it—the very thing which first let us know that she was the William.”

To make more sure that the man was not mistaken, we pulled up the harbour a little way, and then touching the shore, so as not to excite the suspicion of the pirates, should they by chance observe us, we passed close by the vessel on our return. There was, I thought, as I watched her, a dark, ill-boding look about her; but that might have been fancy. One man only was to be seen. He was walking the deck, with his hands in his pockets, and occasionally looking over the side. He caught sight of us as we pulled by, and seemed to be watching us narrowly. I felt almost sure that he suspected something was wrong; but probably he had got a habit of scrutinising everything which approached him, as a London pickpocket does when he knows that the police are aware of his course of life. As we dropped past the brig’s quarter, I got a better view of his countenance, and I felt sure that I had seen it before. It was that of a man I supposed to have been hidden long ago, with all his crimes, beneath the waves—no other than Bill Myers. It was a countenance I could not readily forget, after our encounter in the cavern. Then, in spite of all probabilities, he had contrived to escape from the breakers of the Portland Race. I was afraid to look up again, lest he should also recognise me, and give the alarm to his shipmates; indeed, I was not at all satisfied that he had not already suspected our intentions. A small boat was floating astern of the brig. He watched us for some time, as we returned towards the schooner, and as long as I could observe him, he was keeping his eye on us. We lost not a moment, on returning on board, in getting out a merchantman’s long-boat, which we had brought with us. She pulled four oars, and was a large, roomy boat. Besides the hands to pull her, eight of our men were stowed away under a tarpaulin, which was thrown over them, to look exactly as if it were covering up some merchandise. All hands under the tarpaulin were strongly armed, and arms were placed in readiness, stowed away for the use of those who were pulling.

Mr Vernon again changed his dress, and I followed his example, lest Myers—or the man I took for him—might recognise us. With beating hearts we once more left the schooner. We pulled slowly up the harbour, and soon came in sight of the pirate brig. The people, who had probably been at their dinners when we before passed, were now some of them aloft, fitting the rigging, and others working on deck. It required, therefore, careful management on our part to take them by surprise. We pulled up, as if we were going to pass them at some little distance on the starboard side. The men imitated admirably the lubberly, sluggish fashion in which some merchant seamen handle their oars. Just as we were abeam, each of the two men pulling our port oars pretended to catch crabs, and this suddenly brought the boat broadside on to the brig’s side. Before, however, we could hook on, even the hands aloft seemed to suspect that something was not right, and came sliding down the rigging. But notwithstanding this, we were too quick for them, and before they could get below to alarm the rest, the party under the tarpaulin had thrown it off, and we all together sprung up the sides, and attacked every one we encountered. Some fought desperately. One fellow tried to throw himself overboard; but we soon overpowered them, and had them lashed hands and feet. To rush into the cabin was the work of a moment. The door was locked, but we burst it open. The noise made the captain, who was in his hammock, start up. He gazed at us for a moment, wildly and fiercely, and then drawing a pistol from under his pillow, fired it at us. The ball passed close to Mr Vernon’s ear, and buried itself in the bulkhead. With a savage oath, the pirate was drawing out another pistol, when we threw ourselves on him and seized his arms. The weapon went off in the struggle, and very nearly finished my career—the ball actually taking off the rim of my tarpaulin hat. Before he could make any further resistance, three of our people followed us into the cabin, and we soon had him, with his arms lashed behind him, and his feet secured together. While the operation was going on, he glanced at us like a tiger, but did not utter a word. The remaining few of the pirates, who had been asleep forward in their hammocks, had been secured without resistance. I looked round for Myers, or the man I had taken for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Just as we had finished securing Delano, I bethought me that I smelt an unusual sulphurous odour. A dreadful suspicion had seized me. Outside the main cabin was a door, leading to a smaller one. I forced it open, with a strength I did not think myself capable of exerting. I felt that there was not a moment to be lost. On the deck were a couple of casks, and a slow match, burning at one end, communicated with one of them. I cannot say that I thought, and yet I was conscious, that in another moment I and all on board might be blown into eternity. I know not what impulse moved me; but, bending down my mouth, I seized the burning match between my teeth, and, though it much burned my lips and tongue, held it there till it was extinguished. Then, overcome by the excitement of my feelings, I sunk down over one of the casks. There I lay for a moment, almost unconscious of anything. I need scarcely say that the casks were filled with gunpowder. I should have fainted had not Mr Vernon come in, and had me carried on deck.