CHAPTER XXXIX
RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
Though Carne had made light, in his impatient mood, of the power ofthe blockading fleet, he felt in his heart a sincere respect for itsvigilance and activity. La Liberte (as the unhappy Cheeseman's schoonerwas called within gunshot of France) was glad enough to drop thatpretentious name, and become again the peaceful London Trader, when shefound herself beyond the reach of French batteries. The practice of hercaptain, the lively Charron, was to give a wide berth to any Britishcruiser appearing singly; but whenever more than one hove in sight,to run into the midst of them and dip his flag. From the speed of hisschooner he could always, in a light wind, show a clean pair of heels toany single heavy ship, and he had not yet come across any cutter, brigof war, or light corvette that could collar the Liberte in any sort ofweather. Renaud Charron was a brave young Frenchman, as fair a specimenas could be found, of a truly engaging but not overpowering type,kindly, warm-hearted, full of enterprise, lax of morals (unlesshonour--their veneer--was touched), loving excitement, and capable ofanything, except skulking, or sulking, or running away slowly.
"None of your risky tricks to-night!" said Carne, as he stood on theschooner's deck, in the dusk of the February evening, himself in a darkmood growing darker--for his English blood supplied the elements ofgloom, and he felt a dull pleasure in goading a Frenchman, after beingtrampled on by one of French position. "You will just make straight, asthe tide and shoals allow, for our usual landing-place, set me ashore,and follow me to the old quarters. I have orders to give you, which canbe given only there."
"My commanding officer shall be obeyed," the Frenchman answered, with alight salute and smile, for he was not endowed with the power of hating,or he might have indulged that bad power towards Carne; "but I fear thathe has not found things to his liking."
"What concern is that of yours? Your duty is to carry out my orders, tothe utmost of your ability, and offer opinion when asked for."
The light-hearted Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. "My commandingofficer is right," he said; "but the sea is getting up, and there willbe wind, unless I mistake the arising of the moon. My commanding officerhad better retire, until his commands are needed. He has been knownto feel the effects of high tossing, in spite of his unequalledconstitution. Is it not so, my commander? I ask with deference, andanxiety."
Carne, who liked to have the joke on his side only, swore at the moonand the wind, in clear English, which was shorter and more efficaciousthan French. He longed to say, "Try to keep me out of rough water," buthis pride, and the fear of suggesting the opposite to this sailor wholoved a joke, kept him silent, and he withdrew to his little cuddy,chewing a biscuit, to feed, if it must be so, the approaching malady.
"We shall have some game, and a fine game too," said Renaud Charron tohimself, as he ordered more sail to be made. "Milord gives himself suchmighty airs! We will take him to the cross-run off the Middle Bank,and offer him a basin through the key-hole. To make sea-sick anEnglishman--for, after all, what other is he?--will be a fine piece ofrevenge for fair France."
Widow Shanks had remarked with tender sorrow--more perhaps because sheadmired the young man, and was herself a hearty soul, than from any lossof profit in victualling him--that "he was one of they folk as seems togo about their business, and do their jobs, and keep their skins as fullas other people, without putting nort inside of them." She knew oneof that kind before, and he was shot by the Coast-guard, and when theypostmartyred him, an eel twenty foot long was found inside him, doubledup for all the world like a love-knot. Squire Carne was of too higha family for that; but she would give a week's rent to know what wasinside him.
There was no little justice in these remarks, as is pretty sure to bethe case with all good-natured criticism. The best cook that ever wasroasted cannot get out of a pot more than was put in it; and the weightof a cask, as a general rule, diminishes if the tap is turned, withoutany redress at the bung-hole. Carne ran off his contents too fast,before he had arranged for fresh receipts; and all who have felt whatcomes of that will be able to feel for him in the result.
But a further decrease was in store for him now. As the moon arose, thewind got higher, and chopped round to one point north of west, raising aperkish head-sea, and grinning with white teeth against any flapping ofsails. The schooner was put upon the starboard tack as near to the windas she would lie, bearing so for the French coast more than the English,and making for the Vergoyers, instead of the Varne, as intended. Thiscarried them into wider water, and a long roll from the southwestcrossing the pointed squabble of the strong new wind.
"General," cried Charron, now as merry as a grig, and skipping to thedoor of Carne's close little cabin, about an hour before midnight, "itwould afford us pleasure if you would kindly come on deck and give usthe benefit of your advice. I fear that you are a little confined downhere, and in need of more solid sustenance. My General, arise; there ismuch briskness upon deck, and the waves are dancing beautifully in thefull moon. Two sail are in sight, one upon the weather bow, and theother on the weather quarter. Ah, how superior your sea-words areto ours! If I were born an Englishman, you need not seek far for asuccessor to Nelson, when he gets shot, as he is sure to be before verylong."
"Get out!" muttered Carne, whose troubles were faintly illuminated by asputtering wick. "Get out, you scoundrel, as you love plain English. Godirect to the devil--only let me die in peace."
"All language is excusable in those affected with the malady of thesea," replied the Frenchman, dancing a little to encourage his friend."Behold, if you would get up and do this, you would be as happy insideas I am. But stay--I know what will ease you in an instant, and enableyou to order us right and left. The indefatigable Sherray put a finepiece of fat pork in store before we sailed; I have just had it cooked,for I was almost starving. It floats in brown liquor of the richestorder, such as no Englishman can refuse. Take a sip of pure rum, and youwill enjoy it surely. Say, my brave General, will you come and join me?It will cure any little disquietude down here."
With a pleasant smile Charron laid his hand on the part of his commanderwhich he supposed to be blameable. Carne made an effort to get up andkick him, but fell back with everything whirling around, and all humanstandards inverted. Then the kindly Frenchman tucked him up, for hisface was blue and the chill of exhaustion striking into him. "I wishyou could eat a little bit," said Charron, gently; but Carne gave a pushwith his elbow. "Well, you'll be worse before you are better, as theold women say in your country. But what am I to do about the two Britishships--for they are sure to be British--now in sight?" But Carne turnedhis back, and his black boots dangled from the rim of his bunk as ifthere was nothing in them.
"This is going a little too far," cried Charron; "I must have someorders, my commander. You understand that two English ships aremanifestly bearing down upon us--"
"Let them come and send us to the bottom--the sooner the better," hiscommander groaned, and then raised his limp knuckles with a final effortto stop his poor ears forever.
"But I am not ready to go to the bottom, nor all the other people of ourfourteen hands"--the Frenchman spoke now to himself alone--"neither willI even go to prison. I will do as they do at Springhaven, and doubtlessat every other place in England. I will have my dish of pork, which isnow just crackling--I am capable of smelling it even here--and I willgive some to Sam Polwhele, and we will put heads together over it. Tooutsail friend Englishman is a great delight, and to out-gun him wouldbe still greater; but if we cannot accomplish those, there will be somepleasure of outwitting him."
Renaud Charron was never disposed to make the worst of anything. When hewent upon deck again, to look out while his supper was waiting, he foundno change, except that the wind was freshening and the sea increasing,and the strangers whose company he did not covet seemed waiting for noinvitation. With a light wind he would have had little fear of givingthem the go-by, or on a dark night he might have contrived to slipbetween or away from them. But everyth
ing was against him now. The windwas so strong, blowing nearly half a gale, and threatening to blowa whole one, that he durst not carry much canvas, and the full moon,approaching the meridian now, spread the white sea with a broad flood oflight. He could see that both enemies had descried him, and were actingin concert to cut him off. The ship on his weather bow was a frigate,riding the waves in gallant style, with the wind upon her beam, andtravelling two feet for every one the close-hauled schooner couldaccomplish. If the latter continued her present course, in anotherhalf-league she would be under the port-holes of the frigate.
The other enemy, though further off, was far more difficult toescape. This was a gun-brig, not so very much bigger than La Liberteherself--for gun-brigs in those days were very small craft--and for thatvery reason more dangerous. She bore about two points east of north fromthe greatly persecuted Charron, and was holding on steadily under easysail, neither gaining much upon the chase nor losing.
"Carry on as we are for about ten minutes," said Charron to his mate,Sam Polwhele; "that will give us period to eat our pork. Come, then, mygood friend, let us do it."
Polwhele--as he was called to make believe that he and other hands wereCornishmen, whereas they were Yankees of the sharpest order, owing noallegiance and unhappily no good-will to their grandmother--this man,whose true name was Perkins, gave the needful orders, and followed down.Charron could talk, like many Frenchmen, quite as fast with his mouthfull as empty, and he had a man to talk to who did not require anythingto be said twice to him.
"No fear of me!" was all he said. "You keep out of sight, because ofyour twang. I'll teach them a little good English--better than ever cameout of Cornwall. The best of all English is not to say too much."
The captain and his mate enjoyed their supper, while Carne in thedistance bore the pangs of a malady called bulimus, that is to say, agiant's ravening for victuals, without a babe's power of receiving them.For he was turning the corner of his sickness now, but prostrate andcold as a fallen stalactite.
"Aha! We have done well. We have warmed our wits up. One glass of whatyou call the grog; and then we will play a pleasant game with thoseEnglishmen!" Carne heard him say it, and in his heart hoped that theEnglish would pitch him overboard.
It was high time for those two to finish their supper. The schoonerhad no wheel, but steered--as light craft did then, and longafterwards--with a bulky ash tiller, having iron eyes for lashing it inheavy weather. Three strong men stood by it now, obedient, yet mutteringto one another, for another cable's length would bring them into dangerof being run down by the frigate.
"All clear for stays!" cried Polwhele, under orders from Charron. "Downhelm! Helm's alee! Steady so. Let draw! Easy! easy! There she fills!"And after a few more rapid orders the handy little craft was dashingaway, with the wind abaft the beam, and her head about two points northof east. "Uncommon quick in stays!" cried Polwhele, who had taken to thehelm, and now stood there. "Wonder what Britishers will think of that?"
The British ship soon let him know her opinion, by a roar and a longstreak of smoke blown toward him, as she put up her helm to considerthe case. It was below the dignity of a fine frigate to run after littlesmuggling craft, such as she voted this to be, and a large ship had beensighted from her tops down channel, which might afford her nobler sport.She contented herself with a harmless shot, and leaving the gun-brig topursue the chase, bore away for more important business.
"Nonplussed the big 'un; shall have trouble with the little 'un," saidMaster Polwhele to his captain. "She don't draw half a fathom more thanwe do. No good running inside the shoals. And with this wind, she hasthe foot of us."
"Bear straight for her, and let her board us," Charron answered,pleasantly. "Down with all French hands into the forepart of the hold,and stow the spare foresail over them. Show our last bills of lading,and ask them to trade. You know all about Cheeseman; double his prices.If we make any cash, we'll divide it. Say we are out of our course,through supplying a cruiser that wanted our goods for nothing. I shallkeep out of sight on account of my twang, as you politely call it. Therest I may safely leave to your invention. But if you can get any readyrhino, Sam Polwhele is not the man to neglect it."
"Bully for you!" cried the Yankee, looking at him with more admirationthan he expected ever to entertain for a Frenchman. "There's five tonof cheeses that have been seven voyages, and a hundred firkins of Irishbutter, and five-and-thirty cases of Russian tongues, as old as oldNick, and ne'er a sign of weevil! Lor' no, never a tail of weevil!Skipper, you deserve to go to heaven out of West Street. But how abouthim, down yonder?"
"Captain Carne? Leave him to me to arrange. I shall be ready, if theyintrude. Announce that you have a sick gentleman on board, a passengerafflicted with a foreign illness, and having a foreign physician. MonDieu! It is good. Every Englishman believes that anything foreignwill kill him with a vault. Arrange you the trading, and I will be thedoctor--a German; I can do the German."
"And I can do the trading," the American replied, without any rashself-confidence; "any fool can sell good stuff; but it requireth a goodman to sell bad goods."
The gun-brig bore down on them at a great pace, feeling happy certitudethat she had got a prize--not a very big one, but still worth catching.She saw that the frigate had fired a shot, and believed that it was doneto call her own attention to a matter below that of the frigate. Onshe came, heeling to the lively wind, very beautiful in the moonlight,tossing the dark sea in white showers, and with all her taut canvasarched and gleaming, hovered with the shades of one another.
"Heave to, or we sink you!" cried a mighty voice through a speakingtrumpet, as she luffed a little, bringing her port broadside to bear;and the schooner, which had hoisted British colours, obeyed the commandimmediately. In a very few seconds a boat was manned, and dancing onthe hillocks of the sea; and soon, with some danger and much care, thevisitors stood upon the London Trader's deck, and Sam Polwhele came tomeet them.
"We have no wish to put you to any trouble," said the officer incommand, very quietly, "if you can show that you are what you profess tobe. You sail under British colours; and the name on your stern is LondonTrader. We will soon dismiss you, if you prove that. But appearances arestrongly against you. What has brought you here? And why did you runthe risk of being fired at, instead of submitting to his Majesty's shipMinerva?"
"Because she haven't got any ready money, skipper, and we don't likethree months' bills," said the tall Bostonian, looking loftily at theBritish officer. "Such things is nothing but piracy, and we had betterbe shot at than lose such goods as we carry fresh shipped, and in primecondition. Come and see them, all with Cheeseman's brand, the celebratedCheeseman of Springhaven--name guarantees the quality. But one thing,mind you--no use to hanker after them unless you come provided with theready."
"We don't want your goods; we want you," answered Scudamore, now firstluff of the brig of war Delia, and staring a little with his mild blueeyes at this man's effrontery. "That is to say, our duty is to know allabout you. Produce your papers. Prove where you cleared from last, andwhat you are doing here, some thirty miles south of your course, if youare a genuine British trader."
"Papers all in order, sir. First-chop wafers, as they puts on now, tosave sealing-wax. Charter-party, and all the rest. Last bills of ladingfrom Gravesend, but you mustn't judge our goods by that. Bulk of themfrom St. Mary Axe, where Cheeseman hath freighted from these thirtyyears. If ever you have been at Springhaven, Captain, you'd jump atanything with Cheeseman's brand. But have you brought that little bag ofguineas with you?"
"Once more, we want none of your goods. You might praise them as muchas you liked, if time permitted. Show me to the cabin, and produce yourpapers. After that we shall see what is in the hold."
"Supercargo very ill in best cabin. Plague, or black fever, the Germandoctor says. None of our hands will go near him but myself. But youwon't be like that, will you?"
Less for his own sake than his mother's--who had none but him to hel
pher--Scudamore dreaded especially that class of disease which is nowcalled "zymotic." His father, an eminent physician, had observed andhad written a short work to establish that certain families and typesof constitution lie almost at the mercy of such contagion, and find nomercy from it. And among those families was his own. "Fly, my boy, fly,"he had often said to Blyth, "if you ever come near such subjects."
"Captain, I will fetch them," continued Mr. Polwhele, looking grave athis hesitation. "By good rights they ought to be smoked, I dare say,though I don't hold much with such stuff myself. And the doctor keepsdoing a heap of herbs hot. You can see him, if you just come down thesefew steps. Perhaps you wouldn't mind looking into the hold, to findsomething to suit your judgment--quality combined with low figuresthere--while I go into the infected den, as the cleverest of my chapscalls it. Why, it makes me laugh! I've been in and out, with thisstand-up coat on, fifty times, and you can't smell a flue of it, thoughwonderful strong down there."
Scudamore shuddered, and drew back a little, and then stole a glanceround the corner. He saw a thick smoke, and a figure prostrate, andanother tied up in a long white robe, waving a pan of burning stuff inone hand and a bottle in the other, and plainly conjuring Polwhele tokeep off. Then the latter returned, quite complacently.
"Can't find all of them," he said, presenting a pile of papers bigenough to taint Sahara. "That doctor goes on as bad as opening a coffin.Says he understands it, and I don't. The old figure-head! What does heknow about it?"
"Much more than you do, perhaps," replied Blyth, standing up for theprofession, as he was bound to do. "Perhaps we had better look at theseon deck, if you will bring up your lantern."
"But, Captain, you will have a look at our hold, and make us a bid--weneed not take it, any more than you need to double it--for as prime alot of cheese, and sides of bacon--"
"If your papers are correct, it will not be my duty to meddle with yourcargo. But what are you doing the wrong side of our fleet?"
"Why, that was a bad job. There's no fair trade now, no sort of dealingon the square nohow. We run all this risk of being caught by Crappos onpurpose to supply British ship Gorgeous, soweastern station; and blow metight if I couldn't swear she had been supplied chock-full by a Crappo!Only took ten cheeses and fifteen sides of bacon, though she neverknew nought of our black fever case! But, Captain, sit down here, andoverhaul our flimsies. Not like rags, you know; don't hold plague much."
The young lieutenant compelled himself to discharge his duty ofinspection behind a combing, where the wind was broken; but even so hetook good care to keep on the weather side of the documents; and thedates perhaps flew away to leeward. "They seem all right," he said, "butone thing will save any further trouble to both of us. You belong toSpringhaven. I know most people there. Have you any Springhaven hands onboard?"
"I should think so. Send Tugwell aft; pass the word for Dan Tugwell.Captain, there's a family of that name there--settled as long as we havebeen at Mevagissey. Ah, that sort of thing is a credit to the place, andthe people too, in my opinion."
Dan Tugwell came slowly, and with a heavy step, looking quite unlike thespruce young fisherman whom Scudamore had noticed as first and smartestin the rescue of the stranded Blonde. But he could not doubt that thiswas Dan, the Dan of happier times and thoughts; in whom, without usinghis mind about it, he had felt some likeness to himself. It was not inhis power to glance sharply, because his eyes were kindly open to allthe little incidents of mankind, but he managed to let Dan know thatduty compelled him to be particular. Dan Tugwell touched the slouchedhat upon his head, and stood waiting to know what he was wanted for.
"Daniel," said Scudamore, who could not speak condescendingly to anyone, even from the official point of view, because he felt that everyhonest man was his equal, "are you here of your own accord, as one ofthe crew of this schooner?"
Dan Tugwell had a hazy sense of being put upon an untrue balance. Notby this kind gentleman's words, but through his own proceedings. In hishonest mind he longed to say: "I fear I have been bamboozled. Ihave cast my lot in with these fellows through passion, and in hastyignorance. How I should like to go with you, and fight the French,instead of getting mixed up with a lot of things I can't make out!"
But his equally honest heart said to him: "You have been well treated.You are well paid. You shipped of your own accord. You have no right topeach, even if you had anything to peach of; and all you have seen issome queer trading. None but a sneak would turn against his shipmatesand his ship, when overhauled by the Royal Navy."
Betwixt the two voices, Dan said nothing, but looked at the lieutenantwith that gaze which the receiver takes to mean doubt of his meaning,while the doubt more often is--what to do with it.
"Are you here of your own accord? Do you belong to this schooner of yourown accord? Are you one of this crew, of your own free-will?"
Scudamore rang the changes on his simple question, as he had often beenobliged to do in the Grammar-school at Stonnington, with the slow-wittedboys, who could not, or would not, know the top from the bottom of asign-post. "Do you eat with your eyes?" he had asked them sometimes; andthey had put their thumbs into their mouths to enquire.
"S'pose I am," said Dan at last, assuming stupidity, to coverhesitation; "yes, sir, I come aboard of my own free-will."
"Very well. Then I am glad to find you comfortable. I shall see yourfather next week, perhaps. Shall I give him any message for you?"
"No, sir! For God's sake, don't let him know a word about where youhave seen me. I came away all of a heap, and I don't want one of them tobother about me."
"As you wish, Dan. I shall not say a word about you, until you returnwith your earnings. But if you found the fishing business dull, surelyyou might have come to us, Dan. Any volunteers here for His Majesty'sservice?" Scudamore raised his voice, with the usual question. "Goodpay, good victuals, fine promotion, and prize-money, with the glory offighting for their native country, and provision for life if disabled!"
Not a man came forward, though one man longed to do so; but his senseof honour, whether true or false, forbade him. Dan Tugwell went heavilyback to his work, trying to be certain that it was his duty. But saddoubts arose as he watched the brave boat, lifting over the waves in themoonlight, with loyal arms tugging towards a loyal British ship; and hefelt that he had thrown away his last chance.
Springhaven: A Tale of the Great War Page 39