CHAPTER XIX. A MAN OF DESTINY
I was picked up and thrown into the brigantine's long-boat with a headand stomach full of salt water, and a heart as light as spray with thejoy of it all. A big, red-bearded man lifted my heels to drain me.
"The mon's deid," said he.
"Dead!" cried I, from the bottom-board. "No more dead than you!"
I turned over so lustily that he dropped my feet, and I sat up,something to his consternation. And they had scarce hooked the ship'sside when I sprang up the sea-ladder, to the great gaping of the boat'screw, and stood with the water running off me in rivulets beforethe captain himself. I shall never forget the look of his face as heregarded my sorry figure.
"Now by Saint Andrew," exclaimed he, "are ye kelpie or pirate?"
"Neither, captain," I replied, smiling as the comical end of it came upto me, "but a young gentleman in misfortune."
"Hoots!" says he, frowning at the grinning half-circle about us, "it'sdaft ye are--"
But there he paused, and took of me a second sizing. How he got at mybirth behind my tangled mat of hair and wringing linsey-woolsey Iknow not to this day. But he dropped his Scotch and merchant-captain'smanner, and was suddenly a French courtier, making me a bow that haddone credit to a Richelieu.
"Your servant, Mr.--"
"Richard Carvel, of Carvel Hall, in his Majesty's province of Maryland."
He seemed sufficiently impressed.
"Your very humble servant, Mr. Carvel. 'Tis in faith a privilege to beable to serve a gentleman."
He bowed me toward his cabin, and then in sharp, quick tones he gavean order to his mate to get under way, and I saw the men turning to thebraces with wonder in their eyes. My own astonishment was as great. Andso, with my clothes sucking to my body and a trail of water behind melike that of a wet walrus, I accompanied the captain aft. His quarterswere indeed a contrast to those of Griggs, being so neat that I pausedat the door for fear of profaning them; but was so courteously bid toenter that I came on again. He summoned a boy from the round house.
"William," said he, "a bottle of my French brandy. And my complimentsto Mr. MacMuir, and ask him for a suit of clothes. You are a larger manthan I, Mr. Carvel," he said to me, "or I would fit you out according toyour station."
I was too overwhelmed to speak. He poured out a liberal three fingersof brandy, and pledged me as handsomely as I had been an admiralcome thither in mine own barge, instead of a ragged lad picked off apiratical slaver, with nothing save my bare word and address. 'Twas thenI had space to note him more particularly. His skin was the rich colourof a well-seasoned ship's bell, and he was of the middle height, owneda slight, graceful figure, tapering down at the waist like a top, whichhad set off a silk coat to perfection and soured the beaus with envy.His movements, however, had all the decision of a man of action and offorce. But his eye it was took possession of me--an unfathomable, darkeye, which bore more toward melancholy than sternness, and yet hadsomething of both. He wore a clean, ruffled shirt, an exceeding neatcoat and breeches of blue broadcloth, with plate burnished buttons, andwhite cotton stockings. Truly, this was a person to make one look twice,and think oftener. Then, as I went to pledge him, I, too, was caught forhis name.
"Paul," said he; "John Paul, of the brigantine John, of Kirkcudbright,in the West India trade."
"Captain Paul--" I began. But my gratitude stuck fast in my throat andflowed out of my eyes. For the thought of the horrors from which hehad saved me for the first time swept over me; his own kind treatmentovercame me, and I blubbered like a child. With that he turned his back.
"Hoots," says he, again, "dinna ye thank me. 'Tis naething to scuttle anest of vermin, but the duty of ilka man who sails the seas." By this,having got the better of his emotion, he added: "And if it has been mygood fortune to save a gentleman, Mr. Carvel, I thank God for it, as youmust."
Save for a slackness inside the leg and in the hips, Macbluir's clothesfitted me well enough, and presently I reappeared in the captain's cabinrigged out in the mate's shore suit of purplish drab, and brass-buckledshoes that came high over the instep, with my hair combed clear andtied with a ribbon behind. I felt at last that I might lay some claim torespectability. And what was my surprise to find Captain Paul buried tohis middle in a great chest, and the place strewn about with laced andbroidered coats and waistcoats, frocks and Newmarkets, like any tailor'sshop in Church Street. So strange they looked in those tropical seasthat he was near to catching me in a laugh as he straightened up. 'Twasthen I noted that he was a younger man than I had taken him for.
"You gentlemen from the southern colonies are too well nourished, byfar," says he; "you are apt to be large of chest and limb. 'Odds bods,Mr. Carvel, it grieves me to see you apparelled like a barber surgeon.If the good Lord had but made you smaller, now," and he sighed, "howwell this skyblue frock had set you off."
"Indeed, I am content, and more, captain," I replied with a smile, "andthankful to be safe amongst friends. Never, I assure you, have I hadless desire for finery."
"Ay," said he, "you may well say that, you who have worn silk all yourlife, and will the rest of it, and we get safe to port. But believe me,sir, the pleasure of seeing one of your face and figure in such a coatas that would not be a small one."
And disregarding my blushes and protests, he held up the watchet bluefrock against me, and it was near fitting me but for my breadth,--theskirts being prodigiously long. I wondered mightily what tailor hadthrust this garment upon him; its fashion was of the old king's time,the cuffs slashed like a sea-officer's uniform, and the shoulders madecarefully round. But other thoughts were running within me then.
"Captain," I cut in, "you are sailing eastward."
"Yes, yes," he answered absently, fingering some Point d'Espagne.
"There is no chance of touching in the colonies?" I persisted.
"Colonies! No," said he, in the same abstraction; "I am making for theSolway, being long overdue. But what think you of this, Mr. Carvel?"
And he held up a wondrous vellum-hole waistcoat of a gone-by vintage,and I saw how futile it were to attempt to lead him, while in thatstate of absorption, to topics which touched my affair. Of a suddenthe significance of what he had said crept over me, the word Solwayrepeating itself in my mind. That firth bordered England itself,and Dorothy was in London! I became reconciled. I had no particle ofobjection to the Solway save the uneasiness my grandfather would comethrough, which was beyond helping. Fate had ordered things well.
Then I fell to applauding, while the captain tried on (for he was notcontent with holding up) another frock of white drab, which, cuffs andpockets, I'll take my oath mounted no less than twenty-four: anotherplain one of pink cut-velvet; tail-coats of silk, heavily broidered withflowers, and satin waistcoats with narrow lace. He took an inconceivableenjoyment out of this parade, discoursing the while, like a noblemanwith nothing but dress in his head, or, perhaps, like a mastercutter,about the turn of this or that lapel, the length from armpit to fold,and the number of button-holes that was proper. And finally he exhibitedwith evident pride a pair of doeskins that buttoned over the calf to beworn with high shoes, which I make sure he would have tried on likewisehad he been offered the slightest encouragement. So he exploited thewhole of his wardrobe, such an unlucky assortment of finery as I neverwish to see again; all of which, however, became him marvellously,though I think he had looked well in anything. I hope I may be forgiventhe perjury I did that day. I wondered greatly that such a foible shouldcrop out in a man of otherwise sound sense and plain ability.
At length, when the last chest was shut again and locked, and I hadexhausted my ingenuity at commendation, and my patience also, he turnedto me as a man come out of a trance.
"Od's fish, Mr. Carvel," he cried, "you will be starved. I had forgotyour state."
I owned that hunger had nigh overcome me, whereupon he became verysolicitous, bade the boy bring in supper at once, and in a short timewe sat down together to the best meal I had seen for a mo
nth. It seemedlike a year. Porridge, and bacon nicely done, and duff and ale, with thesea rushing past the cabin windows as we ate, touched into colour by thesetting sun. Captain Paul did not mess with his mates, not he, andhe gave me to understand that I was to share his cabin, apologizingprofusely for what he was pleased to call poor fare. He would have itthat he, and not I, were receiving favour.
"My dear sir," he said once, "you cannot know what a bit of finery isto me, who has so little chance for the wearing of it. To discuss witha gentleman, a connoisseur (I know a bit of French, Mr. Carvel), is apleasure I do not often come at."
His simplicity in this touched me; it was pathetic.
"How know you I am a gentleman, Captain Paul?" I asked curiously.
"I should lack discernment, sir," he retorted, with some heat, "ifI could not see as much. Breeding shines through sack-cloth, sir.Besides," he continued, in a milder tone, "the look of you is candouritself. Though I have not greatly the advantage of you in age, I haveseen many men, and I know that such a face as yours cannot lie."
Here Mr. Lowrie, the second mate, came in with a report; and I remarkedthat he stood up hat in hand whilst making it, very much as if CaptainPaul commanded a frigate. The captain went to a locker and broughtforth some mellow Madeira, and after the mate had taken a glass of itstanding, he withdrew. Then we lighted pipes and sat very cosey with alanthorn swung between us, and Captain Paul expressed a wish to hear mystory.
I gave him my early history briefly, dwelling but casually uponthe position enjoyed in Maryland by my family; but I spoke of mygrandfather, now turning seventy, gray-haired in the service of Kingand province. The captain was indeed a most sympathetic listener, nowthrowing in a question showing keen Scotch penetration, and anon makinga most ludicrous inquiry as to the dress livery our footmen wore, andwhether Mr. Carvel used outriders when he travelled abroad. This was theother side of the man. As the wine warmed and the pipe soothed, I spokeat length of Grafton and the rector; and when I came to the wretchedcontrivance by which they got me aboard the Black Moll, he was stalkinghither and thither about the cabin, his fists clenched and his voicethick, breaking into Scotch again and vowing that hell were too good forsuch as they.
His indignation, which seemed real and generous, transformed him intoanother man. He showered question after question upon me concerning myuncle and Mr. Allen; declared that he had known many villains, but hadyet to hear of their equals; and finally, cooling a little, gave it ashis judgment that the crime could never be brought home to them. Thiswas my own opinion. He advised me, before we turned in, to "gie theparson a Grunt" as soon as ever I could lay hands upon him.
The John made a good voyage for that season, with fair winds and clearskies for the most part. 'Twas a stout ship and a steady, with generousbreadth of beam, and kept by the master as clean and bright as hisporringer. He was Emperor aboard her. He spelt Command with a large C,and when he inspected, his jacks stood to attention like man-o'-war'smen. The John mounting only four guns, and but two of them ninepounders,I expressed my astonishment that he had dared attack a pirate craft likethe Black Moll, without knowing her condition and armament.
"Richard," says he, impressively, for we had become very friendly, "Iwould close with a thirty-two and she flew that flag. Why, sir, a boldfront is half the battle, using circumspection, of a course. A prettywoman, whatever her airs and quality, is to be carried the same way, anda man ought never to be frightened by appearances."
Sometimes, at our meals, we discussed politics. But he seemed lukewarmupon this subject. He had told me that he had a brother William inVirginia, who was a hot Patriot. The American quarrel seemed to interesthim very little. I should like to underscore this last sentence, mydears, in view of what comes after. What he said on the topic leanedperhaps to the King's side, tho' he was careful to say nothing thatwould give me offence. I was not surprised, for I had made a fairguess of his ambitions. It is only honest to declare that in my soberermoments my estimate of his character suffered. But he was a strangeman,--a genius, as I soon discovered, to rouse the most sluggish natureto enthusiasm.
The joy of sailing is born into some men, and those who are marked forthe sea go down thither like the very streams, to be salted. Whateverthe sign, old Stanwix was not far wrong when he read it upon me, and'twas no great while before I was part and parcel of the ship beneathmy feet, breathing deep with her every motion. What feeling can comparewith that I tasted when the brigantine lay on her side, the silver sprayhurling over the bulwarks and stinging me to life! Or, in the watches,to hear the sea lashing along her strakes in never ending music! Igave MacMuir his shore suit again, and hugely delighted and astonishedCaptain Paul by donning a jacket of Scotch wool and a pair of seaman'sboots, and so became a sailor myself. I had no mind to sit idle thepassage, and the love of it, as I have said, was in me. In a fortnightI went aloft with the best of the watch to reef topsails, and trod afoot-rope without losing head or balance, bent an easing, and could layhand on any lift, brace, sheet, or haulyards in the racks. John Paulhimself taught me to tack and wear ship, and MacMuir to stow a headsail.The craft came to me, as it were, in a hand-gallop.
At first I could make nothing of the crew, not being able to understanda word of their Scotch; but I remarked, from the first, that they weresour and sulky, and given to gathering in knots when the captain orMacMuir had not the deck. For Mr. Lowrie, poor man, they had littlerespect. But they plainly feared the first mate, and John Paul most ofall. Of me their suspicion knew no bounds, and they would give megruff answers, or none, when I spoke to them. These things roused bothcuriosity and foreboding within me.
Many a watch I paced thro' with MacMuir, big and red and kindly, and Iwas not long in letting him know of the interest which Captain Paulhad inspired within me. His own feeling for him was little short ofidolatry. I had surmised much as to the rank of life from which thecaptain had sprung, but my astonishment was great when I was told thatJohn Paul was the son of a poor gardener.
"A gardener's son, Mr. MacMuir!" I repeated.
"Just that," said he, solemnly, "a guid man an' haly' was auld Paul.Unco puir, by reason o' seven bairns. I kennt the daddie weel. I maksma' doubt the captain'll tak ye hame wi' him, syne the mither an'sisters still be i' the cot i' Mr. Craik's croft."
"Tell me, MacMuir," said I, "is not the captain in some trouble?"
For I knew that something, whatever it was, hung heavy on John Paul'smind as we drew nearer Scotland. At times his brow would cloud and hewould fall silent in the midst of a jest. And that night, with the starsjumping and the air biting cold (for we were up in the 40's), and theJohn wish-washing through the seas at three leagues the hour, MacMuirtold me the story of Mungo Maxwell. You may read it for yourselves, mydears, in the life of John Paul Jones.
"Wae's me!" he said, with a heave of his big chest, "I reca' as yestreenthe night Maxwell cam aboord. The sun gaed loon a' bluidy, an' belyvethe morn rose unco mirk an' dreary, wi' bullers (rollers) frae the westlike muckle sowthers (soldiers) wi' white plumes. I tauld the captain'twas a' the faut o' Maxwell. I ne'er cad bide the blellum. Dour an' dinhe was, wi' ae girn like th' auld hornie. But the captain wadna hark tomy rede when I tauld him naught but dool wad cooin o' taking Mungo."
It seemed that John Paul, contrary to MacMuir's advice, had shipped ascarpenter on the voyage out--near seven months since--a man by the nameof Mungo Maxwell. The captain's motive had nothing in it but kindness,and a laudable desire to do a good turn to a playmate of his boyhood. AsMacMuir said, "they had gaed barefit thegither amang the braes." Theman hailed from Kirkbean, John Paul's own parish. But he had withinhim little of the milk of kindness, being in truth a sour and mutinousdevil; and instead of the gratitude he might have shown, he cursed thefate that had placed him under the gardener's son, whom he deemed nobetter than himself. The John had scarce cleared the Solway beforeMaxwell showed signs of impudence and rebellion.
The crew was three-fourths made of Kirkcudbright men who had known themaster from chil
dhood, many of them, indeed, being older than he; theywere mostly jealous of Paul, envious of the command he had attainedto over them, and impatient under the discipline he was ever ready toinflict. 'Tis no light task to enforce obedience from those with whomone has birdnested. But, having more than once felt the weight of hishand, they feared him.
Dissatisfaction among such spreads apace, if a leader is but given; andMaxwell was such a one. His hatred for John Paul knew no bounds, and,having once tasted of his displeasure, he lay awake o' nights schemingto ruin him. And this was the plot: when the Azores should be in thewake, Captain Paul was to be murdered as he paced his quarterdeck in themorning, the two mates clapt into irons, and so brought to submission.And Maxwell, who had no more notion of navigation than a carpentershould, was to take the John to God knows where,--the Guinea coast,most probably. He would have no more navy regulations on a merchantbrigantine, he promised them, nor banyan days, for the matter o' that.
Happily, MacMuir himself discovered the affair on the eve of itsperpetration, overhearing two men talking in the breadroom, and heran to the cabin with the sweat standing out on his forehead. But thecaptain would have none of the precautions he urged; declared he wouldwalk the deck as usual, and vowed he could cope single-handed with adozen cowards like Maxwell. Sure enough, at crowdie-time, the men wereseen coming aft, with Maxwell in the van carrying a bowl, on the pretextof a complaint against the cook.
"John Paul," said MacMuir, with admiration in his voice and gesture,"John Paul wasna feart a pickle, but gaed to the mast, whyles I stanntchittering i' my claes, fearfu' for his life. He teuk the horns fromMungo, priet (tasted) a soup o' the crowdie, an' wi' that he seiz't hauto' the man by baith shouthers ere the blastie (scoundrel) raught for 'sknife. My aith upo't, sir, the lave (rest) o' the batch cowert frae hise'e for a' the wand like thumpit tykes.'"
So ended that mutiny, by the brave act of a brave man. The carpenterwas clapt into irons himself, and given no less of the cat-o'-nine-tailsthan was good for him, and properly discharged at Tobago with such ashad supported him. But he brought Captain Paul before the vice-admiraltycourt of that place, charging him with gross cruelty, and thisproceeding had delayed the brigantine six months from her homewardvoyage, to the great loss of her owners. And tho' at length the captainwas handsomely acquitted, his character suffered unjustly, for therelacked not those who put their own interpretation upon the affair. Hewould most probably lose the brigantine. "He expected as much," saidMacMuir.
"There be mony aboord," he concluded, with a sigh, "as'll muckle gash(gossip) when we win to Kirkcudbright."
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