CHAPTER XIV
HOW I CAME ABOARD THE "FAITHFUL FRIEND"
We followed a roundabout course, now across broad meadows, now treadinggreen cart-tracks, now climbing some grassy upland, anon plunging intothe shadow of lonely wood or coppice until the moon was down, until wasa glimmer of dawn with low-lying mists brimming every grassy hollow andcreeping phantom-like in leafy boskages; until in the east was a glory,warming the grey mist to pink and amber and gold, and the sun,uprising, darted his level beams athwart our way and it was day.
And now from coppice and hedgerow, near and far, was stir and flutter,a whistling and a piping that rose ever louder and swelled to atrilling ecstasy of gladness.
"Hark to 'em--O pal, hark to 'em!" quoth Godby, lifting head to watch alark that soared aloft. "Here's music, Martin, here's cure for themegrims, hope for the downcast and promise o' joys to come. O hark to'em!"
All the day Penfeather led us on by lonely ways, never seeming to wearyand never at a loss, silent for the most part as one in profoundthought, and I speaking little as is my wont, but Godby talked and sangand laughed for the three of us.
It was as we sat outside a little ale-house snugged 'mid trees, eatingof bread and cheese, that Penfeather turned suddenly and gripped my arm:
"Martin," says he, "'twill be plaguy business carrying women aboardship--along o' these lambs o' mine--there's scarce a rogue but cheatsthe gallows with his every breath!"
"Why then, tell her so, Adam, plain and to the point."
"'Twould be vain breath, Martin, I know her too well--and she is aBrandon!"
"A curse on the name!" says I, whereupon Godby choked into his ale,stared in surprise and would fain have questioned me, but meeting myeye, spake no word.
"D'ye know aught of navigation, Martin?" says Adam suddenly.
"No whit, Adam, but I'll handle a boat with any man."
"Ha!" says he, and sat there pinching his chin until, our hunger beingappeased and the ale all drank, we fared on again. So we tramped, andthough our road was long I will here make short work of it and say thatat last we came, very hot and dusty, into the village of Lewisham,where we would fain have baited awhile at the 'Lion and Lamb,' a fairinn; but this Adam would by no means permit, so, leaving the village,we presently turned aside from the main road into a lane verypleasantly shaded by tall trees and bloomy hedgerows, the which (as Ido think) is called Mill Lane. In a while we reached a narrow trackdown which Adam turned, and now as we went I was aware of strangesounds, a confused hubbub growing ever louder until, deep amid thegreen, we espied a lonely tavern before which stood a short, stout manwho alternately wrung his hands in lamentation, mopped at bloody pateand stamped and swore mighty vehement, in the midst of which, chancingto behold Penfeather, he uttered joyful shout and came running.
"Master Penfeather," cried he, "O Master Penfeather, here's finedoings, love my eyes! Here's your rogues a-fighting and a-murdering ofeach other, which is no great matter, but here's them a-wrecking o' myhouse, which is great matter, here's them has broke my head wi' one o'my own pottlepots, which is greater matter, here's me dursen't set ofit i' the place and my wife and maids all of a swound--O MasterPenfeather, here's doings, love my limbs!"
"Ha," says Penfeather, "fighting, are they, Jerry?"
"Like devils, Captain, your rogues and the rogues as my Lord Dering'listed and brought here yesterday--O love my liver--look at yon!" Ashe spoke was a crash of splintered glass and a broken chair hurtledthrough the wide lattice.
"So!" says Adam, striding towards the inn, and I saw a pistol in hishand. Following hard on his heels I entered the inn with him and so tothe scene of the riot.
A long, low room, full of swirling dust, and amid this choking cloud ahuddle of men who fought and struggled fiercely, roaring blasphemy andcurses. Two or three lay twisted among overturned chairs and tables,others had crawled into corners to look to their hurts, while to andfro the battle raged the fiercer. Leaning in the doorway Penfeathersurveyed the combatants with his quick keen glance, and then the hubbubwas drowned by the roar of his long pistol; the thunderous reportseemed to stun the combatants to silence, who, falling apart, turnedone and all to glare at the intruder. And, in this moment ofcomparative silence while all men panted and stared, from Penfeather'sgrim lips there burst a string of blistering sea-oaths such as even Ihad scarce heard till now; for a long minute he reviled them, the smokecurling from his pistol, his black brows knit across glittering eyes,his thin nostrils a-quiver, the scar glowing on his pallid cheek, hisface indeed so changed and evil that I scarce knew him.
"... ye filthy scum, ye lousy sons o' dogs!" he ended. "Ha, will yefight agin my orders, then--mutiny is it?"
"And who a plague are you and be cursed to ye!" panted a great fellow,flourishing a broken chair-leg threateningly and scowling in murderousfashion.
"He'll tell ye--there, behind ye, fool!" snarled Penfeather, pointingsinewy finger. The big man turned, Penfeather sprang with upliftedpistol and smote him, stunned and bleeding, to the floor, thenbestriding the prostrate carcass, fronted the rest with head viciouslyout-thrust.
"And who's next--come!" says he softly, scowling from one to other ofthe shrinking company. "You, Amos Penarth, and you, Richard Farnaby,aye and half a dozen others o' ye, you've sailed wi' me ere now and youknow when I say a thing I mean it. And you'd fight, would ye, my lastwords to you being 'see to it there be no quarrelling or riot.'"
"Why, Cap'n," says one, "'tis all along o' these new 'listed rogues--"
"Aye, master," says another, "and that's gospel-true, theer aren't aright sailor-man among 'em--"
"Then we'll learn 'em to be!" says Penfeather. "Stand forward the newmen--show a leg and bustle, ye dogs!" Scowling and muttering, sometwelve unlovely fellows obeyed. "I' faith!" says Penfeather, lookingthem over, "Here's fine stuff for the gallows! And where's the rest of'em?"
"Gone aboard this morning along o' Toby Hudd the bo's'un!"
"See here, my bright lads," quoth Penfeather, eyeing each scowling facein turn, "learn this--when you come aboard my ship and I say to one o'ye do this or do that, he does it, d'ye see, or--up to the yard-arm heswings by his thumbs or his neck as occasion warrants. D'ye get me, mybully roarers?"
Not a man of them spake a word, but all stood shifting uneasily beneathPenfeather's quick bright eye, shuffling their feet and casting furtiveglances on their fellows.
"Now as to this lump o' roguery," says Penfeather, spurning the stillunconscious man with his foot, "have him into the yard and heave abucket o' water over him. As to you, Farnaby, muster the hands, andstand by to go aboard in half an hour--every unhung rascal."
Without we came on the misfortunate landlord still in the deeps ofgloom, but upon Adam's assurance that all damages should be made good,he brought us up a pair of stairs to a fair chamber and there served usa most excellent meal.
Scarce had we risen from table than comes the man Penarth a-knocking,cap in hand, to say the men stood ready to go aboard. We found somescore fellows drawn up before the inn, and a desperate lot ofcut-throats they looked, what with their hurts and general hang-dog airas they stood there in the light of a rising moon. Having looked themover each and every, Penfeather spat, and setting them in Godby'scharge, ordered them to go on before.
"Well, Martin," says he as we followed together, "and how think ye ofmy lambs?"
"Call them raging tigers, rather--"
"Nay," says he, "tigers be cleanly creatures, I've heard."
"'A God's name, Adam, why truck with such ill rogues? Sure there bemany honest mariners to be had?"
"Why as to that, Martin, good men be scarce and ever hard to comeby--moreover these scum are a means to an end, d'ye see?"
"How so?"
"Just that, Martin," says he, glancing at me in his furtive manner, "ameans to an end."
"What end?"
"Ah, who may tell, Martin?" he sighed, shaking his head. Now when Iwould have questioned him further he put me off thus with
side answers,until we were come to the waterside, which is called Deptford Creek.Here, having seen the others safe embarked we took boat also, and weresoon rowing between the huge bulk of ships where dim lights burned andwhence came, ever and anon, the sound of voices, the rattle of ahawser, a snatch of song and the like, as we paddled betwixt the vasthulls. Presently we were beneath the towering stern of a great ship,and glancing up at this lofty structure, brave with carved-work andgilding, I read the name,
THE FAITHFULL FRIEND.
At a word from Adam the oars were unshipped and we glided alongside herhigh-curving side where hung a ladder, up which I followed Adamforthwith. She was a great ship (as I say) of some two hundred tons atleast, with high forecastle and lofty stern, though I saw little elseere, at a sign from Adam I followed him down the after-gangway where,taking a flickering lanthorn that hung from a deck-beam, he led me'twixt a clutter of stores not yet stowed, past the grim shapes ofgreat ordnance, and so down and down to a noisome place beneath theorlop.
"'Tis not over sweet, Martin," says he, "but then bilge-water never is,you'll mind. But you'll grow used to it in time, shipmate, unless,instead o' swallowing this unholy reek you'll swallow your pride and'list as master's mate."
"I've no knowledge of navigation," says I.
"But I've enough for the two of us, Martin. 'Tis a comrade at my backI need. What's the word?"
"No!" says I, mighty short.
"As you will, shipmate," he sighed, "as you will. Pride andbilge-water go well together!" which said he brought me to a darkunlovely hole abaft the mizzen. "'Tis none too clean, Martin," sayshe, casting the light round the dingy place, "but that shall beremedied and Godby shall bring ye bedding and the like, so although'tis plaguy dark and wi' rats a-plenty still, despite the stench,you'll lie snug as your pride will permit of. As for me, shipmate, Ishall scarce close an eye till we be clear o' the Downs, so 'tis acare-full man I shall be this next two days, heigho! So good-night,Martin, I'll send Godby below with all you lack."
Saying which Penfeather turned, and groping his way into the darkness,left me scowling at the flickering lanthorn.
Black Bartlemy's Treasure Page 15