Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  THE MISSIONARY--SUSPICIONS, SURPRISES, AND SURMISES.

  Sandy Cove was a small settlement inhabited partly by native converts toChristianity, and partly by a few European traders, who, having foundthat the place was in the usual track of South Sea whalers, andfrequently visited by that class of vessels as well as by other ships,had established several stores or trading houses, and had taken up theirpermanent abode there.

  The island was one of those the natives of which were early induced toagree to the introduction of the gospel. At the time of which we write,it was in that transition state which renders the work of the missionaryone of anxiety, toil, and extreme danger, as well as one of love.

  But the Reverend Frederick Mason was a man eminently fitted to fill thepost which he had selected as his sphere of labour. Bold and manly inthe extreme, he was more like a soldier in outward aspect than amissionary. Yet the gentleness of the lamb dwelt in his breast andbeamed in his eye; and to a naturally indomitable and enthusiasticdisposition was added burning zeal in the cause of his beloved Master.

  Six years previous to the opening of our tale, he had come to Sandy Covewith his wife and child, the latter a girl of six years of age at thattime. In one year death bereaved the missionary of his wife, and, aboutthe same time, war broke out in the island between the chiefs who clungto the idolatrous rites and bloody practices peculiar to the inhabitantsof the South Sea islands, and those chiefs who were inclined to favourChristianity. This war continued to rage more or less violently forseveral years, frequently slumbering, sometimes breaking out with suddenviolence, like the fitful eruptions of the still unextinct volcanoes inthose distant regions.

  During all this period of bloodshed and alarms, the missionary stuck tohis post. The obstinacy of hatred was being gradually overcome by thesuperior pertinacity of zeal in a good cause, and the invariablepractice--so incomprehensible to the savage mind--of returning good forevil; the result was, that the Sabbath bell still sent its tinklingsound over the verdant slopes above Sandy Cove, and the hymn of praisestill arose, morning and evening, from the little church, which,composed partly of wood, partly of coral rock, had been erected underthe eye, and, to a large extent, by the hands of the missionary.

  But false friends within the camp were more dangerous and troublesome toMr Mason than avowed enemies without. Some of the European traders,especially, who settled on the island a few years after the missionaryhad made it habitable, were the worst foes he had to contend with.

  In the same vessel that brought the missionary to the island, there camea widow, Mrs Stuart, with her son Henry, then a stout lad of thirteen.The widow was not, however, a member of the missionary's household. Shecame there to settle with her son, who soon built her a rudelyconstructed but sufficiently habitable hut, which, in after years, wasenclosed, and greatly improved; so that it at last assumed thedimensions of a rambling picturesque cottage, whitewashed, brilliant,and neat in its setting of bright green.

  The widow, although not an official assistant to the missionary, wasnevertheless a most efficient one. She taught in his schools, beingfamiliar with the native tongue; and, when the settlement grew innumbers, both of white and black, she became known as the good angel ofthe place--the one who was ever ready with sympathy for the sorrowful,and comfort for the dying. She was fair and fragile, and had beenexceedingly beautiful; but care had stamped his mark deeply in her brow.Neither care nor time, however, could mar the noble outline of her finefeatures, or equal the love that beamed in her gentle eyes.

  The widow was a great mystery to the gossips of Sandy Cove; for thereare gossips even in the most distant isles of the sea! Some men (werefer, of course, to white men) thought that she must have been the wifeof an admiral at least, and had fallen into distressed circumstances,and gone to these islands to hide her poverty. Others said she was afemale Jesuit in disguise, sent there to counteract the preaching of thegospel by the missionary. A few even ventured to hint their opinionthat she was an outlaw, "or something of that sort" and shrewdlysuspected that Mr Mason knew more about her than he was pleased totell. But no one, either by word or look, had ever ventured to expressan opinion of any kind to herself, or in the hearing of her son; thelatter, indeed, displayed such uncommon breadth of shoulders, and suchunusual development of muscle, that it was seldom necessary for him--even in those savage regions and wild times--to display anything else,in order to make men respectful.

  While our three friends were doing justice to the bacon and breadfruitset before them by Widow Stuart, the widow herself was endeavouring torepress some strong feeling, which caused her breast to heave more thanonce, and induced her to turn to some trifling piece of household dutyto conceal her emotion. These symptoms were not lost upon her son,whose suspicions and anger had been aroused by the familiarity ofGascoyne. Making some excuse for leaving the room, towards theconclusion of the meal, he followed his mother to an outhouse, whithershe had gone to fetch some fresh milk.

  "Mother," said Henry, respectfully, yet with an unwonted touch ofsternness in his voice; "there is some mystery connected with this manGascoyne that I feel convinced, you can clear up--"

  "Dear Henry," interrupted the widow, and her cheek grew pale as shespoke, "do not, I beseech you, press me on this subject. I cannot clearit up."

  "Say you _will_ not, mother," answered Henry, in a tone ofdisappointment.

  "I would if I dared," continued the widow. "The time may come when I--"

  "But why not now," urged the youth, hastily. "I am old enough, surely,to be trusted. During the four visits this man has paid to us, I haveobserved a degree of familiarity on his part which no man has a right toexhibit towards you; and which, did I not see that you permit it, no manwould _dare_ to shew. Why do you allow him to call you `Mary?' No oneelse in the settlement does so."

  "He is a very old friend," replied the widow, sadly. "I have known himfrom childhood. We were playmates long ago."

  "Humph! that's some sort of reason, no doubt; but you don't appear tolike him, and his presence always seems to give you pain. Why do yousuffer yourself to be annoyed by him? Only say the word, mother, andI'll kick him out of the house, neck and crop--"

  "Hush, boy; you are too violent."

  "Too violent! Why, it would make a coward violent, to see his mothertormented as you are by this fellow, and not be allowed to put a stop toit. I suspect--"

  "Henry," said the widow, again interrupting her exasperated son, "do youthink your mother would do what is wrong?"

  "Mother," exclaimed the youth, seizing her hand, and kissing her browalmost violently, "I would as soon think that the angels above would dowrong; but I firmly believe that you are suffering wrong to be done _toyou_; and--just listen to the fellow, I do believe he's howling for morebacon at this moment!"

  There could be no doubt whatever about the fact; for just then the deeptones of Gascoyne's voice rang through the cottage, as he reiterated thename of the widow, who hastened away, followed by her son. Henryscarcely took the trouble to conceal the frown that darkened his brow ashe re-entered the apartment where his companions were seated.

  "Why, Mary, your bacon surpasses anything I have tasted for the last sixmonths; let's have another rasher, like a good woman. That mountain airsharpens the appetite amazingly; especially of men who are moreaccustomed to mount the rigging of a ship than the hills on shore. Whatsay you, John Bumpus?"

  John Bumpus could not at that moment say anything, in consequence of hismouth being so full of the bacon referred to, that there was no room fora single word to pass his lips. In the height of his good-humour,however, he did his best by signs to express his entire approval of thewidow's provender, and even _attempted_ to speak. In so doing, hechoked himself, and continued in convulsions for the next five minutes,to the immense delight of the captain, who vowed he had never beforeseen such a blue face in the whole course of his life.

  While this scene was enacting, and ere Jo Bumpus had effec
tually wipedaway the tears from his eyes, and cleared the bacon out of his windpipe,the door opened, and the commander of H.M.S. _Talisman_ entered.

  Edmund Montague was a young man to hold such a responsible position inthe navy; but he was a bold, vigorous little Englishman--a sort ofgentlemanly and well-educated John Bull terrier; of frank address,agreeable manners, and an utterly reckless temperament, which wasqualified and curbed, however, by good sense, and hard-earnedexperience.

  "Good day to you, Mrs Stuart; I trust you will forgive my abruptintrusion, but urgent business must be my excuse. I have called to havea little further conversation with your son, respecting that rascallypirate who has given me so much trouble. If he will have the goodnessto take a short walk with me, I shall be much indebted."

  "By all means," said Henry, rising and putting on his cap.

  "Perhaps," said Gascoyne, as they were about to leave the room, "if thecommander of the _Talisman_ would condescend to take a littleinformation from a stranger, he might learn something to the purposeregarding the pirate Durward; for he it is, I presume, of whom you arein search."

  "I shall be happy to gain information from any source," repliedMontague, eyeing the captain narrowly. "Are you a resident in thisisland?"

  "No, I am not; my home is on the sea, and has been since I was a lad."

  "Ah! you have fallen in with this pirate then on your native ocean, Ifancy, and have disagreeable cause to remember him, perchance," saidMontague, smiling. "Has he given you much trouble?"

  "Ay, that he has," replied Gascoyne, with a sudden scowl of ferocity."No one in these seas has received so much annoyance from him as I have.Any one who could rid them of his presence would do good service to thecause of humanity. But," he added, while a grim smile overspread hishandsome face, "it is said that few vessels can cope with his schoonerin speed, and I can answer for it that he is a bold man, fond offighting, with plenty of reckless cut-throats to back him, and morelikely to give chase to a sloop-of-war than to shew her his heels. Itrust you are well manned and armed, Captain Montague, for this Durwardis a desperate fellow, I assure you."

  The young commander's countenance flushed as he replied, "Your anxietyon my account, sir, is quite uncalled for. Had I nothing but my ownlongboat wherewith to attack this pirate, it would be my duty to do so.I had scarcely expected to find unmanly fears exhibited in one sostalwart in appearance as you are. Perhaps it may relieve you to knowthat I am both well manned and armed. It is not usual for a Britishman-of-war to cruise in distant seas in a less suitable condition toprotect her flag. And yet, methinks, one who has spent so many years ofhis life on salt water might know the difference between a frigate and asloop-of-war."

  "Be not so hasty, young man," answered Gascoyne, gravely; "you are noton your own quarter-deck just now. There ought to be civility betweenstrangers. I may, indeed, be very ignorant of the cut and rig ofBritish war vessels, seeing that I am but a plain trader in seas whereships of war are not often wont to unfurl their flags, but there can beno harm, and there was meant no offence, in warning you to be on yourguard."

  A tinge of sarcasm still lingered in Captain Montague's tone as hereplied, "Well, I thank you for the caution. But to come to the point,what know you of this pirate--this Durward, as he calls himself; thoughI have no doubt he has sailed under so many aliases that he may haveforgotten his real name."

  "I know him to be a villain," replied Gascoyne.

  "That much I know as well as you," said Montague.

  "And yet it is said he takes fits of remorse at times, and would fainchange his way of life if he could," continued Gascoyne.

  "That I might guess," returned the other; "most wicked men have theirseasons of remorse. Can you tell me nothing of him more definite thanthis, friend?"

  "I can tell you that he is the very bane of my existence," saidGascoyne, the angry expression again flitting for a moment across hiscountenance. "He not only pursues and haunts me like my own shadow, buthe gets me into scrapes by passing his schooner for mine when he iscaught."

  The young officer glanced in surprise at the speaker as he uttered thesewords.

  "Indeed," said he, "that is a strange confusion of ideas. So then, thetwo schooners bear so strong a resemblance as to be easily mistaken foreach other?"

  "They are twins. They were built at the same time, from the samemoulds, and were intended for the sandal-wood trade between theseislands and Calcutta, Manilla, and Australia. One of them, the_Avenger_, was seized on her first voyage, by this Durward, then mate ofthe schooner, and has ever since scoured the South Seas as a pirate; theother, named the _Foam_, which I have the misfortune to command, stillcontinues the traffic for which she was originally built."

  "Ha!" exclaimed Montague, turning suddenly round with an inquiring gazeat the stalwart figure of the sandal-wood trader; "it is most fortunatethat I have met with you, Mr Gascoyne. I doubt not that you canconduct me to this vessel of yours, so that I may know the pirate when Ifall in with him. If the two vessels resemble each other so closely, asight of the _Foam_ will be of great service to me in my search afterthe _Avenger_."

  "You are most welcome to a sight of my craft," replied Gascoyne. "Theonly difference between the two is, that the figurehead of the pirate isa griffin's head, painted scarlet, that of my schooner is a female,painted white. There is also a red streak round the sides of thepirate; the hull of the _Foam_ is entirely black."

  "Will you come on board my vessel, and accompany me in one of my boatsto yours?" inquired Montague.

  "That is impossible," replied Gascoyne; "I came here on urgent businesswhich will not brook delay; but my schooner lies on the other side ofthe island; if you pull round, my mate will receive you. You will findhim a most intelligent and hospitable man. He will conduct you over thevessel, and give you all the information you may desire. Meanwhile,"added the captain of the _Foam_, rising and putting on his cap, "I mustbid you adieu."

  "Nay, but you have not yet told me when or where you last saw or heardof this remarkable pirate, who is so clever at representing otherpeople, perhaps I should rather say misrepresenting them," saidMontague, with a meaning smile.

  "I saw him no longer ago than this morning," replied Gascoyne gravely."He is now in these waters, with what intent I know not, unless from hisunnatural delight in persecuting me, or, perhaps, because fate has ledhim into the very jaws of the lion."

  "Humph! he will find that I bite before I roar, if he does get betweenmy teeth," said the young officer.

  "Surely you are mistaken, Gascoyne," interposed Henry Stuart, who, alongwith John Bumpus, had hitherto been silent listeners to the foregoingconversation. "Several of our people have been out fishing among theislands, and have neither seen nor heard of this redoubted pirate."

  "That is possible enough, boy, but I have seen him, nevertheless, and Ishall be much surprised if you do not see and hear more of him than youdesire before many days are out. That villain does not sail the seasfor pastime, you may depend on it."

  As Gascoyne said this, the outer door of the house was burst violentlyopen, and the loud voice of a boy was heard in the porch or shortpassage that intervened between it and the principal apartment of thecottage, shouting wildly--"Ho! hallo! hurrah! I say, Widow Stuart!Henry! here's a business--sich fun! only think, the pirate's turned upat last, and murdered half the niggers in--"

  There was an abrupt stoppage both of the voice and the muscular actionof this juvenile tornado as he threw open the door with a crash, and,instead of the widow or her son, met the gaze of so many strangers. Theboy stood for a few seconds on the threshold, with his curly brown hairdishevelled, and his dark eyes staring in surprise, first at one, thenat another of the party, until at length they alighted on John Bumpus.The mouth, which up to that moment had formed a round O of astonishment,relaxed into a broad grin, and, with sudden energy, exclaimed--

  "_What_ a grampus!"

  Having uttered this complimentary remark, the urchin was about toretreat, whe
n Henry made a sudden dart at him, and caught him by thecollar.

  "Where got you the news, Will Corrie?" said Henry, giving the boy asqueeze with his strong hand.

  "Oh, please, be merciful, Henry, and I'll tell you all about it. But,pray, don't give me over to that grampus," cried the lad, pretending towhimper. "I got the news from a feller, that said he'd got it from afeller, that saw a feller, who said he'd heard a feller tell anotherfeller, that he saw a _black_ feller in the bush, somewhere or other'tween this and the other end o' the island, with a shot hole in hisright arm, running like a cogolampus, with ten pirates in full chase.Ah! oh! have mercy, Henry; really my constitution will break down ifyou--"

  "Silence, you chatter-box, and give me a reasonable account of what youhave heard or seen, if you can."

  The volatile urchin, who might have been about thirteen years of age,became preternaturally grave all of a sudden, and, looking up earnestlyin his questioner's face, said, "Really, Henry, you are becomingunreasonable in your old age, to ask me to give you a reasonable accountof a thing, and at the same time to be silent!"

  "I'll tell you what, Corrie, I'll throttle you if you don't speak," saidHenry.

  "Ah! you _couldn't_," pleaded Corrie in a tone of deep pathos.

  "P'raps," observed John Bumpus, "p'raps if you hand over the younggen'l'm'n to the `grampus,' _he'll_ make him speak."

  On hearing this, the boy set up a howl of affected despair, and sufferedHenry to lead him unresistingly to within a few feet of Bumpus, but,just as he was within an inch of the huge fist of that nautical monster,he suddenly wrenched his collar out of his captor's grasp, darted to thedoor, turned round on the threshold, hit the side of his own nose asounding slap with the forefinger of his right hand, uttered aninexpressively savage yell, vanished from the scene, and,--

  "Like the baseless fabric of a vision, Left not a wreck behind."

  Except the wreck of the milk-saucer of the household cat, whichsagacious creature had wisely taken to flight at the first symptom ofwar.

  The boy was instantly followed by Henry, but so light was his foot, thatthe fastest runner in the settlement had to penetrate the woodsimmediately behind his mother's house for a quarter of a mile before hesucceeded in again laying hold of the refractory lad's collar.

  "What do you mean, Corrie, by such conduct?" said his captor, shakinghim vigorously. "I have half a mind to give you a wallopping."

  "Never do anything by halves, Henry," said the boy mildly. "_I_ neverdo. It's a bad habit; always go the whole length or none. Now that weare alone, I'll give you a reasonable account of what I know, if you'llremove your hand from my collar. You forget that I'm growing, and that,when I am big enough, the day of reckoning between us will surely come!"

  "But why would you not give me the information I want in the house. Thepeople you saw there are as much interested in it as I am."

  "Oh! are they?" returned Corrie with a glance of peculiar meaning;"perhaps they are _more_ interested than you are."

  "How so?"

  "Why, how do I know, and how do you know, that these fellows are notpirates in disguise?"

  "Because," said Henry, "one of them is an old friend--that is, anacquaintance--at least a sort of intimate, who has been many and many atime at our house before, and my mother knows him well. I can't say Ilike him--that is to say, I don't exactly like some of his ways--thoughI don't dislike the man himself."

  "A most unsatisfactory style of reply, Henry, for a man--ah, beg pardon,a boy--of your straightforward character. Which o' the three are youspeaking of--the grampus?"

  "No, the other big handsome-looking fellow."

  "And you're sure you've known him long?" continued the boy, while anexpression of perplexity flitted over his face.

  "Quite sure; why?"

  "Because _I_ have seen you often enough, and your house and your mother,not to mention your cat and your pigs, and hens; but I've never seen_him_ before to-day."

  "That's because he usually comes at night, and seldom stays more than anhour or two."

  "A most uncomfortable style of acquaintance," said Corrie, trying tolook wise, which was an utterly futile effort, seeing that hiscountenance was fat and round, and rosy, and very much the reverse ofphilosophical. "But how do you know that the grampus is not thepirate?"

  "Because he is one of Gascoyne's men."

  "Oh! his name is Gascoyne, is it?--a most piratical name it is.However, since he is your friend, Henry, it's all right; what's tother'sname?"

  "Bumpus--John Bumpus."

  On hearing this, the boy clapped both hands to his sides, expanded hiseyes and mouth, shewed his teeth, and finally gave vent to roars ofuncontrollable laughter, swaying his body about the while as if inagony.

  "Oh, clear!" he cried, after a time, "John Bumpus, ha! ha! ha! what aname!--John Bumpus, ha! ha! the grampus--why, it's magnificent, ha! ha!"and again the boy gave free vent to his merriment, while his companionlooked on with a quiet grin of amusement.

  Presently, Corrie became grave, and said, "But what of the third, thelittle chap, all over gold lace? P'r'aps he's the pirate. He lookedbold enough a'most for anything."

  "Why, you goose, that's the commander of his Britannic Majesty's frigate_Talisman_."

  "Indeed? I hope his Britannic Majesty has many more like him."

  "Plenty more like him. But come, boy; what have you heard of thispirate, and what do you mean about a wounded nigger?"

  "I just mean this," answered the lad, suddenly becoming serious, "thatwhen I was out on the mountain this morning, I thought I would cross theridge, and when I did so, the first thing I saw was a schooner lying inthe bay at the foot of the hill, where you and I have so often gonechasing pigs together; well, being curious to know what sort of a craftshe was, I went down the hill, intendin' to go aboard; but before I'dgot half way through the cocoanut grove, I heard a horrible yell of asavage; so, thinks I, here comes them blackguard pagans again, to attackthe settlement; and before I could hide out of the way, a naked savagealmost ran into my arms. He was sea-green in the face with fright, andblood was running over his right arm.

  "The moment he saw me, instead of splitting me up with his knife andeating me alive, as these fellers are so fond of doin', he gave a start,and another great cry, and doubled on his track like a hare. His crywas answered by a shout from half a dozen sailors, who burst out of thethicket at that moment, and I saw they were in pursuit of him. Down Iwent at once behind a thick bush, and the whole lot o' the blind batspassed right on in full cry, within half an inch of my nose. And Inever saw sich a set o' piratical-looking villains since I was born. Ifelt quite sure that yon schooner is the pirate that has been doing somuch mischief hereabouts, so I came back as fast as my legs could carryme, to tell you what I had seen. There, you have got all that I know ofthe matter now."

  "You are wrong, boy--the schooner you saw is not the pirate, it is the_Foam_. Strange, very strange!" muttered Henry.

  "What's strange," inquired the lad.

  "Not the appearance of the wounded nigger," answered the other; "I canexplain all about him, but the sailors--that puzzles me."

  Henry then related the morning's adventure to his young companion.

  "But," continued he, after detailing all that the reader already knows,"I cannot comprehend how the pirates you speak of could have landedwithout their vessel being in sight; and that nothing is to be seen fromthe mountain tops except the _Talisman_ on the one side of the islandand the _Foam_ on the other, I can vouch for. Boats might lie concealedamong the rocks on the shore, no doubt. But no boats would venture toput ashore with hostile intentions, unless the ship to which theybelonged were within sight. As for the crew of the _Foam_, they areordinary seamen, and not likely to amuse themselves chasing woundedsavages, even if they were allowed to go ashore, which I think is notlikely, for Gascoyne knows well enough, that that side of the island isinhabited by the pagans, who would as soon kill and eat a man as theywould a pig."

 
"Sooner,--the monsters," exclaimed the boy indignantly, for he had, onmore than one occasion, been an eye-witness, of the horrible practice ofcannibalism which prevails, even at the present day, among some of theSouth Sea islanders.

  "There is mystery here," said Henry, starting up, "and the sooner wealarm the people of the settlement, the better. Come, Corrie, we shallreturn to the house and let the British officer hear what you have toldme."

  When the lad had finished relating his adventure to the party, in WidowStuart's cottage, Gascoyne said quietly, "I would advise you, CaptainMontague, to return to your ship and make your preparations forcapturing this pirate, for that he is even now almost within range ofyour guns, I have not the slightest doubt. As to the men appearingpiratical-looking fellows to this boy, I don't wonder at that; most menare wild enough when their blood is up. Some of my own men are assavage to look at as one would desire. But I gave strict orders thismorning, that only a few were to go ashore, and these were to keep wellout of sight of the settlement of the savages. Doubtless, they are allaboard by this time. If you decide upon anything like a hunt among themountains, I can lend you a few hands."

  "Thank you, I may perhaps require some of your hands," said Montague,with a dash of sarcasm in his tone; "meanwhile, since you will notfavour me with your company on board, I shall bid you good afternoon."

  He bowed stiffly, and, leaving the cottage, hastened on board his ship,where the shrill notes of the boatswain's whistle, and the deep hoarsetones of that officer's gruff voice, quickly announced to the people onshore that orders had been promptly given, and were in course of beingas promptly obeyed.

  During the hour that followed these events, the captain of the _Foam_was closeted with Widow Stuart and her son, and the youthful Corrie wasengaged in laying the foundations of a never-to-die friendship with JohnBumpus, or, as that eccentric youngster preferred to style him, JoGrampus.