CHAPTER IV.
TWO NARROW ESCAPES.
"Another Cuban trader," shouted Captain Beardsley, standing erect uponthe crosstrees and shaking his eye-glass in the air. "She's worth doublewhat the _Hollins_ was, dog-gone it all, and if we lose her we are justa hundred thousand dollars out of pocket. Pitch that shell into her,Tierney. Take a stick out of her and I'll double your prize money. Runup our own flag, Marcy. May be it will bring him to his senses."
The howitzer's crew sprang at the word. The canvas covering was torn offthe gun and cast aside, the train-tackles were manned, and a minuteafterward a fifteen-second shrapnel went shrieking toward the brig, allthe privateer's men standing on tiptoe to watch the effect of the shot.To Marcy's great delight the missile struck the water far short of themark, _ricocheted_ along the surface a few hundred yards farther, andfinally exploded, throwing up a cloud of spray, but doing no harm to thebrig, which never loosened tack or sheet, but held gallantly on her way.A moment after the shrapnel exploded, her flag--the old flag--flutteredout from under the lee of her spanker, and little puffs of smoke arosefrom her port quarter. Some of her crew were firing at the privateerwith rifles. Of course, the distance was so great that they never heardthe whistle of the bullet, but it was an act of defiance that droveCaptain Beardsley almost frantic.
"When we catch her I'll hang the men who fired those shots," he shouted,jumping up and down on his lofty perch. "What are you standing theregaping at, Tierney? Give that gun more elevation and try her again."
"I had her up to the last notch in the rear sight, sir," repliedTierney. "I can't give the gun any more elevation. The cascabel is downto the bottom of the screw now. I can't reach the brig into an eighth ofa mile."
"Try her again, I tell you," roared the enraged captain. "Are you goingto stand chinning there while a hundred thousand dollars slips throughour fingers?"
The captain continued to talk in this way while the howitzer was loadedand trained for the second shot; but he might as well have saved hisammunition, for this shrapnel, like the first, did no harm to the brig.It didn't frighten her company, either, for they set up a derisive yell,which came faintly to the ears of the privateer's crew.
"Oh, how I'd like to get my hands on that fellow!" shouted CaptainBeardsley. "I'd learn him to insult a Confederate government vessel.I'd----"
Marcy Gray, who stood holding fast to the halliards, looking aloft andlistening to what Beardsley had to say, saw the lookout, who hadremained at his post all this time, touch the captain on the shoulderand direct his gaze toward something in the horizon. Marcy looked, too,and was electrified to see a thick, black smoke floating up among theclouds. Could it be that there was a cruiser off there bearing down uponthem? He looked at Captain Beardsley again, and came to the conclusionthat there must be something suspicious about the stranger, for thecaptain, after gazing at the smoke through his glass, squared around andbacked down from aloft with much more celerity than Marcy ever saw himexhibit before.
"It is a cruiser," thought the young pilot, when the captain assumedcharge of the deck and ordered the schooner to be put about and headedtoward Crooked Inlet. "She has heard the sound of our guns and is comingup to see what is the matter."
Marcy couldn't decide whether the captain's pale face and excited,nervous manner were occasioned by the fears that had been conjured up bythe sudden appearance of that strange vessel in the offing, or by therage and disappointment he felt over the loss of the valuable prize hehad so confidently expected to capture. He hauled down the schooner'sflag, packed it away in the chest where it was usually kept, and thenhad leisure to take a look at the crew. Could they be the same men whohad so valiantly fired into that unarmed brig a short half hour before?
"It _is_ a cruiser," repeated Marcy, turning to the side to conceal thelook of exultation which he knew the thought brought to his face. "Itcan't be anything else, for the whole ship's company are scared out oftheir boots. We were so busy with the brig that we never saw her untilshe got so close on to us that she is liable to cut us off from theInlet. If she comes within range of us Captain Beardsley will find thatthere is a heap of difference between shooting and being shot at. Ihope----"
Marcy was about to add that he hoped the on-coming war ship would eithercapture or sink the _Osprey_, and so put a stop to her piratical career;but if she did, what would become of him? If one of those big shellscame crashing into the schooner, it would be as likely to hit him asanybody else, and if the privateer were cut off from the Inlet andcaptured, he would be taken prisoner with the rest of the crew and sentto some Northern prison. Of course, Marcy could not make the captain ofthe war ship believe that he did not ship on the privateer of his ownfree will, and that he was strong for the Union; and indeed it would bedangerous for him to try, for the folks at home would be sure to hear ofit sooner or later, and then what would happen to his mother? As theyoung pilot turned these thoughts over in his mind, he came to theconclusion that he would feel a little safer if he knew that theschooner would reach the Inlet in advance of the steamer, but he wasobliged to confess that it looked doubtful. She was coming up rapidly,land was a long way off, and it would be many hours before darkness cameto their aid.
"That rain squall out there is our only salvation," Marcy heard thecaptain say to one of the mates. "When it comes up we'll haul our windand run for Hatteras. The cruiser will hold straight on her course, andif the squall lasts long enough we may be able to run her out ofsight."
Although Captain Beardsley was frightened at the prospect of fallinginto the hands of those whose flag he had insulted, he did not lose hishead. The plan he had suddenly adopted for eluding the steamer provedthat he could take desperate chances when it was necessary. By haulinghis wind (which in this case meant shaping the schooner's course as nearas possible toward the point from which the wind was blowing), he wouldbe compelled to pass within a few miles of the steamer, and if therain-cloud, under cover of which he hoped to escape, lifted for thespace of one short minute, he was almost certain to be discovered. Thesquall came up directly behind the steamer, and in about half an hourovertook and shut her out from view.
"Now's our time," exclaimed Beardsley. "Flatten in the fore and mainsails and give a strong pull at the headsail sheets. Tierney, go to thewheel."
Marcy lent a hand, and while the orders were being obeyed was gratifiedto hear one of the crew remark that the squall was something more than asquall; that it was coming to stay, and that they would be lucky if theysaw the end of it by sunrise the next morning. If that proved to be thecase they would have nothing to fear from the steamer. All they wouldhave to look out for was shipwreck.
Half an hour was all the time that was necessary to prove that thesailor knew what he was talking about. The wind blew a gale and the rainfell in torrents. Just before the storm reached them, Captain Beardsleythought it would be wise to shorten his canvas, but all he took in werethe gaff-topsails and fore-topmast staysail. Shortly afterward it becamenecessary to reef the sails that were left, and when that had been donethe captain declared that he wouldn't take in anything else, even if heknew that the wind would take the sticks out of the schooner by theroots. He would rather be wrecked than go to prison any day.
Things could not have worked more to Beardsley's satisfaction if he hadhad the planning of the storm himself. The privateer's crew never sawthe steamer after the rain and mist shut her out from view; and when thesun arose the next morning, after the wildest night Marcy Gray everexperienced on the water, there was not a sail in sight.
"I wish it was safe for us to stand out and try our luck again," saidCaptain Beardsley, who had been aloft sweeping the horizon with hisglass. "But the Yankee war ships are getting too thick for comfort."
"Don't you expect to find some of them about Hatteras?" inquired Marcy.
"Of course I do. I believe the one that was chasing us yesterday camefrom there, and that that brig we lost held some communication with herbefo
re she sighted us. If she hadn't been warned by somebody, what wasthe reason she began dodging the minute she saw us? I hope to slip inbetween them, or at least to get under the protection of the guns of theforts at the Inlet before any of the cruisers can come within range.Privateering is played out along this coast. As soon as we get into portI shall tear out the bunks below, reduce my crew, and go to blockaderunning."
"But you'll run the same risk of capture that you do now," Marcyreminded him.
"But I won't be captured with guns aboard of me," said Beardsley, with awink that doubtless meant a great deal. "Perhaps you don't know it, butI gave orders, in case that steamer sighted us again, to throweverything in the shape of guns and ammunition overboard. Then theycouldn't have proved a thing against us."
"The size of your crew would have laid you open to suspicion," repliedMarcy.
"Yes; but suspicion and proof are two different things," was thecaptain's answer. "But I am afraid of them howitzers, all the same, andam going to get shet of them the minute we get to Newbern. I don'treckon I can give you a furlong to go home this time, 'cause it won'ttake two days to get the schooner ready to take out a load of cotton."
"But you'll not need a pilot any longer," said Marcy, who was very muchdisappointed.
"What's the reason I won't? Do you reckon I'm going to run out ofHatteras in the face of all the war ships that are fooling around here?Not much. And I'm not going to hug the coast, neither. I'll make CrookedInlet my point of departure, like I always have done, and then I'llstand straight out to sea till I get outside the cruisers' beat. See?Then I'll shape my course for Nassau. It'll give us a heap of bother andwe'll go miles out of our way; but we'll be safe."
"But suppose we are captured after all your precautions; what then?"
"Well, if we are we'll lose our vessel and be sent to jail; but we'llnot be treated as pirates, don't you see? The Northern folks are awfulmad 'cause our President has issued letters of mark-we and reprisal, andtheir papers demand that every one of us who is taken shall be hung tothe yardarm. To tell you the honest truth, that kinder scared me, andthat's one reason why I want to get out of the business ofprivateering."
"And you think you will still need a pilot?"
"Can't you see it for yourself from what I have told you?" askedBeardsley, in reply. "And, Marcy, you'll make more money with less riskthan you do in this business. It ain't to be expected that men will runthe risk of going to jail for regular foremast hands' wages. They wantmore money, and it's right that they should have it. Why, themblockade-runners I told you about paid their hands five hundred dollarsapiece for the run to Nassau and back. What do you think of that?"
"I think it is good wages," replied Marcy. ["If the business was onlysafe and honorable," he added, to himself.]
"Of course it is good wages. I don't expect to get a crew for any less;but, as I said before, I'll do the fair thing by you. If you go home youwill have to enlist--I've heard the folks say that everybody had got toshow his hand one way or the other--and then you would get only twelveor thirteen dollars a month. Think of that!"
Marcy was right when he told himself that the captain had him fast, andthat there was no release for him as long as the _Osprey_ remained incommission. It was a gloomy outlook, but the only thing he could do wasto make the best of it.
As soon as the captain thought it safe to do so every inch of theprivateer's canvas was given to the breeze, and she made good headwaytoward her destination. That day and the ensuing night passed withoutexcitement of any sort, and at sunrise the next morning two objects werein plain sight from the schooner's deck. One was the entrance toHatteras Inlet, and the other was a large steamer in the offing. The twovessels had been in view of each other ever since daylight. They wereboth headed for the same point--one making the most desperate efforts toplace herself under cover of the guns of the forts, and the other makingequally desperate efforts to bring the schooner within range of herbow-chaser before she could get there. It was a close and exciting race,and the crews of both vessels watched it anxiously. The black smokerolled in thick clouds from the steamer's funnels, and the privateer'stopmasts snapped and bent like fishing-rods, while her white-facedcaptain paced his quarter-deck, dividing his attention between hisimperilled top-hamper and the pursuing steamer, and rubbing his handsnervously. At last the climax came. A puff of white smoke arose from thesteamer's bow, and a shell from an old-fashioned smooth-bore thirty-twopounder dropped into the water about half way between her and the flyingschooner. If that same steamer had had for a bow-chaser the heavy rifledgun she had a few months later, the result would have been different. Asit was, Captain Beardsley gathered courage, and the anxious look lefthis face.
"If that's the best he can do we're all right," said he gleefully. "Ifthis breeze holds half an hour longer we'll show him our flag."
"Shall we give him an answer from one of the howitzers, sir?" inquiredTierney.
"Not for your life!" replied Beardsley, quickly. And then he added in alower tone, addressing himself to Marcy, who stood near, "That would bea bright idea, wouldn't it? This breeze may die away any minute, and wedon't want to do anything to make them Yankees madder at us than they benow. Another thing, we mustn't give 'em anything to remember thisschooner by. We may be caught when we try to run the blockade with ourcargo of cotton, and we don't want anybody to recall the fact that weonce had guns aboard. See?"
It was a long time before Marcy Gray could make up his mind how thechase was going to end, although he noticed when it first began thatthere were two things in the schooner's favor. One was that she was sofar out of range that her pursuer could not cripple her, and the otherwas, that the wind that was favorable to her was unfavorable to thesteamer, so that the latter could not use her sails. He also took noteof the fact that Beardsley hugged the shore pretty closely, and thismade it evident that he intended to beach the schooner rather thanpermit her to fall into the hands of the Yankees. But he was not drivento such extremity. The breeze held out, and although the steamercontinued to fire her bow-chaser at intervals, the privateer rounded thepoint unharmed; while the pursuer, not caring to trust herself withinrange of the rifled guns on shore, veered around and stood out to sea. Alook through his glass showed Beardsley that the half-finished batterieshad been manned in readiness to give the war ship a warm reception ifshe had ventured to follow the privateer through the Inlet.
"Marcy, run up the flag so that our friends in the forts can see who weare!" commanded Beardsley. "The last time we sailed through here we hada prize following in our wake, and we would have had a more valuable oneto-day if that brig hadn't been warned by them Yankees outside."
The Confederate emblem proved to be as good as a countersign, andCaptain Beardsley was permitted to sail on through the Inlet withoutgoing ashore to give an account of himself. As soon as he was safeinside the bar he directed his course toward Newbern, which he reachedwithout any more adventures; but there were no cheers to greet him ashis schooner was pulled into the wharf. Beardsley's agent, who was thefirst to spring over the rail, looked very much disgusted.
"Why, Captain, how is this?" were the first words he uttered. "I didn'texpect to see you come back empty handed."
"No more did I expect to come back that way," was the captain's reply."But we can't always have luck on our side. There is too many cruisersout there."
"Did you see any of them?"
"Well, I reckon. We had a race with two of them, and I ain't goingprivateering no more."
"Scared out, are you?" said the agent, with some contempt in his tones."Well, it may interest you to know that while you were fooling aroundout there, doing nothing, we have fought the battle that will bring usour independence."
"_You_ did?" exclaimed Beardsley, who knew that the agent thought he hadplayed the part of a coward in making such haste to get back to port."You didn't have nary hand in it. You stay around home, yelling for theConfederacy, and flinging your slurs at we uns who have been under thefire of a Yankee war ship,
but you ain't got the pluck to go into theservice yourself. We didn't see but one merchantman while we was goneand she was a brig; and as she carried three times the canvas we did shehad the heels of us, and besides she wouldn't let us come within range.It was all we wanted to do to get into Hatteras, on account of thecruiser that fired on us. What battle was it that gained us ourindependence?"
"Bull Run," replied the agent.
"Where's that?"
"Somewhere up in Virginia. We had thirty-five thousand men and theYankees more than twice as many; but we threw them into a panic and runthem clear into Washington. I expect our army has got the city by thistime."
"I didn't think the Yankees would fight," said the captain reflectively."Then the war is just as good as over."
"That's what the Richmond papers say."
"And it won't be no use for me to go blockade running?"
"Oh, yes it will. Peace hasn't been declared yet, and you had bettermake money at something while you can. After all, I don't know that Iblame you for coming back. We've lost two blockade-runners and oneprivateer since you went out."
"There, now"; exclaimed Beardsley. "And I'd have lost my own vessel if Ihadn't had the best of luck. What you sneering at me for?"
"Well, you see you were safe outside, and I was sure you would come backwith a prize. I was disappointed when I saw you coming up the riveralone."
"Not more disappointed than I was myself," answered the captain. "Thatbrig was worth a power of money, and I might have been chasing her yetif that man-of-war hadn't hove in sight."
This was all the conversation Marcy overheard between Beardsley and hisagent, for the two drew off on one side and talked earnestly in tones solow that he could not catch a word they said. It was plain that theycame to an understanding on some point, for shortly afterward they wentinto the cabin, and Marcy was commanded to station himself at the headof the companion ladder and pass the word for the crew as fast as theirnames were called. He could see that the schooner's books and papers hadbeen placed upon the cabin table, and that led him to believe that thereduction of the crew was to begin immediately. When the first man whowas sent below came on deck again with his wages in his hand, Marcywhispered:
"What did the captain say when he paid you off B+"
"He didn't say he was gallied," replied the sailor, with a knowing look,"but I'll bet he is. The booming of that war ship's guns was too muchfor his nerves, and he's going to quit pirating and go to blockaderunning. I don't see but that one is about as dangerous as the other."One by one the members of the crew were sent into the cabin, and as fastas they received their money and their discharges they bundled up theirclothes and bedding and went ashore. At last there were only sixforemast hands left, including Marcy Gray, and these were summoned intothe cabin in a body to listen to what Captain Beardsley had to proposeto them. He began with the statement that privateering was played outalong that coast, because numerous cruisers were making it theirbusiness to watch the inlets and warn passing vessels to look out forthemselves. It was no use trying to catch big ships that would not lethim come within range, and so he had decided to put his howitzersashore, tear out the berths and gun decks fore and aft, and turn the_Osprey_ into a freighter. He would change her name, too, give heranother coat of paint, and take the figures off her sails, so that shecould not be recognized from the description the _Hollins's_ men wouldgive of her when they went North.
"I have kept you men because you are the best in the crew," saidBeardsley in conclusion, "and of course I want none but good men andtrue aboard of me; but you needn't stay if you don't want to. I want youto understand that blockade running is a dangerous business, and that wemay be captured as others have been; but if you will stand by me, I'llgive you five hundred dollars apiece for the run--one hundred to spendin Nassau, and the balance when you help me bring the schooner safe backto Newbern. What do you say?"
The men had evidently been expecting something of this sort, for withouta moment's hesitation Tierney, speaking for his companions, replied thatthe captain's liberal offer was accepted, and they would do all that mencould do to make the _Osprey's_ voyages profitable. Marcy said nothing,for Beardsley had already given him to understand that he was to be oneof the blockade-runner's crew. He was the only native American among theforemast hands, and the only one who could sign his name to the shippingarticles, the others being obliged to make their marks. When this hadbeen done the men returned to the deck, and the agent went ashore tomake arrangements for landing the guns, to hunt up a gang of shipcarpenters, and find a cotton-factor who was willing to take his chanceson making or losing a fortune. He worked to such good purpose that inless than an hour two parties of men were busy on the schooner--one withthe howitzers and the other with the bunks below--and a broker wasmaking a contract with Beardsley for taking out a cargo of cotton. Whenthe broker had gone ashore Beardsley beckoned Marcy to follow him intothe cabin.
"The schooner owes you seventeen hundred dollars and better," said he,as he closed the sliding door and pointed to a chair. "It's in the bankashore, and you can have it whenever you want it. Would you like to takeout a venture?"
It was right on the point of Marcy's tongue to reply that he would beglad to do it; but he checked himself in time, for the thought occurredto him that perhaps this was another attempt on the part of CaptainBeardsley to find out something about the state of his mother'sfinances. So he looked down at the carpet and said nothing.
"There's money in it," continued Beardsley. "Suppose you take out twobales of cotton, sell it in Nassau for three times what it was worth afew months ago, and invest the proceeds in quinine; why, you'll makefive hundred percent. Of course I can't grant all the hands the sameprivilege, so I will make the bargain for you through my agent, andTierney and the rest needn't know a thing about. What do you say?"
"I don't think I had better risk it," answered Marcy.
"What for?" asked Beardsley.
"Well, the money I've got I'm sure of, am I not?"
"Course you are. Didn't I say you could have it any minute you had amind to call for it?"
"You did; but suppose I should put it into cotton, as you suggest, andthe _Osprey_ should fall into the hands of one of those war shipsoutside. There'd be all my money gone to the dogs, or, what amounts tothe same thing, into the hands of the Yankees. I may want to use thatmoney before the war is over."
"But didn't you hear the agent say that we ain't going to have any war?We've licked 'em before they could take their coats off."
"But perhaps they'll not stay whipped. My teachers at the academy werepretty well posted, and I heard some of them say that a war is surelycoming, and in the end the Southern States will wish they had neverseceded."
"Well, them teachers of yourn was the biggest fules I ever heard tellof," exclaimed Beardsley, settling back in his chair and slamming apaper-weight down upon the table. "Why, don't I tell you that we've got'em licked already? More'n that, I don't mean to fall into the hands ofthem cruisers outside. I tell you that you'll miss it if you don't takeout a venture. And as for your mother needing them seventeen hundreddollars to buy grub and the like, you can't pull the wool over my eyesin no such way as that. She's got money by the bushel, and I know it tobe a fact."
"Then you know more than I do," replied Marcy, his eyes never droppingfor an instant under the searching gaze the captain fixed upon him."Now, I would like to ask you one question: You have money enough ofyour own to load this vessel, have you not?"
"Why, of course I--that's neither here nor there," replied Beardsley,who was not sharp enough to keep out of the trap that Marcy had placedfor him. "What of it?"
"I know it to be a fact that you could load the schooner with cottonpurchased with your own money if you felt like it," answered the youngpilot, "but you don't mean to do it. You would rather carry cottonbelonging to somebody else, and that is all the proof I want that youare afraid of the Yankees. If you want to do the fair thing by me, whydo you advise me to put my money in
to a venture, when you are afraid toput in a dollar for yourself?"
"Why, man alive," Beardsley almost shouted, "don't I risk my schooner?Every nigger I've got was paid for with money she made for me bycarrying cigars and such like between Havana and Baltimore."
"That's what I thought," said Marcy, to himself. "And you didn't pay acent of duty on those cigars, either."
"I do my share by risking my schooner," continued the captain. "But Iwant somebody to make something besides myself, and if you don't want torisk your money, I reckon I'll give the mates a chance. That's all."
"What in the name of sense did I go and speak to him about them cigarsfor?" he added, mentally, as the pilot ascended the ladder that led tothe deck. "I think myself that there's a war coming, and if we getlicked I must either make a fast friend of that boy or get rid of him;for if he tells on me I'll get into trouble sure."
It looked now as though Marcy might some day have it in his power tomake things very unpleasant for Captain Beardsley.
Marcy the Blockade Runner Page 4