CHAPTER VI.
BEN HARDEN.
As the words fell one by one from Ben's lips, Eric realized more andmore clearly how critical was his situation. In his gladness at escapefrom the present peril of the wreck, he had forgotten to take thoughtfor the future; but now he was brought face to face with a state ofaffairs by which that future was filled with dark foreboding. Littleas he had seen of the men into whose midst he had been so strangelythrown, it was enough to make very plain to him that they wanted nowitness of their doings.
So far they had been too much occupied with their own concerns to takemuch notice of him; but once he became the object of their attention,the question as to his disposal must be settled. The issue was morethan doubtful, to say the least.
An awful feeling of desolation and despair came upon him. He seemedunable to utter a word, but looked up into Ben's bronzed face with anexpression in which pathetic appeal was so mingled with harrowing dreadas to touch this strange man.
He sprang to his feet, dashed his pipe out of his mouth, clenched hishuge fists, and shouted aloud, as though all the other wreckers werethere to hear,--
"They had better take care! I saved ye, and I'm going to stand by ye.Whoever wants to do you harm'll have to reckon with Ben Harden first;and come what may, I'll get you off this place with a whole skin,somehow."
Eric was as much surprised at Ben's sudden display of strong feeling ashe had been alarmed by his ominous words. He gazed at him, withwide-open mouth, until the wrecker, recovering his self-control by anevident effort, threw himself down on the sand again, picked up hispipe, carefully relit it, and vigorously resumed puffing forth cloudsof smoke.
It was some time before he spoke again. In a quiet, natural tone heasked Eric,--
"Have you any notion, my lad, why I troubled myself about ye at all?"
Eric shook his head, and there was something inexpressibly winning inhis smile as he answered,--
"No, sir. Unless because you have too kind a heart to let Evil-Eye dome any harm."
Ben smiled in return, but it was in a grim sort of a way.
"My heart was softer once than it is now. There were better days then,and never did I think that I'd come to be a wrecker on Sable Island,"said he; and the remembrance of those better days evidently gave himsaddening thoughts, for he relapsed into the moody silence that was hiswont. It continued so long that Eric began to feel uncomfortable, andwas about to move away a little, in order to have a frolic with Prince,when Ben roused himself, and motioned him to draw near him.
"Sit ye down in front of me, my lad," said he, "and listen to me a bit,and I'll tell you why I couldn't find it in my heart to let any harmcome to you. I had a boy of my own once, as trim a lad as ever sat ina boat; and many a fine trip we made together, for I was at an honesttrade then, and wasn't ashamed to take my boy into it. Ah, lad! thosewere the good times. We went fishing on the Banks, getting our outfitat Halifax, and selling our fare there. But our home was at Chester,where I had a snug cottage, all my own, without a shilling of debt onit, and pretty well fitted up too. The wife--she was the best wifethat ever I knew--she looked after the cottage, and we looked after thelittle schooner; and after each trip we'd stay at home awhile and havea little time together.
"We were mostly always in luck on the Banks, and it was not often the_Sea-Slipper_ missed a good fare, if there were any fish to be caught.And so it went on, until I lost my lad. He and his mate were out intheir dory fishing, and the cod were plentiful, and they were so fullof catching them that they did not notice the fog coming up andcreeping all around them. They lost their bearings, and no man everset eyes on them again.
"I didn't give up hoping I'd find them for months afterwards. Icruised about the Banks, I called at all the ports that sent outBankers, and I tried at Halifax, Boston, New York, and other bigplaces, hoping that some ship might have picked them up. But not aword did I hear. There was a heavy blow right after the fog, and nodoubt they were lost in that. I lost a lot of time hunting for my boy,and it seemed as though when he went my luck followed him. Everythingwent wrong. The fish would hardly touch my hooks, and I never got afull fare. Then the wife died. She never held up her head after theday I came home without our boy. I took to the drink. It didn't makematters any better, of course, but I couldn't keep from it.
"I got knocking about with a bad lot of chaps; and the end of it was,some of us came here. I don't care how soon it's all over with me. Ihate this business, and I hate myself."
Here Ben came to a pause, as though he had said more than he intended;and Eric, not knowing what to interpose, looked at him in silentsympathy, until he began again.
"But I haven't told ye why I saved ye from Evil-Eye.
"Well, it was just this way. When I found ye, you were lying on thesand like as though you were asleep; and you fairly gave me a start,you looked so like my own boy. He was just about your age when he waslost, and you'd be much the same size, and he had brown hair just likeyours.
"If my boy had been lying half-dead on the beach, I'd have thought anyman worse than a brute that wouldn't help the lad. So I just made upmy mind to take your part, Evil-Eye or no Evil-Eye; and now I'm goingto stick to it."
Having spoken thus, Ben put his pipe back between his lips, evidentlyhaving no more to say. Eric hardly knew how to give expression to hisfeelings. Sympathy for his rescuer's troubles and gratitude for hisassurance of safe-keeping filled his heart. The tears gathered in hiseyes, and his voice trembled as, turning to the big man beside him, helaid his hand upon his knee, and looking up into his face, said,--
"You've been very good to me, Mr. Ben. You're the only friend I've gothere except Prince, and I'm sure you won't let any harm come to me, ifyou can help it. And I'm so sorry about your son. You see, we've bothlost somebody: you've lost your boy, and I--I've lost my mother."
His voice sank to a whisper as he uttered the words, and the tears hehad been bravely keeping back overflowed upon his cheeks.
Ben said not a word. There was a suspicious glistening about hiseyelids, and the quite superfluous vigour of his puffing told plainlyenough that he was deeply moved. After a moment he rose to his feet,knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and putting it into his pocket,said,--
"Come, lad, let us go back to the hut."
The two retraced their steps to the wreckers' abode. Eric now feltmore at ease than he had since the shipwreck. With such protectors asBen and Prince he surely had not much to fear, even in the evil companyamong which he had been cast. As to the future--well, it certainly didseem dark. But he had been taught to put trust in the Heavenly Fatherto whom he prayed, and he looked up to him now for help and guidance.
When they arrived at the hut they found the whole party of wreckersthere, waiting somewhat impatiently for a huge negro to serve themtheir supper.
This negro did duty as cook; they called him Black Joe. They tooklittle notice of the new-comers, and Eric, going quietly over to hisbunk, sat down on the edge and looked about him. This was his firstopportunity of getting a good look at his strange companions.
By listening to their conversation and studying their countenances hemade out that the majority of them were English, but that there were afew Frenchmen amongst them. There was only one negro, a stalwart,bull-necked, bullet-headed fellow, with a good-natured face, who seemedthe butt of the others, and a target for their oaths and jeers, as hebustled about the fireplace preparing their food.
The whole party appeared to be in excellent humour, the cause thereofbeing plainly enough the fact of the _Francis_ having proved so rich aprize. Each man had been able to secure sufficient plunder to satisfyhim, so there was no necessity for quarrelling over the division. Theyeach had some precious find to boast of, and they vied with one anotherin relating with great gusto their successful efforts after thewreckage. From what they said, Eric gathered that the _Francis_ didnot break up after striking. Her stout oak frame resisted the fiercestattempts of the billows
to tear it asunder. The storm subsided duringthe night, and the men were able in the morning to make their way tothe wreck, and despoil her of whatever took their fancy.
The thousands of valuable books, and the holdful of costly but cumbrousfurniture, they contemptuously left to the mercy of wind and wave. Thegreat store of gold and silver plate, the casks of finest wines, thebarrels and cases of delicious biscuits, conserves, pickles, and otherdainties, together with the racks of muskets, swords, and otherweapons--these were all very much to their liking. Moreover, theclothing chests had been ransacked, each man helping himself accordingto his fancy. The result was a display of gorgeous uniforms andelegant apparel that would have been quite imposing had not the facesand manners of the wearers been so ludicrously out of keeping withtheir costumes.
Little did Prince Edward imagine, when ordering liberal additions tohis wardrobe, that those resplendent garments were destined to be wornto tatters on the backs of the wreckers of Sable Island. What wouldhave been his feelings could he have seen Evil-Eye strutting about asproud as a turkey-cock in the superb uniform intended for the commanderof the forces at Halifax?
Although the profuse profanity of the speakers shocked and sickenedhim, Eric listened attentively to all that was said, in the hope ofpicking up something about his future. But the wreckers were too muchoccupied with their own affairs to pay any attention to him. PresentlyBlack Joe announced that supper was ready, whereupon they all stoppedtalking, and fell to with ravenous appetites.
The table looked curiously out of keeping with its associations ofsqualid hut and coarse, brutal men. It was covered with a cloth ofrichest damask that should have adorned a royal dining-room, and setout with china, glass, plate, and cutlery of corresponding elegance.It filled Eric with indignation and disgust to see the wreckers hackingtheir meat with ivory-handled knives, impaling their potatoes uponsilver forks, and quenching their thirst by copious draughts out ofcut-glass goblets, which seemed to be desecrated by their foul touch.
Ben motioned him to a seat beside himself, and helped him bountifully.Ill at ease as the boy felt, he was very hungry, and was glad to dofull justice to the coarse but plentiful fare provided by Black Joe.The wine he would not touch.
The hearty supper and the abundant wine put the men in even betterhumour than before, and Ben now saw his opportunity to carry out a planthat had been forming in his mind. Rising to his feet, he secured hiscompanions' attention by rapping loudly upon the table with the handleof his knife, and then proceeded to surprise them by making a littlespeech; for so chary of his words was he, as a usual thing, that theysometimes called him Silent Ben.
"I want a word with you, mates," said he; and at once every face wasturned toward him.
"You see this boy here. Now, I've taken a great liking to him, and I'mwilling that he and his dog shall be counted as part of my share ofthis last prize. That's all right, ain't it?"
"Ay, ay, Ben; right enough," came from half-a-dozen of them, while someof the others looked a little doubtful, as if they didn't know exactlywhat was coming.
The Wreckers of Sable Island Page 6