“Getting his spirits damped, I reckon.”
“Some, you bet.”
And then I heard a voice I knew, the voice of the Irishman, “Four-Eyes.”
“Is it the boi ye’re mindin’, bedad?”
“Ay, sir, he’s moved a point.”
“The poor divil. Throw him a sheet, one av yer; it’s meself that’s not bringing the guv’ner a dead body when he wants a live one, be Saint Pathrick!”
They tried to throw me a sheet as the man had ordered, but we had begun to move rapidly again, and I heard it fall in the water by my head. Though there was more hailing, the thud of the choppy sea against the boat forbade any more hearing, and the sheet never reached me. Yet the men had told me something with their words, and I pondered long on the remark of the Irishman, that the “guv’ner” wanted me alive. It explained much; and it put beyond doubt the reason why I had not been killed in the drinking den. It was quite clear that my life was safe from these men until they reached their chief; but where he was I had no notion, except he were on the nameless ship; and, if that were so, to the nameless ship I was going—that ship of horror and of mystery. Nor could I remember anything in what I knew of Captain Black to lead me to the hope that such a voyage was other than one to death, and perhaps to that which might be worse than death itself.
When this strange procession had lasted about an hour, the rain ceased and the sun shone again with renewed power, drying my clothes upon me and giving me prodigious thirst. I struggled to reach the flask, and in doing so I found that the ropes binding my right arm were tied with common hitches, such as any sailor could force; and my experience as a yachtsman let me get free of them with very little trouble. I did not sit up at once, for I feared to be seen from the decks; but I turned my head to look at the boat which towed me, and saw that she was a barque-rigged yacht after the American fashion; her name Labrador being conspicuous across her stern. My boat, which was no larger than I had thought, was towed by a double hawser; but no man watched me from the poop, and I lay down again reassured. The hope of escape was already in my head, for I judged that we could not be far out from New York, although no land was visible on the horizon. It occurred to me that if they would only let me be until night I could get my left hand and my feet free; and, as the hawser was passed through a ring at the bow, I needed but a knife to complete the business. But I had no knife, for a search in my pockets proved that I had been relieved of all my valuables and trifles; and I knew that another way must be found, and that ingenuity alone would help me. So I sat thinking; and all the long afternoon—I knew it was afternoon, as I saw the sun sinking in the horizon and heard the bells, moreover—I examined such devices as came to me, only to reject them and to seek for others.
Towards the second bell in the second “dog” there was a change in the monotony of the scene. I heard an order to heave the barque to, and presently I made haste to put the ropes back in their places and to await the happening. I felt all motion cease, and then someone hauling at the hawser, so that the jolly-boat was pulled against the side of the bigger ship; and, looking up, I saw half-a-dozen of Black’s gang watching me from the quarter-deck. Then a ladder was put over the bulwark, and Four-Eyes himself cried out not in an unkindly tone—
“Gi-me the soop, bhoys, and let’s get it in him; begorra, the divil’ll have him afore the skipper if it’s no mate you’re givin’ him!”
He came down the ladder with a great can of steaming stuff; and the sea having fallen away with the sun to a dead calm, he stepped off the ladder to the stern seat, and then bent over me. But I saw this only, that he had a knife in his belt; and I made up my mind in a moment to get it from him.
“The young ’un from Paris,” he cried, as he took a long look at me, “and near to axin’ for a priest, by the houly saints; but I was tellin’ ye to stop where ye was, and it’s no thanks ye were giving me. Bedad, and a pretty place ye’re going to, sorr, at your own wish—the divil knows what’s the end av it—but sup a bit, for it’s fastin’ ye are by the luk av ye, and long gone at that!”
Kindly words he gave me; and he held to the rope with one hand while he put the can of hot stuff to my lips with the other. I drank half of it with great gulps, feeling the warmth spread through my body to my very toes as the broth went down; and a great hope consoled me, for I had his knife, having snatched it from him when first he stooped, and it lay in the tarpaulin beneath me. The good luck of the theft made me quick to empty the pot of gravy; and when I had returned the can, Four-Eyes went over the side again, and the yacht moved onward lazily in the softest of breezes from the west. But my boat lay behind her again; and I did not stir from my restful position until it was full dark; though the going down of the sun had left a clear night and a zenith richly set with a shimmer of stars, which did not give any great promise to my thoughts of coming freedom.
When I deemed that I had waited long enough, and had assured myself that the later night would not be more auspicious for the attempt, I cut away the remaining ropes at my feet, and crouched unbound in the boat. There was good watch upon the ship, I knew, for I could hear the “All’s well!” as the bells were struck, and the passing of the orders from the poop to the fo’castle. This did not deter me; and, being determined to stake all rather than face the terrors of the nameless ship, I crawled to the bow, and began to cut the strands of the hawser one by one. The rope was very thick and hard, and the knife which I had stolen was blunt, so that the work was prodigiously slow and difficult; and when I had been at it for half an hour or more, I was interrupted in a way that sent my heart almost into my mouth. There was a man standing on the poop of the Labrador, and he seemed to be watching my occupation. I threw myself flat instantly, and listened to his hail.
“Ahoy, there, young ’un, are you getting a chill?” cried a bluff voice, which I did not recognise; but presently the man Four-Eyes hailed also, and I heard him say—
“If it’s dead ye are, will ye be sending word up to us?” and, seeing the mood, I bawled with all my strength—
“I’m all right; but I’ll call out for some more of that soup of yours just now.”
They gave a great shout, and one of them said—
“You ken calcerlate ez you will be gettin’ it all nice en’ hot when you meet the old ’un in the mornin’”; and the crew roared with laughter at the sally, and disappeared one by one from the poop. Then I whipped out my knife again, and with a few vigorous strokes I cut the rope clean through, and felt my boat go swirling away on the backwash. It was a moment of supreme excitement, and I lay quite flat, waiting to hear if I were missed; but I heard no sound, and looking round presently, I saw the yacht away a mile, and I knew that I was a free man.
The delight of the enterprise would have been intense if my unexpected success had not allowed me to forget one thing when I had made my hasty plans. There were no oars in the boat. The terrible truth came to me as I fixed the seat and prepared to put greater distance between the Labrador and myself. But one look round convinced me that the position was hopeless. With the exception of the tarpaulins, the seats, and the tiller, the boat was unfurnished. As I thought of these things, and remembered that I was some hundreds of miles from land, that I had a couple of biscuits for food, and a half a flask of brandy and water for drink, I experienced a terror greater than any I have known; and so weak was I with sickness and so low with the disappointment of it, that I put my head between my hands and sobbed like a great child who had known a childish sorrow. Only when the tears had dried upon my face, and there was that after-sense of resignation which follows a nervous outbreak, did I upbraid myself for a weakling, and set to think out plans for my release. I had no compass, but, taking the north through the “pointers,” I tried to make out the course in which I was drifting; yet this, I must confess, was a hopeless task. I thought that the boat was being carried by a steady current; yet whether the current set towards the land or away from it, I could not tell.
When a couple of h
ours had passed, and I could see the yacht no longer, I took a new consolation in the thought that I must, after all, be in the track of steamers bound out from, or to, New York; and in this hope I covered myself in the tarpaulins and lay down again to shield myself from the wind which blew with much sharpness as the night grew. I did not sleep, but lay half-dazed for an hour or more, and was roused only at a curious light which flashed above me in the sky. Its first aspect led me to the conclusion that I saw a reflection of the Aurora; but the second flash altered the opinion. The light was clearly focussed, being a volume of intensely bright, white rays which passed right above me with slow and guided motion, and then stopped altogether, almost fixed upon the jolly-boat. I knew then what it was, and I sat up to see the great beams of a man-of-war’s search-light, showing an arc of the water almost as clear as by the sun’s power. The vessel itself I could not make out; but I feared at once that fate had sent me straight to the nameless ship; and that the very misfortune I had thought to have undone was brought home to me. Yet I could not take one step to defend myself, and must perforce drift on, to what end I knew not.
The light shone in all its brightness for some five minutes; then it died away suddenly, and on the spot whence it had come I could just distinguish the dark hull of a steamer. To my vast consolation, she had two funnels and three masts, and I remembered that Black’s boat had but one funnel and two masts, so that good fortune seemed to have come to me at last. Over-delighted with the discovery, I stood up at my risk in the jolly-boat and waved my arms wildly; when, as if in answer, the search-light flashed out again and bathed me in its refulgent beams. Some moments, long moments to me, passed in feverish conjecture; and then in the pathway of the light I saw in all distinctness the outline of a long-boat, fully manned, and she was coming straight to me. There could be no more doubt of it; I had passed through much suffering, but it was all child’s play to the “might have been”; and in the reaction I laughed aloud like an hysterical woman, and blushed to remember those great tears which had rolled over my face not an hour gone. And all the time I never took my eyes from the boat; but feasted on it as a beggar-child feasts in imagination on the gauds of a groaning table. Its progress seemed slow, wofully slow; the men in it made me no manner of signal, never gave an answer to my erratic hand-waving; but, what was of more consequence, they came in a bee-line towards me, and the radiating light never moved once whilst they rowed. In the end, I myself broke the silence, shouting lustily to them, but getting no answer until I had repeated the call thrice. The fourth cry, loud and in something desperate, brought the response so eagerly awaited; but when I recognised the voice of him who then hailed me I fell down again in my boat with a heart-stricken burst of sorrow, for the voice was the Irishman’s, and Four-Eyes spoke—
“Avast hailin’, young ’un,” he cried; “we ain’t agoin’ to part along o’ your society no more, don’t you be frettin’.”
They dragged me into their boat, and taking my own in tow, they rowed rapidly to the distant steamer, on whose deck I stood presently; but not without profound fear, for I knew that at last I was a prisoner on the nameless ship.
THE IRON PIRATE, by Max Pemberton (Part 2)
CHAPTER XIV.
A CABIN IN SCARLET.
There was light from six lanterns, held by giant negroes, to greet me when I had mounted the ladder and was at last on the deck of the great ship; but none of the men spoke a word, nor could I see their faces. Of those who had brought me from the jolly-boat, I recognised two besides “Four-Eyes” as men whom I had seen in Paris, but the Irishman appeared to be the captain of them; and, in lack of other leader, he spoke when all were aboard, but it was in a monosyllable. “Aft!” he said, looking round to see if anyone else were near; and one of them silently touched me upon the shoulder, and I followed him along a narrow strip of iron deck, past a great turret which reared itself above me, and again by the covered forms of quick-firing guns. We descended a short ladder to a lower deck; and so to the companion way, and to a narrow passage in which were many doors. One of these he opened, and motioned me to enter, when the door was closed noiselessly behind me, and I found myself alone.
My first feeling was one of intense surprise. I had looked to enter a prison; but, if that were a prison, then were lack of liberty shorn of half its terrors. The cabin was not large, but one more artistic in effect was never built. Hung all round with poppy-coloured silk, the same material made curtains for the bunk—which seemed of unusual size, and furnished with sleep-bespeaking mattresses. It was employed also for the cushions and covering of the armchair and the couch, and to drape the dressing-glass and basin which were in the left-hand corner. It seemed, indeed, that the whole room was a harmony in scarlet, with a scarlet ceiling and scarlet hangings; but the luxury of it was unmistakable, and the feet sank above the ankles in the soft Indian rug, which was ornate with the quaint mosaic-like workings and penetrating colours of all Eastern tapestry. For light, there was an arc-lamp, veiled with gauze of the faintest yellow; and upon the table in the centre stood a decanter of wine and a box of cigars. The room would have been perfect but for a horrid blot upon it—a blot which stared at me from the outer wall with bloodshot eyes and hideous visage. It was the picture of a man’s head that had been severed from the body; and was repulsive enough to have been painted by Wiertz himself. The picture almost terrified me, but I thought, if no worse harm befall me what odds? and I sat down all wondering and dazed, and drew a cigar from the box upon the table. The wine, of which I drank nearly a tumblerful, put new courage of a sort into me; and so, troubled and amazed, I began to ask myself what the proceeding meant, or what the portent of it all could possibly be.
My conclusion was, when I thought the whole thing out, that the man Black could be showing me this marked consideration only for some motive of self-interest. It was evident that he had been aware of my intention to follow him from the moment when Roderick purchased our new steam-yacht. He had put one of his own men craftily upon the ship to watch us, and had made a bold attempt to deal with us in mid-Atlantic. Foiled there, he had taken advantage of my folly in entering such a place as the Bowery, and had given orders that I should be carried to his own ship—for I knew then that the strange craft he owned was capable of many disguises—and should be carried alive. Why alive, if not that he might learn all about me, or that a more dreadful fate than mere death should be mine? I had seen the appalling end of poor Hall, the merciless severity with which his death had been compassed: why should I expect more gentle usage or other recompense? If ever man had been trapped, I had been; and, beneath all my placid self-restraint, I felt that my life was not worth an hour’s—nay, perhaps ten minutes’—purchase. It was as if I had been taken clean out of the world with no man to extend me a helping hand. Roderick, truly, would move heaven and earth to reach me, but what could he hope for against such a crew; or how should I expect to be alive when he brought his attempts to a head? And I thought of him with deep feelings of friendship at that moment, and wondered what Mary would say. She will be serious, I argued, for the first time in her life, and they will know much anxiety. Yet that must be—in the floating tomb where I lay I could hope to send no word to the living world which I had left.
I had smoked one cigar in the cabin, listening to the tremendous throb of the ship’s screws, and the swish of the sea as we cleaved it, when the electric light went out, and I was left in darkness. The sudden change gave me some alarm, and I cocked my revolver, being resolute to account for one man at least, if any attempt were made upon me; but when I had sat quite still for some half-an-hour there was no noise of movement save on the deck above, and my own cabin remained as still as the grave. It appeared that I was to be left unmolested for that night at any rate; and, being something of a philosopher, I waited for another hour or so, and finding that no one came near me, I undressed and lay down in one of the most seductive beds I have met with at sea. I did, indeed, take the precaution of putting my Colt under the pill
ow; but I was so weary and fatigued with my sufferings in the open boat that I fell asleep at once, and must have slept for many hours.
CHAPTER XV.
THE PRISON OF STEEL.
I awoke in the day, but at what hour of it I know not. The red curtains opposite to my bunk were drawn back, admitting dull light from a port-hole through which I could look upon a tumbling sea, and a sky all girt with rain-clouds. But I had not been awake five seconds when I saw that my arm-chair was occupied by a man who did not look more than thirty-years old, and was dressed with all the scrupulous neatness of a thorough-going yachtsman. He was wearing a peaked cloth cap with a gold eagle upon it, a short jacket of blue serge, with ample trousers to match, and a neat pair of brown shoes; while his linen would have touched the heart even of the most hardened blanchisseuse of the city. He had a bright, open face, marred only by a peculiarly irritating movement of the eye, which told of a nervous disposition; and there was something refined and polished in his voice, which I heard almost at once.
“Good-morning to you,” he said; “I hope you have slept well?”
“I have never slept better; it must be twelve o’clock, isn’t it?”
“It’s exactly half-past three, American time. I didn’t wake you before, because sleep is the best medicine in your case. I’m a doctor, you know.”
“Oh! you’re the physician-in-ordinary to the crew, I suppose; you must see a good deal of practice.”
He looked rather surprised at my meaning remark, and then said quite calmly, “Yes, I write a good many death certificates; who knows, I may even do that service for you?”
It was said half-mockingly, half-threateningly; but it brought home to me at once the situation in which I was; and I must have become serious, which he saw, and endeavoured to turn me to a lighter mood.
“You must be hungry,” he continued; “I will ring for breakfast; and, if you would take a tub, your bathroom is here.”
The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales Page 228