CHAPTER FOUR.
Let us waft ourselves away, now, over the sea, in pursuit of the strangebarque which had treated the good people of Ratinga so cavalierly.
Richard Rosco sits in the cabin of the vessel, for it is he who commandsher. He had taken her as a prize, and, finding her a good vessel in allrespects, had adopted her in preference to the old piratical-lookingschooner. A seaman stands before him.
"It is impossible, I tell you," says Rosco, while a troubled expressioncrosses his features, which have not improved since we saw him upwardsof three years ago. "The distance between the two islands is so greatthat it is not probable he traversed it in a canoe, especially when weconsider that he did not know the island's name or position, and wasraving mad when I put him ashore."
"That may be so, captain," says the sailor: "nevertheless I seed himwith my own eyes, an no mistake. Didn't you say he was a man thatnobody could mistake, tall, broad, powerful, handsome, black curly hair,short beard and moustache, with sharp eyes and a pleasant smile?"
"The same, in every particular--and just bordering on middle age,"answers the perplexed pirate.
"Well, as to age, I can't say much about that," returns the seaman; "heseemed to me more like a young man than a middle-aged one, but he hadcoolness and cheek enough for a hundred and fifty, or any age you like."
"Strange," muttered Rosco to himself, paying no regard to the lastobservation; "I wish that I or Mr Redford had gone with you, or someone who had seen him the last time we were here; but I didn't want to berecognised;" then checking himself--"Well, you may go, and send MrRedford to me."
"I cannot account for Zeppa turning up in this way," he said, when themate entered.
"No more can I, sir."
"Do all the men agree in saying that he seems to be quite sane."
"All. Indeed most of them seemed surprised when I asked the question.You see, what with death by sword, shot, and sickness, there's not a manin the ship who ever saw him, except yourself and me. The last of theold hands, you know, went with Captain Daniel when you sent him and theunwilling men away in the old schooner. I have no doubt, myself, fromwhat they say, that Zeppa has got well again, and managed to return homeas sound and sane as you or I."
"If you and I were sane, we should not be here," thought the piratecaptain; but he did not give expression to the thought, save by acontemptuous curl of his lip.
"Well, Redford," he said, after a few seconds' pause, "my chief reasonfor going to Sugar-loaf Island is removed, nevertheless we shall stillgo there for a fresh load of sandal-wood and other things that willfetch a good price."
"I fear, sir," returned the mate after some hesitation, "that the crewwill be apt to mutiny, if you insist on going there. They are tired ofthis mixture of _trade_ with free-roving, and are anxious to sail inseas where we shall be more likely to fall in with something worthpicking up."
"Stop, Redford, I want to hear no more. The crew shall go where Iplease as long as I command them; and you may add that I will guaranteetheir being pleased with my present plan. There, don't refer to thissubject again. Where did you say the British cruiser was last seen?"
"Bearing nor'-east, sir, hull down--on our starboard quarter. I calledyou at once, but she had changed her course to nor'-west and we lostsight of her."
"That will just suit us," said Rosco, going into his private cabin andshutting the door.
Well might the pirate captain be perplexed at that time, for he wassurrounded by difficulties, not the least of which was that his men werethoroughly dissatisfied with him, and he with them. He did not find hiscrew sufficiently ready to go in for lucrative kidnapping of nativeswhen the chance offered, and they did not find their captainsufficiently ferocious and bloodthirsty when prizes came in their way.Nevertheless, through the influence of utter recklessness, contemptuousdisregard of death, and an indomitable will, backed by wonderfulcapacity and aptitude in the use of fist, sword, and pistol, he had upto this time held them in complete subjection.
In his heart Rosco had resolved to quit his comrades at the firstfavourable opportunity, and, with this intent had been making for one ofthe most out-of-the-way islands in the Pacific--there to go and liveamong the natives, and never more to see the faces of civilised men--against whom he had sinned so grievously. His intentions were hastenedby the fact that a British man-of-war on the Vancouver station, hearingof his exploits, had resolved to search for him. And this cruiser didin fact come across his track and gave chase; but being a poor sailer,was left behind just before the pirate had reached Ratinga, where, as wehave seen, she put in for water.
The discovery there made, as he supposed, that Antonio Zeppa hadrecovered his reason and returned home, not only amazed and puzzledRosco, but disconcerted part of his plan, which was to find Zeppa, whoseimage had never ceased to trouble his conscience, and, if possible,convey him to the neighbourhood of some port whence he could easilyreturn to Ratinga. It now struck him that, since Zeppa was no longer onSugar-loaf Island, that spot would be as favourable a one as could befound for his purpose, being far removed from the usual tracks ofcommerce. He would go there, take to the mountains as Zeppa had donebefore him, leave his dissatisfied comrades to follow their own devices,and, crossing over to the other side of the island, ingratiate himselfas well as he could with the natives, grow beard and moustache, which hehad hitherto shaved, and pass himself off as a shipwrecked sailor,should any vessel or cruiser touch there.
"And shipwrecked I am, body, soul, and spirit," he muttered, bitterly,as he sat in his cabin, brooding over the past and future.
Leaving him there, and thus, we will return to Ratinga, the peacefulinhabitants of which were destined at this time to be tickled withseveral little shocks of more or less agreeable surprise.
One of these shocks was the sudden disappearance of Zariffa, the nativemissionary's brown baby. It was an insignificant event in itself, andis only mentioned because of its having led indirectly to events ofgreater importance.
Zariffa had, by that time, passed out of the condition ofbrown-babyhood. She had, to her own intense delight, been promoted tothe condition of a decently-clad little savage. In addition to thescuttle bonnet which was not quite so tremulous as that of her mother,she now sported a blue flannel petticoat. This was deemed sufficientfor her, the climate being warm.
Zariffa was still, however, too young to take care of herself. Great,therefore, was Betsy Waroonga's alarm when she missed her one day fromher little bed where she should have been sleeping.
"Ebony!" cried Betsy, turning sharply round and glaring, "Zariffa'sgone."
"_Quite_ dead," exclaimed the negro, aghast.
"Not at all dead," said Betsy; "but gone--gone hout of hers bed."
"Dat no great misfortin', missis," returned Ebony, with a sigh ofrelief.
"It's little you knows, stoopid feller," returned the nativemissionary's wife, while her coal-scuttle shook with imparted emotion;"Zariffa never dis'beyed me in hers life. She's lost. We must seek--seek quick!"
The sympathetic negro became again anxious, and looked hastily under thechairs and tables for the lost one, while her mother opened and searcheda corner cupboard that could not have held a child half her size. Thenthe pair became more and more distracted as each excited the other, andran to the various outhouses shouting, "Zariffa!" anxiously,entreatingly, despairing.
They gathered natives as they ran, hither and thither, searching everynook and corner, and burst at last in an excited crowd into the presenceof Waroonga himself, who was in the act of detailing the history ofJoseph to a select class of scholars, varying from seven to seventeenyears of age.
"Oh! massa, Zariffa's lost!" cried Ebony.
Waroonga glanced quickly at his wife. The excessive agitation of herbonnet told its own tale. The missionary threw Joseph overboarddirectly, proclaimed a holiday, and rushed out of the school-house.
"No use to go home, massa," cried Ebony; "we's sarch eberywhere dar; nofind her."
> "Has you been to the piggery?" demanded the anxious father, who was wellaware of his child's fondness for "little squeakers."
"Oh, yes; bin dar. I rousted out de ole sow for make sure Zariffa nohides behind her."
At this juncture Orlando came up with a sack of cocoa-nuts on his back.Hearing what had occurred he took the matter in hand with his wontedenergy.
"We must organise a regular search," he said, throwing down the sack,"and go to work at once, for the day is far advanced, and we can dolittle or nothing after dark."
So saying he collected all the able men of the village, divided theminto bands, gave them minute, though hurried, directions where they wereto go, and what signals they were to give in the event of the childbeing found; and then, heading one of the bands, he joined eagerly inthe search. But, before going, he advised Betsy Waroonga to keep hismother company, as women could not be of much use in such work.
"No," said Mrs Waroonga, with decision; "we will go home an' pray."
"Right, that will be better," said Orlando. "You go back with her,Ebony, and fetch my gun. I left it in Waroonga's house when I went infor a sack to hold the cocoa-nuts. It is behind the door. You'll findme searching in the palm-grove. Now, boys, away; we've no time tolose."
Returning to her house with her sable attendant, poor Betsy rushed intoher private apartment threw herself on her knees and half across herlowly bed in an agony of alarm.
She was startled and horrified by a sharp, though smothered cry, whilesome living creature heaved under the bed-clothes. Instantly she sweptthem off, and lo! there lay Zariffa safe and well, though somewhatconfused by her rude awaking and her mother's weight.
"You's keep up heart, missis," said the sympathetic Ebony, lookinghastily into the room in passing; "we's sartin sure to find--"
He stopped. Blazing amazement sat on his countenance for about sixmoments--a pause similar to that of an injured infant just preparing fora yell--then he exploded into a fit of laughter so uncontrollable thatit seemed as if a hurricane had been suddenly let loose in the room,insomuch that Betsy's remonstrances were quite unheard.
"Oh! missis," he exclaimed at last, wiping his eyes, "I's a-goin' tobust."
"Yes, an' I'll help you to do it," she replied impatiently, seizing anold shoe, and laying it on the negro's bare back with a crack like apistol-shot.
Ebony strove to calm himself.
"Go 'long, you noisy feller, an' tell Waroonga to stop the search."
It was plain that Ebony had not sufficiently relieved his feelings, forhis broad chest heaved, and ominous sounds came out of his nose.
"On'y tink," said he, "dat you hoed down to say yous prayers on de berrytop ob de babby!"
The thought was too much for him. He exploded again, and, rushing fromthe house, ascended the hills, and filled the groves as he went withhilarious melody.
But he did not find Orlando, who had completed his search of thepalm-grove and passed over the ridge that formed the summit of theisland in that part. It was by no means the highest part, but from itcould be seen a large bay which lay on the side of the island oppositeto the mission village. And here he beheld the cause of another of thelittle surprises with which we have said the people of Ratinga werevisited at that time. It was a stately man-of-war, with the Union Jackflying from her peak, and her sails backed so as to check her way.
A boat was being lowered from her side, and Orlando with his partyhastened to the beach to meet it.
The officer in command was evidently not aware that he had come to anisland where the peaceful influences of the gospel of Jesus prevailed,for, on landing, he drew up his men, who were all armed to receiveeither as friends or foes the party of natives who advanced towards him.The officer was not a little surprised to observe that the natives wereled by a white man, who halted them when within about three hundredyards off, and advanced alone and unarmed to the beach.
"I am happy to welcome you and offer hospitality," said Orlando, takingoff his cap.
"Thanks, good sir, I accept your offer most gladly," returned theofficer, holding out his hand; "all the more heartily that I hadexpected to meet with none but savages here."
"We are Christians, thank God," said Orlando.
"Then this must be the island of Ratinga, of which we have heard so muchof late."
"Even so."
"But where, then, is your village, your church?" asked the officer,looking round.
"It is on the other side of the island. If you will take your shipround there you will find good anchorage and fresh water, of which last,if I may judge from the casks in your boat you are in search."
The officer at once acted on this advice, and Orlando accompanied him onboard to pilot the vessel round.
On the way the captain--Fitzgerald--asked if any suspicious craft hadbeen seen lately, and, on hearing that a barque, flying British colours,had put in there only a day or two before, said that he had been sentout in chase of that barque, as she was commanded by a celebrated andrather eccentric pirate, named Rosco.
"I know him well," said Orlando quickly, "he was mate of a schoonerwhich called here between three and four years ago. It was commanded bya poor fellow named Daniel, who, I fear, was murdered by his crew.Alas! I have only too good reason to remember it."
He then related the visit of the piratical-looking schooner to Ratinga;its departure with his father and himself on board; the mutiny, and allthe other circumstances connected with that memorable event.
"And have you never heard of your father since then?" asked CaptainFitzgerald.
"Never. I am almost forced to the conclusion that he must have beenmurdered by the mutineers, for if he had escaped them, he would surely,long ere now, have managed to find his way home. And yet I cannot helpfeeling that perhaps God may have spared his life, and may yet restorehim to us."
"It is, perhaps, cruel to encourage hopes which may be doomed to bitterdisappointment," returned the captain, regarding Orlando's sad face witha look of sympathy; "but it is by no means impossible that your fathermay be alive. Listen. I, too, know something of this affair, and willtell you all I know. Captain Daniel, of the schooner whose crewmutinied, was not murdered. This Rosco seems to have had, all throughhis career, a strong tendency to mercy. So much so that his men havethreatened his own life more than once. At the same time, he possessesgreat power over them, and has held them for many years under command.We have heard of him more than once from persons whom he has set free,after taking their vessels; among others from Captain Daniel, who turnedup in Vancouver's Island. It seems that after you were thrown overboardand supposed to be drowned, your poor father went--went--that is to say,his mind was unhinged, owing, no doubt, to the combined effect of yoursupposed murder and the two terrible blows by which he was felled duringthe mutiny."
"My father--mad!" exclaimed Orlando, in a low, horrified tone, claspinghis hands, and gazing into Captain Fitzgerald's face.
"Nay, I did not say mad. It was a great shock, you know, and quitesufficient to account for temporary derangement. Then Rosco sailed awayto a distant island, where he put your father ashore, and left him."
"What island--did you hear its name?" asked Orlando, quickly.
"It is an almost unknown island, not marked or named in any chart; butit had been seen by one of the mutineers on one of his early voyages,and named Sugar-loaf Island, from its shape. Well, after leaving theisland Rosco attacked, and easily captured, a large merchantman.Finding it both good and new, he transhipped all that was worthretaining, including arms and guns, into this barque, and took command;then he assembled his men, asked who were willing to follow him, putthose who were unwilling into the old schooner with Captain Daniel attheir head, and left them to sail where they pleased. They landed, as Ihave said, at Vancouver's Island. The pirate Rosco, and his barque, the`Flame,' have become notorious since then, both for daring andeccentricity, and I have been ordered to get hold of them, if possible.Now, I mean to go to Sugar-loaf Island, becaus
e, from various things Ihave heard of this scoundrel, I think it not unlikely that he will gothere."
"And you will let me go with you?" suddenly exclaimed Orlando, in avoice of earnest entreaty.
"I will, my poor fellow," returned the captain; "but don't be toosanguine; and let me advise you to say nothing of all this to yourmother."
"You are right. She must not know--at least not now. It will be thefirst time in my life I have had a secret from my mother; but she mustnot know till--till we return."
That night there was great rejoicing in Ratinga, because of therecovery, if we may so call it, of Zariffa, and the visit of the Britishman-of-war.
In the midst of the rejoicings a huge, lustrous pair of black eyes gazedearnestly into Orlando's face, and an enormously thick pair of red lipssaid, "I go too, massa--eh?"
"Well, you may, Ebony, if the captain will let you. He has alreadyagreed to take the missionary and the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee; but,mind, not a whisper of our secret hope to any one."
Thus, with the approval of Madame Zeppa and Betsy Waroonga, these fiverepresentatives of Ratinga embarked on board the British man-of-war, andleft the island.
The Madman and the Pirate Page 4