The Madman and the Pirate

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER EIGHT.

  Let us return, now, to our miserable and half-hearted pirate, far outupon the raging sea.

  It must not be supposed that the Pacific Ocean is always peaceful. No--there are days and nights when its winds howl, and its billows roar, andheave, and fume, with all the violence and fury of any other terrestrialsea.

  On one such night, the pirate's barque was tossed like a cork on thePacific's heaving bosom, while the shrieking winds played, as it were,fiendishly with the fluttering shreds of sails which they had previouslyblown to ribbons.

  Richard Rosco stood beside the weather-bulwarks holding on to one of themizzen back-stays. His mate Redford assisted the man at the wheel.

  Upwards of three years of Rosco's rule had subdued Redford to thecondition of a hypocritical and sly, but by no means a submissive,savage. One or two spurts at the commencement of their career hadsatisfied the mate, as well as the men, that the only way to overcomeRosco was to take his life; and as Redford had not sufficient courage,and the men no desire, to do that, they pursued their evil courses incomparative harmony. Nevertheless, the pirate captain knew well thatthe savage Redford was more acceptable to the pirates than himself so hedetermined to carry out intentions which had been simmering in his brainfor some time, and rid the pirate crew of his presence.

  "We will sight the island to-morrow afternoon, sir, if this holds," saidthe mate.

  "I know it," answered Rosco.

  "There is no good anchorage around it," continued the mate.

  "So you have told me before," returned the captain, "but it matters not;we shall not anchor."

  "Not anchor!" repeated Redford in surprise. "I understood that we wereto land there to ship sandal-wood. The crew thought so too, and I'mquite sure--"

  "Well--go on--what are you sure of?"

  "Oh! nothing--only sure that Captain Rosco understands his ownintentions best."

  Rosco made no reply, and nothing further passed between the inharmoniouspair at that time. Next day the gale abated, and, as Redford hadpredicted, Sugar-loaf Island was sighted in the afternoon.

  Running close in under the shelter of the mountain, the barque washove-to and a boat lowered.

  "The crew will take arms with them, I suppose, sir?" asked the mate.

  "Of course, though there will not be occasion for them, as there are nonatives at this part of the island. I merely wish to ascend the hill toreconnoitre. You will go with me. Put your pistols in your belt, andfetch my rifle. We may get some fresh meat among the hills."

  Breech-loading rifles had just come into fashion at that time, and thepirate captain had possessed himself of a double-barrelled one, withwhich he became wonderfully expert. This weapon was put into the boatwith a large pouch full of cartridges. No comments were made in regardto this, the pirates having been accustomed to see their commander landin various places for a day's shooting, the result of which was usuallyan acceptable addition of fresh food to their larder.

  "Remain by the boat, lads, till we return," said Rosco, leaping out whenthe keel grated on the shore. "Come with me, Redford."

  The mate obeyed, following his commander towards the same ravine where,about four years before, they had seen poor Zeppa disappear among therecesses of the mountain. Redford felt a little surprise, and more thana little discomfort, at the peculiar conduct of his captain; but hecomforted himself with the thought that if he should attempt anyviolence, there was a brace of pistols in his belt, and a cutlass at hisside. He even for a moment meditated using the pistols when he lookedat Rosco's broad back; but he knew that some of the men in the boat hada sort of sneaking fondness for their captain, and refrained--at leasttill he should get out of sight of the boat and into the shelter of thewoods where his actions could not be seen, and any account of the affairmight be coloured to suit his convenience.

  Richard Rosco divined pretty well what was passing in his mate's mind.He also knew that as long as they were in sight of the boat, his enemywould not dare to injure him; he therefore threw his rifle carelesslyover his shoulder, and walked with the most easy air of nonchalance overthe strip of level land that lay between the sea and the forest thatfringed the mountain base.

  On the instant of entering the mouth of the ravine, however, he wheeledsuddenly round and said--

  "Now, Redford, you will lead the way, and I will direct you."

  The mate was startled, and his right hand moved, as if by involuntaryimpulse, toward the handle of a pistol.

  Instantly the muzzle of the captain's rifle was pointed at his breast.

  "Drop your hand!" he said sternly. "Another such threat, and I willshoot you with as much indifference as I would a sneaking dog. Now goon and do as I bid you."

  Redford gave in at once. He was at Rosco's mercy. Without a word hepassed on in advance, and ascended the ravine with a quick, steady step.To say the truth, he knew well that while his commander, on the onehand, would not threaten what he did not mean to perform, on the otherhand he would never shed human blood needlessly. He therefore felt lesstroubled than might have been expected.

  They soon reached a small eminence or rocky plateau, from which wasobtained a splendid view of the sea, with the barque floating like alarge albatross on its surface. From that point the boat could also beclearly seen, and every step of the path by which they had reached theeminence.

  "Now, Redford," said Rosco, throwing his rifle into the hollow of hisleft arm, so as to bring the muzzle full on the mate's chest, while,with the forefinger of his right hand, he lightly touched the triggers,"draw your pistols from your belt, and be very careful how you do it--very careful--for if, even by chance, you touch hammer or trigger, youare a dead man."

  There was something of banter in Rosco's manner, yet this was associatedwith an air and tone of such calm decision that the mate felt curiouslyuncomfortable. He obeyed orders, however, promptly, and stood with apistol in each hand. It must have been a tantalising position, for, hadthey been cocked, he could have blown out Rosco's brains in a moment.Indeed, he was sorely tempted to break the half-cock catch on the chanceof one or both going off, but his commander's eye and muzzle forbade it.

  "Drop them," said Rosco, suddenly.

  If they had been red-hot irons, the mate could scarcely have let them gomore quickly. It almost seemed as if his guilty desire had passed intothe weapons and intensified the laws of gravitation--they came to therock with such a clatter.

  "That will do. Now, two paces step--back, march! Splendid. Why,Redford, I had no idea you were so well up in your drill," said Rosco,stepping to the spot beside the pistols, which the mate had justvacated. "You are fit to act fugleman to the British army. Now, claspyour hands behind your back, and don't unclasp them till I give youleave. It's a new piece of drill but not difficult to learn."

  The cowed pirate was too much alarmed to be amused by this last sally.He stood, sulkily it is true, but anxiously, awaiting further orders.

  "Look here, Redford," continued the pirate captain. "I want to prove toyou that the distance from this spot to the boat is about five hundredyards. You see that gull on the water? It is about the same distanceoff as the boat--well--"

  He sighted his rifle for five hundred yards, took a rapid aim, fired,and the gull, leaping its own height out of the water, fell back dead.

  "Oh! don't start my fine fellow, you forget the _other_ barrel!"

  The reminder was in time to check an unwise impulse on the mate's part.

  "Now," continued Rosco, assuming a more serious tone, "I have broughtyou here for a last conversation. You have long desired to command thatvessel, and I have long desired to resign the command. We shall bothhave our desires gratified this day. I intend to take up my abode here;you are free to go where you please--but not to come here again. Lay mywords to heart, now, and let me advise you to impress them on your crew.If you ever venture to come to this island again, I promise you toshoot every man that puts his foot upon the shore, and to shoot all t
hatfollow, as long as my ammunition lasts. And, you see, I have brought apretty large bag of it on shore, which I do not mean to waste on gulls,or anything else. I mean to keep it entirely for your benefit, myworthy friend--so, after this warning, you will please yourself, andtake your own course. Now, go down to the boat; row straight back toyour ship, tell your crew whatever you choose as to our interview, andgo where you please. But bear in mind that my rifle will cover youduring every step that you take from this spot down to the beach, ay,and after you have left the beach too, until you are safe on board.Remember, also, that the rifle is sighted for one thousand yards, andthat the barque is not much farther off than that. Go!"

  The last word was uttered in such a tone, that Redford instantly turned,and, without even a word of reply, retraced his steps to the shore.Then he promptly embarked, and the men promptly shoved off while Roscosat on the rocky eminence, quietly watching them.

  No words did Redford speak to his wondering men, except such as wereneeded to direct the boat. On gaining the vessel, he sprang up theside, ordered all sail to be set and the guns to be loaded. When thevessel had increased her distance a few hundred yards from the shore, hebrought her broadside to bear on the land, and then, having carefullylaid the guns, gave the word to fire.

  The hull of the pirate vessel was instantly enveloped in a snowy curtainof smoke, and, next moment, the echoes of the hills were rudely startledby a thunderous crash, while a dozen or more iron balls burst likebomb-shells on the cliffs immediately above the spot where Rosco sat,sending showers of rock in all direction; and driving the sea-mews inshrieking terror from their nests.

  "A mere waste of ammunition," murmured Rosco, with a contemptuous curlof his lip, as he rose. "But the next may be better aimed, so I'll bidyou good-bye, Redford!"

  Descending into the ravine, he was soon safe from the iron messengers ofdeath, of which the enraged Redford sent another group ashore beforefinally bidding the island farewell.

  Now, it so happened that Zeppa was ascending the Sugar-loaf mountain onits other side, when all this cannonading was going on. He wasnaturally surprised at such unwonted sounds, and, remembering thatcannon implied ships, and that ships were necessary to deliverance fromhis enforced exile, he naturally hastened his steps, and experienced anunusual degree of excitement.

  When he reached his favourite outlook--a ledge of flat land on thesouthern face of the hill, partially covered with bushes--he saw thepirate vessel sailing away from the island, and the smoke of her twobroadsides rising like two snowy cloudlets into the blue sky. At firstan expression of disappointment flitted across Zeppa's countenance, butit quickly passed, leaving the usual air of childlike submission behind.He sat down on a ledge of rock, and gazed long and wistfully at theretreating vessel. Then, casting his eyes upwards to the blue vault, hegave way to an impulse which had been growing upon him for some time--hebegan to pray aloud.

  It was while he was engaged in this act of devotion that Richard Roscocame upon the scene.

  At the first sound of the madman's deep voice, the pirate stopped andlistened with a feeling of superstitious dread which seemed to check thevery action of his heart--for, at the moment, a few bushes concealed hisold enemy from his sight. Stepping cautiously forward, he could seethrough the interlacing boughs without himself being seen; and then theblood forsook his visage, and his limbs trembled as if he had been aparalysed old man.

  Could the man before him, in tattered garments, with the dishevelledmass of flowing, curly, iron-grey hair, with the long, heavy beard andmoustache, the hollow cheeks, and the wonderfully solemn eyes--could_that_ be Zeppa? It seemed impossible, yet there was no mistaking thewell known and still handsome features, or the massive, sinewy frame--still less was it possible to doubt the deep, sonorous voice. Butthen--Zeppa had been seen on Ratinga Island, and the description givenof him by those who had seen him had been so exact that Rosco had neverdoubted his return home and recovery of reason.

  Whatever he thought or felt, however, the pirate's whole being was soonabsorbed in the madman's prayer. It was simple, like himself. He askedfor permission to return home, and made a humble confession of sin.From the tenor of it, there could be no doubt that poor Zeppa had cometo regard his exile as a direct punishment from God. Then the prayerchanged to a petition for blessings on his wife and son and the deepvoice became deeper and full of tenderness.

  The pirate experienced a shock of surprise--was the son, then, stillalive? And, if so, how came Zeppa to know? He could not know it! Theman before him must either be the creature of his own disordered fancy,or a real visitant from the world of spirits!

  As these thoughts coursed like lightning through the pirate's brain, hewas suddenly startled by the sound of his own name.

  "And Rosco," said the madman, still looking steadily up into the sky,while a dark frown slowly gathered on his brow--"Oh! God, curse--no--no, no. Forgive me, Lord, and forgive _him_, and save him from hissins." He stopped abruptly here, and looked confused.

  The mention of the pirate and his sins seemed to remind the poor fatherthat his son had been murdered, and yet, somehow, he had fancied himalive, and had been praying for him! He could not understand it at all.The old look of mingled perplexity and patient submission was beginningagain to steal over his face, and his hand was in the familiar act ofpassing over the troubled brow, when Zeppa's eyes alighted on Rosco'scountenance.

  It would be difficult to say which, at that moment, most resembled amaniac. The sight of his enemy did more, perhaps, to restore Zeppa to aspurious kind of sanity than anything that had occurred since the fatalday of his bereavement, and called up an expression of fierceindignation to his countenance. All memory of his previous prayervanished, and he glared for a moment at the pirate with intense fury.

  At the same time Rosco stood with blanched cheeks, intense horror in hiseyes, his lower jaw dropped, and his whole frame, as it were,transfixed.

  The inaction of both was, however, but momentary. The madman sprang up,clutched the heavy staff he was wont to use in climbing the hills, andrushed impetuously but without word or cry at his foe. The pirate,brave though he undoubtedly was, lost all self-control, and fled inabject terror. Fortunately, the first part of the descent from the spotwas unobstructed; for, in the then condition of their feelings, both menwould probably have flung themselves over any precipice that had lain intheir way. A few moments, however, sufficed to restore enough ofself-possession to the pirate to enable him to direct his course withsome intelligence. He naturally followed the path by which he hadascended, and soon gained the beach, closely followed by Zeppa.

  In speed the two men were at the time well matched, for any advantagethat Zeppa had in point of size and strength was counterbalanced by theyouth and superstitious terror of Rosco. At first, indeed, the madmangained on his foe, but as the impetuosity of his first dash abated, thepirate's courage returned, and, warming to the race, he held his ground.

  Like hare and greyhound they coursed along the level patch of groundthat lay on that side of the island, until they came in sight of theswampy land, covered with low but dense wood which bounded the lands ofthe Raturans. Dismay overwhelmed the pirate at first sight of it. Thenhope rebounded into his soul, and he put on a spurt which carried himconsiderably ahead of his pursuer. He reached the edge of theswamp-land, and dashed into its dark recesses. He had barely entered ita few yards when he plunged into water up to the neck. The heavy rootof a tree chanced to hang over him. Drawing himself close beneath it,he remained quite still. It was his best--indeed his only--chance.

  Next moment Zeppa plunged headlong into another part of the samehalf-hidden pool. Arising, like some shaggy monster of the swamp, withweeds and slimy plants trailing from his locks, he paused a moment, asif to make sure of his direction before resuming the chase. At thatmoment he was completely in the power of the pirate, for his broad backwas not more than a few feet from the screen of roots and tendrils bywhich Rosco was partially hidden. T
he temptation was strong. Thepirate drew the keen knife that always hung at his girdle, but a feelingof pity induced him to hesitate. The delay sufficed to save Zeppa'slife. Next moment he seized an overhanging branch, drew himself out ofthe swamp, and sped on his way; but, having lost sight of his enemy, hesoon paused and looked round with indecision.

  "It must have been a dream," he muttered, and began to retrace his stepswith an air of humiliation, as if half ashamed of having given way tosuch excitement. From his hiding-place the pirate saw him pass, andwatched him out of sight. Then, clambering quickly out of the stagnantpool, he pushed deeper and deeper into the recesses of the morass,regardless of every danger, except that of falling into the madman'shands.