“But I do not understand,” I cut in, as Mendouca paused. “What was the plot? and how was Lobo concerned in it? It appears to me that the man acted in perfect good faith; he gave us certain information which proved to be substantially correct—except that he was mistaken as to the force that we should have to encounter—and he safely piloted us to the spot from which our boat attack was to be made; I can see nothing like a plot or treachery in that.”
“No; of course you cannot, you sweet innocent,” retorted Mendouca, with fine sarcasm, “for the simple reason, as I say, that the British are altogether too trustful and confiding to see treachery or double-dealing until it is thrust openly in their faces. You are altogether too simple and unsuspicious, you navy men, to deal with the tricks and ruses of the slave-dealing fraternity; and before your eyes are opened you either die of fever, or are killed in some brush with us, or are invalided home.”
“It may be so,” I agreed; “but so general a statement as that does not in the least help me to see what was the character of Lobo’s plot, or even that there was a plot at all.”
“Well, I will tell you,” said Mendouca thickly, helping himself to another caulker of rum—he had already swallowed two tumblers of stiff grog since the subject had been broached, in addition to what he had previously taken—“I will tell you, because, having made up my mind that you shall never rejoin your own people, the information is not likely to do Lobo any harm. When you arrived at Banana Point on that particular morning, your presence seriously threatened to entirely upset a very important transaction which Señor Lobo had in hand, namely, the disposal and shipment of a prime lot of nearly a thousand able-bodied, full-grown, male blacks that he had got snugly stowed away in two big barracoons a short distance up the creek from his factory. Had your captain taken it into his head to land a party and make a search of the peninsula, the barracoons would have been discovered, and friend Lobo would have been a ruined man. So, as soon as your brig was identified as a man-o’-war—and that was as soon as she could be distinctly made out—another mistake that you man-o’-war’s men make, friend Dugdale; you can scarcely ever bring yourselves to disguise your ships; they declare their character as far as it is possible to see them.—Let me see, what was I saying? I have run clean off my course, and don’t know where I am.”
“You were going to tell me what happened when the Barracouta was identified from Banana Point as a man-o’-war,” said I.
“Ah, yes, exactly,” answered Mendouca. “Well, as soon as it was discovered that your brig was a British man-o’-war, every available hand was set to work to clear everything of an incriminating character out of the two brigs that were going to ship the slaves; so that, should you overhaul them—as I was told you did—nothing might be found on board to justify their seizure. This job was successfully completed only a few minutes before you entered the creek. But that would have availed Lobo nothing had your captain happened to have thought of landing upon the peninsula; the next thing, therefore, was to furnish him with a totally different subject to think about; and this Lobo found in the opportune presence of the four craft in Chango Creek. The captains of three out of the four vessels happened to be down at Banana when you arrived; and Lobo—who is gifted with quite an unusual measure of persuasiveness—had very little difficulty in convincing them that you would be absolutely certain to discover their hiding-place sooner or later, and that consequently it would be a good plan to inveigle you into making an immediate attack upon them; when, by concerting proper measures of defence, they might succeed in practically annihilating you, and so sweeping a formidable enemy out of their path. The three skippers fell in readily with his plan, when he had propounded it, and also undertook to secure the cooperation of the fourth; and as the creek offered exceptional facilities for a successful defence, it was accepted that you were all as good as done for, especially as Lobo had undertaken to cut the brig adrift at the right moment, so that she might be driven ashore and rendered useless for the time being, if not altogether. This matter arranged, the slave-captains left Banana forthwith to carry out their plans for the defence of the creek, taking a short cut by way of the back of the creek, and taking with them also every available man that Lobo could spare; the idea being to allow you to advance unmolested as far as the boom—which, they never dreamed that you would succeed in forcing—and then destroy you by a musketry fire from the banks, when, weakened by your unavailing attack upon the boom, you should at length be compelled to retire. Your astounding pluck and perseverance in forcing the boom completely upset all their plans, and converted what would have been for them an easy and bloodless victory into a disastrous defeat, while it saved the lives of the survivors of the attacking party. But though it turned out disastrously for Aravares, of the Mercedes, and his friends, the plot served Lobo’s purpose perfectly; the shipping of the slaves on board the two brigs which were waiting for them proceeding immediately that you were clear of the creek, and both vessels getting away to sea that same night. So that, you see, it is by no means as difficult a matter to deceive and hoodwink you man-o’-war people as you choose to suppose.”
“No,” answered I; “so it would seem. Yet, by your own showing, we were not the only deceived parties; and, after all, the attack was successful, so far as we were concerned.”
“That is very true, and only confirms what I have always insisted upon; namely, that, in making their plans, foreigners do not allow sufficiently for British pluck and obstinacy. Now I do; I never leave anything to chance, but always lay my plans so carefully that the destruction or capture of my enemies is an absolute certainty. But for such careful forethought on my part, the Sapphire’s two boats would never have fallen into my power.”
“The Sapphire’s boats?” I exclaimed. “Surely you do not mean to tell me that you are responsible for the massacre of those two boats’ crews?”
“No, not the massacre of them, certainly, but their capture,” answered Mendouca, with a smile of gratified pride.
“And are the people still alive, then?” I asked.
“They were when I last heard of them,” answered Mendouca. “But it is quite possible that by this time they—or at least a part of them—have been tortured to death by Matadi—the chief to whom I sold them—as a sacrifice to his fetish.”
“Gracious powers, how horrible!” I exclaimed. “And to think that you, an Englishman, could consign your fellow-countrymen to such a fate as that!”
“Why not?” demanded Mendouca fiercely; “why should I be more gentle to my countrymen than they have been to me? Do you think that, because I carry my fate lightly and gaily, I do not feel keenly the depth to which I have fallen? I might have been a post-captain by this time, honoured and distinguished for great services worthily rendered; but I am instead a slaver and a pirate masquerading under the disguise of a Spanish name. Do you think I am insensible of the immeasurable gulf that separates me from what I might have been? And it is my own countrymen who have opened that gulf—who have robbed me of the opportunity of reaching that proud eminence that was at one time all but within my reach, and have hurled me into the abyss of crime and infamy in which you find me. And you are surprised, forsooth, that I should avenge myself whenever the opportunity comes!”
I knew now from experience that it was quite useless to argue with Mendouca when he got upon the subject of his grievances; I therefore gave the conversation a turn by asking—
“Where, then, are these wretched people now, if indeed they are still alive?”
“I presume,” answered he, “that, if still alive, as you say, they are where I last heard of them; namely, at Matadi’s village; a place on the south bank of the Congo, about one hundred miles, or rather more, from its mouth. But why do you take such a profound interest in them?” he asked. “Possibly you are contemplating the formation of an expedition for their rescue, as soon as you have effected your escape from me?” and he laughed satirically.
My reply and his laugh were alike cut short
by the sound of heavy footsteps on the companion-ladder outside the cabin, and the next moment the boatswain made his appearance in the doorway with the intimation that a craft of some sort had just been made out, at a distance of about three miles broad on the starboard bow; and he wished to know whether the course of the brigantine was to be altered or not.
Mendouca sprang to his feet and hurried on deck, I following him.
On our first emergence from the brilliantly-lighted cabin the night appeared to be dark; but as our eyes accommodated themselves to the change of conditions, it became apparent that the cloudless sky was thickly gemmed and powdered with stars of all magnitudes, from those of the first order down to the star-dust constituting the broad belt of the Milky Way, all gleaming with that soft, resplendent lustre that is only to be witnessed within the zone of the tropics. Moreover, there was a young moon, a delicate, crescent-shaped paring, about two days old, hanging low in the western sky, yet capable, in that pure, translucent atmosphere, of yielding quite an appreciable amount of light. The water was still smooth as polished glass, even the swell having gone down so completely that its undulations were not to be detected by even the delicate test of watching the star reflections in the polished depths, while the brigantine was as steady as though still on the stocks where she took form and substance. The negroes were still toiling at the sweeps, and the watch, armed to the teeth, were clustered fore and aft, on the alert to guard against any attempt at an outbreak among them. The canvas was all closely furled, so that we had an uninterrupted view of the sky from horizon to zenith, all around, toward the latter of which the delicate, tapering, naked spars pointed as steadily as the spires of a church. The boatswain, however, was eagerly directing Mendouca’s attention toward small, dark object, broad on our starboard bow; and turning my gaze toward it, I made out a brig under her two topsails, jib, and trysail, with her courses in the brails. Mendouca had already seized the night-glass, and with its aid was subjecting her to a prolonged and searching scrutiny, upon the completion of which he handed the instrument to me, with the remark, in English—
“Take a good look at her, Dugdale, and tell me what you think of her?”
I took the glass, and, having brought the stranger into its field, soon managed, by an adjustment of the focus, to get a clear, sharply-defined image of her, as she floated motionless, a black silhouette, against the deep, velvety, purple-black, star-spangled sky. And as I did so a certain sense of familiarity with the delicate, diminutive, black picture upon which I was gazing thrilled through me. Surely I knew that low, long, shapely hull; those lofty, slightly-raking masts; those spacious topsails? Even the very steeve of the bowsprit seemed familiar to me, and I felt certain that the superbly cut jib and handsome trysail could belong only to the Barracouta! And, if so, how was I to act? It was plainly my duty to do anything and everything that might be in my power to promote the capture of the daring slaver and unscrupulous pirate, whose guest—or prisoner—I was; but had I the power to do anything? With that now thoroughly alert and even suspicious individual at my side, and the watch on deck all about me, it was clearly evident that nothing in the shape of signalling could even be attempted with the slightest hope or chance of success; and the only other mode of action that remained to me appeared to be to carefully conceal my knowledge—or, rather, very strong suspicion—as to the identity of the brig. I had barely arrived at this conclusion when Mendouca, with an accent of impatience, interrupted my reverie with the exclamation—
“Well, surely you have seen all that it is possible to see by this time? Or cannot you quite make up your mind as to her character?”
“I have an impression that I have seen her before, and it seems to me that she bears a very striking resemblance to the Spanish brig that was lying off Lobo’s factory on the day of our first arrival in the Congo,” said I; the happy idea suggesting itself to me, as I began to speak, that I might safely make this statement without any breach of the truth, all of us on board the Barracouta having observed and remarked upon the striking resemblance between the two craft.
“Um! it may be so,” muttered Mendouca, with a strong accent of doubt in his voice, however. “Let me have another look at her.”
I handed over the glass with alacrity, for it was about my last wish just then to be questioned too closely as to the character of the stranger; and Mendouca subjected her to a further long and exhaustive scrutiny. At its termination he turned to me, and, with an accent of unmistakable suspicion, inquired—
“It hasn’t suggested itself to you, I suppose, that yonder craft may be a British man-o’-war? You have seen nothing so like her in your own squadron as to lead to the suspicion that she may be a dangerous enemy whom I ought to be promptly warned to avoid?”
Now, had I not known that he had never seen the Barracouta, I should have scarcely known what reply to give to this home question; as it was, however, I answered at hazard—
“Well, at this distance yonder vessel offers to my eye very little resemblance to the usual type of British gun-brig; she is longer, and much lower in the water, and her masts are certainly further apart than is the case with our brigs generally, you must see that for yourself; and it would be unreasonable to expect me to give a more decided opinion at this distance and in so vague a light.”
“Will you swear to me that you are honestly of opinion that yon brig is not a man-o’-war?”
“Certainly not,” answered I, with pretended annoyance at his pertinacity. “She may be, or she may not be; it is quite impossible to express a more decided opinion, under the circumstances, and I therefore must decline to do so.”
And I turned and walked away from him with an air of petulance.
Mendouca laid down the telescope, walked to the binnacle, and peered intently for a moment at the compass.
“Keep her way two points more to the southward,” he ordered the helmsman.
This alteration in our course brought the brig about one point before our beam, distant about two and a half miles, and if persisted in, would soon have the effect of increasing the distance between the two craft; and, unless we were already seen, rendered it quite possible that we might slip past unobserved, our spars standing naked to the dark sky, and our hull lying low upon the equally dark water. There was, however, the hope that, even at the distance separating the two vessels, the roll and grinding of the heavy sweeps would be heard in the perfect stillness of air and water; and I felt confident that, if yonder brig were indeed the Barracouta, and the sounds referred to extended so far as to reach the sharp ears on board her, they would be identified, and their significance at once understood. But even as the thought passed through my mind it seemed to have also occurred to Mendouca; for he strode toward the waist and exclaimed in a low, clear voice that was distinctly audible fore and aft, but which would probably not have been audible half a cable’s length away—
“Let those niggers knock off sweeping for the present, and send them below. And as soon as they are there and you have clapped the hatches on—noiselessly, mind—let all hands set to work to muffle the sweeps with mats, old canvas, pads of oakum, or anything else that you can lay your hands upon. It is unfortunate that this was not thought of before; but it may not yet be too late.”
The negroes, grateful for this unexpected respite from their exhausting toil, and of course quite ignorant as to its cause, gladly tumbled below, and the gratings were carefully secured over them. Meanwhile the boatswain, with one hand, dived below, and in a short time the two men re-appeared with a load of miscellaneous stuff and some balls of spun-yarn; and all hands went diligently to work under Mendouca’s personal supervision, to muffle the sweeps, which was so effectually done that when, half-an-hour later, they were again manned, they worked with scarcely a sound beyond the rather heavy splash of their blades in the water. Meanwhile, during the progress of the muffling process—in which I had not offered to participate—I kept a keen watch upon the distant brig, taking an occasional squint at her throu
gh the night-glass when I thought it possible to do so without attracting Mendouca’s attention. I do not quite know what I expected to see, for of course I knew perfectly well that every eye in the brig might be steadfastly watching us, without our being able to detect any sign of such scrutiny; and I was moreover fully aware that should we have been discovered, and our character suspected, no visible indication of such discovery or suspicion would be permitted to reveal itself to our eyes; and the same studied concealment would equally apply to the preparations for any investigation that they might be moved to undertake. Still, I thought it just barely possible that by maintaining a strict watch I might chance to detect some sign of alertness on board the brig, if she were indeed the Barracouta, as I strongly suspected. Nor was I disappointed, for I did at length detect such an indication, not on board the brig herself, but at some considerable distance from her, and immediately under the slender crescent of the setting moon, where, while sweeping the surface of the water, moved by some vague instinct, I caught two faint momentary flashes of dim orange radiance that to me had very much the appearance of reflected moonlight glancing off the wet blades of oars. And if this were so it meant that we had been seen, our character very shrewdly suspected—most probably from the steady plying of the sweeps for no more apparently urgent reason than that we were becalmed—and that a surprise attack was about to be attempted from the very quarter where, under the circumstances, it was least likely to be looked for, namely, straight ahead. Of course what I had seen might merely have been a ray of moonlight glancing off the wet body of a porpoise, a whale, or some other sea creature risen to the surface to breathe; but it had so much the appearance of the momentary flash of oars that I was loath to believe it anything else. Assuming it to be what I hoped, my cue was now of course to distract attention as much as possible from that part of the ocean that lay immediately ahead of us; and this could not be better done than by concentrating it upon the brig, which now lay practically abeam of us, a short three miles away. I therefore—no longer surreptitiously but ostentatiously—again brought the night-glass to bear upon her, and allowed myself to be found thus when Mendouca came aft, after having personally superintended the muffling of the sweeps and the putting of them in motion again.
The Pirate Slaver Page 20