The Pirate Slaver

by Harry Collingwood

  Upon reaching the forecastle-head—the appointed spot of our rendezvous—I found it tenantless; but presently a man came lounging up to me from the group of workers about the hatchway, and, after peering into my face, inquired—

  “Got any ’baccy about you, mate? Mine’s down below in my chest, and I haven’t unlashed it yet. If you’ve got any, just give me a chaw, will ye, and maybe I’ll do as much for you another time.”

  “I am sorry to say that I have not any,” I answered. “I do not use it except in the form of a cigar now and then. But I expect my mate Simpson on deck every moment, and I have no doubt that he will be able to accommodate you. You are one of the new hands, shipped from the Bangalore, are you not? I don’t seem to remember having seen your face before.”

  “No, perhaps not, and it’s precious little you can see now, I should think, unless you’ve got cat’s eyes, and can see in the dark,” was the somewhat surly response. “Yes,” he continued, “I’m Joe Maxwell, late carpenter of the Bangalore, and—well, yes, ‘shipped’ is the word, I suppose. And pray who may you be, my buck, with your dandified talk—which, to my mind, is about as like any fo’c’s’le lingo that I ever heard as chalk is like cheese? Are all hands aboard this dashin’ rover of the same kidney as yourself?”

  “Scarcely that, I think, as you seem to have already had an opportunity of judging,” I answered, laughingly, as I glanced in the direction of the hatchway. “No,” I continued, determined to sound him forthwith, as his speech and manner seemed to indicate that he was by no means satisfied with his changed lot, “I am a naval officer, and a prisoner, I suppose I must call myself, although, as you see, I have the liberty of the ship. And now, having told you thus much, I should like you to tell me candidly, Maxwell, did you join this afternoon of your own free will, or under compulsion?”

  The man looked at me searchingly for a moment, and then said—

  “Well, I suppose when a man is asked a straightforward question the best plan is to give a straightfor’ard answer. So, mister, I don’t mind tellin’ you that I j’ined because I was obliged to; ’twas either that or a walk along a short plank.”

  “In fact, you joined merely to save your life,” I suggested.

  “Ay; pretty much as you, yourself, may have done,” was the answer.

  “I?” I exclaimed. “Surely, my good fellow, you do not mean to say that you imagine me—a naval officer—to have joined this crew of thieves and murderers?”

  “Blest if I know, or care,” the fellow answered roughly. “Only, if you’re a naval officer, as you say, and haven’t joined the ‘thieves and murderers,’ as you call ’em, I should like to know how you come to be rigged like a fo’c’s’le Jack?”

  I saw that the man was suspicious of me—perhaps thought I was endeavouring, for purposes of espionage, to fathom his real feelings with regard to the service into which he had been pressed; I saw, moreover, that my conjecture was correct, and that, despite his cautious replies, he was by no means satisfied with the arrangement, and so determined to be frank with him at once, tell him what I contemplated, and invite him to join me. As carpenter of the Bangalore he would be an especially valuable acquisition to our party. I accordingly did so; and before I had finished I had the satisfaction of seeing that his suspicions had completely disappeared, and that he was listening to me intently and respectfully. When I had brought my disclosure and proposition to an end, he at once said—

  “I’m with you, sir, heart and soul! Anything—even a raft—will be better than this thievin’ and murderin’ hooker and her cut-throat crew! Yes, sir, I’m with you, for life or death. But, please God, it shall be life and not death for all hands of us. Let us get away aboard at once, sir; I’m just longin’ to tread the beauty’s planks again; and as to scuttlin’ her—why, I’ll make it my first business, when I get aboard, to shape out a few plugs and take ’em down into the run with me—that’s the only place where they’ll be able to get at her under-water plankin’—and as soon as they’ve gone I’ll plug up them holes so that she’ll be as tight as a bottle, and never a penny the worse for what little they’re likely to do to her. But it would please me a precious sight better to knock out the brains of whoever dares to go down below to do the scuttlin’ business.”

  “No, no,” said I, “that would never do; the man would be missed, a search would be instituted, and heaven only knows what the consequences would be. No, the scuttling must be allowed to proceed, and the pirates must finally leave the ship with the conviction that she is slowly but surely sinking. If all goes well this craft will be out of sight before morning, and then, once clear of them, we shall have leisure to make our plans and carry them out.”

  “Right you are, sir, and right it is,” answered Maxwell. “You’ll have to be our skipper now, sir, for poor Capt’n Mason and all three of the mates is gone—one on ’em—Mr King—killed in the scrimmage, and t’others made to walk the plank—so you’ll be the only navigator that we can muster among the lot of us, as well as the ’riginator of this here scheme for gettin’ the better of these here Spaniards, so’ you’re the fittest and properest person to take charge. All that you’ve got to do, sir, is to give your orders, and I’ll answer for it as they’ll be obeyed.”

  * * *

  Chapter Seventeen.

  I escape from the Brigantine.

  At this moment Simpson rejoined me, bringing with him three more of the Bangalore’s crew; and while I was talking to them the other two men—those whom Simpson had previously discovered—came forward from the hatchway, where they had been lending a hand to strike the booty down into the hold, and informed me that they had found and spoken to eight of their shipmates, at work at the gangway and hatchway, all of whom were quite ready and more than willing to join me at any moment when the signal should be given. A little further inquiry elicited the information that our party now comprised all the survivors of the Bangalore’s crew who had, so to speak, made a virtue of necessity and shipped under Mendouca in order to save their lives; there being four others who had shipped willingly, and whom it had, therefore, been deemed inexpedient to approach with a proposal to join us, lest, in their zeal for their new chief, they should refuse and betray us all. Our party, therefore, was now complete, and all that remained to be done was to carry out our plans with as little delay as possible, and with twelve men at my back I felt tolerably confident of success; indeed, when I first learned our full strength, the wild idea flashed through my mind of attempting not only to save the Bangalore, but also to capture the Francesca. A moment’s reflection, however, convinced me of the impracticability of this scheme, for although, with the assistance of the ten male passengers who, I learned, were at that moment prisoners in their own cabins on board the Indiaman, it might be possible to capture the Francesca, in the then disorganised condition of her crew, it would certainly involve some loss of life on our side, which we could not spare, and we should be able to do nothing with her when we had her, our whole available strength being hardly sufficient to handle and take care of the ship, should it come on to blow, much less to look after a prize as well. I therefore abandoned the idea, the more readily that I knew my story need only be told to the proper authorities to cause the brigantine to be hunted off the ocean, and her atrocities put an end to at once and for all.

  Our arrangements, therefore, were soon made; and this done, we sauntered away to the hatchway, singly and by twos at a time, and began to lend a hand in getting the plunder out of the boats and sending it below. Presently the Bangalore’s long-boat came alongside, loaded down to the gunwale with booty, and manned by half-a-dozen Spaniards who were so drunk that they could scarcely stand. One of them, indeed, would have lost his life but for Simpson and Maxwell; for the boat was steered alongside stem-on, and the shock of her collision with the brigantine completely upset the balance of the man who was standing in the bows to fend her off, so that he fell overboard between the boat and the brigantine’s side. The fellow was partially sober
ed by his sudden immersion, and finding himself overboard, began at once to sing out lustily for help, fully aware that there were probably several sharks still hanging about the two vessels, and momentarily expecting to feel their teeth; whereupon Simpson and Maxwell, both of whom happened to be at the gangway at the moment of the accident, sprang down into the boat and succeeded in dragging the fellow safely out of the water, though not a moment too soon, the water being all a-swirl with the rush of the sea-monsters as the man was dragged inboard. The fright that he had received completely sobered him, but at the same time so thoroughly shook his nerves that he at once scrambled on board the brigantine, declaring with many oaths that he had had enough of boating for one night. His mates were but little better, and were glad enough to leave the boat at my suggestion and allow me and my party to take their places.

  We quickly roused the boat’s cargo out of her, and then shoved off for the ship again, making a great fuss and splash with the oars as we did so. When a few fathoms away from the brigantine, however, where in the darkness our movements were not likely to attract a too curious attention, first one oar and then another was laid in until all had been laid in but one; and this one we shifted aft, sculling the boat with it not to the Bangalore’s larboard gangway, at which the other boats were working, but under the ship’s stern and to her starboard mizen channels, where we made her fast, and cautiously scrambled up on to the poop, one by one.

  Here we separated, the carpenter boldly making his way forward past the noisy, jabbering, drunken crowd who were grouped about the main-hatchway, engaged in hoisting on deck the goods that the boatswain, down in the hold, was selecting from the ship’s heterogeneous cargo, while the rest—excepting Simpson and myself—quietly stole up the mizen rigging, three of them concealing themselves in the top, while the rest, continuing on up the topmast rigging, made for the main and foretops by way of the stays; the lanterns which were being used to light the pirates at their work about the main-hatchway so effectually dazzling the drunken ruffians’ eyes, that there was not the slightest fear of any of the silent, sober figures stealthily moving about aloft being seen by them; indeed so deep was the gloom created between the masts by the towering expanses of the Indiaman’s canvas that even I, far away as I was from the dazzling light of the lanterns, was unable to follow with my eye the dusky, indistinctly-seen figures any further than the rim of the mizen-top. As for Simpson, it was quite possible for him to move freely about the ship and go wherever he pleased without exciting any suspicion, he being one of the Francesca’s regular crew; I therefore instructed him to go down into the saloon and ascertain whether any of his quondam shipmates were there, and to return to me with his information as speedily as possible.

  While he was gone I had time to look about me a little, and note such of the most prominent characteristics of the ship as were to be seen by the dim light of the stars. She was a noble craft, as big as the generality of our first-class frigates, though not quite so beamy, perhaps, in proportion to her length, not quite so high out of the water, and of course not so heavily rigged. She carried a magnificent full poop that reached as far forward as to within about twenty-five feet of the main-mast, with companion, skylight, deck-fittings generally, and poop ladders of polished teak, handsomely and elaborately carved. The fore-part of the poop extended some six feet beyond the cabin front, and underneath it her steering-wheel was placed, with a door on each side of it giving access to the grand saloon. A long row of hencoops ran along each side of the poop; and the deck was further littered with a large number of deck-chairs that had been hurriedly bundled out of the way behind the companion, probably when it was seen that the brigantine undoubtedly meant to attack. The main-deck exhibited all the confusion incidental to a sea-fight, the guns—sixteen twelve-pound carronades—still unsecured, with their rammers and sponges flung down on the deck beside them, shot lying in the scuppers, overturned wadding-tubs, cutlasses, pistols, boarding-pikes, strewed all over the deck, and—horrible sight—several dark, silent figures lying stark and still in pools of blood, just as they had fallen in the fight. The ship’s davits were empty, both her gigs having been lowered to facilitate the transfer of the plunder to the brigantine; her long-boat also was in the water, as already stated, but there were two fine cutters lying bottom up over the quarter-deck, their sterns resting on the break of the poop and their bows-on the gallows. It was a strange sight to look abroad into the dusky star-lit night and observe the boundless Atlantic stretching silent and still on every hand, and then to turn one’s eyes inboard and note the noisy, drunken, ruffianly rabble grouped about the hatchway, naked to the waist, and toiling in the dim lantern light at the tackles by which they were hoisting the bales of costly merchandise out of the hold.

  But I had not much time to devote to moralising upon the incongruous sight, for after an absence of some three minutes Simpson re-appeared from the saloon with the information that the place was clear, and that, judging from the sounds he had heard, the passengers had all locked themselves, or been locked, into their cabins.

  This being the case, I determined to go below and make a brief investigation of the condition of the unfortunate passengers, as well as to afford them such comfort as was to be derived from a communication to them of my intentions. I accordingly descended the companion-way leading down from the poop, and found myself in a small vestibule, the arrangement of which I could not very well see, as it was unlighted, save for the lamplight that issued from the open door of the saloon; I caught a glimpse, however, of polished panels of rare, ornamental woods, with gleams of gilded mouldings and polished metal handrails, and found my feet sinking into the pile of a soft, thick carpet, which gave me a hint as to the luxurious appointments of the ship. From this vestibule I passed into the saloon itself by a partially open door on the port side, and at once found myself in an exceedingly handsome and luxuriously furnished apartment. It was long and rather narrow in its proportions, having state-rooms on each side, as I could tell at a glance by the doors with Venetian slatted upper panels that occurred at regular intervals in the longitudinal bulkheads on each side of the cabin. These bulkheads were divided into panels by fluted pilasters with richly-carved and gilded capitals, supporting a heavily-carved cornice picked out with gold.

  The panels and pilasters were enamelled in a delicate tint of cream, with mouldings picked out in French grey, the former being decorated with very handsome paintings illustrative of Oriental views and scenery. Richly-upholstered divans occupied the spaces along the bulkheads between the several state-room doors; a long table of polished mahogany, having sofa seats with reversible backs on each side of it, stretched down the centre of the saloon, with another and shorter table flanking it athwartships at the after-end; a buffet loaded with richly-cut decanters and glass, backed up by a large gilt-framed mirror, occupied the whole space against the fore-bulkhead between the two entrance doors; and a very handsome piano, open, and with some music on it, occupied a similar position at the after-end of the saloon, two doors in the after-bulkhead proclaiming the existence of at least two more state-rooms. The apartment was lighted during the day by a large skylight filled in with painted glass—in which were fixed opposite each other a barometer and a tell-tale compass—and at night by two very fine silver-plated chandeliers each carrying six lamps, only four of which, however, were now lighted; and the deck was covered with a rich, thick carpet, apparently of Oriental manufacture, into which one’s feet sank with noiseless tread. The state-rooms were all in total darkness apparently, for I could catch no gleam of light issuing from the pierced upper panels of any of them; but the sound of an occasional sob or moan told me that some at least of them were occupied.

  I located one of the cabins from which these sounds came, and tapped gently at the door; there was no response, but the sounds instantly ceased. I tapped again, and said—

  “Will you open the door, please? I am a friend, and have some intelligence to communicate that may be interesting to you.”


  Still no response; but from the next cabin there now issued a man’s voice, inquiring—

  “Do I hear some one out there proclaiming himself a friend?”

  “Yes,” answered I. “I am a friend; and my present object is to communicate to you some intelligence that I hope may prove agreeable and comforting. I am quite alone and unarmed, and you may therefore open your cabin-door without fear.”

  “Sir,” replied the voice, “I know not who you are, or how you come to be on board this most ill-starred ship. Your voice, however, has a reassuring tone in it, and I would risk opening my door to you if I could; but I cannot, for—like all the rest of the passengers, I believe—I am bound and absolutely helpless, and I think that, if you will take the trouble to try, you will find that we are all locked in. Pray, who are you, sir? and how did you find your way on board the Bangalore? Are the pirates gone yet?”

  “No,” said I, as I tried the door and found that it was indeed locked. “I regret to say that they are not, and therefore I am for the present obliged to leave you in your uncomfortable situation. But take comfort, and believe me that it shall not be for one moment longer than I can help; the pirates are unlikely to very much prolong their stay now, and as soon as they are at a safe distance I will come again and release you all—provided, of course, that my plans do not go amiss. My name is Dugdale, and I am a naval officer—a midshipman—who has been unfortunate enough to fall into the hands of the pirates in an unsuccessful attack upon them more than a month ago, and this is the first opportunity that I have had to attempt my escape. I must go again now, as my discovery on board here by the pirates would mean utter ruin to us all; but I will return as soon as I can with prudence. Meanwhile,” slightly raising my voice so that all might hear, “take comfort, and hope for the best.”