—“I’ll serve his mind with my best will.”
TIMON OF ATHENS.
A short time after the capture of Emmanuel Appadocca, there might be
observed a narrow canoe, with a single individual in it, far out at sea,
apparently going still farther out,—for it was lustily paddled against
the long sweeping waves that seemed at every moment to be about to bury
the frail bark under their heavy volumes.
The trade wind, which still blew, seemed to impede the progress of the
canoe, and it was evident that the solitary person, who sat in its stern,
found it necessary to exert all his strength in order to make any headway.
But whither away such a frail vessel in the immensity of the ocean, and
still going farther out to sea? and what could be the design of the
individual who seemed to brave so recklessly the fury of the waves?
Upon closer observation it might have been perceived, that the person who
sat alone at the stern of the canoe was our old acquaintance, Jack Jimmy.
As soon as his master was captured, he had taken to flight, but not with
the design of abandoning the interest of his young master, as he still
called Appadocca. He had managed to insinuate himself among the coteries
of boatmen and porters that skulked about the beach, and unobserved among
them, he had been able to watch what befell his master. Effectually he
saw Appadocca, when he was marched down a prisoner to the boat, and
witnessed his embarkation. He discovered by his inquiries, that the boat
belonged to the British man-of-war, that was then lying off the harbour,
and heard the tale which had by that time become a nine day’s wonder of
the place, “of a man who was taken by a pirate, thrown overboard, picked
up by a vessel, and had come to St. Thomas’ after the pirate, and had had
him taken.”
Jack Jimmy had now gained sufficient intelligence; his own sagacity
developed to him the whole extent of his master’s position.
“Good bye, buddee,” he cried, as soon as he had heard the last word of
the story, and set off, at the height of the speed at which his short
legs would carry him, and left his wondering story-tellers in convulsive
laughter at his apparent eccentricity.
Jack Jimmy kept running in this manner for nearly two hours, without any
abatement of the speed with which he had started. Perspiration flowed in
torrents over his cheeks, and those who met him, stopped to stare at the
individual who was so eccentrically giving himself such violent exercise
while exposed to the scorching rays of a vertical sun.
Jack Jimmy did not stop until he reached a secluded spot by the
sea-shore, where, at the foot of two opposing hills, the sea had eaten
away a deep recess, and had left as in exchange for the land which it had
robbed, numbers of strange and beautiful shells, that paved the place.
Within this natural shelter, some fishermen’s canoes were drawn up. Jack
Jimmy looked around him carefully, and seeing no one at hand, he walked
up to one of the canoes, and with two stones managed to grind asunder the
small rope with which it was fastened to a stake, and then concentrating
his powers, endeavoured to launch it. But his strength was not equal to
the task: vainly he repeated his efforts—still no success—he gave up the
task, for the moment, in despair, and sat on the ground and wept from
vexation.
His despair soon gave way to a fiercer feeling.
“You must go in de water,” he cried, addressing the canoe, and rising
in desperation, he applied his strength to it again;—it began to move
a little, “Tenk Gad,” Jack Jimmy cried. Again another strain:—it moved
again, and by little and little, Jack Jimmy got it nearer and nearer to
the water’s edge: by one long and straining effort he finally succeeded
in launching it.
He sprang into it as soon as it was afloat, tore up one of the thwarts,
and paddled with it vigorously out to sea.
When he had got at a considerable distance from land he stopped.
The sun was then sinking, shedding soft and sweet brilliancy over
the evening hour. “Yes, me ’member,” said Jack Jimmy, “wen we lef de
’chooner, you bin behind a wee”; and after having thus spoken to that
luminary, and probably made his calculations, in his own original way, he
steered the canoe towards the east, and continued the powerful use of his
paddle until he arrived at the spot where the reader has discovered him.
Jack Jimmy held his lonely course on the great ocean until next morning;
when he discovered the pirate vessel at a distance. He redoubled his
strokes, and made for her. In a short time he had gained her sides.
Arriving alongside, he nimbly jumped on board, and threw himself flat on
the deck, with his face downwards, and at the foot of Lorenzo, who was
standing with a spy-glass in his hand at the gangway.
The officer had perceived the small canoe, and on using his glass, he had
discovered that the lonely individual in it was Jack Jimmy. His mind at
once misgave him. The captain is taken was his first thought.
It was with impatient anxiety, therefore, that he inquired of Jack Jimmy,
when he got on deck, what had become of his master.
The little negro shook his head convulsively at the question, and
interjected, “Massa!” but seemed incapable of saying anything else.
Lorenzo waited a few moments, but Jack Jimmy could say nothing more.
“Speak, fellow,” cried he with vehemence, “where is the captain? Is—is—is
he taken?”
“Ah! Garamighty,” answered Jack Jimmy.
“Will you speak, sir,” cried Lorenzo with fury. “Is your master taken?”
Jack Jimmy shook his head violently again, and cried, “Yes, yes,
Garamighty, massa, massa!” he continued, “big, big English ship, take
massa.”
“And where is the ship?”
“In St. Thomas’, massa,” answered Jack Jimmy.
“Make sail,” was Lorenzo’s immediate command; “keep her way.”
The schooner immediately sheered off to the wind, and in an instant was
bounding over the waves for St. Thomas’.
When she neared the island, Lorenzo prudently cast her in the wind, and
remained lying too until it was dark, at which time he drew nearer the
harbour, and making use of a boat, recognoitred the “big English ship,”
as Jack Jimmy had described it.
After the officer had properly examined the large ship-of-war which held
his chief captive, and had managed to elicit further and more explicit
information from Jack Jimmy, whose excitement of nerves had now a little
subsided, he began to think of the measures which he ought to take to
effect the liberation of his friend and superior. His first impulse was
to fife to arms, to attack the huge fabric, whose very sides seemed
to frown destruction on the light schooner. Prudence, on reflection,
however, forbad such a step. There was too great disproportion between
the large ship and the small craft of the pirates, and between the
armament and complement of the one and of the other; and even if, by
a fierce and sudden assault, the pirates should carry the man-of-war,
what chance was there of rescuing the chief? Probably he was secured
in some deep recess below decks, whither, perhaps, even the roar of
the ship’s guns could scarcely echo; and if even the comparatively few
men that composed the crew of the schooner, could gain any advantage
over the four-times more numerous complement of the ship, it could only
amount to a mere temporary possession of the upper deck. Besides, the
whole harbour, on the event of a combat, would be alarmed, and it was
probable that the pirates, even if victors, would be entirely unable
to contend against the multitudes which would be dispatched against
them from the shore. “No, I must try other means,” thought the officer.
After much deliberation, he at last resolved on the plan of watching
the ship-of-war, and of discovering, by every possible means, in what
part of the vessel Appadocca was confined, so that he might attempt a
surreptitious entry on board, and carry away the prisoner.
For that purpose he sent three men ashore in disguise, that they might
procure as much information as possible. These were not long at a loss in
devising means for doing so.
The pirate schooner was manned by individuals who had been of a superior
class in society, before they exiled themselves from it. Chiefly men of
education, they were doubly dangerous in their illicit pursuits, inasmuch
as they could bring to bear upon their purposes, the assistance of art,
and the power of inventing.
They easily disguised themselves when they were a-shore, as vendors of
fruit, and as the other small dealers that may be seen of a-morning,
in their little canoes around the ships at anchor, in the ports of the
tropics.
In their assumed course of bartering, they managed to elicit from the
sailors of the man-of-war, intelligence about Appadocca, and the part of
the vessel in which he was confined.
As soon as they became possessed of as much information as they possibly
could procure, they returned on board the schooner, and carefully
narrated the sum of their observation to Lorenzo.
Return we now to Appadocca himself.