KIDNAPPED
AT THE END of the court the two parted, the Captain going on down to
the wharf and Jack up to the Golden Fish. He found the crimp and gave
him Hezekiah’s release, and then the redemptioners immediately began to
make themselves ready. There was something pitiful in the meagerness
of their preparation. One or two of them had nondescript bundles tied
up in handkerchiefs, and one had a pair of stockings wrapped up in a
piece of dirty paper. Beyond this they had nothing at all to take with
them to the new world to which they were bound. But they seemed to
borrow very little trouble on that score. They were very restless and
turbulent at the near prospect of sailing. They had somehow contrived
to obtain some liquor, and two or three of them were more than half
drunk.
The crimp brought them out into the court of the inn and arranged them
in some sort of order, two by two, by the dim light of the lantern.
They jostled and pushed one another, and leered in the lantern light
at Jack as he stood looking at them helplessly. “I’ll never be able to
take them down to the wharf by myself,” said he.
“Oh, you’ll be able to take us,” said a big, bull-necked fellow; “a
baby’d lead us wherever he chose for to go,” and then they all laughed.
“Well, I don’t know,” said the crimp, shaking his head as he looked
them over; “like enough I’d better go with you as far as the wharf. I
don’t know why he should have sent you to take ‘em, anyhow. Lookee!”
said he to the huddled line of servants, in a suddenly-changed voice;
“I won’t have none of your tricks, d’ye understand? D’ye see this?” and
he fetched a bludgeon out of his pocket and showed it to them. “The
first man as tries any of his tricks, I knocks him on the head, d’ye
understand?”
“Why, master,” said one of the men, “you wouldn’t hurt us, would you?
We be your lambs.”
“Never you mind,” said the crimp, shaking his head. “Don’t you go
trying any of your tricks on me. Come along now, march!”
“Hurrah for the Golden Fish and Johnny Waddels!” cried out one of the
men.
The others gave a broken and confused cheer as they marched away out
of the court, the crimp walking beside the first couple, and Jack
coming after to keep a lookout upon them. They marched along for a
while, first down one street and then another until they had come to
the water-front. The wind was blowing chilly. The bull-necked fellow
had begun to sing. They walked along for some little distance and then
crossed the street. Here the storehouses stood dark and deserted as
they passed by them. At last they came to the wharf, across which the
night wind swept without shelter.
“Well,” said the crimp, “I’ll leave you here. ’Tis no use my going any
further.”
“Yes,” said Jack, “I can manage them very well now by myself, I
suppose.”
“I’ll just wait under the lee of the shed here,” said the crimp, “till
I see you’re all right.”
“Very well,” said Jack. “Come along,” said he to the men as they stood
shivering in their thin, ragged clothes. The bull-necked fellow had
ceased his discordant singing. At Jack’s bidding they now marched out
along the wharf. There were lights out in the darkness at the end of
the wharf, where the sloop lay black and shapeless in the night. When
Jack came to where the light was he found two dark figures standing
waiting for him on the wharf. One of them was Captain Butts, the other
was the man in the knit cap, who now carried a lantern hanging over
his arm. There were two or three men, two of them also with lanterns,
standing on the deck of the sloop. Jack knew that the boat that had
brought the Captain off from the brig was lying in the darkness beyond,
for he could hear the sound of voices, and then the sound of the rattle
of an oar.
Captain Butts had twisted his handkerchief well up about his throat.
“Well,” said he, “I thought you was never coming.”
“I came as soon as I could,” said Jack.
“Just bring the men out to the boat, across the sloop here,” said the
Captain; and at Jack’s bidding the men, one after another, jumped down
from the wharf to the deck of the sloop below. Jack followed them, and
the Captain and the man with the lantern followed him. “Where’s your
list?” said the Captain, and then, as Jack gave it to him: “Hold the
lantern here, Dyce. That’s it.” He held the list to the dull light,
referring to it as he counted the shivering transports who stood in
line. “Sixteen—seventeen—eighteen—nineteen—nineteen all told.
That’s right. Now, then, look alive, my hearties, and get aboard as
quick as you can!”
Jack stood with his hands in his pockets and his back to the chill
night breeze. The wharf and the sloop, deserted in the night, seemed a
singularly dark and lonely background to the dimly moving figures. The
water, driven by the wind, splashed and dashed noisily around the end
of the wharf. One by one the redemptioners clambered clumsily over the
rail of the sloop and down into the boat alongside, stumbling over the
thwarts in the darkness and settling themselves amid the growling and
swearing of the sailors. “Are you all right?” asked the Captain.
“All right, sir,” said Dyce.
Suddenly the Captain turned sharply toward Jack. “Now, then,” said he,
“you get aboard too!” Jack gaped at him. “You get aboard too!” said
Captain Butts again.
“What do you mean?” said Jack.
“I mean that you’re going aboard too,” said the Captain, and as he
spoke he reached out and caught Jack by the collar. “That’s why you
were sent here,” said he, “and that’s what I’m bound to do. I’m bound
to take you to the Americas with me.”
Then Jack saw it all in a flash. He stood for one stunned instant, and
then he began struggling fiercely to loosen himself from the Captain’s
grasp upon his collar. The next instant he felt himself jerked
violently backward and he heard the Captain’s voice saying: “You get
into the boat down there! You’ll do as I tell you, if you know what’s
good for you!”
Jack twisted and struggled desperately and frantically, but still the
Captain held him in a grip like a vise. “Let me go!” gasped Jack. “Let
me go!”
“Into the boat, I tell ye!” he heard the Captain’s voice growling in
his ear, and at the same time he found himself flung forward violently
toward the rail of the sloop. The boats and the dark waters were just
below. He saw dimly, his sight blurred with the fury of his struggles,
the dark figures of the men in the boat below. He flung out his feet
against the rail, bracing himself against the Captain’s hold; at the
same time he clutched hold of the stays. “Here, Dyce, loose his hand
there,” said the Captain’s voice, panting with his struggles. “The
young villain! What d’ye mean, anyhow?”
The man with the knit cap sprang forward at the Captain’s bidding, and,
still holding the lantern, began to pluck Jack’s fingers loose from the
stays. Then suddenly Jack screamed out, “Help!—Help!—Help!” three
times, and at the same time he kicked backward violently against the
Captain’s shins.
“You will, will you!” wheezed the Captain. As he spoke he jerked Jack
violently backward. Jack had just time to see a whirling flash in the
light of the lantern. Then there came a deafening, blinding crash. Ten
thousand sparkling stars flew whirling around and around him. He felt a
hot stream shoot down across his face, and he knew that it was blood.
There was another crash, this time duller and more distant, then a
humming that droned away into stillness—then nothing.
* * * * *
“By blood! Captain,” said Dyce, “I believe you’ve killed the boy.”
The Captain thrust the pistol with which he had struck Jack back again
into his pocket. “The young villain!” he said, panting with his late
efforts. “He’ll kick me, will he? And he’d’a’ had the town down on
us if I hadn’t shut his noise.” He lowered down upon Jack’s figure
lying deathly still and in a dark heap on the deck. Dyce bent over
the senseless form, holding the lantern to the face. Jack’s eyes were
upturned. His legs and body twitched; his head was streaming with blood
and his face was bloody. Captain Butts stooped over him. “Oh! he’s all
right,” said he roughly; “he’ll come to by and by; he’s only stunned a
trifle. Get him aboard and be quick about it! There’s somebody coming
along the wharf now. Here; here’s his hat. Catch it there.”
[Illustration: “‘HE’LL COME TO BY AND BY; HE’S ONLY STUNNED A TRIFLE,’
SAID THE CAPTAIN.”]