Many with trust, with doubt few are undone.
LORD BROOK.
Doubt wisely: in strange way
To stand inquiring right, is not to stray;
To run wrong, is.
DONNE.
When the hatches were taken off on board of the privateer, the
prisoners, as they came up, were handed into the boats. Jerry stood at
the hatchway, with his cutlass in his hand, making his sarcastic remarks
upon them as they appeared. A short interval had elapsed, after it was
supposed that everybody had come from below, when a tall, thin
personage, in the dress of a landsman, crawled up the hatchway.
"Halloo!" cried Jerry; "Mr Longtogs, who have we here? Why, he must be
the _padre_. I say, mounseer, _je_ very much suspect, _que vous etes_
what they call a Father Confessor, _n'est-ce pas_? Devilish good idea.
A privateer with a parson! What's your pay, mounseer?--a tenth, of
course. Little enough too for looking after the souls of such a set of
damned rascals. Well mounseer, _vous etes prisonnier_, without benefit
of clergy; so hop into that boat. Why, confound it, here's another!"
continued Jerry, as a second made his appearance. "He's the clerk, of
course, as he follows the parson. Come, Mont' Arrivo Jack! What a
cock-eye the rascal has!"
During this elegant harangue, which was certainly meant for his own
amusement more than for their edification, as Jerry had no idea but that
they were belonging to the privateer, and of course could not comprehend
him, both the parties looked at him, and at each other, with
astonishment, until the first who had appeared addressed the latter
with, "I say, Paul, did you ever see such a thing before? Damn it, why
he's like a sixpenny fife,--more noise than substance."
Jerry at once perceived his mistake, and recollected that the master of
the vessel which they had boarded had mentioned that two English
merchants had been taken out of her by the privateer, with the hopes of
ransom; but, nettled with the remark which had been made, he retorted
with--
"Well, I'd recommend you not to attempt to play upon me, that's all."
"No, I don't mean, for I should only make you squeak."
"You are the two gentlemen who were detained by the privateer, I
presume," said Pearce, the master, who had come on board to superintend
the necessary arrangements previous to her being sent in.
"We are, sir, and must introduce ourselves. My name is Mr Peter
Capon--that of my friend, designated by that young gentleman as
Cock-eye, is Mr Paul Contract. Will you oblige us with a boat to go on
board of the frigate, that we may speak to the captain?"
"Most certainly. Jump into the first cutter there. I am sorry you have
been so unpleasantly situated, gentlemen. Why did not you come on deck
before?"
Peter did not state the real ground, which was to secure their property,
which was below, from being plundered by the privateer's crew; but,
wishing to pay off Jerry for his impertinence, replied--
"Why, we did look up the hatchway several times, but there was something
so awful, and, I may say, so un-English-like, in the appearance of that
officer, with his drawn sword, that we were afraid; we could not imagine
into whose hands the vessel had fallen--we thought it had been captured
by the Yahoos."
"Houyhnhnms, more likely. You'll find I'm a bit of a horse," replied
Jerry, in a passion.
"By Jove, then, you're only fit for the hounds," observed the gentleman
with oblique vision; "I should order you--"
"Would you? Well, now I'll order you, sir," replied the youngster,
whose anger made him quite forget the presence of his commanding
officer--"Have the goodness to step into that boat."
"And I shall order you, Mr J---," observed the master, with
asperity--"I order you to go into that boat, and take these gentlemen on
board, and to hold your tongue."
"Ay, ay, sir. This way, sir," said Jerry to Mr Peter, making him a
polite bow, and pointing to the boat at the gangway--"In that direction,
sir, if you please," continued Jerry, bowing to Mr Paul, and pointing
to the quarter of the vessel.
"And why in that direction, sir?" observed Paul, "I am going on board of
the frigate."
"I know it, sir; it was considerate on my part: I was allowing for the
angle of obliquity in your vision. You would have exactly fetched the
boat."
The indignation of Mr Paul was now at its height; and Pearce, the
master, who was much annoyed at Jerry's excessive impertinence, which he
knew Captain M--- would never have overlooked, detained the boat for a
minute, while he wrote a few lines to Price, requesting him to send the
bearer of it to the masthead, upon delivery, for his impertinent
conduct. "Mr J---, take this on board, and deliver it from me to the
commanding officer."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied Jerry. "Shove off there, forward."
Mr Peter looked Jerry earnestly in his face for some time, as they were
pulling on board.
"Well now, damn it, I like you, if it's only for your excessive
impudence."
"A negative sort of commendation, but I believe it the only one that he
has," replied the other, in a surly tone.
"Highly flattered, sir," replied Jerry to Mr Peter, "that you should
perceive anything to induce you to like me; but I am sorry I cannot
return the compliment, for I really cannot perceive anything to like you
for. As for your friend there, I can only say, that I detest all
_crooked_ ways.--In bow forward!--way enough. Now, gentlemen, with your
permission, I'll show you the road," said the youngster, climbing up the
side.
Jerry, who had some suspicion that the note was not in his favour, took
the liberty, as it was neither sealed nor watered, of reading it under
the half-deck, while Price was showing the two gentlemen into the cabin.
Not to deliver a note on service was an offence for which Captain
M--- would have dismissed him from the ship; but to be perched up, like
a monkey, at the mast-head, in the afternoon, after having fought like a
man in the morning, was very much against the grain. At any other time
he would have cared little about it. He went upon deck again, where he
found Prose on the gangway--"Well, Prose, my boy, how are you?"
"Why, upon my soul, Jerry, I am tired to death. Seven times have I been
backward and forward to that abominable privateer, and now my tea is
ready, and I am ordered to go again for these gentlemen's things."
"Well, that is hard. I will go for you, Prose, shall I? Where's the
boat?"
"All ready, alongside. Well, now, it's very kind of you, Jerry, I do
declare."
Jerry laid hold of the man-ropes, and began to descend the side--and
then, as if recollecting himself of a sudden, said, "Oh, by the bye, I
had nearly forgot. Here's a note from the master to Mr Price. Give it
him, Prose."
"Yes, Jerry, I will," replied Prose, walking over to the side of the
quarter-deck where Price was carrying on the duty, while Jerry made all
the haste he could, and shoved off in the boat.
"A note, sir, from Mr Pearce, the master."
"Hum," said Price, running it over. "Mr Prose, go up to the masthead,
and stay there till I call you down."
"Sir!" replied Prose, aghast.
"No reply, sir--up immediately."
"Why, sir, it was--"
"Another word, sir, and I'll keep you there all night," cried Price,
walking forward, in furtherance of the duty he was carrying on.
"Well, now, I do declare! What have I done?" said Prose, with a
whimpering voice as he reluctantly ascended the main-rigging, not
unperceived by Jerry, who was watching the result as he pulled on board
of the privateer.
"Come on board for these gentlemen's clothes, sir," said Jerry,
reporting himself to Mr Pearce, who, not a little surprised to see him,
inquired--
"Did Mr Price receive my note?"
"Yes, sir, he did."
"Why, I requested him to masthead you!"
"Many thanks, sir, for your kindness," replied the youngster, touching
his hat.
Pearce, who was annoyed that his request should not have been complied
with, stated his feelings on the subject to Price, when he returned to
the ship in the evening.
Price declared that he had sent Prose to the masthead, and had not
called him down until eight o'clock. The affair was thus explained, and
Jerry was pardoned for the ingenuity of his _ruse de guerre_, while all
the comfort that was received by the unfortunate Prose, was being
informed, on the ensuing morning, that it was all a mistake.
The prize being now ready, Captain M--- desired Courtenay to take charge
of it, and select two of the midshipmen to accompany him. His choice
fell upon Seymour and Jerry: the latter being selected rather for his
own amusement, than for his qualities as an officer. The distance to
Jamaica, to which island he was directed to proceed, and from thence
with his crew to obtain a passage to Barbadoes, was not great, and
Captain M--- did not like to have the frigate short manned; he was
therefore not allowed to take more than ten seamen with him, five
prisoners being sent on board, to assist in navigating the vessel. Mr
Capon and Mr Contract, at their own request, went as passengers.
In the afternoon, as soon as the provisions were on board, Courtenay
received his written orders, and in a few hours the frigate was out of
sight. They had barely time to stow away everything in its place, and
make the necessary arrangements, when a heavy North East swell, and
lowering horizon, predicted a continuance of the fair wind, and plenty
of it. So it proved; the wind increased rapidly, and the men found it
difficult to reduce the canvas in sufficient time. Before dark, the
wind blew with considerable force, not steadily, but in fitful gusts:
and the sun, as he descended in the wave, warned them, by his red and
fiery aspect, to prepare for an increase of the gale. The schooner flew
before it, under her diminished sail, rolling gunwale-to in the deep
trough, or lurching heavily as her weather quarter was borne up aloft by
the culminating swell. All was secured for the night; the watch was
set, and Seymour walked the deck, while Courtenay and the rest went
below, and at an early hour retired to their beds.
Among other reasons for selecting our hero as one of his assistants,
Courtenay was influenced by his perfect knowledge of the French
language, which might prove useful in communicating with the French
prisoners, who were sent on board to assist in working the vessel.
Jerry had also boasted of his talent in that way, as he wished to go in
the prize; and, although the reader, from the specimen which he has had,
may not exactly give credit to his assertions, yet Courtenay, who had
never heard him, believed that he was pretty well acquainted with the
language.
But, soon after they had parted with the frigate, when Courtenay desired
the French prisoners to lay hold of the ropes and assist in shortening
sail, they all refused. Seymour was not on deck at the time; he had
been desired to superintend the arrangements below: and although he had
been informed of their conduct, he had not yet spoken to the prisoners.
Two of them were sitting aft under the lee of the weather-bulwark, as
Seymour was walking the deck to and fro. They were in earnest
conversation, when Seymour stopped near to them, carelessly leaning over
the weather-quarter, watching the long following seas, when he overheard
one say to the other--
"_Taisez, peut-etre qu'il nous entend_."
"_Nous verrons_," replied the other--who immediately rose, and addressed
Seymour in French relative to the weather. What he had previously heard
induced our hero to shake his head, and continue to look over the
weather-quarter, and as Seymour only answered in the English negative to
a further interrogation, the prisoners did not think it worth while to
remove out of his hearing, but, satisfied with his not being able to
comprehend them, sat down again, and resumed their conversation. The
lurching of the vessel was a sufficient reason for not walking the deck;
but Seymour, to remove all suspicion, took another turn or two, and then
again held on by the ropes close by the Frenchmen. The wind blew too
fresh to permit him to catch more than an occasional sentence or two of
their conversation; but what he heard made him more anxious to collect
more.
"_Ils ne sont que seize, avec ce petit misere_," observed one, "_et nous
sommes_--" Here the rest of the sentence was lost. Seymour reckoned up
the English on board, and found that, with Billy Pitt, whom Macallan had
allowed Courtenay to take with him as his steward, they exactly amounted
to that number. The latter epithet he considered, justly enough, to be
bestowed upon his friend Jerry. A few minutes afterwards, he
intercepted--
"They'll throw us overboard, if we do not succeed--we'll throw them
overboard, if we do."
"_Courage, mon ami, il n'y aura pas de difficulte; nous sommes trop
forts_," replied the other, as, terminating their conversation, they
rose and walked forward.
It was evident to our hero that something was in agitation; but at the
same time it appeared perfectly incomprehensible, that six prisoners
should have even formed the idea of attempting the recapture of a vessel
manned with sixteen Englishmen, and that they should consider themselves
_so strong_ as to insure success. Determined to report what he had
heard to Courtenay, Seymour walked the remainder of his watch, was
relieved, and went below to his hammock.
The wind had increased during the night; but as it was fair, and the sky
clear, and the sun shone bright, the breeze was rather a matter of
congratulation when they met at breakfast in the morning, although Peter
and Paul complained of the violent motion of the vessel having taken
away their appetite. Seymour reported to Courtenay the fragments of the
conversation which he had overheard; and, insane as appeared to be the
idea of recapture, the latter agreed with him that it demanded caution
on their parts: but as it would appear very opposite to the English
character to take open measures against six prisoners, when they were so
numerous, he contented himself with desiring all the arms and ammunition
to be stowed in the cabin, and gave orders that the prisoners, as they
refused to work, should not be allowed to come on deck after dusk,--and
then gave the affair no further thought. Seymour was aware that,
although it was his duty to report the circumstance, he had no right to
press the matter upon Courtenay, who was to be supposed the best judge;
still he was not satisfied. He had an unaccountable foreboding that all
was not right. He turned the subject in his mind until dinner was
announced by Billy Pitt, which put an end to his reverie.
The violent jerking motion of the vessel made it no easy task to retain
a position at table, which was securely lashed. As for placing on it
the whole of the dinner at once, decanters, etcetera, that would have
been certain destruction; a plate and spoon for their soup was all which
Billy Pitt, who was major-domo, would trust them with. Paul, who was
not the best sailor in the world, had secured to himself the seat to
windward, and it consequently fell to his lot to help the pea-soup,
which was placed at the weather-side of the table. To save time and
breakage,--two important things in a sea-mess,--they all held their own
plates, which they thrust in towards the tureen from the different
quarters of the table to receive their supply. Paul having helped those
nearest to him, rose from his chair that he might see to fill the plates
on the other side of the tureen. He was leaning over, his centre of
gravity being considerably beyond the perpendicular, when a heavy sea
struck the vessel, and threw her nearly on her beam-ends, pitching Paul
right over the table to leeward. With the tureen, which he did not
forget to take with him, he flew into Jerry's arms, and they rolled
together on the floor. The contents of the tureen were rapidly
deposited in the open bosom of Jerry, who disengaged himself from the
embraces of his enemy as fast as he could, amidst the laughter of his
companions.
"Well, you asked for soup," observed Courtenay.
"Yes, and my friend has helped me very liberally," replied Jerry, who
was not at all out of humour, except when he was foiled with his own
weapons. In the meantime, Paul, who was a little stunned with the blow
he had received on his head, had continued on the floor rolling in the
pea-soup, and was just attempting to get on his legs.
"You've got it all to yourself there, Mr Paul. As you seem to like it,
perhaps you would prefer a spoon," said Jerry, offering him one at the
same time.
"I say, Paul, what a capital harlequin you would make," observed Peter.
Paul, who had recovered his legs, and now clung on by the table, looked
an answer horribly asquint, as if he did not admire the joke; but he
resumed his seat at the table.
The remainder of the dinner was brought down without further accident
occurring; and by the time it was over, as the bottle had to be passed
round, and everybody was obliged to drink off immediately, and put his
wine-glass inside his waistcoat to save it from perdition, they all were
very merry and happy before the repast had been concluded. "There,"
said Jerry, stroking himself down when he had finished his cheese, as if
he were a Falstaff; "a kitten might play with me now."
"More than one dare do with me," rejoined Peter, "for I'm cursedly
inclined to _shoot the cat_."
But as the second evening closed in, the sky was loaded with heavy
clouds--the scud flew wildly past them--the sea increased to mountains
high--and the gale roared through the rigging of the schooner, which was
now impelled before it under bare poles. They were really in danger.
The hatches were battened down fore and aft--the ports were knocked out
to allow the escape of the water, which poured over in such volumes as
would otherwise have swamped the vessel--and Courtenay and his crew
remained on deck until dawn of day, when the violence of the gale seemed
to have abated.
Courtenay desired Seymour and Jerry to turn in, and relieve him at eight
o'clock. Our hero and Jerry went down into the cabin, where they found
the two passengers, who, although they had not come on deck during the
night, had not retired to bed. Peter was sitting up to windward on the
locker, looking very pale and very sea-sick. Paul was on the
cabin-floor, with one hand holding on by the leg of the table, and a
bottle of brandy in the other. His prayer-book he had abandoned during
a fright, and it was washing about in the lee-scuppers. Jerry was
delighted, but put on a rueful face.
"Well," observed Paul, who was nearly frightened out of his wits, "how
is it now?"
"Worse and worse," replied Jerry; "there's nine inches water in the
well."
"Oh, my God!" cried Paul, who was not very _au fait_ at nautical
technicalities,--raising one eye up to heaven, while the other appeared
to rest upon the bottle of brandy.
"But why don't you turn in?" said Jerry: "we can go to the bottom just
as comfortably in bed as anywhere else."
"I agree with you," replied Peter, who had often been at sea, and knew
very well that all was right, by the two midshipmen coming off deck.
"My mother prophesied that I never should die in my bed; but I'm
determined that I will."
"You had better turn in, Mr Paul," said Seymour, kindly; "I'll ring for
the steward."
Billy Pitt made his appearance. "By gad, gentlemen, the damned schooner
under water."
"Under water!" cried Paul, with dismay. The bottle was applied to his
mouth, as if he was determined to leave as little room as possible for
the element which he expected instantaneously to be struggling in.
With the assistance of Billy, Paul was placed in one of the standing
bed-places at the side of the cabin. Jerry put his brandy-bottle at the
side of his pillow--kindly informing him that he would have an
opportunity of taking a few more swigs before he went down, for the
water was only up to her bends at present. Peter was already in the cot
next to him, and Seymour and Jerry turned in, without taking off their
clothes, in Courtenay's bed on the other side of the cabin. Before they
had fallen asleep, they heard Paul cry out, "Peter! Peter!"
"Well, what do you want?"
"Do you think there are any hopes?"
Peter, who wished to frighten his companion, replied gravely--"I am
afraid not; but, Paul, I've just been reflecting upon the subject. Here
we are, two men considerably on the wrong side of forty. We have
enjoyed our youth, which is the happiest period of our life. We are now
fast descending the hill to old age, decrepitude and disease--what
avails a few more years, allowing that we are spared this time? Don't
you perceive the _comfort_ of my observations?"
Paul groaned, and made no answer; but even the creaking of the timbers
could not disguise the repeated cleck-cleck-cleck, as the brandy from
the bottle gurgled down his throat.