A SWIM TO THE NAMUR
All was black, hopeless; with head buried in my hands I sat on a
thwart, dazed and stupefied, seemingly even unable to think clearly.
Before me, pleading, expressive of agonized despair, arose the sweet
face of Dorothy Fairfax. Nothing else counted with me at that moment
but her safety--the protecting her from the touch of that
blood-stained brute. Yet how, and through what means, could such
rescue be accomplished? No doubt by this time all was over--the dead
body of Sanchez discovered, the projected attack on the house carried
out, the two old men left behind, either dead or severely wounded, and
the girl borne off a helpless prisoner, together with the treasure of
fifty thousand pounds. Even if I knew where the drifting boat had
taken me, which way to turn to once again attain the wharf, the
probability remained that I should arrive altogether too late to be of
slightest service--the dastardly deed had already been accomplished.
Ay, but this I knew; there was only one place to which the villains
might flee with their booty--the _Namur of Rotterdam_. Only on those
decks, and well at sea, would they be safe, or able to enjoy their
spoils. The thought came to me in sudden revelation--why not? Was not
here a chance even yet to foil them? With Sanchez dead, no man aboard
that pirate craft would recognize me. I felt assured of this. I had
fought the giant negro in the dark; he could not, during that fierce
encounter, have distinguished my features any more clearly than I had
his own. There was no one else to fear. Although I had been stationed
at the wheel of the sloop as we swept past the _Namur_ while at anchor
the day before, yet Estada, watching anxiously for the secret signal
of his chief, would never have accorded me so much as a glance. His
interest was concentrated elsewhere, and, in all probability, he could
not swear whether I was black or white. If others of that devilish
crew had been secretly watching our deck it was with no thought of me;
and not one of them would retain any memory of my appearance. If only
I might once succeed in getting safely aboard, slightly disguised
perhaps, and mingle unnoticed among the crew, the chances were not bad
for me to pass undetected. No doubt they were a heterogeneous bunch,
drawn from every breed and race, and in no small force either, for
their trade was not so much seamanship as rapine and fighting. Such
ships carried large crews, and were constantly changing in personnel.
A strange face appearing among them need not arouse undue suspicion.
From what Estada had reported to Sanchez, I knew boats had been sent
ashore on this coast. What more likely then than that some new recruit
had returned to the bark, attracted by a sailor's tale? Who would know
how the stranger came among them, or question his presence, unless
suspicion became aroused? Even if questioned, a good story, easily
told, might win the trick. Before daylight came, and already well at
sea beyond pursuit, inconspicuous among the others, accepted as mate
by the men, unrecognized even by the officers, there was scarcely a
probability that anyone aboard would note, or question my presence.
And I felt convinced I could locate the _Namur_. Ay, even in that
darkness I could find the bark, if the vessel yet swung at her former
anchorage. The task would not even be a difficult one. The stars gave
me the compass points, and I recalled with some clearness the general
trend of the coast line as we came up. But could I hope to attain the
ship in advance of the returning party of raiders? To succeed in my
object this must be done, because the moment these reached the deck
the bark would hastily depart for the open sea. And if I was to
accomplish this end it must be attempted at once. The call to action,
the possibility of thus being of service to Dorothy, seemed instantly
to awaken all my dormant energies; the painful chafing of my wounds
was forgotten, while new strength returned miraculously to my bruised
body. God helping me, I would try! My brain throbbed with fresh
resolution--the call to action.
There were oars in the boat. I had noticed these dumbly before, but
now I drew them eagerly forth from the bottom, and quickly fitted them
into the oarlocks. They were stout, ashen blades, unusually large for
the craft in which they had been stowed, yet workable. The boat itself
was a mere shell, scarcely capable of sustaining safely more than
three persons, but with lines of speed, its sharp prow cutting the
water like a knife blade. I shipped the useless rudder inboard, and
chose my course from the stars. The north star was completely obscured
by thick clouds, but the great dipper gave me my bearings with
sufficient accuracy. To attain again to the west coast not far from
where the great point projected outward into the Bay, and behind which
the bark swung at anchor, required, according to my understanding of
our present position, that I head the boat toward the southwest. I
bent earnestly to the oars, and the speed of the craft was most
encouraging, especially as my strength and energy seemed to increase
with each stroke. My mind brightened also quite perceptibly, as the
violent exercise sent the blood coursing anew through my veins. Before
I realized the change I had become thoroughly convinced that the
course I had chosen was the wisest one possible.
It was wild, and desperate, to be sure. I was not blind to its danger,
and yet nothing else offered any solution. The only probable chance
now for me to prove of direct service to the captive girl lay in being
near her while she remained with these men. If, by any good fortune,
she had thus far succeeded in escaping from Estada and his gang of
ruffians, I would learn this fact more surely aboard the _Namur_ than
in any other way; and, once assured as to this, could certainly find
some means of early escape from the ship. While, if she was captured
and taken aboard, as was most probable, for me to be left behind on
shore would mean her total abandonment. Better any risk of discovery
than that. To be sure I had no plan of action devised, no conception
of how a rescue could be effected. Yet such an opportunity might
develop, and my one hope lay in being prepared, and ready. With the
death of Sanchez, his second in command would undoubtedly succeed
him; but would that be Estada, or would it be this other, the mulatto,
Francois LeVere? More likely the former, for while buccaneers had
operated under colored chiefs, a crew of white men would naturally
prefer to be led by one of their own color. Indeed it was even
possible that a controversy might arise, and a divided authority
result. Discipline among such as these depended entirely on strength
and ferocity. The most daring and resourceful became the chosen
leaders, whose only test was success. Perhaps, in the turmoil, and
uncertainty, arising from a knowledge of Sanchez's death, and the
jealousy thus aroused between those who would succeed him in command,
I might discover the very opportunity I sought. These were some of the
thoughts which animated me, and gave new strength to my arms, as I
sent the dory flying through the water.
My boat, unguided, had drifted considerably farther out into the Bay
than I had supposed, and it required a good half hour of steady toil
at the oars before I sighted ahead of me the darker outlines of the
shore. Nothing had crossed our path, and no unusual sound had reached
my ears along the black water. If the _Namur's_ boat had already
returned to the bark, its passage must have been made during the
period of my unconsciousness, and this seemed to me utterly
impossible. The course I had followed thus far took me directly across
the water which they would be compelled to traverse, and they could
not have passed unnoticed. No, they were surely yet in the
neighborhood of Travers' plantation. The men engaged in that night's
bloody business, would have been compelled to carry it out under many
obstacles; they would be delayed by consternation at the discovery of
their dead leader lying on the sand, and by their lack of knowledge
regarding the interior of the house on the summit of the bluff. Quite
likely also this lack of a guide would result in an alarm, and
consequent struggle, perhaps even in the serious injury of some among
them before they secured possession of the money, and the girl. In any
case it must have resulted in delay. Convinced of this, and confident
that I was already well in advance of them, I drew in as closely as I
dared to the dim outline of shore, and studied it carefully, in an
endeavor to learn my exact position.
Although the sloop in its voyage up the Bay had never been out of
sight of this coast, had indeed skirted it closely all the way, yet my
memory of its more prominent landmarks was extremely vague. I had made
no effort to impress them on my mind. Therefore at first I could
identify nothing, but finally, out of the grotesque, shifting shadows,
dimly appearing against the slightly lighter sky beyond, there
suddenly arose, clearly defined, the gaunt limbs of a dead tree,
bearing a faint resemblance to a gigantic cross. I recalled that Sam
had chanced to point this out to me on our upward voyage, and this
glimpse obtained of it again now told me exactly where I had made
shore. This peculiar mark was at the extremity of the first headland
lying north of the point itself, and consequently a straight course
across the Bay, would land me within five hundred yards of where the
_Namur_ had last been seen at anchor.
To a degree my immediate plan of action had been definitely mapped
out within my own mind while toiling at the oars. At least I had
arrived at certain conclusions. The one immediate object before me was
to attain the bark in advance of Estada. I now was convinced that thus
far I was safely ahead. The night wind was light, and baffling, not
greatly affecting my own progress, but of a nature to retard
considerably the sail-boat, and compel a series of wide tacks, so as
to enable those on board to round the point. All this distance I could
avoid by beaching my dory, and striking out on foot directly across
the narrow neck of land. The _Namur_, unless her position had been
changed since darkness set in, was not so far out from shore as to
make swimming to her a dangerous feat; and I could approach and board
her with far less chance of discovery in that manner, than by the use
of a boat. The watch on deck would undoubtedly be a vigilant one, yet
no eye could detect through that darkness--unless by sheer accident--a
submerged swimmer, cautiously advancing with silent strokes. The
greater danger would come after I had attained the deck, wet to the
skin.
The sharp bow of the dory ran up on the soft sand of the beach, and I
stepped ashore, hauling the light boat after me beyond the reach of
the waves. The night remained calm and still, although the scudding
clouds were thickening overhead, until scarcely a single star remained
visible. The sea behind me was overhung by a black curtain, yet, by
bending low, I could look along the surface for some distance where
the heaving water reflected from wave to wave what little light there
was. The beach was a narrow one, and only a few feet away the neck of
land became elevated into a leveled crest, thickly covered with
trees, their upper branches dimly visible from where I stood. Judging
from the trend of the coast, it would be necessary for me to strike
directly across to the opposite shore, but in this journey special
caution was not required. There would be no one in the midst of this
desolate region to interfere with my progress, or be alarmed by any
noise I might make. Close to shore as the _Namur_ lay, no ordinary
sound from the land could be heard aboard, even in the silence of
night, nor was it likely the crew would be watchful in that direction.
Unquestionably the entire attention of the deck watch at this hour
would be concentrated on the expected return of their expedition
around the distant point--seeking the glimpse of a white sail above
the black water.
To the best of my recollection the bark floated with bow pointing
toward the open sea. The sweep of the current about the point was
inshore, making the drift of the vessel strong against the anchor
hawser. This would naturally bring her with broadside to the eastward,
from which direction the absent boat must return. If this proved
correct then, in all probability, the deck watch would largely be
gathered on that side, even the attention of the officer more or less
drawn in that direction. No doubt they had orders to be ready for
instant departure the moment the approaching boat was sighted, and the
lookout for it would be keen. It was, as I stood there, revolving
these matters in my mind, with eyes endeavoring to pierce the
surrounding darkness, and ears strained to detect the slightest sound,
that there came to me the first real consciousness of the reckless
nature of this adventure upon which I had so lightly embarked. Surely
it was but the dream of a crazed man, foredoomed to failure. As I
faced then the probabilities, there scarcely seemed one chance in a
hundred that any such scheme as I proposed would succeed. And yet I
must admit there was the one chance; and in no other action could I
perceive even that much encouragement. If Dorothy Fairfax was already
in the hands of these men, then my only opportunity for serving her
lay in my being close at hand. No alternative presented itself; no
other effort could be effective. It was already too late to attempt
the organization of a rescue party; there was no warship on the coast,
and the authorities of the Colony possessed no vessel fitted for
pursuit. Long before daylight came, or I might hope to spread an alarm
abroad, the _Namur_ would be safely at sea. No, the only choice left
was for me either to accompany the girl, or else abandon her entirely
to her captors. I must either face the possibility of discovery and
capture, which as surely meant torture and death, or otherwise play
the coward, and remain impotently behind. There was no safe course to
pursue. I believed that I could play my part among the crew, once
securely established among them; that I could succeed in escaping
recognition even on the part of Cochose. If this was true, then, to a
stout heart and ready hand, a way might open even aboard the bark to
protect her from the final closing of the devil's jaws. I had nothing
to risk but my life, and it had never been my nature to count odds. I
would act as the heart bade, and so I drove the temptation to falter
away, and strode on up the bank into the black shadow of the trees.
I found extremely hard walking as I advanced through tangled
underbrush, over unlevel ground, the night so dark in those shadows I
could but barely perceive the outlines of a hand held before the eyes.
Fortunately the distance was even shorter than I had anticipated, but,
when I finally emerged upon the opposite beach, it was at once quite
evident that the sea beating upon the sand was decidedly heavier than
higher up the Bay, the white line of breakers showing conspicuously
even in the night, while their continuous roar sounded loud through
the silence. It was not until after I had advanced cautiously into the
water, and then stooped low to thus gain clearer vision along the
surface, that I succeeded in locating the vessel sought. Even then the
_Namur_ appeared only as a mere shadow, without so much as a light
showing aboard, yet apparently anchored in the same position as when
we had swept past the previous afternoon. The slightly brighter sky
above served to reveal the tracery of bare poles, while the hull was
no more than a blot in the gloom, utterly shapeless, and appearing to
be much farther away than it was in reality. Indeed, as the sky
gradually darkened the entire vision vanished, as though it had been
one of those strange mirages I had seen in the African deserts. Yet I
knew with certainty the ship was there, had sufficient time in which
to mark its position accurately, and rejoiced at the increase of
darkness to conceal my approach. Guided by this memory I waded
straight out through the lines of surf, until all excepting the head
became completely submerged. If I was to reach the bark at all, this
was the one opportunity.
I stood there, resisting the undertow tugging at my limbs, and barely
able to retain my footing, intent upon my purpose. Full strength had
come back to my muscles, and my head was again clear. The imminent
sense of danger seemed to bring me a feeling of happiness, of new
confidence in myself. The die was cast, and whatever the result, I was
going ahead to accomplish all that was humanly possible. From now on
there was to be no doubting, no turning back. A voice, high-pitched,
echoed to me across the water, reaching my ears a mere thread of
sound, the words indistinguishable. It must have been an order, for, a
moment later, I distinguished the clank of capstan bars, as though men
of the crew were engaged in warping the vessel off shore for greater
safety. The movement was too deliberate and noiseless to mean the
lifting of the anchor, nor was it accompanied by any flapping of sail,
or shifting of yards to denote departure. Nevertheless even this
movement decided me to delay my attempt no longer, and, with strong,
silent strokes I swam forward, directly breasting the force of the
incoming sea, yet making fair progress. Some unconsidered current must
have swept me to the right, for, when the outlines of the bark again
became dimly visible through the night, I found myself well to
starboard of the vessel, and quite likely would have passed it by
altogether, but for the sudden rattle of a block aloft, causing me to
glance in that direction. As my eyes explored the darkness, yet
uncertain that I really beheld the _Namur_, a light flared for a brief
instant, and I had glimpse of a face illumined by the yellow glare, as
the single spark of flame ignited a cigarette. It was all over with
so swiftly, swallowed up in that blackness, as to seem a vision of
imagination. Yet I knew it to be real. Stroking well under water, and
with only my eyes exposed above the surface, I changed my course to
the left, and slowly and cautiously drew in toward the starboard bow.
A few moments later, unperceived from above, and protected from
observation by the bulge of the overhang, and density of shadow, my
hands clung to the anchor hawser, my mind busy in devising some means
for attaining the deck.