I will say no more about our passage except that we were three days at
sea. Then, when I woke one morning, I found that we were fast moored to
a gay little wharf, paved with clean white cobbles, on the north side of
the canal. Strange, outlandish figures, in immense blue baggy trousers,
clattered past in wooden shoes. A few Dutch galliots lay moored ahead of
us, with long scarlet pennons on their mastheads. On the other side of
the canal was a huge East Indiaman, with her lower yards cockbilled,
loading all three hatches at once. It was a beautiful morning. The sun
was so bright that all the scene had thrice its natural beauty. The
clean neat trimness of the town, the water slapping past in the canal,
the ships with their flags, the Sunday trim of the schooner, all filled
me with delight, lit up, as they were, by the April sun. I looked about
me at my ease, for the deck was deserted. Even the never-sleeping mate
was resting, now that we were in port. While I looked, a man sidled
along the wharf from a warehouse towards me. He looked at the schooner
in a way which convinced me that he was not a sailor. Then, sheltering
behind a bollard, he lighted his pipe.
He was a short, active, wiry man, with a sharp, thin face, disfigured by
a green patch over his right eye. He looked to me to have a horsey look,
as though were a groom or coachman. After lighting his pipe, he advanced
to a point abreast of the schooner's gang-way, from which he could look
down upon her, as she lay with her deck a foot or two below the level of
the wharf.
“Chips aboard?” he asked, meaning, “Is the carpenter on board?”
“Yes,” I said. “Will you come aboard?”
He did not answer, but looked about the ship, as though making notes of
everything. Presently he turned to me.
“You're new,” he said. “Are you Mr. Jermyn's boy?” I told him that I
was.
“How is Mr. Jermyn keeping?” he asked. “Is that cough of his better?”
This made me feel that probably the man knew Mr. Jermyn. “Yes,” I said.
“He's got no cough, now.” “He'd a bad one last time he was here,” the
man answered. For a while he kept silent. He seemed to me to be puzzling
out the relative heights of our masts. Suddenly he turned to me, with
a very natural air. “How's Mr. Scott's business going?” he asked. “You
know, eh? You know what I mean?” I was taken off my guard. I'm afraid
I hesitated, though I knew that the man's sharp eyes noted every little
change on my face. Then, in the most natural way, the man reassured me.
“You know,” he said. “What demand for oranges in London?” I was thankful
that he had not meant the other business. I said with a good deal too
much of eagerness that there was, I believed, a big demand for oranges.
“Yes,” he said, “I suppose so many young boys makes a brisk demand.” I
was uneasy at the man's manner. He seemed to be pumping me, but he had
such a natural easy way, under the pale mask of his face, that I could
not be sure if he were in the secret or not. I was on my guard now,
ready for any question, as I thought, but eager for an excuse to get
away from this man before I betrayed any trust. “Nice ship,” he said
easily. “Did you join her in Spain?” “No,” I answered. “In London.” “In
London?” he said. “I thought you'd something of a Spanish look.” “No,” I
said. “I'm English. Did you want the carpenter, sir?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I do. But no hurry. No hurry, lad.” Here he pulled
out a watch, which he wound up, staring vacantly about the decks as he
did so. “Tell me, boy,” he said gently. “Is Lane come over with you?” To
tell the truth, it flashed across my mind, when he pulled out his watch,
that he was making me unready for a difficult question. I was not a very
bright boy; but I had this sudden prompting or instinct, which set me on
my guard. No one is more difficult to pump than a boy who is ready for
his questioner, so I stared at him. “Lane?” I said, “Lane? Do you mean
the bo'sun?”
“No,” he said. “The Colonel. You know? Eh?”
“No.” I said. “I don't know.”
“Oh well,” he answered. “It's all one. I suppose he's not come over.” At
this moment the mate came on deck with the carpenter, carrying a model
ship which they had been making together in their spare time. They
nodded to the stranger, who gave them a curt “How do?” as though they
had parted from him only the night before. The mate growled at me for
wasting time on deck when I should be at work. He sent me down to my
usual job of getting the cabin ready for the breakfast of the gentlemen.
As I passed down the hatchway, I heard the carpenter say to the
stranger, “Well. So what's the news with Jack?” It flashed into my mind
that this man might be his friend, the “Longshore Jack” who was to keep
an eye upon me as well as upon Mr. Jermyn. It gave me a most horrid
qualm to think this. The man was so sly, so calm, so guarded, that the
thought of him being on the look-out for me, to sell me to the Dutch
captains, almost scared me out of my wits. The mate brought him to the
cabin as I was laying the table. “This is the cabin,” he was saying,
“where the gentlemen messes. That's our stern-chaser, the gun there.”
“Oh,” said the stranger, looking about him like one who has never seen
a ship before. “But where do they sleep? Do they sleep on the sofa (he
meant the lockers), there?”
“Why, no,” said the mate. “They sleep in the little cabins yonder. But
we musn't stay down here now. I'm not supposed to use this cabin. I
mustn't let the captain see me.” So they went on deck again, leaving me
alone. When the gentlemen came in to breakfast, I had to go on deck for
the dishes. As I passed to the galley, I noticed the stranger talking to
the carpenter by the main-rigging. They gave me a meaning look, which
I did not at all relish. Then, as I stood in the galley, while the cook
dished up, I noticed that the stranger raised his hand to a tall, lanky,
ill-favoured man who was loafing about on the wharf, carrying a large
black package. This man came right up to the edge of the wharf, directly
he saw the stranger's signal. It made me uneasy somehow. I was in a
thoroughly anxious mood, longing to confide in some one, even in the
crusty cook, yet fearing to open my mouth to any one, even to Mr.
Jermyn, to whom I dared not speak with the captain present in the room.
Well, I had my work to do, so I kept my thoughts to myself. I took the
dishes down below to the cabin, where, after removing the covers, I
waited on the gentlemen.
“Martin,” said Mr. Jermyn. “This skylight over our heads makes rather a
draught. We can't have it open in the morning for breakfast.
“Did you open it?” the captain asked. “What made you open it?”
“Please, sir, I didn't open it.”
“Then shut it,” said the captain. “Go on deck. The catch is fast
outside.”
I ran very nimbly on deck to shut the skylight, but the catch was very
stiff; it took me some few moments to undo. I noticed, as I worked at
it, that the deck was empty, except for the lanky man with the package,
who was now forward, apparently undoing his package on the forehatch. I
thought that he was a sort of pedlar or bumboatman, come to sell onions,
soft bread, or cheap jewellery to the sailors. The carpenter's head
showed for an instant at the galley-door, He was looking forward at the
pedlar. The hands were all down below in the forecastle, eating their
breakfast. The other stranger seemed to have gone. I could not see him
about the deck. At last the skylight came down with a clatter, leaving
me free to go below again. As I went down the hatchway, into the
'tweendecks gloom, I saw a figure apparently at work among the ship's
stores lashed to the deck there. I could not see who it was; it was
too dark for that but the thing seemed strange to me. I guessed that
it might be my enemy the boatswain, so I passed aft to the cabin on the
other side.
Soon after that, it might be ten minutes after, while the gentlemen were
talking lazily about going ashore, we heard loud shouts on deck.
“What's that?” said the captain, starting up from his chair.
“Sounds like fire,” said Mr. Jermyn.
“Fire forward,” said the captain, turning very white. “There's five tons
of powder forward.”
“What?” cried the Duke.
At that instant we heard the boatswain roaring to the men to come on
deck. “Aft for the hose there, Bill,” we heard. Feet rushed aft along
the deck, helter-skelter. Some one shoved the skylight open with a
violent heave. Looking up, we saw the carpenter's head. He looked as
scared as a man can be.
“On deck,” he cried. “We're all in a blaze forward. The lamp in the
bo'sun's locker. Quick.”
“Just over the powder,” the captain said, rushing out.
“Quick, sir,” said Jermyn to the Duke. “We may blow up at any moment.”
“No,” said the Duke, rising leisurely. “Not with these stars.
Impossible.”
All the same, the two men followed the captain in pretty quick time. Mr.
Jermyn rushed the Duke out by the arm. I was rushing out, too, when I
saw the Duke's hat lying on the lockers. I darted at it, for I knew
that he would want it, with the result that my heel slipped on a copper
nail-head, which had been worn down even with the deck till it was
smooth as glass. Down I came, bang, with a jolt which shook me almost
sick. I rose up, stupid with the shock, so wretched with the present
pain that the fire seemed a little matter to me. Indeed, I did not
understand the risk. I did not know how a fire so far forward could
affect the cabin.
A couple of minutes must have passed before I picked up the hat from
where it lay. As I hurried through the 'tweendecks some slight noise
or movement made me turn my head. Looking to my right. I saw the horsey
man, the stranger, rummaging quickly in the lockers of the Duke's cabin,
As I looked, I saw him snatch up something like a pocketbook or pocket
case, with a hasty “Ah” of approval. At the same moment, he saw me
watching him.
“Where's Mr. Scott?” he cried, darting out on me. “We may all blow up in
another moment.”
“He's on deck,” I said. “Hasn't he gone on deck?”
“On deck?” said the man. “Then on deck with you, too.” He pushed me
up the hatch before him. “Quick,” he cried. “Quick. There's Mr. Scott
forward. Get him on to the wharf.
He gave me a hasty shove forward, to where the whole company was working
in a cloud of smoke, passing buckets from hand to hand. A crowd of
Dutchmen had gathered on the wharf. Everybody was shouting. The scene
was confused like a bad dream. I caught sight of the pedlar man at the
gangway as the stranger thrust me forward. In the twinkling of an eye
the stranger passed something to him with the quick thrust known as the
thieves' pass. I saw it, for all my confusion. I knew in an instant that
he had stolen something. The pedlar person was an accomplice. As likely
as not the fire was a diversion. I rushed at the gangway. The pedlar was
moving quickly away with his hands in his pockets. It all happened in
a moment. As I rushed at the gangway, with some wild notion of stopping
the pedlar, the horsey man caught me by the collar.
“What,” he said, in a loud voice. “Trying to desert, are you? You come
forward where the danger is.” He ran me forward. He was as strong as a
bull.
“Mr. Jermyn,” I cried. “Mr. Jermyn. This man's a thief.”
The man twisted my collar on to my throat till I choked. “Quiet, you,”
he hissed.
Then Mr. Jermyn dropped his bucket to attend to me.
“A thief,” I gasped. “A thief.” Mr. Jermyn sprang aft, with his eyes on
the man's eyes. The stranger flung me into Mr. Jermyn's way, with all
the sweep of his arm. As I went staggering into the fore-bitts (for
Mr. Jermyn dodged me) the man took a quick side step up the rail to the
wharf. I steadied myself. Mr. Jermyn, failing to catch the man before
he was off the ship, rushed below to see what was lost. The crowd
of workers seemed to dissolve suddenly. The men surged all about me,
swearing. The fire was out. Remember, all this happened in thirty
seconds, from the passing of the stolen goods to the stranger's letting
go my throat. The very instant that I found my feet against the bitts, I
jumped off the ship on to the wharf. There was the stranger running down
the wharf to the right, full tilt. There was the lanky pedlar slouching
quickly away as though he were going on an errand, with his black box
full of groceries.
“That's the man, Mr. Scott,” I cried. “He's got it.”
The captain (who, I believe, was a naval officer in the Duke's secret)
was up on the wharf in an instant. I followed him, though the carpenter
clutched at me as I scrambled up. I kicked out behind like a donkey. I
didn't kick him, but some one thrust the carpenter aside in the hurry
so that I was free. In another seconds I was past the captain, running
after the pedlar, who started to run at a good speed, dropping his box
with a clatter. Half a dozen joined in the pursuit. The captain had his
sword out. They raised such a noise behind me that I thought the whole
crew was at my heels. The pedlar kept glancing behind; he knew very
little about running. He doubled from street to street, like a man at
his wits' ends. I could see that he was blown. When he entered into that
conspiracy, he had counted on the horsey man diverting suspicion from
him. Suddenly, after twisting round a corner, he darted through a swing
door into a stone-paved court, surrounded by brick walls. I was at his
heels at the moment or I should have lost him there. I darted through
the swing door after him. I went full sprawl over his body on the other
side. He had, quite used up, collapsed there.