It is the hour of setting the first night-watch, and the bells have been
struck; not to summon any sailor from the forecastle, but intended only
for the cabin and the ears of Captain Lantanas--lest the absence of the
usual sound should awaken his suspicion, that all was not going right.
This night neither watch will be below, but all hands on deck, mates as
foremast-men; and engaged in something besides the navigation of the
vessel--in short, in destroying her! And, soon as the first shades of
night descend over her, the crew is seen assembling by the manger-board
close to the night-heads--all save the man who has charge of the
steering, on this occasion Slush.
The muster by the manger-board is to take measures for carrying out
their scheme of piracy and plunder, now on the eve of execution. The
general plan is already understood by all; it but remains to settle some
final details.
Considering the atrocity of their design, it is painful to see the first
mate in their midst. A British sailor--to say nought of an old
man-of-war's man--better might have been expected of him. But he _is_
there; and not only taking part with them, but apparently acting as
their leader.
His speech too clearly proclaims him chief of the conspiring crew. His
actions also, as they have ever been, since the day when he signified to
Striker his intention to join them. After entering into the conspiracy,
he has shown an assiduity to carry it out worthy of a better cause.
His first act was backing up Striker's call for an equal division of the
bounty. Holding the position of chief officer, this at once established
his influence over the others; since increased by the zeal he has
displayed--so that he now holds first place among the pirates, nearly
all of them acknowledging, and submitting to, his authority.
If Edward Crozier could but see him now, and hear what he is saying, he
would never more have faith in human being. Thinking of Carmen Montijo,
the young officer has doubted women; witnessing the behaviour of Henry
Blew, he might not only doubt man, but curse him.
Well for the recreant sailor, Crozier is not present in that conclave by
the night-heads of the _Condor_. If he were, there would be speedy
death to one he could not do otherwise than deem a traitor.
But the young officer is far away--a thousand miles of trackless ocean
_now_ between _Condor_ and _Crusader_--little dreaming of the danger
that threatens her to whom he has given heart, and promised hand; while
Harry Blew is standing in the midst of ruffians plotting her ruin!
O man! O British sailor! where is your gratitude? What has become of
your honour--your oath? The first gone; the second disregarded; the
last broken!
Soon as together, the pirates enter upon discussion, the first question
before them being about the place where they shall land.
Upon this point there is difference of opinion. Some are for going
ashore at once, on a convenient part of the coast in sight; while others
counsel running on till they enter Panama Bay.
At the head of those in favour of the latter is the chief mate, who
gives his reasons thus:
"By runnin' up into the Bay o' Panyma, we'll get closer to the town; an'
it'll be easier to reach it after we've done the business we intend
doin', Panyma bein' a seaport, an' plenty o' vessels sailin' from it.
After gettin' there we'd be able to go every man his own way. Them as
wants can cross over the Isthmus, an' cut off on t'other side. An'
Panyma bein' full o' strangers goin' to Californey, an' returnin' from
it, we'd be less like to get noticed there. Whiles if we land on the
coast here, where thar an't no good-sized town, but only some bits o'
fishin' villages, we'd be a marked lot--sartin to run a good chance o'
bein' took up, an' put into one o' thar prisons. Just possible too, we
might land on some part inhabited by wild Indyins, an' lose not only the
shinin' stuff, but our scalps. I've heerd say thar's the worst sort o'
savages livin' on the coast 'long here. An' supposin' we meet neither
Indyins nor whites, goin' ashore in a wilderness covered wi' woods, we
might have trouble in makin' our way out o' them. Them thick forests o'
the tropics an't so easy to travel through. I've know'd o' sailors as
got cast away, perishin' in 'em afore they could reach any settlement.
My advice, tharfore, shipmates, be, for us to take the barque on into
the Bay; an' when we've got near enough the port, to make sure o' our
bein' able to reach it, then put in for the shore. Panyma Bay's big
enough to give us plenty choice o' places for our purpose."
"We've heard you out, Mr Blew," rejoins Gomez, "Now, let me say in
answer, you haven't given a single reason for going by Panama Bay, that
won't stand good for doing the very opposite. But there's one worth
all, you haven't mentioned, and it's against you. While running up into
the Bay, we'd be sure to meet other vessels coming out of it--scores of
them. And supposing one should be a man-of-war--a British or American
cruiser, say--and she takes it into her head to overhaul us; where would
we be then?"
"An' if they did," returns Blew, "what need for us to be afeerd? Seein'
that the barque's papers are all shipshape, they'd have to leave us as
they found us. Let 'em overhaul, an' be blowed!"
"They mightn't leave us as they found us, for all that," argues Gomez.
"Just when they took it into their heads to board the barque, might be
when we would be slipping out of her. How then? Besides, other ships
would have the chance of spying us at that critical moment. As I've
said, your other arguments are wrong; I'll answer them in detail. But
first, let me tell you all, I've got a pretty accurate knowledge of this
coast. I ought to have, considering that I spent several years on and
off it in a business which goes by the name of _contraband_. Now, all
round the shores of Panama Bay there's just the sort of wild
forest-covered country Mr Blew talks about getting strayed in. We
might land within twenty miles of that port, and yet not be able to
reach it, without great difficulty. Danger, too, from the savages, our
first officer seems so much afraid of. Whereas, by putting ashore
anywhere along here, we won't be far from the old Nicaraguan road, that
runs all through the Isthmus. It will take us to the town of Panama;
any that wish to go there. But there's another town as big as it, and
better for our purpose; one wherein we'll be less likely to meet the
unpleasant experience Mr Blew speaks of. It isn't much of a place for
prisons. I'm speaking of Santiago, the capital city of Veragua; which
isn't over a good day's journey from the coast. And we can reach it by
an easy road. Still that's not the question of greatest importance.
What most concerns us is the safety of the place _when we get to it_--
and I can answer for Santiago. Unless customs have changed since I used
to trifle away some time there--and people too--we'll find some who'll
show us hospitality. With the money at our disposal--ay, a tenth part
of it--I could buy up the _alcalde_ of the town, and every judge in the
province."
"That's the sort of town for us--and country too!" exclaim several
voices. "Let's steer for Santiago!"
"We'll first have to put about," explains Gomez, "and run along the
coast, till we find a proper place for landing."
"Yes," rejoins Harry Blew, speaking satirically, and as if exasperated
by the majority going against him. "An' if we put about just now, we'll
stand a good chance of goin' slap on them rocks on the port beam.
Thar's a line o' breakers all along shore, far's I can see. How's a
boat to be got through them? She'd be bilged to a sartinty."
"There are breakers, as you say," admits Gomez; "but their line doesn't
run continuous, as it appears to do. I remember several openings where
a boat, or ship for that matter, may be safely got through. We must
look out for one of them."
"_Vaya, camarados_!" puts in Padilla, with a gesture of impatience.
"We're wasting time, which just now is valuable. Let's have the barque
about, and stand along the coast, as Gil Gomez proposes. I second his
proposal; but, if you like, let it go to a vote."
"No need; we all agree to it."
"Ay; all of us."
"Well, shipmates," says Harry Blew, seeing himself obliged to give way,
and conceding the point with apparent reluctance; "if ye're all in
favour o' steerin' up coast, I an't goin' to stand out against it. It
be the same to me one way or t'other. Only I thought, an' still think,
we'd do better by runnin' up toward Panyma."
"No, no; Santiago's the place for us. We've decided to go there."
"Then to Santiago let's go. An' if the barque's to be put about, I tell
ye there's no time to be lost. Otherways, we'll go into them whitecaps,
sure; the which would send this craft to Davy Jones sooner than we
intend. If we're smart about it, I dar say we can manage to scrape
clear o' them; the more likely, as the wind's shifted, an' is now
off-shore. It'll be a close shave, for all that."
"Plenty of sea-room," says the second mate. "But let's about with her
at once!"
"You see to it, Padilla!" directs Gomez, who, from his success in having
his plan adopted in opposition to that of the Englishman, feels his
influence increased so much, he may now take command.
The second mate starts aft, and going up to the helmsman, whispers a
word in his ear.
Instantly the helm is put hard up, and the barque paying off, wears
round from east to west-nor'-west. The sailors at the same time brace
about her yards, and trim her sails for the changed course; executing
the manoeuvre, not, as is usual, with a chorused chant, but silently, as
if the ship were a spectre, and her crew but spectral shadows.