THE ESCAPE FROM THE RATTLE-WATCH
Within a few minutes after leaving Marmaduke Hall I arrived at the
Ferry-House alone, having stationed Pierre in a dark court-yard across
the street. I looked in through the door and saw the four sailors
huddled close together around one of the tables. They talked in careful
whispers with their heads close together as men are wont to do when they
are engaged in underhand business. From time to time they glanced
uneasily about the room, as if they thought that someone should be
watching. When I came near them, they seemed to suspect my presence in
the first breath. I tried to draw them into conversation, but succeeded
no better than if I had spoken in a foreign tongue. One after another of
them, as he could find an opportunity, managed to slip away to some
other part of the room; soon I was sitting quite lonely and deserted at
the table where I had joined them. They, however, had their heads close
together again and were in conversation in another part of the room. I
made a feint at yawning, put my feet on the table, folded my hands, and
in five minutes, for all they knew, I was fast asleep. In reality, I was
listening with both my ears and squinting through my half shut eyes to
see what they were doing.
They took care at first that I should not hear a word of what they said;
but by degrees, thinking, I suppose, that I was asleep, they grew more
careless in their speech. For all that, I could learn only that they
were to keep an appointment somewhere at nine o’clock that night. They
glanced often and so anxiously at the clock that I knew the meeting must
be of considerable importance. Before long they ceased talking
altogether; then they fell to dozing in their chairs.
When I saw that they were not likely to notice my absence, I left the
room. I walked along Garden Street towards the new Dutch church for the
distance of fifty yards; then I crossed to the shadow side of the
thoroughfare and retraced my steps. Opposite the Ferry-House is a narrow
alley that leads into a court-yard. It was in this passage, dark as
pitch, that I had stationed Pierre. I turned in when I reached the
entrance along which I groped my way with one hand on the wall and the
other raised to shield my face.
“St,” I said cautiously. Pierre answered with the same signal. I took
two more steps in the dark, and then my outstretched hand touched him.
“Pierre,” I said. “They are in there, but I cannot make them say a word.
Go quickly and rouse the rattle-watch. These fellows must be taken up.
I’ll make some sort of disturbance against your coming back to color the
arrest with. As soon as the watchmen have started, run as fast as your
legs will carry you and let me know that they are on the way.”
When Pierre set out along Broad Street, I returned to my seat in the
ordinary where I intended to resume my watch till his return. My
absence, I thought, had not been noticed by the sailors. I settled
myself quietly, well satisfied with the way things were going. Nothing,
however, was further from my intention than my proposal to arrest these
men. In fact, I intended to outwit the rattle-watch, notwithstanding the
fact that I had summoned it.
By the time Pierre returned all out of breath to announce the approach
of the watch, the clock had crept round to half past eight. The officers
of the watch, Pierre informed me, were not more than the space of two
streets away. I rose instantly and approached the sailors.
“May I speak to you a moment?” I said in feigned excitement to him who
seemed to be their leader. He arose, rather fearful, as if he shared my
assumed alarm, and stepped with me towards the corner of the room. I
said to him: “You come from the ship that anchored in the lower bay
yesterday?”
“Who told you?” he blurted out. Then, seeing that he had made a mistake,
he blundered still further in his attempt to contradict himself. “No, by
God, we don’t!”
“I thought so,” I answered, for his manner said “Yes,” though his words
said “No.” I continued: “Is it a free-trader?”
The fellow turned white, his lips quivered, and his hand sought the butt
of his pistol.
“Softly, friend, you have no enemy to deal with,” I said. “I have been
in the jolly trade myself. Look at this.”
I threw open my blouse part way and gave him a glimpse of one of the
richly mounted pistols that Captain Tew had presented to me.
“Have you ever seen that name before?”
His eyes gleamed recognition as he read the buccaneer’s name engraved in
big letters on the hilt. “Ay, we sighted him two days ago.”
“Quite true. Bound for Martinique. I thought you would know the name.
Now will you trust me? You have been suspected and even now the city
officers are almost here to arrest you and your companions.”
At that moment the shrill rattle of the watchman’s whistle sounded from
the street outside. The person who blew it may have meant to give them
some chance to escape, for the free-booters were prime favorites with
all who were not strictly addicted to honorable practices. However good
the guard’s intention might be, I was not willing to allow my new
acquaintances to profit by it. I was bound to have for myself the credit
of saving the buccaneers. Their gratitude might be of service to me.
“Hurry,” I said. “We must barricade this corner of the room.”
Quick as thought I overturned two of the tables. All five of us began to
pile up the other furniture. The landlord gaped in open-mouthed
amazement at our proceeding. Whatever leniency may have been in the
watchman’s mind at the moment he blew his warning whistle in the street,
it all vanished as soon as he entered the room. For he and his men had
no sooner crowded through the door than I hurled a heavy pewter tankard
at the leader’s portly belly. It struck well and sent him sprawling on
the floor.
“Quick,” I said to the pirates. “Follow me.”
The corner of the room that was enclosed by our barricade contained a
door that opened on Garden Street near the church. We made our way out
in this way and then set out across the town towards the North River. We
had hardly cleared the front of the tavern when we heard the rapid steps
of the watchmen coming after us pell-mell. We ran on till the high wall
of palisades along the river bank rose in front of us. They seemed to
cut off all escape in that direction, and I do not wonder that the
sailors thought I had betrayed them.
“You have trapped us,” hissed one of them between his teeth. At the same
moment he drew his pistol.
“Go on,” I shouted. “Turn to the left. There is a gate.”
We continued our way along the ditch behind the wall, running at the top
of our speed. The steps of the watchmen sounded closer and closer behind
us. My companions, being sailors, and consequently poor runners, were
continually losing ground. I feared we should be caught up with and I
had no mind for a fight. That was more than I had bargained for. But
luck favored us. We soon reached the postern that opens through the
palisades to the rocky bank of the river. Our pursuers were scarce fifty
feet behind us. If the key would not fit we were lost. But all happened
to our advantage. In a moment I had thrust in the key that Governor
Bellamont had given me. The lock clicked. We sprang through the open
gateway and managed to relock the gate just as the officers dashed
against it. But the door was of solid oak and held fast.
“That was a good turn,” said the leader, mopping his face. “I’m sweating
in every inch of me.”
“This chill wind will soon stop that,” I answered. “Where did you leave
your boat?”
Fortunately they had left it afloat in the care of one of their
comrades. They whistled to him and in a few minutes I heard the
squeaking of oars as the boat approached. The leader of the band put out
his hand, saying all sorts of things in gratitude for what I had done.
It made me feel ashamed to hear his profuse thanks, for, after all, I
had played him a trick in my own interest; but I steeled my heart by
thinking of the patroon.
“I don’t know who you are,” continued the sailor. “But now that you have
done me one good turn perhaps you will do me another. We must be at
Wolfert Webber’s tavern by nine o’clock to-night. Can we get there?”
It was well for the success of my plans that I had spent a large part of
the afternoon studying a map of Manhattan Island.
I knew, therefore, that a stream of water of depth sufficient to float a
long-boat connected the small lake known as the Collect with the North
River. I told the pirate of this stream and that, after having crossed
the lake, a short walk would bring him to Webber’s tavern.
Meanwhile the long-boat was approaching the shore. Soon we were all
seated—I going along to point out the way—and four of the sailors were
pulling sturdily at the oars. We shot quickly over the water. The half
moon gleamed in a flickering path behind us. Between the narrow banks of
the stream by which we made our way into the Collect scarcely a ray of
light could penetrate. We had much ado to evade the overhanging
branches, which, in spite of all our care, struck us in the face time
and again. Then everything changed like scenery on the stage as we shot
into the shadow-rimmed lake, smooth as glass, reflecting the moon like
the half of a broken plate, lying upon the bottom.
“Dip easy, men,” whispered the leader, who had seated himself next to me
in the stern of the boat. “No need to let anyone know that we are
coming.”
He and I had fallen into conversation while the others rowed. I tried
cautiously to win from him some information as to what his errand was
about. I succeeded, however, no better than when I had made the like
attempt earlier in the evening. He was as mum as a stone concerning his
own business. When we landed on a narrow beach of pebbles, he commanded
his followers to remain with the boat while he went forward under my
guidance. On the way I was of two minds. At one moment I wanted to
strike him down, rob him of his letters, and take to my heels. At the
next, I was much ashamed of such a dishonorable impulse. My hesitation,
however, was soon overcome in an unexpected way. When I saw the light of
Webber’s tavern twinkling a hundred yards ahead of us, I informed my
companion that his destination was in sight. He put out a great clumsy
hand and took mine cordially.
“Thanks, mate, whatever your name is. Here you and I must part company.
You’ve done us a good turn, and I’d do the same by you if I had the
chance. But I must go on alone, for what I’ve got to say is very secret
and must be said alone. It ain’t as if I had some writing that I could
just hand over before your eyes and you none the wiser for looking at
the outside. It doesn’t look handsome, does it? But I’m on other
people’s business, and honor is honor, as you know yourself.”
Since there was nothing to be gained by staying with him against his
will, I shook hands in a friendly way, saying that I should go back to
New York by land, it being nearer for me than the way we had come. The
moment he was gone, however, I took after him and set myself to watch
the tavern door. The person he had come to meet had evidently arrived
before him. In two minutes the sailor came out again, accompanied by a
boy. As they passed through a patch of moonlight I caught a glimpse of
this second person. He was not a boy at all, but Van Volkenberg’s dwarf,
Louis Van Ramm.
They passed close to me and I followed them a short way into the woods,
where they held a long whispered consultation; but I could not catch a
word of what they said. At the end of their talk they parted company
without returning to the tavern. The pirate went back to the boat the
way he had come; the dwarf set out towards Van Volkenberg manor. I had
no further interest in the sailor, and, though I expected little gain
from following Van Ramm, I resolved to dog his footsteps.