Jack had not had much experience with the West India climate; but he had
heard enough of the signs preceding a hurricane to make him somewhat
anxious about the state of the weather. Gradually a thick mist seemed
to be overspreading the sky, while there was not a breath of wind
sufficient to move a feather in the rigging.
"We shall have the wind down upon us presently," he observed to Hawke.
"We will clue up every thing, and strike the topgallant-masts. If the
wind does not come it will be no great harm, as it will only give the
Frenchmen something more to do; and if it does come, and we have all
this gear aloft, it will be carried away to a certainty."
The order was immediately issued, and the hands flew aloft to carry it
out. Before, however, the canvas was all secured, a white line of foam
was seen rushing towards the ship, extending on either side as far as
the eye could reach. On it came, rising in height, while a loud roar
burst on the ears of the crew.
"Down for your lives, men, down!" shouted Jack, as the ship, struck by
the furious blast, heeled over.
Some obeyed the summons and slid down on deck in time; but others, who
did not hear the order, remained aloft, many in their terror clinging to
spars and shrouds, unable to move. Over heeled the stout ship. The
masts like willow-wands bent, and then, snapping in two, were carried
away to leeward. The lower yards dipped in the water, and most of those
upon them were torn away from their grasp, while others were hurled to a
distance from the ship. For a few minutes she lay helplessly on her
beam-ends, then happily feeling the power of her helm, which was put up,
the canvas at the same time being blown away, her head paid off, and
righting herself she flew before the gale. In vain the poor wretches
who had been hurled into the water shrieked for help. No human help
could reach them! In a few minutes they were left far behind, while the
ship, lately so trim and gallant, was hurried on, too likely to meet
that destruction which overtook many other stout vessels at that time.
More than half the English crew had been lost, and only one of the
Frenchmen, so that their numbers were now more equal.
On flew the ship. The sea torn and thrown up by the force of the
hurricane, loud-roaring billows foamed and hissed on either side, while
darkness soon came on to add to the horrors of the scene.
Undaunted, Jack and his crew exerted themselves to clear away the wreck
of the masts and spars. The fearful working of the ship, however, made
it too probable that if not very strongly-built, she would spring a leak
and go down. Every instant the seas grew higher and higher, and it was
with difficulty that she could be kept before the wind. Her boats were
washed away by the seas which broke on board, and though often she was
in danger of being pooped by those which dashed against her stern, still
she floated on.
When morning at length dawned, the hurricane began to abate. The wind
ceased almost as rapidly as it had commenced; but the once stout ship,
now almost a wreck, rolled heavily in the still tumbling seas. As yet
little could be done to get her put to rights. She was still at a
considerable distance from Jamaica, and with his diminished crew, Jack
saw that it would take some time to rig jury-masts, and thus enable him
to shape a proper course for Port Royal. As soon, however, as the sea
went sufficiently down, and the ship became steadier, he ordered the
crew to commence the work. His own men willingly obeyed; but the
Frenchmen walked forward sullenly, declaring that there would be no use
in exerting themselves, and positively refusing to work. While they
were acting thus, Burridge brought him word that several had, by some
means or other, got hold of fire-arms and hangers, and were evidently
prepared for mischief.
"We must watch our opportunity, and try to disarm them," observed John
Deane. "Work they must, by some means or other, or else they must be
put in irons."
To do this, however, was no easy task, considering that there were as
many Frenchmen as Englishmen, and the former were evidently desperate
fellows. Hawke was fortunately able to speak French very well, and Jack
directed him therefore to address the mutineers, and ask them again
whether they would assist in putting the ship into order. A flat
refusal was the answer, and thus the whole day was occupied. The
following night was one of great anxiety, as it became necessary to keep
a constant watch over the Frenchmen, lest they should suddenly attack
the English and attempt to regain the ship. Jack did not allow himself
a moment's rest, but continued, with arms by his side, pacing the deck,
while a constant watch was kept on the movements of the mutineers.
Dawn at length broke; and soon after the sun rose above the horizon its
bright rays struck on the sails of a large vessel which was seen
standing towards the "Coquille," with a light breeze then blowing. Jack
anxiously watched her through his glass, hoping, from the cut of her
sails, that she might prove an English man-of-war. As she came on, he
hoisted on the stump of the main-mast the English ensign reversed, the
signal of distress. On the nearer approach of the stranger, however,
Deane observed that the English flag was not hoisted in return, which
would have been the case had she been a friend. If she had been at sea
during the hurricane, she had escaped wonderfully well, for her masts
and yards were as trim as if she had just come out of port. Her decks,
too, seemed crowded with men. In a short time, running under the stern
of the "Coquille," she "hove to," and a man with a speaking-trumpet
hailed from her deck, demanding the name of the vessel, and where she
was bound to.
"A prize to Her Majesty's ship `Venus,' and bound for Port Royal,"
answered Jack.
"And very little chance you'll have of getting there," replied the man
with the speaking-trumpet, "We will send a boat aboard you and see about
the matter."
In another minute two well-armed boats were lowered from the stranger,
and soon came alongside the "Coquille." Their crews jumped on board.
"You have been caught in the hurricane, I see," said the man who seemed
to act as the officer. "What is your cargo?"
Jack told him.
"Lucky for us, then, that you did not go down," was the answer. "And
now set to work and get the ship in order. You must understand that you
are a prize to the `Black Hawk,' belonging to a company of gentlemen
adventurers. There's no use grumbling: it's the fortune of war. And
now bear a hand and get your ship to rights as fast as you can. We will
help you, and carry you safely into port, though not the port maybe you
were bound for."
Jack's heart sank within him when he heard this. Resistance would be
utterly useless. Even had the Frenchmen remained faithful, the pirates,
for such he had little doubt they were, numbered ten to one of his own
diminished crew. At first he and his young officers felt disposed to
refuse to work, but Burridge, an experienced old seaman, strongly
advised them to obey.
"There's no use whatsomever, sir, to quarrel with these sort of gentry,"
he observed. "They would as likely as not make a man walk the plank if
they're angry with him, and if we don't try to please them they will
probably send every one of us to be food for the sharks before another
day passes over our heads."
Jack saw the wisdom of this advice, so, putting the best face on the
matter he could, he ordered his own people to commence the work he had
been about to carry out when the pirate appeared. The Frenchmen were
quickly made to change their tone, and the pirates, observing that they
did not work with as good a will as the English, kept pricking them on,
every now and then, with the points of their swords, amusing themselves
greatly at the sight of the grimaces which were made in consequence of
this treatment.
Poor Jack! this was the greatest trial he had ever gone through in his
life. After having fully expected to enter Port Royal in triumph with a
fine prize, thus to have it snatched from him by a band of rascally
pirates! Still he did the best to keep up his spirits, hoping that some
opportunity might occur to enable him ere long to make his escape.
"It cannot be helped," observed Burridge, "and `what cannot be cured,
must be endured,' as my old woman used to say when she allowed the
porridge to burn on the fire. It's a long lane too, you know, sir,
which has no turning, and though maybe these gentry will make us do a
few things we shall not like, still, as long as they don't cut our
throats, we will manage some day or other to get clear of them."
The pirates, to do them justice, were not idle themselves. A
considerable number more now came on board to help get the ship into
order, as it was very evident to them that she was a valuable prize. As
soon as sail could be made on the ship, Jack and his officers were
ordered to keep to their cabins, as he supposed, to prevent them
ascertaining the direction which the ship was steering. This, so far,
proved satisfactory, as it proved that the pirates had no immediate
intention of taking their lives. Three days thus passed away, when from
the perfectly smooth way in which the vessel glided on, Deane suspected
that they were entering some harbour. The midshipmen were of the same
opinion, and Hawke volunteered to try to reach the deck, to ascertain
where they had got to. On going out, however, he found a sentry at the
door, who ordered him back, telling him, that without the captain's
leave they would not be allowed to leave their cabin. In a short time
longer, the sound of the anchor let go, and the perfect stillness of the
ship, convinced Jack that he was right in his conjectures. Soon after
this a person they had not before seen came to the cabin.
"Now, friends," he said, "if you are wise men, you will enter with us
and cut the service to which you have belonged. We don't serve either
king or queen, and have only ourselves to obey, while instead of handing
over the profits of our labours to others we keep them for ourselves.
We have a jovial life of it. No lack of adventure and excitement, and
as much gold and silver as we can pick up, though, to be sure, we now
and then have a little fighting for it, but that only adds to its value.
What say you, lads? Will you join us?"
"Thank you for your polite offer," answered Deane, "but we are well
content with the service in which we're engaged, and have no fancy for
changing it. We, too, have plenty of fighting, and can generally scrape
up as much gold as we want."
"Enough is as good as a feast," observed Burridge; "and I'll tell you
what, sir, with due respect to you, we would rather serve Queen Anne
than King Mobb Sogg, or any other king in or out of Christendom; and
though you gentlemen buccaneers are very fine fellows, we have no fancy
just at present of becoming one of your number."
"It would have been better for you if you had made up your minds to
follow my advice," answered the pirate officer; "I should have been able
to set you at liberty at once and let you wander all over our island.
As it is, you must be content to remain shut up on board, or maybe on
shore, where we have a sort of prison which is sometimes useful."
Jack and his companions were in no way ill-treated, except in being
confined to the cabin, while an abundance of provisions were brought to
them. From the noises they heard they judged that the cargo of the
vessel was being taken out of her, and they hoped when that was done
that some change or other might take place in their condition. They had
no fancy to remain prisoners for ever, and they determined that if not
released by their captors, they would endeavour if possible to escape by
themselves. Burridge had been allowed to join them in the cabin. He
told them he was afraid that the rest of the crew had joined the
pirates, as they had all left the vessel shouting and singing, and
apparently in very good-humour. He alone had refused to do so, in spite
of the threats of punishment which the pirates uttered.
"I have sworn to fight for our country and for our new queen, and I
intend to do so as long as there is life in me," he observed.
In those days the bands of buccaneers which had made themselves a terror
to the Spaniards had been dispersed. At the peace of Ryswick, finding
that their occupation was gone, and that they would not long receive the
support of the English government, many of them accepted offers of land
in the plantations and became settlers. Those who were unwilling to
lead a quiet life turned regular pirates, mostly hoisting black flags,
with some hideous device, such as skulls and crossbones, and attacked
all nations indiscriminately. Deane fully believed that he had fallen
into the hands of characters of this sort, though he was surprised that
they had hitherto treated him and his companions with so much leniency.
At length an officer visited them. He was a fierce-looking fellow, with
his broad-brimmed hat and leather cocked on one side. A huge belt was
slung across his shoulders, in which two or three brace of pistols were
stuck. A hanger was by his side, with a silk coat covered with gold
lace, while his face was adorned with a large moustache and a long black
beard.
"Well, my hearties," he exclaimed as he entered, "I hope you like being
shut up here like dogs in a kennel! It's a strange fancy if you do; to
my mind, it would be better to have your freedom and enjoy yourselves on
shore. What would you say, now, if I was to offer it you?"
"We should be obliged to you, master," answered Jack; "for we should
like to stretch our legs on shore amazingly."
"Ah, that's sensible!" answered the visitor; "but you must agree to my
terms if you do."
"That may alter the case," said Jack. "Let us hear your terms though,
and we may judge whether we can accept them."
"Ah, they're easy enough!" said their visitor. "All you have to do, is
to swear to be faithful to our fraternity, and if you're ordered to draw
your sword and fight on our side, you will do it, even though our
enemies should be your former friends."
"This is only mockery!" exclaimed Jack. "If you tell us to draw our
swords against our countrymen, we tell you at once, we would die rather
than do so!"
"Then you must remain prisoners, and be treated as such," answered their
visitor. "However, as this craft will prove a fine cruiser, we are
going to fit her out for sea, and if you don't choose to go in her, you
will have to come on shore."
The pirate continued talking much in this way for some time, but without
producing any effect upon his hearers. At last he got angry, and,
slamming the door after him, went on deck. He soon returned, however,
with a dozen men, whom he ordered to take charge of the four prisoners
and to convey them on shore. They were accordingly marched up on deck,
where for the first time Jack was enabled to examine the place into
which the ship had been carried. It was a large lagoon, the entrance
from the sea being so narrow that he could with difficulty make it out.
Cocoanut and palm-trees thickly lined the shore, between which a few
huts were seen, but no rising ground was visible, and Deane conjectured
that they were on one of the quays which are to be found in the
neighbourhood of Saint Domingo, and which had been the resort for many
ages of pirates. The boat in which they were placed proceeded up the
lagoon for some distance, when they were landed on one side of it, and
surrounded by their guards and marched up away from the water. In a
short time some huts of considerably larger dimensions than those they
had already seen were reached, and one of them was pointed out as their
future prison. It was close to the other houses, and was one of the
largest in the village. Being ordered to go in, the door was closed
behind them. It had, however, the advantage of a window, which, though
strongly grated, gave them light and air, and enabled them to look out.
It was, in other respects, a very undesirable residence, the furniture
consisting of merely a couple of rough stools and a bench, with a
rickety table.
"I am afraid, sir, we've fallen out of the frying-pan into the fire,"
observed Burridge, as he surveyed the apartment. "On board we had our
beds to sleep on, and decent furniture, but here we have nothing to
boast of, of that sort, while I'm afraid it will be more than ever
difficult for us to get away."
It seemed but too likely that they were to be starved into compliance
with the pirates' wishes, for hour after hour passed away and no
provisions were brought them. At length Burridge, who had been
examining the place, expressed his belief that they might be able to
work their way through the roof, and so get out.
"If they attempt to starve us, it's a thing we must do," he observed;
"and it will be hard if we go foraging about the island and cannot find
any food; and then if it's impossible to get off, we must e'en before
morning get back into our present prison, and maybe it will not be
discovered that we have ever left it."
The two midshipmen were delighted with this proposal, though Deane
doubted somewhat that it would be carried out. Their only amusement was
looking out of the window, which there was room for two of them to do at
a time; but it was too small to allow more than that number to look out
of it together. Now and then people were seen moving about, and passing
at a distance from the prison; but no one came near enough for the
prisoners to speak to them. Jack determined to do so if he could,
however, that he might try to ascertain something more of the character
of the people among whom they had fallen. He had been looking out for
some time when he saw a person approaching, whom, by his dress and gay
sash full of pistols, his hat with a feather, and the rich, jewelled
hilt to his sword, he concluded was an officer. The man turned his face
for an instant up to the window. Although his hair was somewhat
grizzled and his beard bushy and long, partly concealing his face, the
conviction flashed across Jack's mind that he was no other than Master
Pearson, as he called himself, with whom he had parted in the fens of
Lincolnshire! The man turned away and passed on; but from his gait and
manner, Deane felt still more convinced that he was not mistaken.
Instantly a number of thoughts crowded into his mind. Was he there
alone, or had he brought with him his wife and reputed daughter? Robber
and outlaw as he might be in England, Deane still thought he was not
debased enough to place them in so dangerous a position; and yet if they
were not with him, where could he have left them? The one redeeming
quality of the man was his devotion to his wife and the affection with
which he seemed to regard the little Elizabeth.
Jack felt more than ever anxious that he might get out of prison that he
might solve this question. Still, if it was Pearson, he had no wish to
make himself known to him. He felt also a disinclination to mention the
circumstances by which he had become acquainted with the man to his
companions. He thought over and over again how he should act; but at
the end of the time had arrived at no conclusion.