IN PURSUIT OF THE MAUD
Louis Belgrave recalled the circumstances under which Bickling had
applied to him for permission to go in the boat with the exploring
expedition. He had asked to be taken with the young man, saying that he
could be of service to him. Before he could say anything more the mate
came on deck, and the cook seemed to be in mortal terror of him, for he
had noticed the fright of the fellow at the moment.
It did not occur to Louis at the time that anything could be wrong in
the arrangements for visiting the shore; but he realized now that the
cook had discovered some signs of treachery on the part of Frinks; but
his fears prevented him from uttering a word.
“It looks now as though you knew something about the trick which has
been played upon us, Bickling,” continued Louis, more gentle in his
manner than before.
“Which I didn’t know anything at all about it, sir, but which I thought
there was something wrong goin’ on in the cabin, sir, and I did not
know what,” pleaded Bickling.
“I am sorry you did not speak to me.”
“Which I should ’ave done if I ’ad known what was hup, sir.”
Though Louis had given the cook twenty-five dollars, rather for the
service he rendered him and his party as cook than for any other
reason, he could not feel that he had any claim upon the fidelity of
the man. He had made an advance towards telling what he knew; but he
was sadly wanting in pluck, and he had failed, so that the intention
must be taken for the deed.
“Did you know that it was the mate’s purpose to abandon us on the
shore, and return to the schooner?” asked Louis.
“Which I hope to die when my time comes, sir, if I ’ad the smallest
idea of what he was goin’ to do, sir!” protested the cook vehemently.
“If I ’ad, sir, I wouldn’t ’ave let you and the captain go in the boat.
I thought I’d ’ave a chance to tell you what little I knew when you got
to the shore. If I ’ad let Mr. Frinks know what I was tellin’ you, that
would have spoiled, the ’ole, and the mate would have killed me dead on
the spot, sir.”
“That is sensible, Louis,” interposed the captain. “He could not afford
to blow on the mate; it was not safe for him to do so, as he did not
belong on our side of the question.”
“Which the young gentleman has been very kind to me, and I was glad to
do him a good turn if I could; and I am very sorry I could not, sir,
which it is all I can say, sir,” pleaded the cook.
“He meant right, Louis, and it is a pity he had not a small portion of
your pluck,” added the captain.
“Now tell me what you did know, Bickling,” continued Louis.
“I was trying to get to sleep, sir, on one of the sofas, when I ’eard a
noise near the mate’s room. I looked that way, sir, but I did not move,
and the mate thought I was asleep, no doubt. He unlocked the door of
the stateroom, for he ’ad an extra key, and went in, sir. He shut the
door after him; and then I heard him and the captain talking together.”
“Could you make out what they said?” asked Louis, not a little excited
at the revelation of the cook.
“Not much of it, sir, which they did not talk out very loud, sir.
They were to get possession of the vessel, but ’ow it was to be done,
I did not ’ear, sir. I put my hear to the partition, and tried ’ard
to understand what they said, sir. By this time I reckon they ’ad
fixed the plan to get the vessel; and I heard Captain Farrongate, or
whatsoever his name might be, say that he should go to Bermuda, sir,
while the friends of the lady would go to Southampton to look for her,
sir. That is all, sir, and every syllable I could make out, sir.”
The man had some education, and he did not mangle his h’s very badly
unless he became very much excited. It was easy enough to see that he
was one of those men of no force of character that are often met in
the world, but are at the same time filled with good intentions. The
plot to leave Louis and the captain on the shore to the westward of the
creek, the cook insisted, had not been mentioned in his hearing. He had
made out the last part of the conversation, and that certainly was very
important as a guide to future movements.
During this narration the trio had been walking at a tolerably rapid
pace towards the town, finding a footbridge over the creek, and had
accomplished a good part of the distance. It was midnight, and most of
the lights in the houses had been extinguished. Another quarter of an
hour brought them to the few wharves in the place, for the party had
kept near the shore of the bay all the way from the creek.
With the most intense interest on the part of Louis, they passed from
one pier to another, till they had gone beyond the water front of
the town. Not a steamer of any kind was there; no tug-boat had taken
shelter from the storm within the bay, so far as they could discover.
There was not a light to be seen on the waters of the bay, and the few
vessels in port were all made fast to the wharves, where they were
partially sheltered from the violence of the gale.
With the midnight hour came a change in the aspect of the weather,
which Captain Ringgold was the first to observe. The wind was hauling
to the westward, and it had been what he called a “dry storm.” He was
confident that the sun would rise clear in the morning, for the wind
had already measurably abated.
“That will be favorable to Scoble in getting away,” suggested Louis.
“Yes, it will help him to get clear of the coast. Though the Maud is a
very bad sailer on the wind, she seemed to be a weatherly vessel, and I
have no doubt, by this time, she is pounding against the seas outside
of this bay. It is an awful pity that there is not a tug within hail of
us; but there is not, and I don’t see that we can help ourselves.”
“At this moment I wish I owned that steam-yacht you were telling me
about yesterday,” said Louis, who was musing sadly over the present
hopeless situation.
“I wish you did! If you did, there would be music very soon at the
heels of the Maud!” exclaimed Captain Ringgold. “But we must do
something, and not stand here all night.”
“I feel just as though all our hands were tied behind us, and I don’t
see that we can do anything,” added Louis.
“We must do something! I used to know a certain Captain Boulong who
lived in this town. He was the master of a coaster formerly, but I have
not seen him for two or three years.”
“Do you know his first name, captain?”
“I do; for he owed me a note, which he paid on time, and is an honest
man. Captain Drench Boulong was his name, and is still if he is in the
land of the living.”
“Then he is the mate of the Blanche, which is Mr. Woolridge’s yacht. I
know him very well,” replied Louis, who had heard the captain of the
yacht call him by his first name when they were in conversation.
“If he is the mate of a yacht he is not likely to be at home, though he
may be. I know where his house used to be, and I can find it. We will
look him up, for we have nothing better to do.”
Captain Ringgold led the way very directly to a small cottage on a side
street, where he knocked loud enough to wake all the sleepers within
a mile. The summons was effectual, for a man soon put his head out a
window on the lower floor, and demanded who was there.
“Captain Royal Ringgold,” replied the gentleman from the Park.
“And Louis Belgrave,” added the young man.
“I know you both, and what can I do for you?” asked Mr. Boulong, whose
voice was readily recognized.
“Is there a steamer of any sort to be had at this port?” inquired the
captain.
“Not unless some tug has put into the Kills for the night.”
“We could not find one. Is there any sort of a craft to be had?”
“Possibly,” replied the mate of the Blanche. “Wait a moment, and I will
let you in. Then we will see what can be done.”
A few minutes later Mr. Boulong opened the front door, and showed them
into his little parlor. In as few words as possible Louis explained the
situation, declaring that his mother was a prisoner on board of the
Maud, at that moment, without doubt, proceeding to sea. He told all it
was necessary to know in order to understand the unfortunate dilemma
of Mrs. Belgrave. The mate asked some questions, which were promptly
answered.
“We brought the Blanche down here yesterday to clean her bottom,
and she is at anchor just below the town, where there is a beach. I
suppose you know that Captain Alcorn lives here as well as myself,
Louis?” added Mr. Boulong. “As you and your mother are good friends
of our owner, he may be able to do something for you, as I am sure
Mr. Woolridge would if he were on the ground. If you will wait a few
minutes I will call up Captain Alcorn; or we will go to his house if
you like.”
The party attended the mate to the residence of the captain of the
yacht. He listened to the story of Louis, and then immediately
volunteered to pursue the Maud in the Blanche. They proceeded to the
beach off which the yacht was anchored, stopping at the railroad
station to send a night message to the owner. All the ship’s company
of the Blanche were on board; the captain hailed the vessel, and the
anchor watch sent a boat for the party. All hands were astir when the
party reached the vessel, and in a very short time she was under way,
standing towards the entrance to the inlet.
“You say the Maud is bound to Bermuda, Louis,” said Captain Alcorn,
after the yacht was fairly under way.
“That is what Bickling, the cook of the schooner, overheard Captain
Scoble say,” replied Louis.
“The wind has got round to the westward; it is fairing off, and we
shall have a good day,” continued the captain of the yacht. “As near
as I can make it out, the Maud must have got under way about half-past
eleven last night.”
“That was about the time,” added Captain Ringgold. “The wind has come
round so that she can turn out her reefs and make a fair wind of it.”
“Even if the Maud is bound to Bermuda, Captain, do you believe she will
lay her course from Sandy Hook to the islands?” asked Captain Alcorn.
“I believe you were in the navy in the war as well as myself, and you
know what it is to chase an enemy even with no more than four hours
the start of you.”
“I was telling Louis this morning that my ship followed the Alabama for
months without getting a sight at her,” replied the shipmaster.
“The Maud has the advantage over any man-of-war enemy, for she can
go into any port she pleases,” suggested Captain Alcorn. “This
Scoble, from what you have told me, is aware that his vessel is not
a high-flyer. After the mischief he has done, or the crime he has
committed, he may reasonably expect to be pursued by some fast craft.”
“But he is not aware that we know he is bound to Bermuda, and if we
chase him at all he will suppose we will follow him to Southampton,”
said Louis.
“Very true, and there is a good deal in that. Now, I believe the
fellow will skulk into some inlet or bay where there is little or
no population, and remain there concealed till he is satisfied any
pursuers are half-way across the Atlantic,” added the captain of the
yacht.
“I have considered that idea very faithfully, and I think it is a
reasonable supposition.”
“There are plenty of openings all along the New Jersey coast, and
probably Scoble went into one of them to have his vessel painted.”
The course was agreed upon between the two sea-captains.