MRS. BELGRAVE’S PROTECTOR
The mate and the captain of the Maud did not appear to agree together
any better than when Louis had listened to them in the interview in the
cabin. Scoble took the non-appearance of the cook very hardly, while
Frinks declined to say anything more about it. Without waiting for the
command of his superior, he ordered the men to trip the anchor, and
stand by the jib-halliards. The captain made no objection, and the
schooner was very soon under way.
Frinks took the wheel, and ordered the men to hoist the jib. Casting on
the port tack, he soon came about, and stood to the southward till the
vessel reached the opening. Then he laid an easterly course, and stood
out to sea. The gale had begun to moderate, though the sea was still
heavy. The Maud began to pitch and roll as she had before; but, as soon
as she was clear of the inlet, the sheets were started, and the vessel
was headed for Sandy Hook Light, about nine miles distant. This change
in the course gave her a free wind, and she behaved better than before.
The mate then called Stowin aft, and gave him the wheel. Instructing
the helmsman to keep well to windward of the light-ship, he intimated
to the captain that he was ready to talk with him in the cabin. Felix
immediately retreated when he heard this remark, and sprang into the
berth next aft of Mrs. Belgrave’s room, where he had pretended to be
asleep when the captain looked about the cabin. Whatever might be the
subject of the conversation, he was anxious to hear all that was said.
“What has become of that other boy, Captain Scoble?” asked the mate as
soon as they had descended the companion-way.
“He is fast asleep in one of the berths on the port side of the cabin,”
replied the captain. “He don’t amount to anything at all, and is as
stupid as an owl at noon-time.”
“Thank you for the compliment,” thought Felix. “Perhaps that is the
kind of fellow I had better be under present circumstances.”
The mate moved aft, apparently to satisfy himself that the intruder,
as both of them now regarded him, was not in condition to listen to
them. Felix opened his mouth partly, and snored musically enough to
have suited the corporosity of Uncle Moses. Frinks looked at him,
and listened to him, and left the berth evidently satisfied that the
occupant was not in condition to hear what was said.
“What shall we do with that young cub?” asked the captain, as the mate
seated himself opposite him at the table.
“I don’t know, unless we throw him overboard,” replied Frinks
indifferently. “Never mind him now; we have better fish to fry.”
“Everything seems to work right for those who have truth and honesty
on their side,” added Scoble.
“I don’t think so, for the devils have got the weather-gage of the
angels this time.”
“What do you mean by that?” demanded Scoble, scowling fiercely.
“I consider the two persons we have just tricked and got rid of as
honest and upright people, and I wish I were like them. I can’t say as
much as that of you or myself,” replied Frinks bluntly.
“I claim to be an honest and upright man,” added Scoble.
“Then the devil himself is one of that sort! But I don’t want to
discuss morality and piety with you, for you know nothing at all about
subjects of that sort.”
“Don’t you think I have a right to my wife?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care, whether you have or not. I haven’t
anything to say about that. You agreed to pay me five hundred pounds if
I helped you out successfully with your business on this side of the
ocean. You were to pay me a hundred pounds when I got the lady and her
son on board of the Maud.”
“But her son is not here now,” pleaded the captain.
“He is not here because you wanted to get rid of him; and I got rid of
him, and the man with him, who was big enough to turn your cake into
dough. One hundred pounds now, Captain Scoble, or we quarrel on the
spot.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry, Frinks. I will pay you every shilling I
agreed to pay you,” said the captain.
“I won’t trust you a day or an hour. One hundred pounds now, or I will
anchor the Maud where she was an hour ago! That is all that need be
said about it. Pay, or lose every trick you have made!”
“But I can’t pay just now,” protested Scoble. “My wife occupies my
stateroom, and I cannot get at my money. I will give you the amount in
the morning, as soon as I can get possession of my room.”
“That won’t do!”
“Would you have me turn a lady out of her room at this time of night?”
“Why not? I don’t care anything about the woman,” replied Frinks,
rising from his seat at the table. “I will get her out of the room in
something less than long metre.”
“No, no, Frinks! Don’t disturb her, for I am going to make my peace
with her; and turning her out of her room would be a very bad
beginning,” argued Scoble, using his most persuasive tones. “It would
be little better than an outrage.”
“That is your affair, and not mine. One hundred pounds down, or we
quarrel! Choose for yourself.”
“If I can’t help myself, I can’t,” muttered the captain.
“You can’t, unless you want to go back to that bay. Of course you
expect to be pursued; for Louis Belgrave is not going to let you carry
off his mother without following you all over the world. The boy has
grit and pluck.”
“I have nothing to fear from him now.”
“Shall I tumble the lady out of that stateroom so that you can get my
money?” demanded the mate.
“I don’t see that I can help myself,” answered Scoble.
“But I can help myself!” shouted Felix McGavonty, leaping from his
berth, and placing himself in front of the lady’s door.
“Oh, you are alive, are you?” said Frinks, contemptuously.
“Faix, I’m aloive and I’m kicking!” replied Felix, with his hand on the
handle of his smaller revolver, with which he had practised a good deal
in a shooting gallery.
“Get out of my way, Paddy, or I shall pulverize that empty head of
yours,” added the mate, moving towards him with the evident intention
of laying hands on him.
“Hould your hoult where ye air!” said Felix, elevating the revolver,
and pointing it at the head of his assailant.
“That’s it, is it Paddy? Two of us can play at that game, and perhaps
one of us will get beaten at it,” replied Frinks, as he retreated
across the cabin and went into the stateroom he had formerly occupied.
Felix had intended to behave like a Milesian simpleton, assuming to
be witless and stupid; but the proposed plan to disturb Mrs. Belgrave
seemed to leave him no alternative but to stand up in her defence,
though he was sorry the occasion required him to take this step.
The mate was absent some time, and had lighted the gimbal-lamp in
his room. Felix kept his place in front of the door; but he fully
understood the object of Frinks in going to his stateroom, and he was
satisfied no shooting would be done in the cabin that night, however it
might be at some future time.
The mate spent at least a quarter of an hour in his room, and appeared
to be rummaging everything there; but he came out at last, and went to
the table where the captain was still seated.
“Have you a revolver, Captain Scoble?” he asked in a more subdued tone.
“I have two of them; but they are in a drawer in my stateroom,” replied
Scoble.
“I don’t know where mine is. I left it in one of the drawers, and
that and the box of cartridges are gone,” added Frinks, very much
discontented at the situation.
“I don’t see that you can do anything about it just now, Mr. Frinks,”
said the captain; and Felix thought he was pleased rather than
disconcerted at the inability of the mate to meet him on equal terms.
“It is time for us to go on deck and look out for the vessel.”
Both of them left the cabin, and mounted the companion-way. Restoring
his weapon to his pocket, Felix followed as far as the slide. He
could see the light-house and the light-ship from the position he had
taken. The sheets were started again, and the vessel was headed to the
southward.
“Whether we are bound to England or Bermuda, we may be overhauled
before daylight,” the listener heard the captain say. “I have studied
up this coast enough to know all about it; by daylight we shall be out
of sight of any craft that floats in these waters. When we come to
anchor we will put that young cub ashore.”
At this moment the listener heard a voice in the cabin, and looking
down discovered Mrs. Belgrave at her door. He did not like the task of
telling her that Louis and Captain Ringgold were no longer on board
of the schooner, and explaining the nature of the plot of which her
friends were the victims. But he could not shirk his duty, and he
hastened to the lady, who was calling her son by name.
“I am very sorry to say, Mrs. Belgrave, that Louis is not here,” said
he in tones of condolence.
“Not here? Where is he, Felix?” she asked with an expression of alarm
on her face.
“He and Captain Ringgold went on shore.”
“And left me here?” she gasped.
In gentle and sympathetic tones he told her what had occurred. The
mate, who had been friendly and had offered to assist them in finding
a suitable place to land the lady, had deceived them, and left them on
shore. Mrs. Belgrave, trembling with emotion and terror, asked him to
go into her room.
“What will become of me?” cried the poor woman, giving way to a flood
of tears.
“Don’t be afraid, Mrs. Belgrave; I will take as good care of you as
Louis could if he were here,” said Felix earnestly.
“What can you do against Scoble and the mate? I know you will do all
you can; but you will be powerless against these men,” sobbed Mrs.
Belgrave.
“Not quite; I got the better of them a little while ago when they were
going to turn you out of your room,” replied Felix, giving her the
details of the defence he had made.
“But you will not shoot them?” inquired she, fixing her gaze upon him.
“I should have fired if necessary; but I should have taken care to
disable them only.”
“But they would fire upon you, Felix.”
“They have nothing to fire with, for we took possession of all the
weapons on board this forenoon.”
Mrs. Belgrave suddenly braced herself up, and her companion was
surprised to see a smile on her face.
“Why am I weeping? I have been childish, and I am glad, as I ought to
be, instead of sorry that things have taken this turn,” said she a
moment later. “Louis is not here, and he is out of the reach of Scoble!
The villain will not harm me, and he has the wickedest intentions in
regard to my son. I am happy now.”
She looked as though she was really happy, and she begged Felix not to
expose himself to any danger as he left the room. Neither the captain
nor the mate came below again during the night; and at sunrise the Maud
was at anchor in a little inlet sixteen miles south of Sandy Hook.