THE OUZEL GALLEY OVERTAKEN BY A HURRICANE--DRIVEN TOWARDS THE COAST OF
CUBA--THE MAINMAST STRUCK BY LIGHTNING--FIRE--OWEN EXTINGUISHES THE
FLAMES--CLOSE IN WITH THE COAST--A STRANGER SEEN--A MUTINY ON BOARD--
CHASED--THE OUZEL GALLEY BOARDED BY PIRATES--O'HARRALL RECOGNISES OWEN,
AND SPARES HIS AND HIS FOLLOWERS' LIVES--THE OUZEL GALLEY CARRIED TO THE
PIRATE'S STRONGHOLD--OWEN AND HIS COMPANIONS IMPRISONED IN THE STORE--
OLD MAMMY KEEPS STRICT WATCH--O'HARRALL'S CHANGEABLE TEMPER--PLANS FOR
ESCAPING--MONTHS PASS BY--FRESH GUARDS SET TO WATCH THEM--HEAR OF THE
LOSS OF THE EAGLE--THE PIRATES STILL IN THE OUZEL GALLEY--OWEN AND HIS
FOLLOWERS ESCAPE IN A CANOE--SEE THE OUZEL GALLEY--AVOID HER--GET ON
BOARD THE RESEARCH.
When Owen Massey sailed from Montego Bay, he had hoped to escape all
enemies and make a rapid passage to Waterford; but those hopes were
doomed to disappointment. Scarcely had the _Ouzel Galley_ passed
Bellevue than signs of a coming gale from the westward were perceptible.
So partial, however, are the disturbances of the atmosphere in that
region, that Owen kept the ship under all sail in the expectation of
being able to run out of it before it reached him. Still he was too
good a seaman not to take the necessary precautions. All hands remained
on deck, while he continually turned his eye to windward, to be ready to
shorten sail immediately it became absolutely necessary. As the day
drew on, the blue mountains of Jamaica grew less and less distinct.
Should the gale overtake him, it was of the greatest importance to gain
a good offing, for in mid-channel he would not have much to fear. The
_Ouzel Galley_ was a stout ship, and, if well handled, might brave the
fiercest hurricane. The log was hove. She was making between eight and
nine knots, a speed she could not often exceed. The wind was well aft
and all her sails filled. His hopes of escaping the gale continued.
After some time, however, he saw that the dark bank of clouds which had
long been visible above the horizon was rising more rapidly than at
first. Then masses detached themselves and came rushing across the sky,
breaking into numerous portions, like the riflemen of an advancing force
feeling their way through an enemy's country. Still he carried on to
the last moment.
"In studding-sails!" he suddenly shouted. "Let fly royal and topgallant
sheets!"
The first-named sails were speedily hauled down. The crew then hurried
aloft to hand the others, which were fluttering in the wind.
"Three reefs in the topsails!" was the next order given.
A strong crew alone could have performed the operation as rapidly as it
was got through. The courses were next brailed up. Still the ship flew
on as fast as previously before the rising gale.
"Bedad! and it's my belafe that we're going to have old Harry Cane on
board," observed Dan to Pompey.
"You not far wrong dere," answered the black. "Cappen Massey know what
him about. I'se sooner be 'board _Ouzel Galley_ when a hurricane
blowing dan on board many a king's ship, when de cappen tink he berry
wise an' carry on till de masts go ober de side."
"Troth! an' ye're right there, Pompey, my jewel! We'll be afther
running out of the harricane, and sorra the worse will we be."
The confidence felt by the young master's two faithful followers was
shared by most of the crew.
The _Ouzel Galley_ behaved admirably; she ran on before the fast-rising
seas roaring up alongside. The wind whistled in her rigging, and bright
flashes of lightning darted from the black clouds now gathering thickly
overhead.
As the night drew on the wind increased, and it was now blowing a
regular hurricane; still, as long as there was plenty of sea room, no
danger was to be apprehended, unless indeed, the ship should be struck
by lightning, against which no skill or seamanship could guard. No one
on board could hide from himself that such might possibly occur, as the
flashes succeeded each other with still greater and greater rapidity,
the lightning frequently running along the yards, now playing round the
mast-heads, now darting over the foaming seas in snake-like forms. In
the intervals between the flashes, so dense was the darkness that the
eye failed to see half across the deck, and had another vessel been
overtaken, the _Ouzel Galley_ might have run her down before she could
have been perceived. The canvas had been reduced to a single
close-reefed fore-topsail, which so tugged and strained at the mast that
every instant it seemed as if about to be torn out of the bolt-ropes.
As long as the wind blew from the westward or south-west, the ship could
run on with safety till she had got to the eastward of Cuba, and before
that time there was every probability of the hurricane ceasing. Her
only safe course was to keep directly before it, for if she were to
bring the seas abeam, they would to a certainty sweep over her and carry
everything before them.
Owen remained on deck, holding on to a stanchion, while two of his
stoutest hands were at the wheel. For some hours he had stood at his
post, feeling no apprehension of danger, when towards the end of the
middle watch the wind shifted suddenly to the southward, blowing with
even greater fury than before. The helm was put a-starboard, and the
_Ouzel Galley_ was now running towards the dangerous coast of Cuba.
There was no help for it; but Owen expected, as is often the case during
a hurricane, that ere long the wind would again shift.
For a short time there was a comparative lull, and all on board hoped
that the gale was breaking.
"We shall be able, I am thinking, sir, to make sail and haul off from
the shore by morning," observed his first mate. "It is well not to get
nearer the Cuba coast than we can help. There are not a few low keys
and sandbanks to bring us up; or one of the enemy's cruisers may be
spying us, and it would give us a job to get away from her."
"As to that, I am not much afraid," answered Owen. "I shall be thankful
when the hurricane is over and we can stand on our course."
The hurricane, however, was not over. Again the wind struck the ship
with tremendous force, the lightning, as before, playing round her,
crackling and hissing as it touched the wildly tossing waves. Suddenly
there came a frightful crash. The splinters flew on every side, and the
tall mainmast, tottering for a moment, fell over the side, breaking away
the bulwarks--either it or the lightning which had riven it killing
three men who were standing near. In its fall it carried away the
mizen-mast.
"Fire! fire! the ship is on fire!" shouted several voices. "Put it out,
then, my lads, and clear away the wreck," cried Owen, seizing an axe
which hung inside the companion-hatch, he himself setting the example,
which was followed by his mates and several others.
While one party was engaged in cutting away the shrouds and running
rigging, so as to let the blazing mass fall into the water, another was
handing up buckets and throwing water over the stump of the mainmast.
The wreck of the mast being got rid of, the flames on deck were soon
extinguished; but a cry came from below that the heel of the mast was on
fire.
"We shall soon put that out, lads," cried Owen, with all the calmness he
could assume; and leading the way into the hold, bucket in hand, he
forced a passage through a dense mass of smoke until he reached the seat
of the fire.
There he took his post, in spite of the heat and the clouds of smoke
surrounding him. As the buckets were handed to him, he hove the water
over the burning wood. Bravely he fought the flames, and at length was
able to shout to his crew that they were extinguished. Having assured
himself of this fact, he hurried on deck. The foremast stood, carrying
the closely reefed fore-topsail.
"It can't be helped," he observed to his first officer. "As soon as the
weather moderates, we must set up fresh backstays to the mast and try
and rig jury-masts, which will carry us back to Port Royal."
"I shall be thankful if we can keep clear of the land and escape the
enemy's cruisers we were talking about, sir," answered the mate, who,
though a steady man, had less spirit than the master.
When daylight broke, the outlines of the lofty mountains of Cuba were
seen ahead, but still indistinct, and, to the ordinary eye, not to be
distinguished from a bank of clouds. Still the ship drove before the
hurricane; but, as the sun rose, the wind began greatly to decrease,
although it still blew with too much force, and the sea ran too high, to
allow the ship to be brought on a wind. She had, therefore, still to
run before it, unwilling as those on board were to approach the
dangerous coast. The sun rose as the land became more and more
distinct, but still the sea was too high to allow of jury-masts being
set up. In the mean time the spars were got ready to do so as soon as
possible.
As the wind decreased the sea went down, but by the time the ship could
be brought on a wind she was within sight of the coast, and, owing to
the eccentric course she had steered, it was difficult to say exactly
whereabouts she was, although Owen calculated that she was somewhat to
the westward of Cumberland harbour.
"We can only hope, sir, that no Spanish man-of-war or privateersman lies
anywhere inside of us, and that we shall be able to get a good offing
again before we are sighted by an enemy," observed the mate.
"I hope so," answered Owen. "What we now have to do is to set up our
jury-masts and make sail as soon as we can."
All hands were engaged in this important operation. While it was going
on, Owen occasionally took an anxious glance through his telescope
towards the land. As he did so, his eye caught sight of a sail, on
which the bright rays of the sun fell, standing out from it, and he soon
saw that she was a large ship. A friend was not to be expected from
that quarter! He made no remark, however, as all hands were working as
fast as they could.
His mate at last saw the stranger.
"What do you think of her?" asked Owen.
"No good, sir," was the answer.
"I fear not," said Owen. "All we can pray for is that a calm may come
on, till we can make sail on the ship, and then we may get away from her
during the night."
"She will be up to us long before that, sir," observed the mate, shaking
his head.
"At all events, in the mean time we will do our best," remarked Owen;
and, without taking further notice of the stranger, he continued working
away with his officers and men.
At length her jury-masts were got up, with yards across, and the
main-topgallantsail, and such other sails as they could carry were set
on them.
By this time the stranger had approached too near to escape the notice
of any one on deck. Of course her character was suspected.
"You see her," cried Owen. "Now, my lads, I hope you will stick by me;
and if she proves to be an enemy, of which I have no doubt, we will try
and beat her off."
Several of the crew answered with a hearty "Ay, ay, sir!" but others
were silent; among them were the men who had lately come on board in
Kingston harbour.
The wind was light, and the _Ouzel Galley_ made but little way through
the water. The stranger was now seen to be a ship of her own size, if
not larger. Owen ordered the colours to be hoisted, but none were shown
in return by the stranger. Again and again he took a glance at her
through his telescope, and at last he called his first mate.
"Have you ever seen that ship before?" he asked.
"I have been thinking that I have, sir, and, if I mistake not, she is
the very craft which so nearly captured us on our passage out."
"I am afraid so," said Owen. "The more reason we should try to beat her
off; and, please Heaven, we will do so."
"I will stand by you, sir; and so, I hope, will most of the men,"
answered the mate; "but I don't like the looks of some of the new hands,
and least of all of that man Routh."
As he spoke, he caught sight of Routh ascending to the mast-head, from
which he was seen to wave a flag, supposing, apparently, that he was not
perceived from the deck.
"We must seize that fellow," cried Owen. "He did not make that signal
without a cause."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the mate. "I will soon learn his object;" and,
calling Dan Connor and Pompey, he went forward to secure Routh as he
descended on deck.
Just then Owen observed a smaller flag hoisted at the mast-head of the
stranger; then Routh, instead of at once coming on deck, ran out to the
end of the fore-yardarm, from whence he dropped something into the
water, apparently the very flag he had just waved. He then deliberately
returned to the foretop, and after stopping there for some seconds, and
looking at the stranger, he slowly descended the fore-rigging. As he
did so, he caught sight of the mate, with Dan and Pompey, waiting for
him, when, suspecting their object, he sprang up again, and shouted to
several men who were standing forward. They were those of whom the mate
had just before spoken as likely to become traitors. With threatening
gestures, they at once advanced towards the mate.
"If you interfere with Routh it will prove the worse for you," exclaimed
John Green, who acted as their spokesman.
The mate's first impulse was to seize the fellow, but his courage failed
him. "You will hear what the captain has to say to this," he answered,
and began to retreat, Dan and Pompey unwillingly following him.
Routh, on this, took the opportunity of slipping down on deck and
joining his companions.
Owen, who had seen what had been taking place, at once went into the
cabin and got his own pistols and cutlass, directing the second mate to
arm the rest of the men. Still, notwithstanding the mutiny on board, he
kept to his determination of fighting the ship till the last.
Fortunately, the mutineers had no arms, and before they were aware of it
all the true men had got their weapons.
"Now, my lads," cried Owen, "if you refuse to do your duty, you must
take the consequences. Go to your guns! The first man I see flinch
from them I will shoot through the head."
This threat seemed to produce its effect, and even Routh obeyed.
The stranger was now rapidly overhauling the _Ouzel Galley_, which,
hauled on a wind, was standing to the south-east. Owen had got his guns
ready for action; the crew were at quarters. Crippled as the _Ouzel
Galley_ was, he could only hope to succeed by speedily knocking away the
enemy's masts, or otherwise seriously damaging her; for, unable to
manoeuvre his ship except very slowly, he could not prevent his opponent
from taking up any position which might be chosen, either ahead or
astern, and raking him at leisure--or she might at once run him aboard
and overwhelm him with superior numbers. Still he bravely determined to
fight till the last.
He anxiously watched the stranger to judge what she would do. She had
at first set all the canvas she could carry, but as she came towards the
_Ouzel Galley_ she shortened sail, gradually also edging away to
leeward, apparently for the purpose of preventing Owen from making his
escape. The enemy had as yet not fired a shot. Directly, however, that
Owen could get his guns to bear he fired them at her; not without some
effect, but that did not make her alter her course.
"She intends to board us, sir," cried the mate, who had been watching
the stranger.
"You are right, but we will give her a broadside or two first, and maybe
make her alter her purpose," answered Owen. "Fire, my lads! and run in
the guns and load again as fast as you can."
The men stationed at the aftermost guns obeyed the order, but the shot
from those forward, manned by the new hands, flew wide of their mark; it
might have been from their ignorance of gunnery, but, considering their
late conduct, it was too probable that it was done on purpose. The rest
of the crew took good aim, and then running in their guns, reloaded
them.
"Here she comes!" cried the mate. "She will be aboard us presently."
As he spoke the stranger ranged up alongside, her decks covered with
men. Four of the _Ouzel Galley's_ guns alone went off, and ere they
could be again loaded the stranger was alongside, throwing
grappling-irons on board to secure her prey.
"Cut them clear!" cried Owen. "Resist boarders!"
As he issued the order, the pirates, who stood ready in the main and
fore-rigging of their ship, leaped down on the deck of the _Ouzel
Galley_, when, with a feeling almost of despair, Owen saw Routh and
several of his crew join them. Still, rallying his men round him, he
resolved, if possible, to drive back the pirates in spite of their
numbers. Firing his pistols, he gallantly attacked them, cutlass in
hand, seconded by his mates and several of his men, Dan and Pompey
fighting with undaunted courage.
"On, my lads! on!" he shouted; and so sturdily did he and his companions
attack the pirates, that they drove the greater number back to their own
ship. This, success encouraged his men, and once more they began to
hope that they should get free.
At this moment, a voice was heard from among the pirates cheering them
on, and a fresh party leaping down on the deck of the _Ouzel Galley_
bore all before them. In vain Owen and his faithful followers, Dan and
Pompey and others, fought with the most determined bravery; they were
soon overwhelmed by far superior numbers. Owen's foot slipping, he fell
upon the deck. At that moment one of his assailants raised his cutlass,
and was on the point of giving him a death blow, when the leader of the
pirates interposed his own weapon.
"Let him live!" he exclaimed. "He is one I am bound to protect; and
these fellows with him--we will spare their lives. You hear?" he
shouted, turning to Dan and Pompey; "if you wish to have a longer spell
of life, drop your cutlasses. The ship is ours; give in, or in another
moment you will be among those who lie there on the deck."
"Faix, thin, yer honour, if yer are going to spare the captin's life, I
have no objection at all at all to live a little longer," answered Dan--
still, however, keeping his cutlass ready to defend himself.
"And I'se too glad to 'cept your offer!" cried Pompey, who also wisely
stood on his guard.
"Let no one touch them, or the boy there," said the pirate, pointing to
Tim Maloney, who, though he had done his part, had now got behind Dan
and Pompey.
A dizziness had come over Owen's eyes as he fell, but now looking up, he
caught sight of the pirate gazing at him. Their eyes met.
"Owen Massey," said the pirate, taking his hand; "I know you and
remember my promise." He pointed to the ring which Owen wore upon his
finger.
"O'Harrall!" exclaimed Owen. "Is it possible that you are the leader of
such men?"
"It is fortunate for you that I am their leader," answered O'Harrall,
helping Owen to rise. "Were I not, you would have shared the fate of
your crew. I will protect you and the three survivors, although it will
be no easy matter to do so."
"I accept your offer, and trust that you will keep your word regarding
my men," answered Owen.
More he could not say, for his feelings overpowered him, as looking
round he saw his two mates stretched dead on the deck, and the rest of
the men who had remained faithful to him weltering in their blood not
far off. Though bruised from his fall, he was not otherwise hurt, nor
were either Dan, Pompey, or Tim wounded.
"The safest place for you and these three men is your own cabin," said
O'Harrall. "Go in there with them, and I will place a sentry at the
door. I cannot trust my own people, and still less the fellows who
turned traitors to you."
Owen, fully agreeing that O'Harrall was right, followed his advice. As
he was going below, he saw Routh approaching O'Harrall. After gazing at
each other for a moment, they shook hands. Owen, on seeing the two
together, no longer wondered that he should have mistaken one for the
other, so great was the likeness.
"They must be brothers, and the man who calls himself Routh is the
younger, of whom my mother has spoken to me," he thought.
Thankful to have escaped with his life, more for his mother's and
Norah's sake than his own, Owen Massey, sad and almost broken-hearted at
the loss of the ship, threw himself into a chair in his cabin, Dan,
Pompey, and Tim standing round him.
"Cheer up, Cappen Massey; tings when dey come to de wust begin to mend,
dey say," observed Pompey, anxious to console his beloved master. "As
de pirate sabe our lives, he set us free p'raps, and den we go back to
Jamacee and you get oder ship."
"Bad luck to the pirates for taking us, though!" exclaimed Dan. "It's
my belafe we should have bate them off, if it hadn't been for that thafe
of the world, Routh, and the other villains. By the powers! if I ever
get the chance, I'll make him repint his treachery; but as you have
escaped, captin dear, the rest matthers but little to my mind in
comparison."
Owen thanked his followers for their kind expressions towards him, but
he severely felt the loss of his mates and the rest of the crew, besides
that of his ship, while he could not look forward with much hope to the
future. He was very doubtful, also, how O'Harrall might treat him. He
knew too well the savage and lawless character of the man, who, though
he had saved his life, might at any moment, in a fit of passion, turn
upon him and his other prisoners; and although he might withhold his
hand from killing him, would without compunction put the others to
death. For the present, however, their lives were probably safe; and
Owen resolved to follow the pirate's advice and remain in the cabin
until summoned to leave it. He could judge by the sounds on deck that
the pirate crew were engaged in repairing the damages the _Ouzel Galley_
had received. After this he heard the order given to make sail, and he
found by a small compass in the cabin that the ship was standing to the
eastward.
After some time O'Harrall himself entered the cabin. "I was compelled
to take your ship, Massey," he said, "and now I have got her I am
equally obliged to keep her; but I repeat to you that your life and the
lives of the two Irishmen are safe, provided you remain below. The
black runs no risk from my people, and he may go on deck and make
himself useful. He will act as your steward, and bring you your meals
while you remain on board. I intend to take command of the _Ouzel
Galley_, so that I shall be able to look after you till you are put on
shore."
Owen was not inclined, it may be supposed, for conversation; while
O'Harrall had matters to attend to on deck. He therefore, having sent
Pompey there, soon left the cabin. After some time the black returned
with a substantial meal, which he had prepared by O'Harrall's orders.
Night came on, and the ship still continued her course. Owen's only
hope was that she might be sighted by some man-of-war and recaptured.
This hope, however, was but slight. The pirates were likely to be wary,
and they would take care to keep away from any strange sail. The wind
was light, and the _Ouzel Galley_ made but slow progress. Owen
recollected that the pirate ship was in company. O'Harrall, when he
came occasionally into the cabin, showed no inclination to give him any
information.
Another and another day went by, and Owen began to lose all hope of
being retaken; still, as long as the ship was at sea, there was a
probability of this occurring.
"Suppose we are chased--won't the pirates be after cutting all our
throats, sure?" suggested Tim, who was more out of spirits than either
Owen or Dan.
Owen could not help thinking that such might be the case; yet if the
_Ouzel Galley_ were to be recaptured, notwithstanding the injury
O'Harrall had done him, he determined to plead for his life. Not that
he could perceive a single good quality in the man, except his undaunted
bravery, and he himself felt grateful to him for saving his his life,
though it was done in return for his twice having saved O'Harrall's.
On the morning of the fourth day the wind freshened, and the ship made
better progress. Towards evening, Owen and his fellow-prisoners could
distinctly hear the roar of breakers. Occasionally the loud voice of
O'Harrall, issuing his orders, reached their ears. The ship rose and
fell several times as if passing over a bar, then Owen felt that she was
gliding on through perfectly calm water. He heard the orders for
shortening sail; still she continued her course for some distance, till
the anchor was dropped and all movement ceased. He could have no doubt
that she had entered a harbour, the rendezvous of the pirates, where
they would consider themselves safe from attack, and that his chances of
escape were now likely to be small indeed. The _Ouzel Galley_ had been
some time at anchor when O'Harrall entered the cabin.
"I have made arrangements for you and the two Irishmen to live on
shore," he said; "the black can attend on you, and you must make the
best of the circumstances in which you are placed. As to your escaping,
that is out of the question, so I will not go through the ceremony of
taking your word that you will not make the attempt. As to the future,
I can say nothing. If I can prudently at any time set you at liberty, I
will do so, although when that may be is more than I can at present say.
You are at liberty to take with you your clothing, and any books you
may require for your amusement. I have obtained that favour for you.
According to our laws, every article on board the ship is public
property, and must be divided accordingly. I will accompany you on
shore as soon as it is dark. In the mean time, you can employ yourself
in putting your things together, and taking farewell of the old ship. I
little supposed when I was before on board that I should one day find
myself her commander."
O'Harrall spoke the last sentence in a somewhat ironical tone, and,
without further remark, left the cabin. It was already dark, and Dan
had lighted the lamp which hung from the deck above when O'Harrall
returned.
"I will take you and your followers on shore now, Captain Massey," he
said. "Ask no questions, and take no notice of anything you see. While
I am with you, you are safe; obey my directions and you will continue
so, but I cannot answer for the conduct of the people hereabouts if you
venture anywhere by yourself. Your men will carry your chest and their
own bags."
Pompey had entered with O'Harrall, to assist Dan and Tim; taking up
Owen's chest, they followed him and the pirate on deck. Not a man was
to be seen on board; the ship appeared to be deserted. A boat was
alongside, with two people in her. The Irishmen and Pompey lowered down
the chest.
"Come, Massey, bid farewell to the old craft," said O'Harrall, in the
same tone in which he had before spoken; and he went down the side of
the ship into the boat.
Owen and his three companions descended after him.
"Shove off," said the pirate in Spanish; and the crew, obeying, began to
pull towards the low shore, which could dimly be distinguished through
the obscurity. A few trees rose above it, and here and there at
intervals twinkling lights could be perceived, as if proceeding from the
huts of the inhabitants.
Owen, as he glanced round, saw at once that the ship lay in the centre
of a lagoon of some size, the shores of which were in most parts low;
but to the southward, the direction of which he knew by the stars
shining brightly from out of the unclouded sky, the ground rose to a
considerable height, with what appeared to be cliffs directly above the
water. Near the _Ouzel Galley_ lay another large ship, and he guessed
that she was the one which had captured her, but he wisely forebore to
ask questions.
"You see the sort of place you are in," said O'Harrall. "It is not one
from which you could easily escape, however much you might desire it;
but let me advise you not to make the attempt. You would to a certainty
be retaken, and I could not save you from the fate to which you would be
doomed. I have already shown that I desire to serve you. I could not
help capturing the _Ouzel Galley_, for the signal made by one of your
crew showed my people that she was a prize worth taking; although I knew
her at once, and guessed that you must be in command, I could not help
myself."
Owen made no reply to these remarks. Bad as a man may be, he generally
endeavours to offer some excuse to those he respects. But little
further conversation passed till the boat reached the beach. O'Harrall
then gave some orders to the men in her, who, as soon as he and his
companions had landed, pulled away. The black and the two seamen then,
shouldering the chests, followed O'Harrall and Owen, the former
conducting them directly inland, passing some groves of cocoa-nut and
other trees, and avoiding any of the huts which were scattered about
here and there. After they had walked nearly a quarter of a mile, a
largish building, which might have been a barn or store, met their gaze,
a light gleaming from one end of it.
"Open the door, Mammy; here are your guests," said O'Harrall, and
immediately an old black woman appeared, with a lamp in her hand, which
she held up to enable her to scrutinise her visitors.
"All right, massa cappen," she said. "Glad to see the gen'lemen. I'se
take good care ob dem, neber fear."
"Go in, Captain Massey," said the pirate. "Mammy will be your hostess
while you remain with us."
Owen and the rest entered the hut. He saw that the room in which they
found themselves occupied only a part of the ground-floor of the
building, being divided off from the larger portion by a wooden
partition or bulkhead. On looking round he saw a ladder, which led
through a trap-door to the floor above.
"Your lodging is to be up there," said O'Harrall, pointing to it. "It
may remind you of a place in which you once gave me shelter. I have not
forgotten that. I wish that I could afford you better accommodation;
however, it is sufficiently large and airy, and you will, I hope, find
it as comfortable as you desire. Mammy will supply you with food, which
your black fellow can cook, with her assistance. The only charge I have
to give you is not to leave the house until you hear from me. A tackle
hangs from the beam overhead. Let your men get your chest and their
bags up at once; so that, should any one come to pay Mammy a visit, it
will not be suspected that you are here. You see, I took precautions
for your safety, and they were not unnecessary. Some of the gentry who
inhabit this island would not scruple to stick a knife into you, if they
thought that you were prying into their proceedings."
"I will follow your directions," answered Owen, telling Dan to go up the
ladder and lower the tackle.
They at once hoisted the chest and bags to the floor above. A second
lamp, which the old woman supplied, showed them a large room which
extended the whole length of the building. At one end was a cabin
table, with some chairs and a cot; at the other several bunks and
seamen's chests. There were numerous bales and boxes placed against the
walls, on which also hung a variety of arms: firelocks, blunderbusses,
and pistols, cutlasses and sabres, apparently the spoils of various
captured vessels.
"You see that I am not afraid of trusting you with weapons," said
O'Harrall who had followed his prisoners into the place, and he pointed
to the arms. "If by chance you are attacked you are welcome to defend
yourselves, but I do not expect that that will happen. This building is
my property; no one will come here, if you keep yourselves quiet. I
have directed Mammy to get some supper for you, and the black will bring
it up shortly. Now, good night. I have matters to attend to on board
the _Eagle_, and it may be some days before I again visit you."
"I have to thank you for the care you take of us," answered Owen. He
could not bring himself to offer his hand to the pirate, nor did the
latter apparently expect him to do so.
Without further remark O'Harrall descended the ladder, and, after
exchanging a few words with the old negress, took his departure.
Owen paced up and down the room, meditating on the strange position in
which he was placed; while Dan and Tim sat on two chests at the further
end, feeling very disconsolate. Pompey, meantime, could be heard below,
chattering away to the old woman while he assisted her in preparing
supper. In a short time he appeared, with a tray on his head, up the
ladder.
"Cheer up, cappen," he said. "She not so bad ole woman, me tink, and
p'raps tings go better dan we suppose. At all events, she make berry
good fricassee." And he pointed to the dish of fowl prepared as he had
described, which looked very tempting.
Notwithstanding their misfortune, Owen and his companions managed to
discuss the viands placed before them with tolerable appetites, the two
seamen and Pompey especially doing their part. At length Owen threw
himself into his cot, and endeavoured to forget his sorrows in sleep.
His followers, having secured the trap-door, imitated his example.
The next day passed without a visit from O'Harrall. Pompey alone went
below to obtain food, Owen thinking it prudent to follow the pirate's
advice. He spent the time walking up and down the room, occasionally
trying to calm his mind by reading; so that he found the hours pass away
more rapidly than did Dan or Tim, who were ignorant of the art. It
occurred to him at last that he might amuse them as well as himself, and
as several of his books were of an interesting character, he read aloud
to them, greatly to their delight.
"Faix, captin, I niver knew there was sich beautiful things in books,"
exclaimed Dan, who had not in his life been read to before; "and I'll
jist make bould to axe you to tache Tim and meself, and you'll find us
apt scholars, if you don't think us too simple to learn."
"With all my heart," answered Owen; and thenceforth he devoted several
hours during the day to the instruction of Dan and the lad, who, giving
their minds to the task, rapidly learnt to read.
One day passed very much like another. A month went by without
O'Harrall's making his appearance, so that Owen concluded that he had
again sailed. Pompey could obtain no information. Mammy, he said, had
made him promise not to go outside the door, and had threatened him with
fearful punishment if he ventured to do so. There were windows to the
room, but they were high up and strongly barred. Dan and Tim climbed up
to them, but a grove of trees intervened between the house and the
harbour, so that nothing could be seen of the vessels, while on the
other side was a wide extent of sandy country, with the blue ocean in
the distance.
Owen was naturally getting very weary of his captivity. What the
pirate's object was in keeping him a prisoner, it was difficult to
understand. He could scarcely intend to keep him a captive for life;
but when would he give him his liberty was the question. Owen
determined to ask him as soon as he returned. He naturally often
thought over some plan for making his escape, but, unacquainted as he
was with the surrounding country, and without means of gaining any
knowledge of it, it was impossible to decide what to do. Dan and Tim
often talked over the subject with Pompey, who, however, declared that
they were so narrowly watched by the old woman that it would be
impossible to succeed.
"Mammy always sleep wid one eye open and ear wide-awake," he observed.
"Suppose we get out and she not raise a hullabaloo, where we go to?
Wait a bit, and den we see what we do."
Pompey, in truth, was no more able than the rest of the party to devise
any feasible plan for getting away.
Imprisonment is galling to all men, but it was especially so to Owen,
who had hoped to make a successful voyage, and to marry his beloved
Norah at the end of it. He had no means of communicating with her, and
she, naturally supposing him to be lost, would be plunged in grief. He
felt that he could better bear his hard fate if he could but let her
know that he was alive. He might some day regain his liberty. He had
no doubts about her constancy; he was sure that she would be faithful to
him; and although her friends might try to induce her to marry, he felt
confident that she would not do that.
At length, one evening when Pompey was sitting with his shipmates in the
loft, voices were heard below.
"Hi, dat de pirate cappen," he exclaimed; and Owen prepared himself for
an interview with O'Harrall.
Before long the pirate came up the ladder. A dark scowl was on his
brow. Owen rose to receive him. O'Harrall advanced and threw himself
into a chair, scarcely glancing at the men as he passed them.
"I am glad to see you, Captain O'Harrall, for I hope that you will allow
me and my companions to quit this place, and we shall be ready to enter
into any arrangement you may dictate not to betray its position," said
Owen.
"I am not in the habit of placing myself in the power of others when I
can help it," answered O'Harrall. "Your word may be as good as your
bond, but both may be broken. I tell you plainly I intend to keep you
prisoners as long as I remain in these seas. Circumstances may induce
me to return to Europe, and if so, I may either carry you with me or
land you at some island, from whence you may find your way to Jamaica.
When that may be I cannot say. In the mean time, you must make up your
mind to be content with your lot."
"You might land me, when you next sail from this, at some such place as
you speak of without any detriment to yourself," said Owen; and,
bethinking him that he would appeal to the pirate's better feelings, he
added, "You have deprived me of my vessel and ruined my prospects of
advancement. I was engaged to marry a young lady who is sincerely
attached to me, and for her sake I plead for my liberty, that I may be
able to return to her, or at all events inform her that I am still
alive."
"Who is she?" asked O'Harrall, "although I need scarcely put the
question."
"Captain Tracy's daughter--you have often seen her," answered Owen.
"I thought so," exclaimed O'Harrall. "You have counted too much on my
generosity. I have not only seen her, as you say, but admire her more
than any woman I have met, and should I ever wed I intend to make her my
wife. Is it likely, then, that I should allow you to return home and
forestall me?"
Owen's heart sank: he could not reply.
"You have but ill pleaded your cause," continued O'Harrall in the cold
sarcastic tone in which he often spoke. "You saved my life, and I have
preserved yours; more you cannot expect from me. Those men there
behaved well to me on board the _Ouzel Galley_, and I therefore could
not allow them to be killed. My sense of justice does not go further
than that. You and they must make up your minds to remain where you are
for an indefinite period. I came to see how you had acted, and if you
behave as wisely as you have hitherto done you need not fear being
subjected to any further restraint. I will, by-the-by, send you some
books for your amusement. You will see by this that I do not wish to
treat you with greater severity than is necessary. Now, good evening."
O'Harrall rose as he spoke, and without further remark descended the
ladder, drawing the trap after him.
A parcel of books was delivered through Mammy the next day; they
consisted chiefly of voyages and travels, and proved a great boon to the
prisoners. O'Harrall, however, did not again appear until some weeks
after this. He was, when he then came, evidently in a bad humour, his
manner being even threatening towards his prisoners. He spoke as if he
regretted having spared their lives, exhibiting by the expressions he
used his abandoned disposition. Owen knew that his only safe course was
not to answer him. He felt that it would be hopeless to attempt to
arouse any better or more generous feelings. He, however, was more than
ever resolved to try and escape.
Dan proposed, could they ascertain that the pirates had sailed on any
expedition, to secure the old woman, make their way down to the harbour
during some dark night, and attempt to gain the open sea. Once clear of
the island, they might hope to get picked up by some ship, and under
their circumstances they might trust even to an enemy, or they might
succeed in reaching Jamaica. They must wait, however, until the
hurricane season was over, and they might then, even in a canoe,
navigate these calm seas without much danger.
Owen thought the plan feasible, although it might prove difficult and
dangerous. It could scarcely be hoped that the pirates would leave the
harbour unguarded. It might be a hard matter to find a canoe suitable
for their object, and they must also obtain a supply of provisions and
water. Mammy's watchful eye would effectually present them from doing
this, and herein lay their first and chief difficulty.
O'Harrall had now been for some time absent. It struck Owen that
perhaps the account he had given of the savage character of the
inhabitants was to prevent then from leaving the house, and he resolved
to try how Mammy would behave should they attempt to go out.
Pompey undertook to try and persuade her to allow them to take some
exercise, as their health was suffering from their long confinement. He
got her, therefore, one day into conversation, when she appeared to be
in a better humour than usual, and after some time he made a signal to
Tim, who was on the watch, to come down. Owen and Dan followed. Then,
telling her that they would go out and take a short walk, they left the
house without further ceremony, notwithstanding her expostulations.
"Nebber mind, Mammy," said Pompey; "dey come back. Me help you cook
dinner meantime."
Owen took a path in the first instance away from the harbour, but as his
great object was to obtain a view of it, he doubled back on the other
side, and then hurried towards it. Just as they had caught sight of the
water through the trees, they came upon a hut, near which they were
about to pass, when Owen heard the voice of a man, as if in pain,
proceeding from it. Prompted by a kind feeling and a wish to relieve
the sufferer, he entered. On a rude bunk lay a white man, apparently
ill of fever. He appeared greatly astonished at seeing Owen and his
companions.
"Who are you?" he asked. "I thought the ship had sailed."
"I would inquire who you are?" said Owen.
"Well, sir, I am an unfortunate fellow, who wishes that he was anywhere
but where he is. I see that you are not one of the _Eagle's_ crew, and
so I don't mind telling you. I joined her to save my life, and now that
I am ill I am allowed to die like a dog by myself, with no one to look
after me. I was left on shore sick, and since I grew worse I have been
unable to get any food, and I am too weak to walk."
Owen promised to try and induce Mammy to supply the poor fellow with
nourishment. He would at once have hurried back, but he was anxious,
having got thus far, to obtain a view of the harbour. Accordingly,
telling the man he would send him relief as soon as possible, he, with
Dan and Tim, left the hut, and made their way on, keeping themselves
concealed as much as possible among the trees and bushes till they came
in full view of the harbour.
It was a wide lagoon, which narrowed towards the southern end, where a
perpendicular cliff of some extent rose directly out of the water, its
summit covered with trees. Both Owen and Dan were of opinion that this
formed one end of the channel leading to the sea. No boats or canoes
could be discovered on the beach. Further along it to the northward
were seen a number of huts and buildings of larger size, probably
storehouses. People were moving about among them, but it was impossible
at the distance they were to know if they were blacks or whites. In the
centre of the harbour lay the _Ouzel Galley_, much in the condition in
which she had been when captured, and there were several smaller vessels
at anchor, completely dismantled.
So far the inspection of the harbour had been satisfactory; there was
nothing that Owen could see to prevent the possibility of their
escaping. The party hastened back to the house. Mammy scolded them for
being so long absent. "If cappen here, you no do it," she observed; by
which remark they guessed that, though she held O'Harrall in awe, she
had herself no ill-feeling towards them. On Owen's telling her of the
sick man, she consented to let Pompey take him some food, and undertook
to visit him herself, provided they would promise not to leave the house
during her absence. This they readily agreed to do.
Some days afterwards, when Owen again managed to get as far as the hut,
he found the man greatly recovered. John Hempson (as he said was his
name) professed himself very grateful, and declared his intention of
escaping from the pirates on the first opportunity. "I suppose that
they will take me to sea the next time they go," he observed, "and if I
then have the chance, I will leave them. They are likely to be back
soon, and, indeed, I wonder they have not come in before this."
"Well, then," said Owen, "if you ever return to the old country, you
must promise to find out Captain Tracy, living near Waterford, and tell
him that I am alive, and hope some day to get back. Depend on it, the
captain will reward you for your trouble."
"How will he believe me?" asked Hempson.
"I will write a letter for you to deliver," said Owen. He, however,
recollected that he possessed no writing materials, and he might not
again have the opportunity of communicating with Hempson. That moment
it occurred to him that he had a small book in his pocket. It contained
but a portion of a blank leaf. He tore it out, and with the end of a
stick he wrote the letters "O.M."
"When my friends see this, they will know that you are speaking the
truth," he said, giving the man the paper.
Just then Dan, who had gone on ahead, came hurrying back with the
information that a ship was entering the lagoon, and Owen thought it
prudent at once to return to the house. Mammy, on hearing this, told
her captives that they must not again venture forth, and they, of
course, saw the prudence of obeying her.
O'Harrall, who had returned in the ship, paid them but one visit, when
he evidently wished to find a cause for quarrelling with Owen. Owen
wisely kept his temper, though Dan looked as if he would like to try the
strength of his shillelagh on the pirate's head. Whether or not
O'Harrall suspected that his prisoners contemplated trying to make their
escape, it was difficult to say; but they found that a hut was put up
close to their abode, and that it was occupied by two Spaniards,
ill-looking fellows, who seemed to have nothing to do but to sit at the
door and smoke all day. They did not, however, prevent Mammy going out,
accompanied by Pompey, to obtain provisions; and the latter brought them
word that the ship had again sailed. Pompey also found out that Hempson
had gone on board the ship, and Owen hoped that he would carry out his
intention of escaping. Slight as was the chance that he would convey
any information to Captain Tracy, it yet raised Owen's spirits.
"We, must wait, howeber, to get 'way till we can manage dese rascal
Spaniards," said Pompey. "Dey keep de eye too wide open to let us go
just now."
Days and weeks and months went by, and nothing occurred to vary the
monotony of their existence. The Spaniards kept too strict a watch to
enable them to make any excursions out of the house, and Mammy herself
seemed as cautious as she had been on their first arrival. Had it not
been for the interest Owen felt in teaching his two countrymen to read,
his own spirits would have broken down. Pompey also begged to go to
school and join their class, but he had great trouble in learning his
letters, although after he knew them he got on as rapidly as either of
his companions.
Thus several months more passed by. Twice the _Eagle_ came in, and
again sailed without their receiving a visit from O'Harrall. Owen was
becoming more and more sick at heart. It may seem strange that he and
his three companions should have been kept in such thraldom by an old
woman and two Spaniards, but could these ever-watchful guardians have
been overpowered, and even a canoe secured, it would have been madness
to have put to sea without provisions and water, with the chance of
being pursued or picked up by the pirate ship. He waited, therefore,
for an opportunity, which, however, he at times thought might never
arrive.
Pompey had at length one day gone out with Mammy, when on his return he
brought the news that the _Eagle_ had been lost, and that the captain,
with a portion only of the men, had returned in a small vessel they had
captured. Owen naturally feared that O'Harrall, after his misfortune,
would be in a worse temper than before, and was thankful that he did not
make his appearance. Pompey accounted for it by informing them that he
and all hands were on board the _Ouzel Galley_, busily employed in
fitting her out.
It was now again the hurricane season, and some time would probably
elapse before the pirates would venture to put to sea. For the same
reason Owen considered that it would not be prudent to try and make
their escape. Their chance, however, of getting off undiscovered was
less than it had been before, for so great was the demand for hands to
man the _Ouzel Galley_ that the two Spaniards were called away from
their post, and no others were sent to take their places. One evening,
about this time, Pompey made his appearance in a great state of
agitation.
"What do you tink, Cappen Massey?" he exclaimed. "I talk berry often to
Mammy, and not 'spect anyting, but dis berry morning I'se tell her dat,
when I was one piccaninny, I'se carried away from Africa wid my mudder;
when I'se come to Jamaica, one massa buy her and anoder buy me, and from
dat day I neber set eyes on her. We talkee for some time, and den she
cry out, `You Pompey, my son,' and she trew her arms round my neck and
burst into tears. Den I kiss her and tell her dat she right, and we
laugh and cry togeder for two 'ole hours."
Owen, upon further questioning Pompey, was convinced that he was not
mistaken. It greatly raised his spirits, and he had now hopes that
Mammy would connive at their escape, even if she would not venture to
assist at it. Pompey was very sanguine about the matter. "She so happy
to find me dat she do anyting I ask," he said positively. "Neber fear,
cappen, we get away soon."
It was, of course, necessary to wait till the _Ouzel Galley_, now fitted
out as a piratical ship, should sail. With varied feelings Owen saw her
one morning gliding out of the harbour. He, accompanied by Pompey, had
gone as near to her as he could venture. He had but little to fear of
being discovered, as the whole population of the place were watching the
departing ship. It was certainly trying to see his own vessel sailing
away in the hands of the miscreants who had captured her, on an
expedition which boded ill for any merchant vessels she could overtake.
She was rigged exactly as before.
Owen would not have delayed making the attempt to escape, but the nights
were moonlight, and they would run a great risk of being discovered.
After this bad weather came on, and a further delay occurred. Pompey
had undertaken to look out for a suitable craft. It was necessary to
use caution in the search lest their intention might be suspected. He
had made several trips along the shore, and had discovered places where
boats and canoes were hauled up, but some were too large and heavy, and
others too small. At last he said that he had found one of a proper
size to hold five persons, and provisions and water sufficient to last
them for a week or ten days. "Five persons!" exclaimed Owen.
"Yes, cappen. Mudder says she go too. If she stop, dat fellow cut her
troat."
Although Owen would rather have dispensed with the company of the old
woman, yet, in common humanity, he felt bound to take her if she wished
to go. It showed, also, that she had confidence in their success, and
would contrive to obtain the necessary provisions. About this she had
been engaged for some time, getting some in one place and some in
another, so that no suspicions might be raised as to her object.
The _Ouzel Galley_ had sailed a fortnight or more, when Pompey announced
that all was ready. Mammy packed up all the provisions in bundles, and
had obtained two small casks of water, besides a number of gourds filled
with the precious liquid. Pompey and Dan started as soon as it was
dark, carrying loads, which they intended to hide near where the canoe
was drawn up.
"We carry all de tings dere first," he said, "and den you, cappen, and
mudder, and Tim, come along, and we shove off widout delay."
The last trip was made at about an hour before midnight, when Pompey and
Dan returned, and Owen, with the old woman and Tim, accompanied them
down to the beach. The night was very dark; no human being was
stirring. As silently as possible the canoe was launched, when the
stores were quickly put on board.
"Now, mudder, we put you 'longside cappen," whispered Pompey. "Whateber
happen, don't cry out."
And taking the old woman up in his arms, he waded with her till he
plumped her down in the stern of the canoe. She knew no more of the
navigation than they did, so she could not be of further use to the
adventurers, and they thus had to depend on their own judgment.
Owen took the after paddle. Pompey placing himself in the bows, Dan and
Tim gave way, and the canoe noiselessly glided down towards the supposed
entrance to the harbour. They hoped that any look-outs who might, under
ordinary circumstances, have been stationed on the other side of the
channel, would be withdrawn to man the _Ouzel Galley_. They therefore
trusted that they could escape without being questioned. Still the
expedition was one to try the best strung nerves. Owen feared that,
should they be hailed, Mammy might forget her son's injunction. He was
not aware of the determined character of the old woman.
They soon got into the narrow channel, in the centre of which Owen
steered the canoe. It was necessary to proceed slowly, as from the
darkness the shore on either side was in some places scarcely visible.
The channel was long and intricate, but Owen, of course, knew that there
must be considerable depth of water to allow large ships to get up it.
They had just got to the end of the cliff, when a light was seen.
Whether it proceeded from a hut or from a man with a lantern, it was
impossible to say.
"Cease paddling," whispered Owen; and the canoe glided on with the
impulse already given to it.
The light remained stationary.
"Give way," he again whispered. The men plied paddles as before. They
had got some way further down, when they were startled by hearing a man
shout, "Who goes there?"
They all remained perfectly silent and motionless. Just then the noise
of the surf on the shore reached their ears, and they knew that they
must be close to the entrance.
The man did not repeat his question for nearly a minute. As soon as he
again began to speak, Owen told Dan and Tim to paddle away. He and
Pompey did so likewise, and the canoe glided forward at a far more rapid
rate than before. A shot was heard, but the bullet came nowhere near
them. It was evident they could not be seen by the guard. The channel
now widened out considerably, and they could distinguish the open sea
beyond; they made towards it. There was but little or no surf on the
bar, and they crossed without shipping a drop of water.
Owen had made up his mind to steer to the southward till they should
sight Cuba. He felt sure that the pirate island was one of those which
exist close to the Bahama Bank. Owen steered by the stars. His crew
plied their paddles all night, the wind being too light to make it worth
while to set the sail, and they hoped to be far out of sight of the
island by daybreak. They were not without fear, however, that they
might be pursued. The man who had fired at them would suppose that they
were fugitives.
"Ill luck to the spalpeens who may be sent in chase after us!" observed
Dan, showing what he was thinking about.
"Me no tink dat any boat come off after us," said Pompey, "'cos ebery
man who can pull an oar is on board _Ouzel Galley_, so we safe as to
dat."
The black's remark was cheering to Owen, who had hitherto thought it
very probable that they would be pursued. Mammy, who as yet had not
uttered a word, corroborated her son's statement.
When morning broke the island could scarcely be seen astern, nor was any
land in sight ahead. The sea was perfectly calm; the sky overhead
undimmed by a cloud. Owen looked round; no sail was visible in any
direction. All they could do was to paddle on, in the hope that a
favourable breeze would spring up to carry them on their course, when
two at a time might get some sleep. The weather looked perfectly
settled, and, though the canoe was somewhat deeply laden, Owen felt
confident that she would be able to go through any sea which was likely
to get up. His chief anxiety arose from the possibility there was of
falling in with the _Ouzel Galley_. Should they do so, they could
scarcely expect any mercy from the pirates. He, of course, intended to
do his best to keep clear of her. This he trusted that he might easily
do, as the canoe, being low in the water, was not likely to be attract
the attention of those on board the ship, while she could be seen in
time to be avoided.
A breeze came at last; the sail was hoisted, and the canoe ran merrily
before it. Dan begged that he might take the steering paddle, and that
the captain would lie down and get some rest, which Owen was glad to
obtain, as he intended to steer during the night. The sun was setting
when he awoke, and after some supper was served out he resumed the
steering paddle, and told Dan and Pompey, who had hitherto been keeping
watch, to turn in. Notwithstanding the sleep he had obtained, towards
morning he began to feel very drowsy; still his eye was fixed on the
star by which he was directing the course of the canoe.
Tim had been stationed forward to keep a look-out, and Owen had hailed
him every now and then to ascertain that he was awake. He had not done
so, however, for some time, and was on the point of crying out, when Tim
exclaimed, "By the powers, captin, there's a big ship ahead!"
"Lower the sail!" exclaimed Owen. "Dan and Pompey, out with your
paddles."
They started up at hearing their names called, and obeyed the order.
"Paddle for your lives, lads!" cried Owen, keeping the canoe to the
eastward.
Tim was not mistaken. The wide-spread canvas of a large ship was seen
towering upwards not half a mile away; in a few minutes more she would
have been close to the canoe. Owen and his companions watched her
anxiously; there could be little doubt that she was the _Ouzel Galley_.
Although she was clearly seen, they might hope to escape observation.
They continued, however, paddling away at right angles to her course
till they were well abreast of her, when Owen once more put the canoe's
head to the southward; but not, however, till she was out of sight did
he venture again to hoist the sail. The danger he had chiefly feared
was past. It would take her probably a day or two before she could
reach the harbour and discover their flight, and they might hope thus to
keep well ahead of any boat sent in pursuit of them.
Two days more they stood on. One passed by very like the other. The
wind remained steady, the sea smooth.
On the fourth day, some time after sunrise, a sail was seen ahead. Had
not they all felt sure that the ship they had passed was the _Ouzel
Galley_, they would have avoided her. Although prepared, if necessary,
to perform the whole voyage to Jamaica, Owen judged that it would be far
safer to get on board the first ship they could fall in with. He
resolved, therefore, to approach her, and should she prove to be
English, to run alongside. He little doubted that, even should she be
French or Spanish, on their giving an account of their escape from the
pirates, they would be treated with humanity. He accordingly steered
towards her.
"Hurrah!" cried Dan. "She's a frind, she's a frind--for, there, up goes
the English flag."
His quick eye had seen the character of the bunting as it ascended in a
ball to the peak, even before it blew out to the breeze.
As the canoe approached, the ship hove to, and in a few minutes the
party of fugitives were alongside. Owen was quickly on deck, when the
first person he encountered was Gerald Tracy. Exclamations of surprise
burst from their lips, and Owen was soon shaking hands with Norman Foley
and the rest of the _Champion's_ officers. His companions had followed
him, Pompey shoving up old Mammy with his shoulder, while Dan hauled
away at her from above. Numerous questions were put to Owen as to where
he had come from, and he had to answer them before he could ask others
in return.
At first he had experienced a feeling of intense satisfaction upon
finding himself on board a friendly ship, but his grief may be imagined
when he now heard that Captain Tracy and his daughter had fallen into
the power of O'Harrall and his savage crew. Instead of rejoicing at his
escape, he regretted having left the island, lest they might retaliate
on their hapless prisoners. He trembled at the thought of what might be
Norah's fate. Gerald, of course, shared his feelings; and, indeed,
every one sympathised with them both.
As soon as the canoe was hoisted up the sails were filled, and the
_Research_ again stood on her course towards the pirate's island.