I COME TO THE CANARIES IN BETTER PLIGHT THAN I STARTED.
When the seamen had hidden me away, so that no man not knowing the ways
of the ship could well come at me save by discharging the hold of its
stores, one brought me some meat and drink, and then I was left to
myself in the dark. For some time all was quiet above, but about noon,
as I judge, I heard a great bustle on the decks of pulling ropes and the
like, and this continued all day until the evening, when the anchors
were drawn up and the ship made sail. And the reason of this commotion
was that Rodrigues, having got away from the sheriff's men, under
pretense of seeking relief for his arm, sped him to Sir Bartlemy
Pengilly to tell him how I had refused his offer, but had nevertheless
gone aboard the _Sure Hawk_ to escape the law; whereupon the knight,
mightily pleased with this turn, ordered Sir Harry Smidmore, who then
lay at his house, to lose no time in departing, but to take advantage of
the breeze then springing up to set sail as soon as might be; and the
stores being all aboard and the crew in readiness, Sir Harry set about
this business at once. When the men stood at the anchor ready to heave
away, Sir Bartlemy and Lady Biddy took an affectionate farewell of Sir
Harry, and bidding him with tears God-speed and a happy return, quitted
the ship. And so about eight o'clock that evening the _Sure Hawk_ (with
her companion, the _Adventurer_), sailed out of Falmouth Haven with me,
Benet Pengilly, in the hold.
When we were fairly out to sea, Rodrigues came down to me with another
fellow bearing a lantern, and bade me come out, and I was not sorry; for
besides that it was extremely stuffy down there, so that there was no
breathing with any comfort, the ship had begun to roll and pitch in such
a manner that I feared every moment nothing less but to be crushed by
some chest or barrel being thrown upon me, though, indeed, there was
naught to fear in that respect, as I learned when I became better
acquainted with the manner of these things. But, indeed, the sea ran
unconscionably high, and the ship labored painfully all that night and
the next day, and after that the next night again was no better, so that
it was surprising to me that we had not foundered. Yet that was the last
thing I feared, for, being miserably ill and as sick as any dog, I do
truly think that had the ship split I should have made no effort to save
myself.
I had been stowed away between decks among some bales of goods packed
securely in the fore part of the vessel, and here I lay, with no comfort
but a stone jar of water, until, waking from a sound sleep, it might be
about noon and were now at sea three days, I perceived that the storm
had greatly abated, and that my stomach was no longer qualmish, but
quickened with a huge hunger--as well it might be after my long fast,
etc. Then, feeling brisker than I had yet felt since we set sail, I sat
up, and a savory smell sharpening my appetite, I got upon my legs, and
so spied half a dozen seamen seated on chests under the light of the
hatchway before a smoking mess of pork and pease. Thither I made my way,
though not without difficulty, the ship still rolling immoderately, and
begged civilly that they would let me eat with them. Whereupon one
shoved the victuals toward me that I might help myself, but not a word,
good or bad, did any of them speak, which was more noticeable because
they had all been laughing and talking till they saw me. Presently a
pipe sounded, and they all went up above; then down comes Rodrigues, and
it was the first time I had seen him since we were at sea. He had on his
sea skirt and large boots all running with water, for it still was
exceedingly foul weather, and his hat tied down about his ears with a
red kerchief. But he was in good spirits, and asked me cheerfully how I
did as he seated himself beside me and helped himself to meat; and
having answered his inquiry, I told him how the seamen scowled at me,
and begged to know if I had done aught to deserve this ill-will.
"Why, yes," says he; "for had it not been to save you from the
catchpoles, we should never have ventured to sea in such a rising gale.
We have had no rest since we left Falmouth, and like at any moment to
have gone to the bottom. For aught we know, our consort is lost, and all
hands with her, not having been seen these two days. And this is a great
loss, besides being a bad beginning to our enterprise, and all is set
down to your charge. However, it is in your power to make them amends
and win their love, and I make no doubt you will."
"With all my heart," says I, "if you do but show me how."
"All in good time," says he, tearing with his pointed teeth the flesh
off a knuckle-bone of pork that he held in his hands; "all in good time.
We can do nothing yet, but I look to you for help by-and-by, else had I
not run all this risk for you. And yet," continues he, after a pause,
flinging the knuckle-bone behind him--"yet it might be well for you to
make friends with the captain at once. He asked to see you this
morning."
"And who is this captain?" I asked, my curiosity awakening.
"Why, Sir Harry Smidmore, to be sure. Did I not tell you?"
"No," says I, moodily.
"Then you might have guessed it."
And this was quite true, if I had been in a humor for guessing.
"I have been trapped and despatched to sea to please Lady Biddy," says
I, savagely.
"Well, you'll bear me no grudge for that. There was no way to save you
but by getting you aboard the ship." Then, glancing round to see we were
alone, he adds, dropping his voice, "And if Sir Harry Smidmore made to
sea with you before you could escape, that he might please his
sweetheart and keep you and her well asunder, 'twas no fault of mine.
Don't you like it, Pengilly?"
I ground my teeth for response.
"Would you be even with him for this trick?" he asked, in the same low
tone, and with a sinister leer.
"Aye, that I would!"
"So would I in your place," says he. "If a man served me that way,
I'd--"
Here he stopped, and taking up a jack-knife, he stuck it in the deal
board that served as a bench, and pressed on it till the blade came out
on the other side, and while he did this his sinewy hand grasped the
board as if it were a throat, and his lips were drawn back close to his
pointed teeth; then he looked sidelong at me, saying never a word, as if
to know how I took this hint.
"I am no murderer," says I, terrified by his manner as much as by his
suggestion.
"Why, who said you were?" says he, with great show of indignation.
"Cannot a man by steady endeavor go through a difficulty as I have gone
through that board with this knife without doing a mischief? What a fool
should I be to counsel you to such an end when our true success depends
upon you being good friends with our captain. Nay," he adds, "if I
thought you would curb your spirit to it, I would beg you to take Sir
Harry's hand, when he offers it to you, and accept his friendship."
"That can I never do."
"So I thought. Howsomever, you must do him no injury or insult at this
present. And, harkye, I know it for a fact that he wants to give into
your hand a sum of money entrusted to him by your uncle for your
particular use, that you might furnish yourself presently with an
equipment worthy of his nephew; and this you must not refuse to take.
Laugh as scornfully as you will, but you must take it, and I will tell
you for why. When we get to a port, you will have to make the crew merry
in return for the hardships they have suffered on your account. You must
win them to your side, for we can do nothing else."
"They shall have every penny I get, and welcome. But tell me what you
mean when you say we can do nothing without having the men on our side?"
"I mean," says he, "that without them you will get neither riches nor
your sweetheart."
"And how, having them, am I to win these ends?"
"Leave that to me. I have promised the achievement, and if you do but
work patiently upon my instructions, I will not fall short of my word.
More than this I can not now tell you, but you shall know more
hereafter. For the present, you can do nothing but win the affection of
the men, and the captain also."
All this was a great mystery to me, and I could nohow fathom to the
bottom of it: this only was clear, that I must follow Rodrigues'
bidding, not only because I was bound to do so in a certain measure by
reason of my oath, but also because it was good policy. So when I had
refreshed myself by sousing my head in a bucket of water, I went above,
and, holding on by the bulwarks, was much amazed with the sight of the
heaving seas, which I had never before seen as now, all around me, and
the way in which the great ship would dive down into the hollow of a
wave as if to perdition, and yet the next moment ride upon the crest of
it as light as any duck.
While I was standing here, one of the seamen came to me, saying that the
captain would speak with me; so I went with him into the roundhouse
under the poop deck where Sir Harry was, and very cheerful and bright
this young man looked in his sea dress. Then, with a noble, easy air, he
begs me to sit down, and, sitting himself, discoursed about the late
storm, telling me how we should certainly have been all lost but for the
admirable skill and exertions of the mate, Rodrigues (and this every one
did allow), and all with perfect self-command and natural civility, as
though we had been the best friends in the world. But he did not offer
me his hand to take, and I was glad of this, for I could not have taken
it without shame, feeling as I still did towards him.
"However," says he, "the work is over, and, please God, the first part
of our voyage will soon be made; then you will be free to do as you
like--either to go back to England or to go on with me. For I have not
the power to hold you a prisoner, nor have I the wish to keep you with
me, except as a friend. That is for you to decide, and I hope, with all
my heart, you will decide to share in this enterprise, and return with
me a richer and a happier man than ever you could have been had you not
sailed with us. And that your choice may be perfectly free, here is a
purse of money that Sir Bartlemy entrusted me with for your use. It will
pay your voyage home, but if you have need of more for your necessities,
I shall be very happy to place my purse at your disposal."
I took the bag of money he offered, thanking him for his civility as
well as my untutored tongue would allow. Then he rose, making me a
graceful bow, and bade the man who waited at the door to take me to my
cabin, which I found very neat and properly furnished, with everything
necessary to my convenience, and two good suits of new clothes, besides
shirts, stockings, etc.
Rodrigues was mightily pleased when he saw me in my new clothes and with
my hair decently combed, and it seemed to me that the seamen eyed me
with more respect than they had yet shown me; indeed, I found that this
decency did elevate me in my own opinion a great deal, so that I thought
better of myself and more hopefully than I had since the beginning of my
misfortunes.
The wind continued very high (but prosperous) for nine days after that,
and then, making the Canaries, we came into water as smooth as the heart
of man could desire, and so cast anchor at Fuerteventura. And here we
were very busy for three days, repairing the mischief done us by the
storm, and all that time we saw nothing of the _Adventurer_, our
consort, which was to have joined us there in case of being separated,
so that we gave her up for lost, and I know not who was more cast down
about this, Sir Harry Smidmore or Rodrigues. However, on the fourth day
the missing ship bore in sight (to our great joy), and by nightfall was
anchored alongside of us, but with one mast gone, and so sorely bruised
that she looked not the same ship she had been. And it was curious to
see how the crew of the _Adventurer_, coming on board the _Sure Hawk_,
the men did hug each other and weep for gladness. Amongst them all the
most joyful were Rodrigues and Ned Parsons, the seaman I have spoken of
as having only one eye, and who was master aboard the _Adventurer_. But
what damped Sir Harry's spirits greatly was this, that his dear friend,
John Murray, who was captain on our consort, had been washed overboard
in the storm, and was no more; and that the men might not see his grief,
he went into his own cabin and shut the door, and I think there was no
sad heart on board but his.
Presently Rodrigues came to my side, and says he:
"Now is the time to win the hearts of these men. I shall get leave from
the captain for them to go ashore; do you give them something to make
merry with."
I agreed to this with all my heart, and fetching the bag of gold from my
cabin which Sir Bartlemy had sent, I bade him distribute every farthing
amongst them; and this he did, giving every man equal share, so that
each got over a pound, for there was the value of a hundred pounds in
the bag, and the two crews numbered four score, as near as may be.
When he had thus made the "dividend," as he called it, Rodrigues told
them that it was I who gave the money out of love for them, and the
hardships they had borne on my account. Whereupon Ned Parsons cried he
would do as much again and a hundred times more for so generous a
gentleman, and bade his comrades give me a cheer, which they did with
all their lungs, and three times. And I thought this Ned Parsons was a
good friend to me, but he was not.