forgotten your way," Monsieur de la Remy cried, as he grasped my
patron's elbows in his two hands in a half embrace. Then he bowed to me
without much effusion. "Good-morning, Monsieur le Marquis," was all he
said.
I had not known that my host of the Gloucester Arms was going to be one
of us, and so expressed my surprise at seeing him. He made no
explanation, but I take it he must have been in London for some time,
and that he had come direct from there, although I had not met him at
any of the routs or parties I had attended.
"Why should I forget my way, monsieur?" my patron said, laughing, as he
paused on the door-step. "Have I not travelled it every month for three
years?"
As we entered the house the Marquis de Senez was standing at the door,
and greeted us in his usual reserved way. We were in a large room, and I
noticed the smell of the same kind of tobacco that the sailors use on
shipboard in the English service--a smell that seems to cling to them
and to all of their belongings--but apparently none of the gentlemen had
been smoking.
"Everything is most propitious," said De Senez, as he brought forward
two chairs from the table. "Dame Fortune smiles on us. But pardon me;
you have not noticed Monsieur de Rembolez."
It was then that I saw for the first time that there was a figure
sitting back in the dark shadows in the corner of the room. I recognized
the name, and as soon as the man stepped forward into the light of the
single candle, I remembered his face, and that I had seen it in London.
He was a sharp-featured, thick-set man--that is, big as to his chest and
shoulders, but very light and muscular in his underpinning. His eyes
were so black that they appeared all pupils, and his teeth were so large
and even that I believe that he could have bitten a tenpenny nail in two
with them, as his jaw also looked strong as a vise. I did not like the
man, and as I had good cause to remember afterwards, he on his part had
conceived no great affection for me.
At the mention of my name he merely glanced up and showed his teeth, at
which I was tempted to show mine in return, for the meaning of that
display was rather ambiguous. He was to be the fifth one of the party,
and I am quite sure he was not of Monsieur de Brissac's choosing.
"It's a good night for the crossing," observed Monsieur de Senez. "Did
you see the lookout on the cliff as you came down?"
"I doubt not he saw us," retained my patron. "But he probably kept well
hidden. Is everything ready? Is Captain St. Croix here?"
"Yes, and most of his crew within calling distance," returned the
steel-jawed man, casting a look over his shoulder.
I saw no door, or anything that would suggest that there was an
adjoining room, for the one we were in occupied the whole ground-floor
of the house; but behind De Rembolez was a tall oak cupboard that
reached almost to the ceiling. There had come a lull in our
conversation; De Senez and the host of the Gloucester Arms were talking
in whispers, and Monsieur de Brissac was engaged in pulling off his
heavy riding-boots. All at once the low grumbling of men's voices in
talk was heard, and then an oath in good seafaring English issued
apparently from the tall cupboard. I fairly jumped as the door of it was
opened outward and a great, black-whiskered man stepped out of it. Then
I saw where the smell of tobacco came from, for the smoke rolled out
with him, and the ember in his long clay pipe was glowing.
[Illustration: ASTONISHED, I LOOKED PAST HIM, AND SAW THAT THE CUPBOARD
CONCEALED A GOOD-SIZED TRAP-DOOR.]
Astonished, I looked past him, and saw that the cupboard concealed a
good-sized trap-door; it was open, the top of a ladder extended through
the floor, and the sound of voices came from below. It was a most
ingenious idea. The cellar to which this passageway led was not under
the house, but under the garden at the back of it. The floor of the room
in which we were was made of hard, dry earth, and digging there would
have revealed nothing.
I found out, by questioning afterwards on the voyage over, that the two
other houses which abutted on the innocent-looking garden also had
passageways that led to the cleverly concealed smugglers' cabin.
The bewhiskered man was addressed by the company as Captain St. Croix,
but I would bet a new anchor to a ship's biscuit that he was more
English than French, although his accent was fairly good.
"It looks the night for our purpose, gentlemen," he said. "We have
brewed a punch below. What say you I send for some of it, and we will
pledge a successful passage to the _Hirondelle_, eh?"
"And destruction to the Corsican upstart," put in he of the beady eyes.
The Captain gave a halloo down the shaft and ordered some one to bring
up the punch-bowl. At the same time he set about getting us something to
eat from a rough side-board near the fireplace.
Just as a man's head appeared coming up the ladder there were three
sharp knocks on the door, and a tall fisher-lad in a dripping great-coat
came in.
"It's thick and raining," he said. "I've seen the lights of the old
boat. She'll be off the point in a few minutes."
"Then we must bear a hand," said the Captain. "So, gentlemen, let us eat
and drink and dispense with ceremony."
I was very hungry, and fell to at once, as did the others. In half an
hour we left the shelter of the house, and hurrying down to the dock, we
were all crowded into one of the row-boats. Then pulling away, we headed
against the driving rain through the half-darkness.
As it was wet when we reached the _Hirondelle_, I followed the four
other gentlemen down into the little cabin, although my love of the sea
was returning so strongly that I was tempted to stay on deck and court a
soaking.
The little box of a place in which we were sitting was dimly lighted
with a swinging lamp, and as we conversed of the plot and object of our
trip (of which I shall say nothing), I could tell that we were
travelling at a good rate of speed by the rushing and lapping of the
water against the bull. The reason I do not give any full account of the
plot in which I was supposed to be engaged is that I think even now I
should keep it silent, as it concerns neither me nor my story.
After a time we all fell asleep, most of us in a sitting posture, and I
was the first to awaken. It was between three and four, and still
raining, when I came out of the close musty cabin and breathed the fine
air. I noticed we had shortened sail, and that a man in the bow was
heaving the lead. He did not call out the soundings, but signalled them
to the Captain by motions of his hand. I knew we must be in shoal water,
but in how many fathoms I could not tell. All at once the man at the
wheel threw the lugger up into the wind, and we lay hove to for probably
half an hour. Every one on deck was listening.
Suddenly the dark shape of a great row-boat could be seen approaching,
and going below into the cabin I aroused the rest of the passengers; De
Rembolez appeared rather nervous.
Where the lugger put off her cargo I do not know, for as soon as the
five of us had clambered over her side into the row-boat, and Monsieur
De Senez had given a handful of gold to the Captain, the latter stood
off presumably to the southward, while we rowed directly to the east.
Not a word had been spoken by the rowers or the man at the tiller, and I
was so interested in wondering what next was going to happen that I was
perfectly satisfied to curb my curiosity and ask no questions. I was not
anxious to anticipate, and felt really sad to think that I was soon to
leave M. De Brissac--for what, I knew not.
We were off the coast between Dunkerque and Gravelines, and I should
judge that the boat had rowed out some seven or eight miles. The men at
the oars looked part Dutch and part French. They were a
villanous-looking set, however, and the fellow at the tiller appeared
little above them in order of intelligence; but while we were pulling
straight ahead, the cockswain suddenly stood up straight in his box.
"Arrêtez!" he whispered, hoarsely.
The men backed-water skilfully, but yet such headway did the boat have
on that it required three or four efforts before we came to a stop.
There right ahead of us lay a long white, lapstreak boat, sharp at both
ends. She had pulled directly athwart our bows. Had we been keeping a
sharp lookout we would have seen her long before, as her crew must have
had us in sight for some minutes. One glance at them told me that these
men were not Frenchmen. De Rembolez had stood up almost as soon as the
cockswain, and was looking forward eagerly, but I saw his face change to
a puzzled expression.
"Les Anglais!" exclaimed the cockswain between his teeth.
A few strokes of the long oars that the men in the stranger craft
wielded, and she was almost alongside of us.
"Un pilote," said a voice with an execrable accent and a drawling twang
through the nose. "We want a pilot. Avez-vous un pilote?"
"We have no pilot for you!" answered Monsieur de la Remy, in good
English. "Keep away from us."
But what was I doing at this very moment?
It was with difficulty that I was restraining an inclination to plunge
overboard and strike out for the whale-boat.
It is almost past believing, but unless my eyes were playing me false,
there stood my old friend Cy Plummer of the _Minetta_, balancing a
boat-hook in his hand. This aside, it would have required but a close
glance at the wiry, strong-knit figures and the keen sharp-featured
faces, for one who knew, to declare that they were no English press-gang
bullies, but Yankee sailor-men.
I was trying to find my voice, which had left me in my astonishment, but
the nobleman landlord did not notice my condition, and was still
continuing his warning.
"Come no closer," he said. "At your peril. We have no pilot for you."
At the same time he drew from the breast of his coat a small
double-barrelled pistol.
"Who are you and where do you come from?" put in De Rembolez.
There was evidently some consternation in the white boat at hearing the
sound of English. The men were leaning forward preparing to take a
stroke, and Plummer was evidently perplexed and at a loss what to do,
when I found my tongue.
"Plummer! Cy Plummer! get me out of this," I cried.
We were so near by this time that our oars were almost touching, but the
astonishment occasioned on both sides by my sudden outbreak seemed to
paralyze all hands.
"Who in the name of Davy Jones are you?" Plummer questioned, quickly.
"John Hurdiss of the _Young Eagle_," I cried, throwing off my cloak.
Just as I was about to dive overboard I felt myself grasped about the
arm.
It was De Rembolez who had laid hold of me. The words he hissed I did
not catch, but in order to loose myself I drew back my free hand and
caught him a blow fairly between the eyes. He did not relax his hold,
however, and endeavored to throw me into the bottom of the boat.
Although he was a powerful man, he probably did not know much about
wrestling. I had the firmer footing, and twisting him round, I turned
the tables, and was forcing him away from me, when he sank his great
white teeth into the sleeve of my coat. Had he caught my flesh I might
have lost the use of my arm, but as it was he laid hold of the cloth
only, and the sleeve parted at the shoulder; but the little French
cockswain now decided to take a hand, and sprang upon me from behind,
but the result was to my helping. I just remembered hearing the sharp
snapping of Monsieur de la Remy's pistol, which missed fire, when I went
overboard over the gunwale, and with me fell Beady Eyes and the little
cockswain. I came up between the two boats. In the mean time both the
crews were laying about with their oars over my head, and there was a
lusty scrimmage going on. As soon as he felt the water closing over him,
De Rembolez released his hold, but the little 'longshoreman in the
striped shirt still held on, and before I knew it some one grabbed me
and him also, and pulled us both over into the long white boat. Somehow
the combatants had drifted apart, and with a quickness that was
surprising the Yankees had got out their oars and were giving way.
I scrambled to my feet, and looking over the stern I saw that the other
boat was after us, but they never could have caught us had they been
pulling two men on a thwart. In five minutes they turned about and made
off in the opposite direction.
"Douse my top-lights!" exclaimed Plummer, leaning forward and smearing
the blood away from a slight wound on the side of his face. "Where, in
the name of goodness, did you come from, lad?"
"From an English prison, in the first place," I said; "but it's a long
story. Oh, but I will be glad to see our colors again!"
The French cockswain here interrupted any more questions or explanations
by an effort to jump overboard.
"Lay hold of him," cried Plummer to the men in the bow. "Hold the
frog-eater!" and in a minute they had pinioned the little Frenchman
down. "Pull, larboard; hold, star-board!" Plummer cried all at once,
jamming the helm down, and I, following the glance of his eye, saw the
outlines of a vessel not five hundred yards away.
"What ship is that?" I asked.
"The _Yankee_, privateer," my friend replied. "The luckiest vessel ever
launched--that's honest truth. Oh, we've some yarns to spin, my son, and
so must you, and, ecod! we'll have a time of it. I can scarce believe
that it is you at all, lad. But it's just the sort of a thing I might
expect would happen on a cruise like the one we've had since leaving
Buzzard's Bay."
"Well, I have had some adventures myself, Plummer," I said. "And in the
very first place, I owe you a debt of gratitude for the loan of the
clothes and cap, my man."
Now upon my soul I did not mean to be condescending in my speech, but
there must have been something in my tone that caused the honest seaman
to make a change in his.
"I hope they brought you luck, sir," he said.
I noticed that he had said "sir" involuntarily.
"Indeed they did," I returned. "I'll have to tell you all about it."
But now the bowmen were getting in their oars, and we were close
alongside of a small topsail schooner, as fine a bit of ship-building as
one would wish to see. She was hove to, and the great mainsail was
crackling, and the reef-points keeping up a continuous drumming against
it; and the sound was good to my ears.
"What have we here?" called a voice over the rail, only a few feet above
our heads.
"A pilot and a passenger," answered Plummer, fending the whale-boat off
from the side of the schooner with his hands.
A short rope was thrown over to us, and, laying hold of it, I clambered
over the bulwarks, and came down on deck, where I found myself face to
face with one of the strangest-looking figures that I have met in the
course of my adventures.
Before me stood a slight stoop-shouldered man, dressed in a blue
broadcloth coat and a long yellow satin waist-coat. He had on a pair of
tight-fitting buckskin breeches thrust into heavy sea-boots. The
expression on his face was the remarkable thing about him. At first I
thought that he was laughing at me, for his light blue eyes had such an
eager twinkling light in them that they appeared to show amusement. His
mouth was parted in a smile, and a continual lifting and lowering of his
eyebrows lent the idea that he considered me or my appearance some huge
joke.
"Is this the passenger or the pilot?" he asked, lifting a heavy cocked
hat, and giving it a little flourish, as it were, over his head.
"Neither passenger nor pilot," I replied, "but an escaped prisoner from
England, who is anxious to get a chance to fight for America again. I
was captured from the _Young Eagle_, privateer."
The man's voice had surprised me. It was as fresh and young as a boy's.
When I mentioned the _Young Eagle_ he made a grimace as if he were about
to whistle, but he changed it to a little rippling laugh.
"Oh, ho! Temple of Stonington, eh! Such a reckless, careless devil. I
know him. Good sailor, though. So you would ship with us?"
"Yes, sir," I answered. "And try to do my duty."
"Oh, we can use you, never fear," the strange man chuckled. "And now
where are we?"
"Eh?" I ejaculated.
"What's our latitude and longitude?" he inquired.
This was a puzzler for me, for I hardly knew one from the other, and
could not have answered.
"Do you mean to say that you don't know that?" I asked, trying to fend
off answering.
"I haven't the slightest idea where I am," he answered. "I don't know
whether I'm in the English Channel, the North Sea, or the Bay of
Biscay."
This was told to me as if it were another huge joke, but I thought it
was a strange condition for the Captain of a vessel to be in.
"We're off the coast of France," I said, "not far from Dunkerque."
"Dunkerque?" repeated the Captain. "Ho, ho! that's fortunate."
At this moment Plummer, with two or three of the crew of the whale-boat,
which was being hoisted in, came aft. They had the little Frenchman, who
looked half frightened to death, with them.
"Here's the pilot, Captain Gorham," Plummer said, touching his cap.
The Captain's reply to this, and the effect of it, almost took my breath
away.
"Ah, Pierre," he said, "c'est donc vous? How is Madame Burron, and the
little ones?"
The little Frenchman drew back, and then fell at the Captain's feet,
grasping his hand.
"Ah, Capitaine Rieur, bonne fortune!" he cried, and he mumbled something
I could not catch.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
[Illustration: AN IMPROMPTU HOSPITAL FOR EUROPEANS.]
CAPTAIN LEARY'S SAMOAN EXPERIENCE.
SOME STIRRING INCIDENTS IN RECENT AMERICAN NAVAL HISTORY.
BY FRANKLIN MATTHEWS.
On October 23, 1888, there occurred an incident in Apia Harbor, Samoa,
which sorely tried the patience of Commander Leary, in charge of the
United States war-vessel _Adams_, and which soon led directly to other
incidents that nearly caused a war between this country and Germany. The
representatives of the foreign governments had met a few days before,
and had decided that a "neutral zone" should be established in and about
Apia. A party of unarmed natives were crossing the harbor in one of
their canoes, singing one of their stirring native songs. The Samoans
have beautiful voices, and the lusty melody of their song was rolling
across the water. They had just dug up an old and practically worthless
cannon which the Tamasese party in the civil war had thrown overboard.
[Illustration: A NATIVE WAR CANOE.]
Suddenly two volleys of rifle-shots and several stray shots were fired
from the German war-ship _Adler_ on the canoe.
Fortunately none of the party was killed, but the boat was sunk, and the
natives had to swim to the shore to save their lives. Some of the shots
entered houses of foreigners on shore. Leary's blood boiled with anger
that such an occurrence should happen within the neutral zone, that the
war-ship of any nation should fire on a body of unarmed men, and that
Germany should openly take the side of the Tamasese faction in the
presence of another nation's war-ship. He at once sent a vigorous letter
to the Captain of the _Adler_, in which he said:
"I have the honor to inform you that the hostile attack made last
night in this harbor by an armed force under your command upon a
boat manned by natives, who were harmlessly crossing the harbor,
was an act that seriously endangered the lives of the Americans and
others, afloat and ashore, in the vicinity of Matautu, and cannot
but be regarded otherwise than a most serious affair, coming so
soon after arranging and accepting terms establishing neutral
ground within the limits of which no hostilities should occur, with
a view to securing safety to the foreign residents in and around
Apia.
"I am unable to understand your action, as the alleged causes of
the attack cannot be accepted as justifying such dangerous and
careless conduct. I shall report the affair to my government as a
gross violation of the principles of international law, and as a
breach of neutrality.
"For the security of Americans and others within the neutral lines
I protest against the apparently unwarranted attack made by your
men last night, and also against a recurrence of any hostile action
within the harbor, whereby the lives of foreigners and
non-combatants would be jeopardized."
Leary did as he said he would do, and the records of the Navy Department
show that in his report to the Secretary of the Navy he characterized
this conduct by the Germans as a "most dastardly disregard for the
safety of human life, as well as a cowardly breach of faith and
neutrality." In this connection it may be said that in some cases the
language of Leary's reports was softened when they were transmitted to
Congress. A close examination of the written and printed reports shows
many adjectives and phrases omitted. One can imagine what was omitted.
[Illustration: THE VAISIGNANO BRIDGE.]
A few days before the natives were fired upon by the _Adler_'s men
another incident had occurred which showed the spirit that animated
Leary. The Vaisignano bridge that connected the town of Apia with a
suburb where most of the foreigners lived had been partly wrecked by a
storm. Under the inspiration of the German authorities advertisements
had been called for the removal of the bridge. This would have cut the
foreigners off from the town, and have seriously crippled the work in
the offices of the various consuls. It was proposed to establish a ferry
instead of repairing the bridge. Leary saw the notice calling for the
removal of the bridge posted on a tree near the bridge, and without
hesitation tore it down, and sent word to the authorities that that
bridge must not be removed. He then declared that he would repair the
bridge, and protect it, if necessary, while this was being done with an
armed force. Early the next day he lowered some boats from the _Adams_,
and filled them with his sailors and marines fully armed. Then he sent
his carpenters ashore, and they started to repair the bridge. The
commander of the English war-ship in the harbor saw what was going on,
and he also sent carpenters to assist in the work, and that bridge was
never disturbed after that. The English and American residents on the
island afterward co-operated in providing a suitable hospital for the
wounded in the Samoan fights, and in caring for them.
By this time there was a state of almost open hostility between the
German and American war-ships. The great crisis came on November 15,
1888. About seven miles from Apia the forts of the Tamasese party and
the Mataafa party faced each other on property that was clearly under
American protection. The Mataafa party had received notice from the
Germans to vacate the place or take the consequences. Mataafa hastily
sent a runner to Captain Leary and informed him of the situation. He
asked for advice. Leary sent word that he had a right to remain where he
was, giving him some simple information in international law. Leary also
said that he would not permit the German war-ship to fire on property
under his protection.
Leary received his information about dusk on November 14. The _Adler_
was to start out the next morning just before daybreak. Leary at once
sent word to all of his officers who were ashore to report on board the
ship by midnight, and to ask no questions. He knew that the Germans
expected to steal a march on him, and were watching him to see if he had
steam up. Had they seen smoke coming out of the smoke-pipes of the
_Adams_ they would have probably postponed the proposed attack until
some time when they might catch Leary napping. He was ready for them. He
had some anthracite coal on board. He transferred some live coals from
his galley fire to the furnace under one boiler of the ship, and by
using hard coal had a fire started there without attracting the
attention of the Germans. It was slow work. When the fire was going well
under the first boiler, he transferred live coals to another boiler, and
then to another, and soon after midnight had full steam up on board the
ship. The Germans, who always kept steam up, had not the slightest
inkling of Leary's action.