SUSPICIONS ALLAYED AND REAWAKENED.
Gascoyne, followed by his man Jo Bumpus, sped over the rugged mountains,
and descended the slopes on the opposite side of the island soon after
nightfall, and long before Captain Montague, in his large and
well-manned boat, could pull half way round in the direction of the
sequestered bay where the Foam lay quietly at anchor.
There was not a breath of wind to ruffle the surface of the glassy sea,
as the captain of the sandal-wood trader reached the shore and uttered a
low cry like the hoot of an owl. The cry was instantly replied to, and
in a few minutes a boat crept noiselessly towards the shore, seeming, in
the uncertain light, more like a shadow than a reality. It was rowed by
a single man. When within a few yards of the shore, the oars ceased to
move, and the deep stillness of the night was scarcely broken by the low
voice of surly Dick, demanding, "Who goes there?"
"All right, pull in," replied Gascoyne, whose deep bass voice sounded
sepulchral in the almost unearthly stillness. It was one of those dark,
oppressively quiet nights which make one feel a powerful sensation of
loneliness, and a peculiar disinclination, by word or act, to disturb
the prevailing quiescence of nature,--such a night as suggests the idea
of a coming storm to those who are at sea, or of impending evil to those
on land.
"Is the mate aboard?" inquired Gascoyne.
"He is, sir."
"Are any of the hands on shore?"
"More than half of 'em, sir."
Nothing more was said; and in a few minutes Gascoyne was slowly pacing
the quarter-deck of his little vessel in earnest consultation with his
first mate. There seemed to be some difference of opinion between the
captain and his officer; for their words, which, at first were low, at
length became audible.
"I tell you, Manton, it won't do," said Gascoyne, sternly.
"I can only suggest what I believe to be for the good of the ship,"
replied the other, coldly.
"Even if you succeed in your attempt, you will be certain to lose some
of our hands; for although the best of them are on, shore, the commander
of the Talisman will think those that remain too numerous for a
sandal-wood trader, and you are aware that we are sufficiently
short-handed in such dangerous seas."
The latter part of this speech was uttered in a slightly sarcastic tone.
"What would you have me do, then?" demanded Gascoyne, whose usual
decision of character seemed to have deserted him under the influence of
conflicting feelings, which the first mate could plainly perceive
agitated the breast of his commander, but which he could by no means
account for. Certainly he had no sympathy with them, for Manton's was a
hard, stern nature--not given to the melting mood.
"Do?" exclaimed the mate, vehemently, "I would mount the red, and get
out the sweeps. An hour's pull will place the schooner on the other
side of the reef. A shot from Long Tom will sink the best boat in the
service of his Britannic Majesty, and we could be off and away with the
land breeze before morning."
"What! sink a man-of-war's boats!" exclaimed Gascoyne; "why, that would
make them set us down as pirates at once, and we should have to run the
gauntlet of half the British navy before this time next year."
Manton received this remark with a loud laugh, which harshly disturbed
the silence of the night.
"That is true," said he; "yet I scarcely expected to see Captain
Gascoyne show the white feather."
"Possibly not," retorted the other, grimly; "yet methinks that he who
counsels flight shows more of the white feather than he who would shove
his head into the very jaws of the lion. It won't do, Manton; I have my
own reasons for remaining here. The white lady must in the meantime
smile on the British commander. Besides, it would be difficult, if not
impossible, to do all this and get our fellows on board again before
morning. The land breeze will serve to fill the sails of the Talisman
just as well as those of the Foam; and they're sure to trip their anchor
to-night; for, you'll scarcely believe it, this mad little fellow
Montague actually suspects me to be the pirate Durward!"
Again the harsh laugh of Manton disturbed the peaceful calm, and this
time he was joined by Gascoyne, who seemed at length to have overcome
the objections of his mate; for their tones again sank into inaudible
whispers.
Shortly after this conversation the moon broke out from behind a bank
of clouds, and shone brightly down on land and sea, throwing into bold
relief the precipices, pinnacles, and gorges of the one, and covering
the other with rippling streaks of silver. About the same time the oars
of the man-of-war's boat were heard, and in less than half an hour
Captain Montague ascended the side of the Foam, where, to his great
surprise, he was politely received by Gascoyne.
"Captain Gascoyne has reason to be proud of his pedestrian powers," said
the young commander; "he must have had urgent reason, for making such
good use of his legs since we last met."
"To do the honors of his own ship, when he expects a visit from a
British officer, is surely sufficient reason to induce a poor skipper to
take an extra walk of a fine evening," replied Gascoyne, blandly.
"Besides, I know that men-of-war are apt to take a fancy to the crews of
merchantmen sometimes, and I thought my presence might be necessary here
to-night."
"How?" exclaimed Montague, quickly. "Do you fancy that your single arm,
stout though it be, could avail to prevent this evil that you dread if I
think proper to act according to established usage in time of war?"
"Nay, that were extreme vanity indeed," returned the other; "but I would
fain hope that the explanations which I can give of the danger of our
peculiar trade, and the necessity we have for a strong crew, will induce
Captain Montague to forego his undoubted privilege and right on this
occasion."
"I'm not so sure of that," replied Montague; "it will depend much on
your explanations being satisfactory. How many men have you?"
"Twenty-two."
"So many! That is much more than enough to work so small a vessel."
"But not more than enough to defend my vessel from a swarm of bloody
savages."
"Perhaps not," returned Montague, on whom the urbanity and candor of the
captain of the Foam were beginning to have a softening influence. "You
have no objection to let me see your papers, and examine your ship, I
suppose."
"None in the world," replied Gascoyne, smiling; "and if I had, it would
make little difference, I should imagine, to one who is so well able to
insist on having his will obeyed." (He glanced at the boat full of armed
men as he spoke.) "Pray, come below with me."
In the examination that ensued, Captain Montague was exceedingly strict,
although the strength of his first suspicions had been somewhat abated
by the truthful tone and aspect of Gascoyne, and the apparent
reasonableness of all he said; but he failed to detect anything in the
papers, or in the general arrangements of the Foam, that could warrant
his treating her otherwise than as an honest trader.
"So," said he, on returning to the deck; "this is the counterpart of the
noted pirate, is it? You must pardon my having suspected you, sir, of
being this same Durward, sailing under false colors. Come, let me see
the points of difference between you, else if we happen to meet on the
high seas I may chance to make an unfortunate hole in your timbers."
"The sides of my schooner are altogether black, as you see," returned
Gascoyne. "I have already explained that a narrow streak of red
distinguishes the pirate; and this fair lady" (leading Montague to the
bow) "guides the Foam over the waves with smiling countenance, while a
scarlet griffin is the more appropriate figurehead of Durward's vessel."
As he spoke, the low boom of a far distant gun was heard. Montague
started, and glanced inquiringly in the face of his companion, whose
looks expressed a slight degree of surprise.
"What was that, think you?" said Montague, after a momentary pause.
"The commander of the Talisman ought, I think, to be the best judge of
the sound of his own guns."
"True," returned the young officer, somewhat disconcerted; "but you
forget that I am not familiar with the eruptions of those volcanic
mountains of yours; and, at so great a distance from my ship, with such
hills of rock and lava between us, I may well be excused feeling a
little doubt as to the bark of my own bull-dogs. But that signal
betokens something unusual. I must shorten my visit to you, I fear."
"Pray do not mention it," said Gascoyne, with a peculiar smile; "under
the circumstances I am bound to excuse you."
"But," continued Montague, with emphasis, "I should be sorry indeed to
part without some memorial of my visit. Be so good as to order your men
to come aft."
"By all means," said Gascoyne, giving the requisite order promptly; for,
having sent all his best men on shore, he did not much mind the loss of
a few of those remaining.
When they were mustered, the British commander inspected them carefully,
and then he singled out surly Dick, and ordered him into the boat. A
slight frown rested for a moment on Gascoyne's countenance, as he
observed the look of ill-concealed triumph with which the man obeyed
the order. The expression of surly Dick, however, was instantly
exchanged for one of dismay as his captain strode up to him, and looked
in his face for one moment with a piercing glance, at the same time
thrusting his left hand into the breast of his red shirt.
"Good-by," he said, suddenly, in a cheerful tone, extending his right
hand and grasping that of the sailor. "Good-by, lad: if you serve the
king as well as you have served me, he'll have reason to be proud of
you."
Gascoyne turned on his heel, and the man slunk into the boat with an
aspect very unlike that of a bold British seaman.
"Here is another man I want," said Montague, laying his hand on the
shoulder of John Bumpus.
"I trust, sir, that you will not take that man," said Gascoyne,
earnestly. "I cannot afford to lose him; I would rather you should take
any three of the others."
"Your liberality leads me to think that you could without much
difficulty supply the place of the men I take: but three are too many. I
shall be satisfied with this one. Go into the boat, my lad."
Poor John Bumpus, whose heart had been captivated by the beauties of the
island, obeyed the order with a rueful countenance; and Gascoyne bit his
lip and turned aside to conceal his anger. In two minutes more the boat
was rowed away from the schooner's side.
Not a word was spoken by any one in the boat until a mile had separated
it from the schooner. They had just turned a point which shut the vessel
out of view, when surly Dick suddenly recovered his self-possession and
his tongue, and, starting up in an excited manner, exclaimed to
Montague: "The schooner you have just left, sir, is a pirate. I tell the
truth, though I should swing for it."
The crew of the boat ceased rowing, and glanced at each other in
surprise on hearing this.
"Ha! say you so?" exclaimed Montague, quickly.
"It's a fact, sir. Ask my comrade there, and he'll tell you the same
thing."
"He'll do nothin' o' the sort," sharply returned honest Bumpus, who,
having been only a short time previously engaged by Gascoyne, could
perceive neither pleasure nor justice in the idea of being hanged for a
pirate, and who attributed Dick's speech to an ill-natured desire to get
his late commander into trouble.
"Which of you am I to believe?" said Montague, hastily.
"W'ichever you please," observed Bumpus, with an air of indifference.
"It's no business o' mine," said Dick, sulkily; "if you choose to let
the blackguard escape, that's your own lookout."
"Silence, you scoundrel!" cried Montague, who was as much nettled by a
feeling of uncertainty how to act as by the impertinence of the man.
Before he could decide as to the course he ought to pursue, the report
of one of the guns of his own vessel boomed loud and distinct in the
distance. It was almost immediately followed by another.
"Ha! that settles the question; give way, my lads, give way."
In another moment the boat was cleaving her way swiftly through the dark
water in the direction of the Talisman.