AFTER THE BATTLE IN THE FELUCCA.
We left the second master of the Tritonia and
the two runaway seamen in a rather critical
situation on board of the felucca. We regret the
necessity of jumping about all over Spain to keep the
run of our characters; but we are obliged to conform
to the arrangement of the principal,—who was absolute
in his sway,—and follow the young gentlemen
wherever he sends them. Though Mr. Lowington was
informed, before his departure with the ship’s company
of the Prince, of the escape of Raimundo and the two
“marines,” he was content to leave the steps for the recovery
of the runaways to the good judgment of the
vice–principal in charge of the Tritonia.
Raimundo had managed his case so well that the
departure of the three students from the vessel was not
discovered by any one on board or on shore. If the
_alguacil_ was on the lookout for his prisoner, he had
failed to find him, or to obtain any information in regard
to him. The circumstances had certainly favored
the escape in the highest degree. The distance across
the harbor, the concealment afforded by the hulls of
the vessels of the fleet, and the shadow of the sea–wall
under which the fugitives had placed themselves, had
prevented them from being seen. Indeed, no one
could have seen them, except from the deck of the
Tritonia or the Josephine; and probably those on
board of the latter were below, as they were on the
former.
Of course Mr. Salter, the chief steward of the Tritonia,
was very much astonished when he found that
the prisoners had escaped from the brig. Doubtless he
made as much of an excitement as was possible with
only one of his assistants to help him. He had no
boat; and he was unable to find one from the shore
till the felucca was well out of the harbor. Probably
Hugo was as zealous as the occasion required in the
investigation of the means by which the fugitives had
escaped; but he was as much astonished as his chief
when told that Bill Stout and Bark Lingall were gone.
The brig was in its usual condition, with the door
locked; but the unfastened scuttle soon disclosed the
mode of egress selected by the rogues. Mr. Pelham,
assisted by Mr. Fluxion, vice–principal of the Josephine,
did all they could to find the two “marines,”
without any success whatever; but they had no suspicion
that the second master, who had disappeared the
night before, was one of the party.
The next morning all hands from the two consorts
were sent on board of the American Prince. Mr.
Fluxion was the senior vice–principal, and had the command
of the vessel. The ship’s company of the Josephine
formed the starboard, and that of the Tritonia
the port watch. The officers took rank in each grade
according to seniority. Mr. Fluxion was unwilling to
sail until he had drilled this miscellaneous ship’s company
in their new duties. He had a superabundance
of officers, and it was necessary for them to know their
places. In the morning he had telegraphed to the
principal at Saragossa, in regard to the fugitives; and
the order came back for him to sail without them. Mr.
Lowington was not disposed to waste much of his time
in looking for runaways: they were pretty sure to come
back without much assistance. At noon the Prince
sailed for Lisbon; and all on board of her were
delighted with the novelty of the new situation. As it
is not necessary to follow the steamer, which safely
arrived at Lisbon on the following Sunday morning, we
will return to Raimundo and his companions.
Filipe, struggling, and swearing the heaviest oaths,
was bound hand and foot in the bottom of the felucca,
and lashed to the heel of the mainmast. Juan lay
insensible in the space between the cuddy and the
mainmast, where he had fallen when the young Spaniard
hit him with the spare tiller. The boat had
broached to when the helm was abandoned by the
boatman’s son, to go to the assistance of his father.
Of course Raimundo and Bark were very much excited
by this sudden encounter; and it had required the
united strength of both of them to overcome the boatman,
though he was not a large man. Bill Stout had
done nothing. He had not the pluck to help secure
Filipe after he had been thrown down, or rather
dragged down, by Bark.
As soon as the victory was accomplished, Raimundo
sprang to the helm, and brought the felucca up to her
course again. His chest heaved, and his breathing was
so violent as to be audible. Bark was in no better
condition; and, if Juan had come to his senses at that
moment, he might have conquered both of them.
“Pick up that knife, Lingall,” said Raimundo, as
soon as he was able to speak.
He pointed to the knife which the boatman had
dropped during the struggle; and Bark picked it up.
“Now throw it overboard,” added the second master.
“We can handle these men, I think, if there are
no knives in the case.”
“No; don’t do that!” interposed Bill Stout. “Give
it to me.”
“Give it to you, you coward!” replied Raimundo.
“What do you want of it?”
“I will use it if we get into another fight. I don’t
like to tackle a man with a knife in his hand, when I
have no weapon of any kind,” answered Bill, who,
when the danger was over, began to assume his usual
bullying tone and manner.
“Over with it, Lingall!” repeated Raimundo sharply.
“You are good for nothing, Stout: you had not pluck
enough to touch the man after your friend had him
down.”
Bark waited for no more, but tossed the knife into
the sea. He never “took any stock” in Bill Stout’s
bluster; but he had not suspected that the fellow
was such an arrant coward. As compared with Raimundo,
who had risen vastly in his estimation within
the last few hours, he thoroughly despised his fellow–conspirator.
If he did not believe it before, he was
satisfied now, that the gentlest and most correct students
could also be the best fellows. However it had
been before, Bill no longer had any influence over him;
while he was ready to obey the slightest wish of the
second master, whom he had hated only the day before.
“See if you can find the other knife,—the one the
young man had,” continued Raimundo.
“I see it,” replied Bark; and he picked up the ugly
weapon.
“Send it after the other. The less knives we have
on board, the better off we shall be,” added the second
master. “I don’t like the habit of my countrymen in
carrying the _cuchilla_ any better than I do that of yours
in the use of revolvers.”
“I think it was stupid to throw away those knives,
when you have to fight such fellows as these,” said
Bill Stout, as he glanced at the prostrate form of the
older boatman, who was writhing to break away from
his bonds.
“Your opinion on that subject is of no value just
now,” added Raimundo contemptuously.
“What do you say, Bark?” continued Bill, appealing
to his confederate.
“I agree with Raimundo,” answered Bark. “I
don’t want to be mixed up in any fight where knives
are used.”
“And I object just as much to knifing a man as I
do to being knifed,” said Raimundo. “Though I am
a Spaniard, I don’t think I would use a knife to save
my own life.”
“I would,” blustered Bill.
“No, you wouldn’t: you haven’t pluck enough to do
any thing,” retorted Bark. “I advise you not to say
any thing more on this subject, Stout.”
At this moment Filipe made a desperate attempt to
free himself; and Bill retreated to the forecastle, evidently
determined not to be in the way if another
battle took place. Bark picked up the spare tiller the
second master had dropped, and prepared to defend
himself. Another club was found, and each of those
who had the pluck to use was well prepared for
another attack.
“Lie still, or I will hit you over the head!” said
Bark to the struggling skipper, as he flourished the
tiller over him.
But the ropes with which he was secured were strong
and well knotted. Bark was a good sailor, and he had
done this part of the work. He looked over the fastenings,
and made sure that they were all right.
“He can’t get loose, Mr. Raimundo,” said he.
“But Juan is beginning to come to his senses,”
added the second master. “He has just turned half
over.”
“I hope he is not much hurt: we may get into a
scrape if he is.”
“I was just thinking of that. But I don’t believe
he is very badly damaged,” added Raimundo. “If
the old man can’t get away, suppose you look him
over, and see what his condition is.”
Bark complied with this request. Filipe seemed to
be interested in this inquiry; and he lay quite still
while the examination was in progress. The young
sailor found a wound and a considerable swelling on
the side of Juan’s head; but it was now so dark that
he could not distinctly see the nature of the injury.
“Have you a match, Mr. Raimundo?” he asked.
“I have not. We were not allowed to have matches
on board the Tritonia,” replied the second master.
“_Tengo pajuelas_,” said Filipe. “_Una linterna en el
camarote de proa._”
“What does he say?” inquired Bark, glad to find
that the skipper was no longer pugnacious.
“He says he has matches, and that there is a lantern
in the cuddy,” replied Raimundo. “Here, Stout, look
in the cuddy, and see if you can find a lantern
there.”
Bill had the grace to obey the order, though he was
tempted to refuse to do so. He found the lantern, for
he had seen it while he lay in the cuddy. He brought
it to Bark, and took the lamp out of the globe.
“You will find some matches in Filipe’s pockets,”
added Raimundo.
“I have matches enough,” answered Bill.
“I forgot that you used matches,” said the second
master; “but I am glad you have a chance to make
a better use of them than you did on board of the
Tritonia.”
“You needn’t say any thing! You are the first
officer that ever run away from that vessel,” growled
Bill, as he lighted a match, and communicated the blaze
to the wick of the lamp.
It was a kerosene–lamp, just such as is used at home,
and probably came from the United States. Bark
proceeded to examine the wound of Juan, and found it
was not a severe one. The young man was rapidly
coming to himself, and in a few minutes more he would
be able to take care of himself.
“I think we had better move him into the cuddy,”
suggested Bark. “We can make him comfortable
there, and fasten him in at the same time.”
“That’s a capital idea, Lingall; and if Stout will
take the helm I will help you move him,” answered
Raimundo.
“I will help move him,” volunteered Bill.
“I supposed you were afraid of him,” added the
second master. “He has about come to himself.”
Juan spoke then, and complained of his head. Bark
and Bill lifted him up, and carried him to the cuddy,
where they placed him on the bed of old garments upon
which they had slept themselves during the afternoon.
Bark had some little reputation among his companions
as a surgeon, probably because he always carried a
sheet of court–plaster in his pocket, and sometimes had
occasion to attend to the wounds of his friends. Perhaps
he had also a taste for this sort of thing; for he
was generally called upon in all cases of broken heads,
before the chief steward, who was the amateur surgeon
of the Tritonia, was summoned. At any rate, Bark,
either from genuine kindness, or the love of amateur
surgical dressing, was not content to let the wounded
Spaniard rest till he had done something more for
him. He washed the injury in fresh water, closed the
ugly cut with a piece of court–plaster, and then bound
up the head of the patient with his own handkerchief.
The wounded man tried to talk to him; but he could
not understand a word he said. If his father spoke
English, it was certain that the son did not. When he
had done all this, Bark relieved Raimundo at the helm,
and the latter went forward to talk with the patient,
who was so quiet that Bark had not thought of fastening
the door of the cuddy.
“I am well now,” said Juan, “and I want to go out.”
“You must not go out of this place; if you do, we
shall hit you over the head again,” replied the second
master sternly.
“Where is my father?” asked the patient.
“He is tied hand and foot; and we shall tie you in
the same way if you don’t keep still and obey orders,”
added Raimundo. “Lie still where you are, and no
harm shall be done to you.”
Raimundo, taking the lantern with him, left the
cuddy, and fastened it behind him with the padlock he
found in the staple. Putting the key in his pocket, he
made an examination into the condition of Filipe, with
the aid of the lantern. He found him still securely
bound, and, better than that, as quiet as a lamb.
“How is my son?” asked he.
“He is doing very well. We have dressed his
wound, and he will be as well as ever in a day or two,”
replied Raimundo.
“_Gracias, muchos gracias!_” exclaimed the prisoner.
“If we had been armed as you were, he might have
lost his life,” added Raimundo, moving aft to the helm.
“I think we are all right, Lingall.”
“I am very glad of it. We came very near getting
into a bad scrape,” replied Bark.
“It is bad enough as it is. I have been afraid of
something of this kind ever since we got well out of
the port of Barcelona,” continued the second master.
“The villain asked me so many questions about my
money that my suspicions were excited, and I was on
the watch for him. Then he was so anxious that we
should drink wine, I was almost sure he meant mischief.”
“I am very sorry I drank any wine. It only makes
my head ache,” replied Bark penitently.
“I have heard my uncle speak of these men; and I
know something about them.”
“The wine did not make my head ache,” said Bill.
“That’s because there is nothing in it,” answered
Raimundo, who could not restrain his contempt for the
incendiary.
“But I do not understand exactly how the fight was
begun,” said Bark. “The first I knew, the boatman
sprang at you.”
“That’s the first I knew, though I was on the lookout
for him, as I had been all the afternoon. He
understood what I meant when I told you this man
means mischief.”
“But he told you he could not speak English.”
“Most of the boatmen speak more or less English:
they learn it from the passengers they carry. He
wanted to know whether we had money before he did
any thing. He was probably satisfied that we had
some before he attempted to assault us.”
“I know you have money,” cried Filipe, in English;
and he seemed to be more anxious to prove the correctness
of his conclusion than to disprove his wicked
intentions.
“You have not got any of it yet,” replied Raimundo.
“But I will have it!” protested the villain.
“You tempt me to throw you and your son overboard,”
said Raimundo sternly, in Spanish.
“Not my son,” answered the villain, suddenly changing
his tone. “He is his mother’s only boy.”
“You should have thought of that before you brought
him with you on such business.”
The boatman, for such a villain as he was, seemed to
have a strange affection for his son; and Raimundo was
almost willing to believe he had not intended till some
time after they left the port to rob his passengers. Perhaps,
with the aid of the wine, he had expected an easy
victory; for, though the students were all stout fellows,
they were but boys.
“I will not harm you if you do not injure my boy,”
pleaded Filipe.
“It is not in your power to harm us now; for we
have all the power,” replied the second master.
“But you are deserters from your ship. I can tell
where you are,” added Filipe, with something like
triumph in his tones.
“We expect you to tell all you know as soon as you
return.”
“I can do it in Tarragona: they will arrest you there
if I tell them.”
“We are not afraid of that: if we were, we should
throw you and your son overboard.”
Filipe did not like this side of the argument, and he
was silent for some time. It must be confessed that
Raimundo did not like his side any better. The fellow
could inform the police in Tarragona that the party
were deserters, and cause them to be sent back to Barcelona.
Though this was better than throwing the
boatman and his son overboard, which was only an idle
threat, it would spoil all his calculations, and defeat
all his plans. He studied the case for some time, after
he had explained to Bark what had passed between
himself and Filipe in Spanish.
“You want more money than you were to receive
for the boat; do you, Filipe?” asked he.
“I have to pay five hundred _reales_ on this boat in
three days, or lose it and my small one too,” replied
the boatman; and the passenger was not sure he did
not invent the story as he went along. “I am not a
bad man; but I want two hundred _reales_ more than
you are to pay me.”
“Then you expect me to pay what I agreed, after
what has happened, do you?”
“You promised to pay it.”
“And you promised to take me to Tarragona; and
you have been trying to murder me on the way,” exclaimed
Raimundo indignantly.
“Oh, no! I did not mean to kill you, or to hurt
you; only to take two hundred _reales_ from you,”
pleaded the boatman, with the most refreshing candor.
“That’s all; is it?”
The villain protested, by the Virgin and all the saints
in the Spanish calendar, that he had not intended any
thing more than this; and Raimundo translated what
he said to his companion.
“There are a lot of lights on a high hill ahead,”
said Bill Stout, who had been looking at the shore,
which was only a short distance from them.
“That must be Tarragona,” replied the second master,
looking at his watch by the light of the lantern.
“It is ten minutes of seven; and we have been six
hours on the trip. I thought it would take about this
time. That must be Tarragona; it is on a hill eight
hundred feet high.”
“We have been sailing very fast, the last three
hours,” added Bark. “But how are we to get out of
this scrape?”
“I will see. Keep a sharp lookout on the starboard,
Lingall; and, when you see a place where you think we
can make a landing, let me know.—Can you steer,
Stout, and keep her as she is?”
“Of course I can steer. I don’t give up to any
fellow in handling a boat,” growled Bill.
Raimundo gave him the tiller; but he watched him
for a time, to see that he made good his word. The
bully did very well, and kept the felucca parallel with
the shore, as she had been all the afternoon.
“There is a mole makes out from the shore,” continued
the active skipper to Bark, who had gone
forward of the foremast to do the duty assigned to
him.
“Ay, ay! I can see it,” replied Bark.
“I think we need not quarrel, Filipe,” said Raimundo,
bending over the prisoner, and unloosing the
rope that bound his hands to the mast; but they were
still tied behind him. “We are almost into Tarragona,
and what we do must be done quickly.”
“Don’t harm Juan,” pleaded Filipe.
“That will depend on yourself, whether we do or
not,” replied Raimundo, as fiercely as he could speak.
“We are not to be trifled with; and Americans carry
pistols sometimes.”
“I will do what you wish,” answered Filipe.
“I will give you what I agreed, and two hundred
_reales_ besides, if you will keep still about our being
deserters; and that is all the money we have.”
“_Gracias!_ I will do it!” exclaimed the boatman.
“Release me, and I will land you outside of the mole,
and not go near the town to speak to any person.”
“I am afraid to trust you.”
“You can trust a Catalan when he promises;” and
Filipe proceeded to call upon the Virgin and the saints
to witness what he said.
“Where can we land?” asked the second master.
The boatman looked over the rail of the felucca;
and, when he had got his bearings, he indicated a point
where a safe landing might be made. It was not a
quarter of a mile distant; and Filipe said the mainsail
ought to be furled. Raimundo picked up the spare
tiller,—for, in spite of the Catalan’s oath and promise,
he was determined to be on the safe side,—and then
unfastened the ropes that bound the prisoner.
“If you play me false, I will brain you with this
club, and pitch your son into the sea!” said Raimundo,
as tragically as he could do the business.
“I will be true to my promise,” he replied, as he
brailed up the mainsail.
“You see that your money is ready for you as soon
as you land us,” continued Raimundo, as he showed
the villain five _Isabelinos_ he held in one hand, while he
grasped the spare tiller with the other.
“_Gracias!_” replied Filipe, who was possibly satisfied
when he found that he was to make the full sum he
had first named as his price; and it may be that he was
tempted by the urgency of his creditor to rob his passengers.
“Have your pistol ready, Lingall!” added Raimundo,
as the boatman, who had taken the helm from Bill, threw
the felucca up into the wind, and her keel began to
grate on the rocks.
“Ay, ay!” shouted Bark.
The boat ran her long bow up to the dry land, and
hung there by her bottom. Raimundo gave the five
hundred _reales_ to Filipe, and sprang ashore with the
tiller in his hand. Calling to Bark, they shoved off the
felucca, and then ran for the town.