IN CONFINEMENT.
The steward--a tall man with a long face, dark gray eyes, and thin
lips, advanced, and proceeded to secure the handcuffs to the wrists
of the young man.
The latter eyed him sternly, for a few moments, before he ventured to
address him.
“What has the captain ever done to you, Joseph,” he then said, “that
you should thus turn traitor?”
“He! he! he!” laughed the Portuguese, “Captain Lark more better as
Captain Howard. He take de ship to some port and sell him--cargo and
all. Den me get big share of de profit.”
Marline had benefited this man in many ways--had often, by kindly
interposition, shielded him from the blows of the first mate; had
even, on one occasion, saved him from falling overboard while he
was aloft assisting the watch to reef the main topsail in a gale
of wind; and yet the ungrateful villain seemed now to exult in the
misfortunes of his benefactor.
“Where is Alice?” inquired the latter, as the steward locked the
handcuffs.
The Portuguese chuckled, but did not reply.
“Speak!” cried the harpooner, fiercely. “Where is she?”
“Why, of course, in de cabin--in her own room--me fasten her in so
she can’t get out!”
“You are a sneaking wretch, Joseph!”
“What you say? No call me dat--I tell you,” cried the steward, as he
pushed the young man against the rail.
The chief mutineer interposed. With the stock of his pistol he dealt
the Portuguese a blow upon the head that felled him to the deck.
“Equal rights!” he said, quietly, as he pointed to the prostrate
man, and placed the pistol in his pocket; “that’s the law aboard o’
this craft, in future. This way, Driko, Amolo, and Black Squall,” he
added, motioning to three of the New Zealanders; “take Marline to
the run, and fasten the hatch the same as it was fastened when I was
there!”
The men obeyed with alacrity, and Marline was in the run. No sooner
had the hatch been secured, than he heard the rushing of the water,
and the grinding of the icebergs against the ship’s bottom, as she
boomed upon her way.
His reflections were certainly very gloomy. The thought that Alice
was only separated from him by a few planks, and yet that he could
neither hold converse with her, nor go to her in case that Tom Lark,
or any of his party, should insult her, worked upon his mind until it
was wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement.
“What are the plans of these mutineers in regard to the young
girl?” he asked himself again and again, and although it seemed to
him that they _must_ respect the purity, the loveliness, and the
goodness of one who had benefited them by a thousand of those kindly
little attentions to their welfare and comfort which a woman in a
ship--especially if she have influence with the captain--has it in
her power to bestow, yet there was a presentiment within him that
whispered of trouble and suffering.
And with his head bowed upon his bosom--with his manacled hands
against his brow, and his heart beating loud and fast with
anxiety--he offered up a silent but fervent prayer to God, to spare
his beautiful Alice--to shield her from all harm--and restore her to
the arms of those who loved her.
That prayer was scarcely finished when he felt a hand upon his arm,
and on lifting his head, he was enabled to make out in the gloom with
which he had by this time become familiar, the outlines of a human
countenance.
“Hist!” whispered a low voice, “don’t speak too loud; it’s
me--Stump--and this if I ain’t mistaken is Harry Marline!”
“Ay, ay, you are right!” cried the harpooner, much surprised, “but
where in the name of heaven, Stump, did you come from? You were
not confined here were you? I thought you were in league with the
mutineers.”
“That’s the way of the world,” muttered the shipkeeper, mournfully.
“Yes--yes, that’s the way with ’em all! Sarcumstances always goes
against a man, hows’ever honest he may be! But I didn’t think it,
Marline--no, blast me if I did--that _you_, my chum, would ever mix
up my deeds with those of them infarnal scoundrels!”
“Forgive me!” exclaimed the young man, joyfully grasping the hand of
his friend as tightly as his irons would admit. “I was altogether too
hasty, and I’m sorry for it. But, tell me how you came here.”
“Ay, ay,” said Stump. “I’ll explain matters willingly enough,
especially as it will give me a chance to curse those rascally
blueskins again, and to show you as I always was for maintaining,
that them creatur’s ain’t to be trusted.”
He proceeded to tell his story, commencing with those incidents with
which the reader is already acquainted.
“Yes,” continued the exasperated seaman, as soon as he had described
the manner in which he had been thrust into the hole, “they fastened
the hatches above me, and then I heard ’em go aft, and presently
the voice of Tom Lark ordering ’em to cut the cable, and loosen the
topsails, broke upon my ears, so that I knowed they had set that big
hang-dog rascal at liberty. Scarcely was the ship under way, when I
also heard that wild fiend Driko, proposing to Lark to knock me in
the head, and thus get rid of me. But Tom, you know, although he is
a parfect savage when he holds a grudge against anybody, doesn’t
care to shed blood when he can get along without it, and that was
the reason, as I take it, that he refused to comply with the polite
request of that infarnal pow-wow.”
“Did you overhear any thing that gave you an idea of what Lark
intended to do with the ship?”
“Not a bit of it, but I haven’t a doubt that he intends to take the
craft into some out o’ the way port, and sell her--cargo and all.”
“That’s very probable,” replied his friend. “It’s a pity,” he added,
“it’s a pity that the captain and his boat’s crew didn’t stay aboard
as they are in the habit of doing. Then this misfortune might have
been prevented.”
“Ay, ay, but we’ll be even with ’em yet,” replied the narrator, “and
now I’ll tell you how I came here, which was done by a little of that
‘injunyewity’ for which the Stump natur’ has always been famous. As
soon as I perceived that the craft was under way, says I to myself,
‘Why,’ says I, ‘I’m only fastened with ropes, and p’raps if I can
find the old saw which is somewhere in the hold, I can make short
work of ’em. And so I crept about as well as I was able, looking
for the instrument, which I soon came afoul of. It was a long time
hows’ever before I could get it in the right position, for I could
only use my teeth to do that, and they ain’t quite as parfect as the
teeth of a shark, seeing as three of ’em were once knocked out by
an old woman, because I took her part against her husband who was
beating her--blast him--and the rest are almost ruined by the long
use of baccy and the habit of biting off the ends of spun yarn. Well,
I tugged and pulled with my teeth for a long time and at last got the
saw ship-shape. Then I turned my back to it, and by running the ropes
that was about my wrists, up and down the edge, I soon had ’em apart.
The rest was easy, and I was glad enough, lad--mightily glad to find
myself freed from the cords.”
“And afterward you heard the mutineers as they led me to the run,”
said Marline, “and you thought you’d take a cruise in this direction
to see who the prisoner was. Isn’t that so?”
“Exactly,” repeated Stump, “but I didn’t dream who it was until I had
crept close to that big opening in the partition that divides the run
from the steerage. Then, as I’d got familiar-like with the dark, I
was surprised enough to see you, and I couldn’t imagine how you came
here, which is the same even now.”
Marline at once proceeded to enlighten his companion, and as soon as
he had concluded, the shipkeeper seized both the hands of his friend
and gave them a hearty squeeze.
“Misfortunes attends the best of us,” he said philosophically, “but
we’ll hope for the best--ay, ay, we’ll hope for the best, and work
for it too. The gal--Miss Alice--is the great ‘consideration,’ and if
we can only get her safe, why, if we can do _that_ it’s all right.”
“You do not think they’ll attempt to harm her?” cried Marline,
interrogatively.
“I don’t know about Tom Lark,” replied Stump, “but, as to them
pow-wows, I wouldn’t trust ’em--not one of ’em. The flesh of that gal
is tender, and them fellows are cannibals and like good grub.”
“Can not you contrive some way for me to get an interview with
Alice?” said Harry.
Stump gave his pigtail a jerk.
“I don’t see how it could be done,” he said, thoughtfully. “The
hatches are all fastened above us--the door of _her_ room is locked
besides, and--and--ay! ay! I have it!” he suddenly interrupted,
“which is that that rascally steward must open the hatch before long
to pass you some food, and p’raps I’ll get a chance to pounce on him,
gag him and tie him up. The rest will be as easy as the greasing of
a marlinspike. I’ll get--if he has ’em about him, which I think is
likely--the key of her room and the one which unlocks your handcuffs.”
“Thanks!--a thousand thanks, for this happy thought, my dear chum!”
cried the harpooner.
“P’raps we may even be able to bag the mutineers themselves,” said
the shipkeeper, “to shut ’em all up--the pow-wows in the forecastle,
and Lark in the cabin. It’s wonderful--parfectly wonderful,” he
added, thoughtfully, “how one idee leads to another. Them that is
given to reflection, and the Stumps were always famous for that,
propagates idees--fairly breeds ’em--one from another!”
“Hush!” whispered Marline. The sound of footsteps approaching the
hatch was heard.
“It’s him--it’s that rascally Portuguese,” muttered the
shipkeeper. “I’d know that walk of his from a thousand, lad. It’s
peculiar--something like the tramp of a mule, and them that walks so
ain’t to be trusted. Now the walk of the Stumps in every generation
has been like that of a duck--a sort of waddle, and them that moves
in that way generally takes to the water.”
The noise of the crow-bar--by means of which the hatch had been
secured--was heard, as the implement was removed, and the next
moment, just as Stump drew back, the trap was pulled aside from the
opening, into which a face--the owner of which had stooped upon
his knees--was thrust. Without waiting to take a survey of it, the
shipkeeper seized the intruder by the hair of the head and pulled him
head foremost into the run. But, before he had quite accomplished
this feat, and yet when it was too late to draw back, he had seen the
face clearly enough to recognize the harsh and decided lineaments of
Tom Lark, which were different in every respect from those of the
steward.
“Ay, ay, that _was_ a mistake, sure enough!” cried Stump, scrambling
quickly through the opening, as soon as the uplifted legs of the
prostrate man beneath had been removed from it, “such a mistake as I
never made before in my life, and as prudence is the better part of
valor, I think I am parfectly justified in getting out of the run!”
He lifted his feet clear of the aperture just in time to escape the
hand of the mutineer as the latter, who had by this time risen from
his uncomfortable posture, made a furious attempt to clutch the
bottoms of his pants.
“You wretched imp of Satan!” roared Lark, in a voice of thunder, as
the other eluded his grasp, “you shall suffer for this trick!”
And he thrust a hand into the side-pocket of his Guernsey, to procure
his pistol.
Stump saw the movement, and quickly seizing the crow-bar lying at his
feet, he dealt the mutineer such a heavy blow upon his head--which
projected at least eighteen inches above the combings of the
hatch--that he dropped senseless into the run.
“It was all done in self defense!” cried the shipkeeper, as he
leaped back into the hold. “Ay, ay--that it was, sure enough. But,
bad as the man is--and he’s a parfect shark--it cost me something
to give him that blow, seeing as I’m not in the habit of indulging
myself in that way. I hope I haven’t committed murder--I hope he
isn’t dead!”
“He’s only stunned, I guess,” replied Marline. “He’ll soon come to
his senses.”
“You think he will?” cried Stump, twitching his pigtail a little
nervously. “You think he’ll broach to again? My eyes! seeing as
that’s the case, then I think it would be as well to take time by the
forelock--to provide myself with his pistol, and to make him fast, so
he can’t do any more harm. He’ll never forgive me--no, never--when
he gets over his faint. It’s astonishing how the human family holds
grudges!” And, drawing his sheath-knife, he proceeded, with all
possible dispatch, to cut from one of the numerous coils of ratlin
stuff lying about him, a sufficient number of the twisted strands to
secure the arms and legs of the giant.
This task was soon accomplished, after which the mutineer was
properly secured, and his pistol transferred from his own to the
pocket of his conqueror.
“Now, then,” said the latter, breathing a sigh of relief, “I think
he’ll be surprised when he wakes.”