The more I considered the boatswain's proposal, the better I liked
it. All that day I turned it over and over in my mind. And, what was
useful to me, I could sleep when I lay down in my watches below, which
was a luxury I had feared, after the boatswain's disclosure at the
breakfast-table, would be denied me.
I did not wish Miss Robertson to sit at the cuddy table at meal hours,
and when dinner-time came I took care that as good a meal should be
taken to her and her father as the ship could furnish.
When Stevens joined me at the table, he sang out to the steward to
"tell the old gent an' his darter that dinner vos a vaitin'!" Whereupon
I explained that the old gentleman was too ill to leave his bunk.
"Well, then, let the gal come," said he.
"She can't leave her father," I replied.
"Perhaps it ain't that so much as because I ain't genteel enough for
her. It's the vest end o' London as won't have nothen to do with
Wapping. The tobaccy in my breath's too strong for her."
"Nothing of the kind. The old man is ill, and she must watch him. As to
your manners, I dare say she is better pleased with them than you ought
to be told. It is not every ship's carpenter that could talk and look
like a skipper, and keep men under as you do."
"You're right there!" he exclaimed, with a broad grin. "Come, sarve us
out a dollop o' that pork, will yer? Roast pork's never too fresh for
me."
And he fell like an animal to the meat, and forgot, as I wished, all
about Miss Robertson.
In the first watch, from eight in the evening until midnight, which was
the boatswain's, I went and sat for an hour with the old gentleman and
his daughter. Not a word was said about the peril we were in; he was
quite ignorant of it, and, being better and stronger, was eager in his
questions about the ship's progress.
I took notice that he appeared to forget all about the mutiny, and
conversed as if I were captain. Nor did he show any strong recollection
of the loss of his ship and the circumstances attending it. Indeed,
it seemed that as he grew better his memory grew worse. _That_ was
the faculty injured by his sufferings, and when I listened to his
questions, which took no cognizance of things of the past, though
as recent as yesterday, I thought his memory would presently quit
him wholly, for he was an old man, with a mind too feeble to hold on
tightly.
I left them at half-past nine, and went on deck. I tried to see who was
at the wheel, but could not make the man out. I think it was one of the
Dutchmen. Better this man than Fish, Johnson, or some of the others,
whose names I forget, who were thick with the carpenter, and before
whom it would not be wise to talk with any suggestion of mystery with
the boatswain.
However, there was not much chance of my being noticed, for the night
was gloomy, and all about the decks quite dark. The ship was under
topsails and main top-gallant sail; the wind was east-south-east,
blowing freshly, with long seas. There was no appearance of foul
weather, and the glass stood steady; but an under-sky of level cloud
lay stretched across the stars; and looking abroad over the ship's
side, nothing was distinguishable but the foam of the waves breaking as
they ran.
As I emerged from the companion, the boatswain hailed the forecastle,
and told the man there to keep a good look-out. I had not had an
opportunity of speaking to him since the morning. I touched him on the
arm, and he turned and stared to see who I was.
"Ah, Mr. Royle," said he.
"Let's get under the lee of that quarter-boat," said I. "We can hear
each other there. Who's at the wheel?"
"Dutch Joe."
"Come to the binnacle first, and I'll talk to you about the ship's
course, and then we'll get under the quarter-boat, and he'll think I am
giving you sailing directions."
We did this, and I gave the boatswain some instructions in the hearing
of the Dutchman; and to appear very much in earnest, the boatswain and
I hove the log whilst Dutch Joe turned the glass, which he could easily
attend to, holding a spoke with one hand, for the ship was steering
herself.
We then walked to the quarter-boat and stood under the lee of it.
"Bo'sun," said I, "the more I think of your scheme, the better I like
it. Whatever may happen, your being in the hold will prevent any man
from scuttling the ship."
"Yes, so it will; I'll take care of that. One blow must do the job--he
mustn't cry out. The pianofortes are amidships on nearly two foot of
dunnage; all forrard the cases run large, and it's there they'll find
space."
"My intention is not to wait until we come to the Gulf in order to
carry this out," said I; "I'll clap on sixty, eighty, a hundred miles,
just as I see my way, to every day's run, so as to bring the Gulf of
Mexico close alongside the Bermuda Islands. Do you understand, bo'sun?"
"Yes, I understand. There's no use in waitin'. You're quite right to
get it over. The sooner the better, says I."
"We shall average a run of 300 miles every twenty-four hours, and I'll
slip in an extra degree whenever I can. Who's to know?"
"Ne'er a man on this wessel, sir," he answered. "There's not above two
as can spell words in a book."
"So I should think. Of course I shall have to prick off the chart
according to the wind. A breeze like this may well give us three
hundred miles. If it fall calm I can make her drift sixty miles
west-sou'-west, and clap on another eighty for steerage way. I shall
have double reckonings--one for the crew, one for myself. You, as chief
mate, will know it's all right."
"Leave that to me," he answered, with a short laugh. "They've found out
by this time that the ship's a clipper, and I'll let 'em understand
that there never was a better navigator than you. It 'll be for you and
me to keep as much canvas on her as she'll carry in our watches, for
the sake of appearance; and if I was you, sir, I'd trim the log-line
afresh."
"A good idea," said I. "I'll give her a double dose. Twelve knots shall
be nothing in a moderate breeze."
We both laughed at this; and then, to make my presence on deck appear
reasonable, I walked to the binnacle.
I returned and said--
"In nine days hence we must contrive to be in longitude 62° and
latitude 33°;--somewhere about it. If we can average 180 miles every
day we shall do it."
"What do you make the distance from where we are now to the Gulf?"
"In broad numbers, three thousand miles."
"No more?"
"Averaging two hundred miles a day we should be abreast of New Orleans
in a fortnight. I said three weeks, but I shall correct myself to
Stevens to-morrow, after I have taken observations. I'll show him a
jump on the chart that will astonish him. I'll punish the scoundrels
yet. I'll give them the direct course to Bermuda when they're in the
boats, and if our plot only succeeds and the wind serves, one of us two
will be ashore on the island before them, to let the governor know whom
he is to expect."
"That may be done, too," answered the boatswain; "but it'll have to be
a dark night to get away from 'em without their seeing of us."
"They'll choose a dark night for their own sakes. Boatswain, give us
your hand. Your cleverness has in my opinion as good as saved us. I
felt a dead man this morning, but I never was more alive, thanks to
you, than I am now."
I grasped his hand, and went below, positively in better spirits that I
had enjoyed since I first put my foot upon this ill-fated ship.
* * * * *
The first thing I did next morning was to mark off the log-line
afresh, having smuggled the reel below during my watch. I shortened
the distances between the knots considerably, so that a greater number
should pass over the stern whilst the sand was running than would be
reeled off if the line were true.
At eight bells, when the boatswain went on deck, I asked him to
take the log with him; and following him presently, just as Stevens
was about to leave the poop, I looked around me, as if studying the
weather, and exclaimed--
"Bos'un, you must keep the log going, please. Heave it every hour,
never less. I may have to depend upon dead-reckoning to-day, Mr.
Stevens;" and I pointed to the sky, which was as thick as it had been
all night.
"Shall I heave it now?" inquired the boatswain.
"Did you heave it in your watch, Mr. Stevens?" said I.
"No," he replied. "What are we doin' now? This has been her pace all
along--ha'n't touched a brace or given an order since I came on deck."
He had come on deck to relieve me at four.
"Let's heave the log," I exclaimed; "I shall be better satisfied."
I gave the glass to Stevens, and whilst arranging the log-ship, I
looked over the side, and said--
"By Jove, she's walking and no mistake."
"I allow that we're doing ten," said the man at the wheel.
"I give her thirteen good," said I.
"Call it fifteen, and you'll not be far out," observed the boatswain.
The carpenter cocked his evil eye at the water, but hazarded no
conjecture.
"She _can_ sail--if she can't do nothen else," was all he said.
I flung the log-ship overboard.
"Turn!" I cried out.
I saw the knots fibbing out like a string of beads. The reel roared in
the boatswain's hands, and when Stevens called "Stop!" I caught the
line and allowed it to jam me against the rail, as though the weight of
it, dragged through the water at the phenomenal speed at which we were
supposed to be going, would haul me overboard.
"What's that knot there, Mr. Stevens?" I called out. "Bear a hand! the
line is cutting my fingers in halves!"
He put down the sand-glass and laid hold of the line where the knot
was, and began to count.
"Fifteen!" he roared.
"Well, I'm jiggered!" exclaimed the man steering.
I looked at Stevens triumphantly, as though I should say, "What do you
think of that?"
"I told you you wur wrong, Mr. Royle," said the boatswain. "It's all
fifteen. By jingo! it ain't sailing, it's engine drivin'!"
The true speed of the _Grosvenor_ was about nine and a half
knots--certainly not more; and whether the carpenter should believe the
report of the log or not, was nothing to me.
"Log it fifteen on the slate, bo'sun, and keep the log going every
hour," I said, and went below again.
I saw, as was now my regular custom at every meal, that the steward
took a good breakfast to the Robertsons' cabin, and then sat down with
Stevens to the morning repast.
I took this opportunity of suggesting that if the wind held, and the
vessel maintained her present rate of speed, we might hope to be in the
Gulf of Mexico in a fortnight.
"How do you make that out? It was three weeks yesterday."
"And it might have been a month," I answered. "But a few days of this
kind of sailing, let me tell you, Mr. Stevens, make a great difference
in one's calculations."
"How fur off is the Gulf of Mexico?" he asked.
"About a couple of thousand miles."
"Oh, a couple of thousand miles. Well, an' what reckoning do you get
out o' that?"
"Suppose you put the ship's pace down at thirteen knots an hour?"
"I thought you made it fifteen?" he exclaimed, looking at me
suspiciously.
"Yes, but I don't suppose we shall keep that up. For the sake of
argument I call it thirteen?"
"Well?" cramming his mouth as he spoke.
"In twenty-four hours we shall have run a distance of three hundred and
twelve miles."
He nodded.
"Therefore, if we have the luck to keep up this pace of two knots
less than we are now actually doing, for fifteen days, we shall have
accomplished--let me see."
I drew out a pencil, and commenced a calculation on the back of an old
envelope.
"Three hundred and twelve multiplied by fifteen. Five times naught
are naught; three naughts and two are ten; add two thousand; we shall
have accomplished a distance of four thousand six hundred and eighty
miles--that is two thousand six hundred and eighty miles further than
we want to go."
He was puzzled (and well he might be) by my fluent figures, but would
not appear so.
"I understand," said he.
"Stop a bit," I exclaimed; "I want to show you something."
I entered the captain's cabin, procured a chart of the North and South
Atlantic, including the eastern American coast, and spread it upon the
table.
"The two thousand miles I have given you," said I, "would bring you
right off the Mississippi. See here."
He rose and stooped over the chart.
"The short cut to the Gulf," I continued, pointing with my pencil,
"is through the Florida Channel, clean through the Bahamas, where the
navigation is very ugly."
"I see."
"I wouldn't trust myself there without a pilot on any consideration,
and, of course," said I, looking at him, "we don't want a pilot."
"I should rayther think we don't," he answered, scowling at the chart.
"So," I went on, "to keep clear of ships and boats, which are sure
to board us if we get among these islands, I should steer round
the Caribees, do you see?--well away from them, and up through the
Caribbean Sea, into the Gulf. Do you follow me?"
"Yes, yes--I see."
"Now, Mr. Stevens," said I very gravely, "I want to do my duty to the
crew, and put them and myself in the way of getting ashore and clear
off from all bad consequences."
The scoundrel tried to meet my eyes, but could not; and he listened to
me, gazing the while on the chart.
"But I don't think I should succeed if I got among those islands
blocking up the entrance of the Gulf; and as to the Gulf itself, you
may take your oath it's full of ships, some of which will pick you up
before you reach the shore, whilst others are pretty certain to come
across the vessel you have abandoned, and then--look out!"
He swallowed some coffee hastily, stared at the chart, and said in a
surly voice, "What are you drivin' at?"
"Instead of our abandoning the ship in the Gulf of Mexico," I said, "my
opinion is that, in order to assure our safety, and lessen the chance
of detection, we ought to abandon her clear of these islands, to the
norrard of them, off this coast here--Florida," pointing to the chart.
"You think so?" he said, doubtfully, after a long pause.
"I am certain of it. We ought to land upon some uninhabited part of the
coast, travel along it northwards, until we reach a town, and there
represent ourselves as shipwrecked sailors. Ask your mates if I am not
right."
"Perhaps you are," he replied, still very dubious, though not speaking
distrustfully.
"If you select the coast of Florida, clear of all these islands, and
away from the track of ships, I'll undertake, with good winds, to put
the ship off it in nine or ten days. But I'll not answer for our safety
if you oblige me to navigate her into the Gulf of Mexico."
He continued looking at the chart for some moments, and I saw by the
movements of his lips that he was trying to spell the names of the
places written on the Florida coast outline, though he would not ask me
to help him.
At last he said--
"It's Fish and two others as chose New Orleans. _I_ have no fancy for
them half-an'-half places. What _I_ wanted was to get away into the
Gulf of Guinea, and coast along down to Congo, or that way. I know that
coast, but I never was in Amerikey, and," he added, fetching the chart
a blow with his fist, "curse me if I like the notion of going there."
"It won't do to be shifting about," said I, frightened that he would go
and get the crew to agree with him to run down to the African coast,
which would seriously prolong the journey, and end, for all I could
tell, in defeating my scheme; "we shall be running short of water and
eatable stores, and then we shall be in a fix. Make up your mind, Mr.
Stevens, to the Florida coast; you can't do better. We shall fetch it
in a few days, and once ashore, we can disperse in parties, and each
party can tell their own yarn if they are asked questions."
"Well, I'll talk to Fish and the others about it," he growled, going
back to his seat. "I think you're right about them West Indie Islands.
We must keep clear o' them. Perhaps some of 'em forrards may know what
this here Florida is like. I was never ashore there."
He fell to his breakfast again, and finding him silent, and
considering that enough had been said for the present, I left him.
I did not know how well I had argued the matter until that night, when
he came to me on the poop, at half-past eight, and told me that the men
were all agreed that it would be too dangerous to abandon the ship off
New Orleans, and that they preferred the notion of leaving her off the
Florida coast.
I asked him if I was to consider this point definitely settled, and on
his answering in the affirmative, I sang out to the man at the wheel to
keep her away a couple of points, and ordered some of the watch to haul
in a bit on the weather braces, explaining to Stevens that his decision
would bring our course a trifle more westerly.
I then told him that, with a good wind, I would give the ship eight or
nine days to do the run in, and recommended him to let the crew know
this, as they must now turn to and arrange, not only how they should
leave the ship--in what condition, whether with their clothes and
effects, as if they had had time to save them, or quite destitute, as
though they had taken to the boats in a hurry--but also make up their
minds as to the character of the story they should relate when they got
ashore.
He answered that all this was settled, as, of course, I was very well
aware; but then my reason for talking to him in this strain was to
convince him that I had no suspicion of the diabolical project he was
meditating against my life.
You will, perhaps, find it hard to believe that he and the others
should be so ignorant of navigation as to be duped by my false
reckonings and misstatements of distances. But I can aver from
experience that merchant-seamen are, as a rule, as ignorant and
thick-headed a body of men as any in this world--and scarcely a
handful in every thousand with even a small acquaintance with the
theoretical part of their calling. More than a knowledge of practical
seamanship is not required from them; and how many are proficient even
in this branch? Of every ship's company more than half always seem to
be learning their business; furling badly, reefing badly, splicing,
scraping, painting, cleaning badly; turning to lazily; slow up aloft,
negligent, with an immense capacity of skulking.
I am persuaded that had I not shown Stevens the chart, I could have
satisfied him that a southerly course would have fetched the coast
of America. The mistake I made was in being too candid and honest
with them in the beginning. But then I had no plan formed. I dared
not be tricky without plausibility, and without some definite end to
achieve. Now that I had got a good scheme in my head, I progressed with
it rapidly, and I felt so confident of the issue, in the boatswain's
pluck and my own energy, that my situation no longer greatly excited my
apprehensions, and all that I desired was that the hour might speedily
arrive when the boats with their cargo of rascals and cowards should
put off and leave the ship.