THE ESCAPE.
CHARLES BRAMBLE found himself playing a dangerous part. It was true that
Leonard Hust had freed his hands from those shackles that had confined
them so long, and had pointed out to him the way to retreat and escape;
but he must run the gauntlet of dangers in order to do so. This,
however, he was prepared to do; as to fear, it was a sensation he knew
not; but prudence was much more requisite in this instance than any
especial degree of courage. As is always the case on board a man-of-war,
especially when lying in port, where the escape to the shore is easy,
sentinels were placed at stem, stern and waist of the English ship, at
all hours, pacing their allotted round of the deck, and keeping watchful
guard over every avenue of exit from the vessel.
The only possible plan of escape that suggested itself to Charles
Bramble, under the circumstances, was to place a few necessary articles
of clothing in a small package, and confine it to the back of his neck,
while he should divest himself of all garments, slip quietly into the
water on the seaward side of the ship, where none of the sentries were
immediately placed, the object being to guard the access to the shore
more especially. Once in the water he had only to strike out quietly for
the shore, trusting the dullness of the sentries and the favoring
darkness of the night to enable him to reach the land unobserved.
He had the most to fear from the sentry placed on the top-gallant
forecastle of the ship, as that post was so near to his line of passage.
He would have to swim around the bows far enough out to clear the land
tackle, and when he got on an even line with the ship's bows, this
sentry, if he happened to be on the lookout at the moment, could hardly
fail to see him on the surface of the water. To obviate this difficulty,
Leonard Hust, who was a sort of privileged person on board, being the
captain's confidential servant and man of all work, undertook to engage
the sentry's attention by sonic device, for a few moments, just at the
opportune period, while the prisoner should get fairly clear of the
ship.
"See here, Bill," said Leonard Hust, carelessly, as he emerged from the
fore hatch; "look ye, old boy, I have had such a dream, hang me if I can
sleep a wink."
"What's that to me?" growled the sentry, morosely, and not much more
than half awake.
"Why, if you knew what it was I dreamed, you would think it was
something to you," continued the other, with assumed mystery and
seriousness.
"Look ye, Leonard Hust," said the marine, "do you know you arc talking
to a sentry on duty, and that it's clearly against the rules of the ship
to do so?"
"Why, as to the matter of that, I don't see hut that you are as much to
blame as I am," continued the other; "but who is there to peach on
either of us?"
"That's true," added the marine, bringing the butt of his musket lightly
to the deck; "but for all that, Leonard, it's dangerous business, for
you see if--hallo! what's that?"
"Nothing; nothing but me drawing this cork," said the other, quickly
producing a small bottle of brandy from his pocket, and urging the
marine to drink.
The temptation was too great, and the sleepy and tired sentinel drank a
heavy draught of the liquor, smacking his lips, and forgetting the sound
he had just heard, and which Leonard Hust very well knew was caused by
the prisoner's descent a little too quickly into the water, alongside
the ship.
"Now, Bill, what do you think I did dream?" continued the captain's man.
"Bother it, how can I tell?" answered the marine. "Let it out if it's
worth telling."
"Why, do you see, Bill, I kept tossing and turning uncomfortable-like
for an hour or so, until finally I thought I saw you, with your face as
black as the ace of spades, and your body dangling by the neck from the
main yard-arm of the ship, a dead man!"
"Well, that's comfortable at any rate," said the marine, "and you
needn't trouble yourself in future, Leonard Hust, to repeat your dreams
to me, especially if they are personal."
"Never mind, man, it was all a dream, no truth in it, you know. Come,
old boy, take another drink for companionship, and then good night to
you, and I'll turn in."
The marine greedily drained the rest of the bottle, and with swimming
eyes thanked Leonard for his kindness, bade him good night, and with an
unsteady step resumed his musket and his walk upon the forecastle. In
the meantime, Charles Bramble, who was an expert swimmer, had got out of
gunshot and even sight of the ship, or rather where his head could not
be discovered from the ship's deck, and was nearing the shore very fast.
He had secured, as he proposed, sufficient clothing upon the back of his
neck, and in an oil cloth covering, so as to keep it dry, to equip
himself quite comfortably on landing, and in these garments he was soon
dressed again, and making his way through the town to the mission house,
where he knew Helen Huntington and her mother to be, and where he knew,
also, that he could find at last temporary lodgings.
He had no longer any fear that his brother would resume the charge
concerning him before the court--bad as he knew him to be, he did not
believe that he would do this, though he doubted not that he would have
managed to have kept him in confinement, and perhaps to have carried him
thus to England, partly from revengeful feelings towards him, and partly
to keep him out of the presence of her whom he so tenderly loved. But,
lest his brother should be betrayed by his feelings into any extremity
of action concerning him, he resolved at once to write him a note,
declaring that their relationship was known, and that should any further
persecution be offered, the same should at once be made public to the
oppressor's disgrace.
With this purpose, he hardly awaited the breaking of day before he
possessed himself of writing materials, and wrote and despatched the
following to his brother:
"CAPTAIN ROBERT BRAMBLE,--About the same time you receive this note, you
will also be made aware, doubtless, of my escape from durance vile in
your ship. The purpose of my sending yon this is not to ask any favors
at the hand of one who was never actuated towards me even in childhood
by a brother's regard, but whose sole desire and purpose have been to
oppress and injure one related to him by the nearest ties of
relationship. My object is rather to let you know that any further
attempt to arraign me before the court will lead at once to a public
declaration of the fact that your are my brother, a relationship which
necessity alone will compel me to publish to the people of Sierra Leone.
CHARLES BRAMBLE,
"Alias CAPTAIN WILL RATLIN."
Charles Bramble felt that he was safe from further immediate oppression
on his brother's part, and that it was only necessary for him to keep
quietly within doors until some chance for shipping from the port should
occur, to enable him to disentangle himself from the singular web of
circumstances which chance had woven so net-like about him. In spite of
the sad accomplishments of the realization of his condition as it
regarded his brother, and the partial danger of his present position,
yet there was a lightness to his heart, a buoyancy in his breast, which
he had not known for nearly a score of years, for he now felt that all
shame of birth was removed from him, that he was respectably and even
highly born, and that in point of blood was even the equal, full equal
of that fair and lovely girl he regarded so devotedly.
Of course there was no disguise between Charles Bramble and Helen, and
her mother, as to the charge brought against him. They knew very well
that he had been engaged in the evil trade of the coast, but they knew
also that he had conducted his part of the business upon the most humane
principles which the traffic would admit, and that he was not a
principal, but an agent in the business, sailing his ship as rich owners
had directed, and also that besides the fact of his having utterly
renounced the trade altogether since he became acquainted with Helen
Huntington, his heart and feelings had never been engaged in its
necessary requirements. Realizing these facts, we say, neither Helen nor
her mother regarded Captain Ratlin (the only character in which they yet
knew him) to be actually and seriously culpable as to at charge of
inhumanity.
The gratification which Helen evinced on meeting him the next morning
after his escape from the ship, was too honest, too unmistakable in its
import not to raise up fresh hopes in his heart, that, in spite of his
seeming disgrace, his confinement as a prisoner, his trial as an outlaw,
and his fallen fortunes generally, still there was one heart that beat
purely and tenderly with at least a sister's affection for him, and even
Mrs. Huntington, who had not for one moment suspected the true state of
her daughter's sentiments towards the young commander, did not hesitate
to salute him tenderly, and assure him of her gratification at his
release from bondage. She was a generous hearted woman, frank and
honorable in her sentiments, and she secretly rejoiced that they had,
herself and daughter unitedly, been able to exert a refining influence
over so chivalric and noble a character, as she fully realized Captain
Ratlin to be at heart, and in all his inward promptings.
Charles Bramble still hesitated as to revealing his relationship to
Captain Robert Bramble, from real feelings of delicacy, even to Mrs.
Huntington, whom he felt he could trust, partly because he had reason to
know that the mother had favored the suit of his brother whom Helen had
rejected in India, and partly because at present of his own equivocal
situation. But to Helen herself he felt that he might, indeed that he
must reveal the important truth, and that very evening as they sat
together in one of the spacious apartments of the mission house, he took
her hand within his own, and asked her if he might confide in her as he
would have done with a dear sister.
"You know, Captain Ratlin, that I feel so much indebted to you, in so
many ways, that any little service I am capable of doing for you would
be but a grateful pleasure," was the instant and frank reply of the
beautiful girl, while a heightened glow mantled her cheek.
"Then, Helen, listen to me, and if I am too excited in speaking of a
subject so immensely important to me, I trust you will forgive me.
Already I have given you a rough outline of my story, rough and uncouth
indeed, since I could give it no commencement. You will remember that
previous to the fall I got on ship-board, while a boy in the 'Sea Lion,'
I could recall no event. It was all a blank to me, and my parentage and
my childhood were to me a sealed book. Strange as it may seem that book
has been opened, and the story is now complete. I know all!"
"Indeed! indeed I am rejoiced to hear you say so," was the earnest
reply, while the countenance of the fair creature by his side was
lighted up by tenderness and hope.
"You look pleased, Helen," he continued; "but supposing the gap in my
story, which is now filled up, had better for my own credit have
remained blank!"
"That cannot be--I feel that it cannot be," she said, almost eagerly.
"Supposing that it is now ascertained that the parents of the sailor
boy, whose story you have heard, deserted him because of necessity;
supposing they were poor, very humble, but not dishonest, would such
facts rob me of your continued kind feelings?"
"You know, Captain Ratlin, that you need not ask such a question," she
replied, as she looked into his face with her whole gentle soul open
through her eyes.
"You are too kind, too trusting in your confidence in me, Helen," he
said.
The only reply was from her downcast eyes, and a still warmer blush
which covered the delicate surface of her temples even, and glowed in
silent beauty upon her cheek.
"Helen," continued he by her side in tones of tenderness that were
momentarily becoming more and more gentle, more and more expressive of
the deepest feeling; "Helen, do you remember the days of your childhood,
at home, in far-off England, at home near Bramble Park?"
"Yes, yes," she answered, eagerly. "But why do you speak of those days?"
She looked into his face as she asked, almost as though she could read
his meaning.
"Do you remember Robert Bramble then?"
"Well, well."
"And do you remember his brother, Helen?"
"Gracious heavens, yes!" she quickly answered, almost anticipating his
words.
"Well, Helen, Charles Bramble is before you!"
She did not faint nor utter a shriek at the effect of the powerfully
condensed feelings which crowded upon her heart and senses; but she
stood for one moment gazing at him as though a veil had been removed
from her eyes, recalling in one instant of time the sweet memories of
their childish days together, recalling even the kiss, that last kiss he
had given her years, years before, when he saw her for the last time,
until they met in the broad ocean; she recalled these things and a
thousand more in a moment of time. She remembered how strangely the
tones of his voice had affected her from the outset, how they had seemed
to awaken dreams of the past nearly every time she listened to him.
These things she thought like a flash of mind in one instant, and then,
covering her face with her hands, sobbed aloud!
One moment Charles Bramble stood and looked upon that long-loved,
beautiful form; one moment, like herself, recalled the past, the
sunshine of his childish hours--ay, even the last kiss which she, too,
remembered, now that so much had been recalled; and then he tenderly
drew the weeping, loving girl to his heart, and whispered to her how
dearly he loved her still!