A CONDITIONAL SURRENDER.

I had just definitely arrived at the above conclusion when the boatswain

joined me.

"I see Mr Wilde have been havin' another yarn with ye, Mr Troubridge,"

he remarked, as he seated himself at my side.

"Yes," I answered shortly.

"And is there any chance of his bein' able to persuade ye to give us the

help we wants?" he enquired in conciliatory tones.

"There might be, perhaps, if all hands of you were willing to agree to

my terms," I answered, stubbornly determined to drive the best bargain

possible.

"Ah!" he exclaimed with an air of satisfaction; "that sounds better;

yes, a good deal better, it do. You say what them terms of yours be,

Mr Troubridge, and I dare say I could very soon give ye a hidea whether

we'd be willin' to agree to 'em. You won't find us noways unreasonable,

sir, I promise ye, because we wants your help badly, and there's no use

in pretendin' that we don't. You've proved yourself to be a hefficient

navigator, and me and Chips has quite made up our minds that we might go

farther and fare a precious sight worse in the way of findin' somebody

to take your place. Besides, we don't want no murder if we can anyways

help it, and I know that all hands in the fo'c's'le'd be willin' to

agree to a'most anything in reason to dodge that sort of thing."

"Do you really mean that, Polson?" I demanded. "Because, if so, it is

a very great pity that you did not frankly say so when this matter was

first broached. Besides, although you sailors may be inclined to listen

to reason, you must remember that you cannot answer for Wilde and the

rest of the emigrants--"

"Oh, but I think we can, Mr Troubridge!" interrupted the boatswain.

"Ye see, sir, it's this way," he continued. "We sailormen are the

masters of the sittyation, as the sayin' is. Wilde and his lot can't do

nothin' without our help; they can't navigate the ship, and they can't

handle her; there ain't one of 'em knows enough to be able so much as

clew up a r'yal, or take in the flyin' jib; so if they wants to carry

out their plan, they'll have to agree to the same as what we does, d'ye

see? And we're willin' to agree to anything reasonable as you may want

to propose."

This sudden complaisance on the part of the boatswain put a very

different complexion upon the whole affair, and was infinitely better

than I had dared to hope. With the entire crew at my back I ought to

have no difficulty in keeping Wilde and his lot in their proper places;

and--well, the sea has many surprises for those who follow it, and who

could know what might happen? But it was no part of my policy to betray

to this man the extreme satisfaction which his words had given me, and

thus, perhaps, subtly suggest to him the idea that he had displayed more

flexibility than was actually necessary to secure my co-operation. I

therefore said:

"Well, whichever way the affair goes, I am at least glad to hear you say

that the ship's crew are willing to agree to any reasonable proposition

that I may make; but that still remains to be seen. You and I may

differ in our ideas as to what is reasonable, you know."

"Ay, of course we may; but I don't think it's at all likely as we shall,

sir," answered the boatswain. "You state your conditions, Mr

Troubridge, and I'll soon tell ye whether they seems reasonable or not."

"Very well," said I, "I will. If I understand the ins and outs of this

affair, Wilde has persuaded all hands aboard this ship, seamen and

emigrants alike, to seek out some suitable island, whereon you can try

the experiment of living the ideal life of the Socialist. You are, one

and all, absolutely determined to give this fantastic experiment a

trial; and you desire me to help you to the extent of finding the island

for you. Is that it?"

"That's it, sir; yes, that's it; you've got it hit off to a

happigraphy," agreed the boatswain.

"Then listen to the conditions upon which I am willing to do what you

require of me," said I. "The sort of island that you people desire is

only to be found--if found at all--in an ocean that is at present

comparatively unknown, and is full of dangers in the shape of rocks,

shoals, and islands, the position of which is doubtful, as shown by the

charts, while there are doubtless many others that have never yet been

sighted, and which a ship, bound upon such an errand as ours, is liable

to blunder up against at any hour of the day or night. To navigate

successfully a ship among such dangers as these it is imperative that

there should be one person--and one only--as the supreme head, to whom

all the rest shall render the most implicit, unquestioning obedience;

and I demand to be that one, with you and the carpenter as first and

second mates. I must command the ship, and nobody must presume to

interfere with or dictate to me in any way. Secondly, the crew must

undertake to observe and maintain strict discipline, both among

themselves and also among the emigrants if need be. And, thirdly, I

decline--nay, I absolutely refuse--to acknowledge Wilde's authority. He

may be your king, or president, or whatever he chooses to call himself,

as soon as your island is found and all hands are ashore; but until

then--so far, at least, as I am concerned--he is only a passenger. Now,

those are the terms upon which I am willing to undertake the service you

require of me; and you may take them or leave them, just as you please."

"They seems reasonable enough, I won't deny it," admitted Polson, "and I

dare say as everybody'll be willin' enough to agree to 'em, all except

Wilde, I mean. I know he won't like the hidea of not bein' allowed to

hinterfere until we arrives at the hiland. Can't ye make that there

part a trifle easier, Mr Troubridge?"

"No," said I resolutely, "on no account whatever; on the contrary, that

is the proviso upon which I shall insist most strongly. Wilde may be an

excellent schoolmaster, for aught I know to the contrary, but he is

neither a seaman nor a navigator; and I will never consent to his being

allowed to interfere, either directly or indirectly, with matters of

which he possesses no knowledge. You cannot have two captains to one

ship, you know. If he is to be captain you will have no need of me; but

if I am to be captain I will not allow anyone--and least of all a

landsman--to interfere with me."

"Ay, ay, Mr Troubridge, yes, I can see now as you are quite right,"

agreed the boatswain. "It wouldn't never do to have him hinterferin'

and givin' horders about things he don't understand. If he was allowed

to do it there's others as would soon want to do the same, and then we

should soon all be in a pretty mess. D'ye mind writin' them conditions

of yours down upon a sheet of paper, so as I can read 'em out to all

hands, sir? And if they agree to 'em I'll get 'em to sign the paper and

then I'll hand it back to you."

"Very well," said I; "that arrangement will do excellently. And, see

here, Polson, if all you seamen are willing to sign, I don't care a

brass button whether the emigrants do or not. If you men for'ard are

all agreed that those conditions of mine are just and reasonable, we

need not trouble ourselves as to what the emigrants think of them,

because, you know, they can't take the ship from us, however

dissatisfied they may be."

"No, no, in course they can't, Mr Troubridge," agreed the boatswain,

grinning appreciatively, as though the helplessness of the emigrants was

a fact that had not hitherto occurred to him.

We had now thrashed the matter out, and I had succeeded in bringing

Polson into a far more pliant frame of mind than I had ever dared to

hope for. I therefore determined to clinch the matter at once, by

putting my demands into black-and-white, and securing the signatures of

the crew to them before the boatswain, who was evidently a man of

influence among them, should find time to alter his view of the affair.

I consequently sprang to my feet and, bidding my companion await my

return, descended to my own cabin, and, carefully wording the document,

drew up a form of agreement between myself on the one part and the crew

and passengers of the _Mercury_ on the other. Then, returning with it

to the poop, I placed the paper in Polson's hand, after reading it over

to him, and requested him to obtain first the signatures of the crew to

it, beginning with himself and the carpenter, and then those of the

emigrants; afterwards returning the document to me. It cost him nearly

three hours strenuous work to secure the signatures of the entire crew

and the emigrants to the agreement; for in the first place he found the

occupants of the forecastle, one and all, very unwilling--as is the case

with most illiterate people--to pledge themselves by attaching their

signatures or marks to my memorandum, although it was read over and

explained to them at least half a dozen times, so that they thoroughly

understood the nature of it, and verbally expressed themselves as fully

approving of each of the conditions.

At length, however, by dint of much persuasion the boatswain secured the

signature or mark of every occupant of the forecastle, after which he

entered the 'tween-decks and, summoning the whole of the emigrants to

meet him, fully explained the situation to them, read over the

agreement, and then, laying the document upon the table, demanded their

signatures to it. But here, again, he encountered a quite unexpected

amount of opposition, Wilde stepping forward and not only refusing to

attach his own signature to the paper, but also forbidding any of the

other emigrants to do so. Polson argued, pleaded, and cajoled, but all

in vain. Nothing that he could say appeared to have the slightest

effect upon his audience, although several declared their perfect

readiness to sign if their leader would but accord his permission. It

was not until at length, with his patience completely exhausted, he

suddenly determined upon the adoption of what, to him, seemed a

thoroughly desperate expedient, that he achieved even a partial success.

Dashing the paper down with vehemence upon the table, he exclaimed

wrathfully:

"Now, listen to me, the lot of ye. Chips and me and all hands in the

fo'c's'le has signed this here doccyment because, havin' thought it all

over, we're agreed that Mr Troubridge is quite right in demandin' what

he do. Mr Wilde there objects to it because he ain't allowed to

interfere with and dictate to Mr Troubridge, and none of you won't sign

because Mr Wilde won't let ye. Now, I'll give ye all ten minutes

longer to make up your minds, and if you haven't signed by that time we

sailormen won't have no more truck with ye, but'll go to Mr Troubridge

and tell 'im he can take the ship to Sydney, where she's bound to."

This announcement, coming quite unexpectedly, fell like a bombshell

among Polson's audience, who had dwelt upon the idea of life in an

island where perpetual summer reigns, and where Nature offers many of

her choicest gifts almost unsolicited, until it had taken such complete

possession of them that it had come to represent to them the one

desirable thing in the whole world, to lose which would be to lose

everything. In a perfect passion of consternation they turned upon

Wilde and not only claimed their right to sign, but also insisted that

he should conform to Polson's demand and be the first among them to

affix his signature. Subjected to such pressure as this there was of

course but one thing for him to do; and he did it; but the next moment

he dashed up on deck, sprang up the poop ladder, and, approaching me,

shook his clenched fist in my face as he exclaimed, almost foaming at

the mouth:

"You young scoundrel! I have signed that precious document of yours

because that fool Polson left me no option. But wait until we arrive at

the island and my power begins, and then I'll make you--"

"Hold your tongue, sir, and go down off this poop!" I exclaimed,

springing to my feet in a rage, for the fellow at the helm was grinning

broadly at the scene. "And if you dare to come up here again without

being sent for I'll kick you down on to the main deck, and then have you

put in irons. Ay, and I'll do so now if you dare to answer me. Be off

with you now, quick!"

I never in all my life saw a man so completely taken aback as was this

crazy schoolmaster when I tackled him. Amazement, incredulity, wounded

vanity, indignation, and bodily fear seemed all to be struggling

together to assert themselves in his countenance and to find articulate

expression upon his tongue; but fear was the strongest of them all--the

fear that he might be actually subjected to the unspeakable indignity of

personal violence. And when, as I uttered the final words, I advanced a

step toward him, as though about to carry out my threat, he suddenly

turned tail and slunk off like a whipped cur.

Some time later, when Polson, having at length accomplished his mission,

brought me the signed agreement--which of course I knew was, as a

binding document, not worth the paper upon which it was written,

although I still hoped that it might be to some extent effective--I

related to him the little incident that had occurred between Wilde and

myself; at which he expressed some concern, although he fully agreed

with me that the schoolmaster--at all events while aboard ship and at

sea--must be held as amenable to discipline as anyone else, and that it

would never do to give him the least bit more liberty than we were

prepared to accord to every one of the other emigrants. Having secured

which admission from the boatswain, I sent there and then for the

steward and ordered him at once to bundle Wilde's belongings out of the

cabin back to the 'tween-decks.

During the second dogwatch, that same evening, Wilde sought out the

boatswain and carpenter, and complained to them of what he termed my

tyrannical conduct, which, he represented to his two listeners, was of

so grossly humiliating a character that it was calculated very seriously

to detract from his influence with his followers. So serious a

grievance did he make of it that at length Polson and Tudsbery

approached me with something in the nature of a remonstrance,

accompanied by a mildly offered suggestion that I should concede

something to enable Wilde to preserve his dignity. Probably I should

have been wiser to have accepted and acted upon this suggestion; but I

had got the idea into my head that the matter had resolved itself into a

struggle for supremacy between Wilde and myself, and I obstinately

refused to yield a hairbreadth, thereby exciting the permanent hostility

not only of Wilde himself, but also--as I afterward found--of several of

his followers. The boatswain and carpenter were at first disposed to

regard me as unnecessarily firm, but this feeling soon yielded to one of

quiet gratification that they had, as leader, one who, young as he was,

would not submit to dictation from anybody. And I feel convinced that

whatever I may have lost in popularity I more than regained in the shape

of power and authority, thereby averting--as I soon had reason to

believe--many a serious dispute and quarrel between the widely

conflicting elements that were confined so closely together in the ship.

The terms upon which I was to command the _Mercury_ having at length

been arranged upon as satisfactory a basis as I could reasonably expect,

I now found time to give consideration to my plans for the future. As

my hope that the wild scheme of the conspirators might be frustrated,

and the ship and her cargo restored to their lawful owners, rested

almost entirely upon the possibility that we might fall in with a

British man-o'-war, the first question to which I devoted my attention

was that of the route which I should choose by which to reach the

Pacific. There were two alternative routes open to me; one--and that,

perhaps, rather the safer of the two from the navigator's point of

view--to the south and east of Australia, then northward between the

Solomon and Admiralty groups to the waters wherein our search for a sort

of earthly Paradise was to be prosecuted; and the rather shorter but

more dangerous route up the western coast of Australia, then through the

Ombay Passage into the Banda Sea, and thence, through the Boeroe Strait,

into the Molucca or the Gillolo Passage, the successful negotiation of

either of which would bring us to the spot where our search was to

commence. If the question of ease and safety of navigation had alone

been concerned, I should have unhesitatingly chosen the former; but when

I came to weigh the comparative chances of falling in with a British

man-o'-war, it did not take me long to make up my mind that the closer I

could hug the Philippines, and the longer I could remain in their

neighbourhood, the more likely should I be to encounter something

belonging to the China station, and I accordingly settled upon the

second alternative. This choice had the further advantage that, being

the shorter of the two routes, it gratified all hands, none of whom was

intelligent enough to understand and appreciate the question of the

comparative dangers of the two routes, or to consider that, by adopting

the one which met with their approval, the risk of encountering a man-

o'-war--and thus having all their plans knocked on the head--was very

greatly increased. Naturally, I did not enlighten them.

It was the season of the north-east monsoon in the Indian Ocean, and a

careful study of the chart and directory made it clear to me that the

proper course to pursue was to run down our easting until 100 degrees

east longitude should be reached, and then, still availing ourselves to

the utmost of such westerly wind as might be met with, haul gradually up

to the northward in the West Australian current, which has a northerly

set. Accordingly, I kept the ship's bowsprit pointing steadily to the

eastward, despite the violent remonstrances which Wilde addressed to the

boatswain and the carpenter--he had never spoken to me since I had

ordered him off the poop and turned him out of the cabin. For the first

few days I was rather afraid that I was going to have a little trouble

with these two men, for whenever Wilde complained to them that I was

unnecessarily prolonging the voyage by steering east instead of north-

east--which, according to his crude notions, I ought to have done--they

came to me, reiterating the man's complaints, and evincing so much

curiosity and suspicion that it was perfectly evident they did not trust

me. But I quickly arrived at the conviction that, let my relations with

Wilde be what they might, it was absolutely necessary that I should

possess the full confidence of the boatswain and the carpenter--and,

through them, of the whole crew. I therefore took considerable pains to

make them clearly understand my reasons for acting as I did, after which

I had no further trouble with them.

I very soon had reason to congratulate myself upon the adoption of this

policy; for while my relations with the crew daily grew more

satisfactory--so that had it not been for the ridiculous hopes of a life

of perfect liberty, equality, and immunity from hard work with which

Wilde had addled their brains, I might easily have won their consent to

take the ship to her legitimate destination--Wilde was devoting his

entire energies to the task of stirring up and fomenting a spirit of

lawlessness and insubordination among his fellow emigrants, chiefly--as

it seemed to me--with the object of causing me as much annoyance and

trouble as possible.

At length, however, matters came to such a pass that I perceived it

would be absolutely necessary for me to seize the first opportunity that

offered to assert myself and put an end to a state of affairs that was

fast becoming utterly unendurable; and that opportunity was not long in

coming.

It arose in this wise. There was among the passengers a girl named

Grace Hartley, about twenty-three years of age, of considerable personal

attractions, well-educated, and of a very gentle and amiable

disposition. She had been a governess in England, and had been engaged

by an agent to proceed to Australia to take a similar position in a

family out there; and it was, perhaps, the indifferent treatment which

she had received at the hands of her former employers that had caused

her tacitly to accept the alternative which Wilde's scheme offered her.

Be that as it may, she had apparently raised no protest when the scheme

was first mooted, nor subsequently. What sort of life she was really

looking forward to upon the island for which we were about to search I

do not believe that even she herself could have explained. Probably her

philosophy might have been expressed in the phrase: "Sufficient unto the

day is the evil thereof". She soon discovered, however, that the future

would not permit itself to be shelved in this offhand fashion; there

were certain problems that persisted in thrusting themselves upon her

notice with increasing frequency, and one of them was--marriage! The

idea of creating a Utopia necessarily included that of establishing the

home life and domestic happiness. There were two men in particular who

forced her to give some thought to this detail, one of whom was Wilde,

and the other an able seaman named Gurney--the latter quite as

remarkable a man in his way as was Wilde in his, though the ways of the

two men were totally dissimilar; for Gurney, while wonderfully popular

with his mates in the forecastle, was so entirely different from them in

every respect that they admiringly nicknamed him "The Swell", which will

perhaps enable the reader to make a mental sketch of him. He and Wilde

had both made formal proposals of marriage to Miss Hartley--the ceremony

to be performed as speedily as might be after our arrival at Utopia; but

she had thus far accepted neither, although, as might be expected, of

the two men she was rather disposed to favour Gurney. Wilde, however,

was not at all the sort of man to accept a rebuff tamely, indeed his

vanity was so stupendous that he could not understand another being

preferred before himself. He consequently plagued the poor girl so

persistently that at length, in desperation, she came aft to me, laying

all the circumstances before me, and begging my protection. I answered

by directing her to remove herself, bag and baggage, to the after cabin,

assigning to her one of the spare staterooms therein, and permitting her

to take her meals at the cabin table. Whereby I greatly strengthened

Wilde's enmity toward me, but at the same time secured two devoted

adherents, namely, the girl and Gurney; and a time came--as I sometimes

suspected it would--when I was more than glad to have them on my side,

instead of against me.

Overdue: The Story of a Missing Ship · 第 12 / 42 题