CHAPTER IV.

A PRIZE AND A JOHN BULL.

BUTLER. Footman, why art so happy? Art going to be married?

FOOTMAN. No, meester.

B. Then thou art married already, and art going to be divorced?

F. No, meester.

B. What then?

F. I've drawn a _prize_.

--OLD PLAY.

I was awakened about daylight by a tramping on deck, and presently Tony

Trybrace's shrill boatswain's whistle pealed out, followed almost

immediately by his merry voice with:

"Tumble up! tumble up, you lubbers, if you care for prize-money!"

Every one heard what he said, and every one was on deck in a twinkling.

The morning was just dawning, and, far off, set against the just

brightening sky, a sail was visible. I was rather provoked at having

been summoned up from my nap, because the vessel was a good five miles

off, and, if it was to be a stern chase, a long time would elapse before

we could bring her to. Nevertheless, as I was on deck, and as my watch

would be on hand in an hour, I thought I might as well stay up and see

the thing out.

The men were all stationed, as if for battle, as was the custom of the

captain on the slightest provocation. This was certainly the safest and

wisest plan, but sailors seldom lose a chance for grumbling. Our little

captain himself, however, if he brought the men up to the mark, never

failed to toe it himself. There he was now, pacing the poop in his

merriest mood. He was always familiar with us, and now he had a smart

word for everybody.

"Take a peep through my telescope and tell me what you think of her,

Barney."

This was addressed to me, and as there was quite a compliment in the

request, I was not slow to comply. I sighted the strange craft well and

examined every inch of her as well as the imperfect light would permit.

"Well, well, well," said the captain, impatiently. "What do you make of

her?"

"She's a British brig," I replied. "She was built in London. Her name is

the Boomerang. Her captain's name is George Willis, and she's very

probably loaded with rum and sugar from Jamaica."

The captain was astounded.

"Are you crazy?" he ejaculated.

"I sincerely hope not, captain," was my smiling reply.

"How do you know what you say to be true?"

"Because I made a six months' cruise in that brig, captain, and I know

every spar and ratlin of her from the mizzen-peak to the for'ard

spankers."

"Well, if that is so, you certainly are the Son of a Sea-Cook all over

and a sailor worth promoting," said Captain Joker, laughing as he spoke.

"Clap on more sail!" he bawled. "Let out the r'yals to the full! Loosen

the jib-sheets! I'll catch the stranger if I have to scrape the sky in

doing it."

We sprung into the shrouds, and his orders were promptly executed. The

gale, which had been stiff before, also blew stronger, and we bounded

from crest to crest like a sea-bird under the influence of the fresh

canvas. But when the sun arose we were still three miles from the

stranger, who evidently had a suspicion of our character and was

cracking on all sail for escape. But we now let out our skysails and

came down on her rapidly. Our masts fairly groaned under the added

impulse. We actually seemed lifted from billow to billow, rather than to

plow through them.

At eight bells we were a mile and a half from the flying ship and fired

a shot from our swivel to bring her to. We saw the shot dance off and

kick up the spray right under her bows, but she ran up the Union Jack of

England and kept on her way. Another shot from our bow-gun had no better

effect. We, however, kept on our way, until within a mile, when we let

fly again with the swivel, this time striking the vessel in the stern,

and sending up a shower of splinters. We thought this would bring her

to. But, she was plucky, and seemed determined to show fight. Scarcely

had the boom of our Long Tom died away before a column of smoke shot out

from the stern of the merchantman, and, before we could fairly make up

our minds as to what was going to happen, the end of our bowsprit was

knocked off like a pipe-stem, as well as a big splinter gouged out of

our mainmast by a thirty-two pound shot.

"She's determined not to be taken alive," said Tony Trybrace.

"We'll see about that!" exclaimed our little captain; "just let _me_

have a shy at her with that bow gun!"

With that he jumped down from his station on the poop, sighted the

bow-gun carefully, and, just as we rose majestically on the summit of a

huge wave, let her off. The ball danced over the crests with a charming

ricochet, and we saw it strike the stranger fair and broad in the

mizzenmast, which instantly went by the board, trailing a tangled maze

of rigging and canvas into the sea.

"I thought she'd think better of it, after a little while," exclaimed

the captain, triumphantly, as we saw the ensign of the stranger lowered

in token of surrender, and, at the same time, she hove to. We came on

with a rush, and hauled to close under her bows.

"What ship is that?" bawled Captain Joker through his trumpet.

"The brig, Boomerang, of London," was the reply.

"What are you loaded with?"

"Rum and sugar."

"Just stand where you are, and consider yourself a prize. You were

right, you Son-of-a-Sea-Cook," added the captain, turning to me. "I'll

promote you as soon as I get a chance."

A boat was immediately lowered, placed in command of Pat Pickle, the

second mate, and in her a dozen sailors, I among them, pulled for the

prize. We boarded her, and she came up to our largest expectations. I

here had the satisfaction of renewing my acquaintance with my old

skipper, Captain Willis, as well as with some of the crew. They all

expressed their regret at seeing me in the character of a privateersman,

at which I was not at all put out, but recommended them to merciful

treatment, and succeeded in enlisting three of the crew, who were

Canadians, for a cruise on the Queer Fish.

There was an Englishman on board the Boomerang, who was a passenger, but

as he admitted that he was a consul to the South-American port of Rio de

Janeiro, we made a prisoner of him in short order. This worthy will bear

a brief description. He was one of the most genuine examples of the John

Bull cockney genus it had ever been my fortune to fall in with. Rather

short--about five feet and a half, I should judge--he weighed fully two

hundred pounds, was dressed in the genuine London plaid trowsers, gaiter

shoes and bell-crown hat of the time. His features were red and coarse,

and his hair as red as fire. His name was Mr. Adolphus de Courcy. His

indignation at learning that he was a prisoner was extreme, but, as the

second mate didn't look as if he could bear much bullying, the dignitary

reserved his spleen for the captain's ears.

Well, after we had supplied the Queer Fish with all the rum she would be

likely to consume in the next six months, we put a prize crew on board

the Boomerang, and started her for home, leaving her captain and crew on

board. We brought off Mr. Adolphus de Courcy, determining to keep him

until we should fall in with some American cruiser to whose safe-keeping

we could transfer him. It took several hours to complete all these

arrangements, but they were completed at last, and we rowed back to the

Queer Fish, leaving the prize crew behind us, and, shortly afterward,

the two vessels parted company.

As soon as we were on our own deck once more, Mr. Adolphus de Courcy

strode up to our little captain with a majestic air.

"'Ave I the honor to haddress the captain of this piratical craft?" he

asked in a most grandiloquent way.

"My name is Captain Joker, and this ship, which I have the honor and

good fortune to command, is the Queer Fish, a regular letter-of-marque,

commissioned by the United States Government."

"Wery vell, all I 'ave to say is, as 'ow I consider this transaction a

wery houtrageous haffair; and I demand hinstant release from your

villainous ship."

By this time the Boomerang was a mile or two away, and I saw a merry

gleam in the little eyes of Captain Joker, which was premonitory of some

fun.

"How can I release you now, sir?" said he, with an air of some concern.

"No matter 'ow, sir, I demand hinstant release from this willainous

wessel," exclaimed the cockney, thinking that he had succeeded in

browbeating the captain, and that he should now have it all his own way.

"I understand you to mean what you say?" asked the captain.

"Hexactly!" was the lofty reply. "I demand a hinstantaneous deliverance

from this wile captivity! I demand it as a peaceable citizen of hold

Hingland, whose broad hægis is powerful alike hon the land hand hon the

briny deep."

"All right, sir, you shall have your wish: only be careful that you do

not change your mind, as it will be of no use. Trybrace!" added Captain

Joker, singing out to the boatswain: "have that ar little gig

provisioned for two days, put in this little man's luggage, then put

_him_ in, and cut him loose. He wants to leave the Queer Fish."

"Ay, ay, sir," sung out Tony, cheery as a cricket; and he immediately

set about giving the necessary directions.

"I wish you a good-morning, sir," and, with this Captain Joker bowed

courteously to the cockney, and retired to the precincts.

Mr. Adolphus de Courcy appeared at first unable to comprehend what was

to be done with him; but, when the truth dawned that he really was to be

turned adrift, he seemed perfectly stunned.

"Vill you 'ave the kindness to hexplain this 'ere little harrangement?"

he said, going up to Tony, who was busily superintending the outfit of

the little boat.

"Ain't got no time, sir. The captain's orders were positive, and he

ain't in the habit of repeating them. Clew up that gearing at the bows,

you lubbers. And caulk up that 'ere seam in the labbard side. Do you

suppose the gentleman wants ter go to Davy Jones's Locker afore he gits

well started on his way? Put in the water and the sea-biscuit. Now for

the gentleman's luggage. All right! Lower her!"

The arrangements were all completed, and the little craft was lowered

from the davits over the stern. She was so small, and her cargo was so

great, that she settled down almost to the gunwales, and it was

questionable how long she would float after the bulky form of the

cockney should have occupied the small amount of room left vacant for

him at the stern.

We all preserved a solemn silence. The wretched Englander kept

flattering himself that it was a good joke until the final preparations

left no room for a doubt.

"All ready, sir," said Tony, touching his hat respectfully. "Will yer

Honor be pleased to step inter yer Honor's craft?"

"Ha! ha! a wery good joke hindeed!" exclaimed the cockney, with a forced

laugh. "A wery good joke! 'Ave you got out a patent for it? I should

like to 'ave it, to hintroduce into hold Hingland."

"It's no joke at all, yer Honor," said Tony, as sober as a judge. "Will

yer Honor condescend to make haste? We cain't stand in the middle of the

ocean in this way, while there's so much prize-money lyin' about loose."

"My wery good friend," said De Courcy, taking the boatswain

affectionately by the hand, "'ave you the serious intention of perwiding

a fellow 'uman being with such han houtfit, and consigning him to the

mercy of the wast and 'eaving hocean?"

"Them's the orders, sir."

"I then demand to see the captain of this willainous craft

hinstantaneously."

"All right, sir. Dicky Drake, jist tell the skipper as how the gentleman

wants to bid him good-by."

The message was sent, and Captain Joker made his appearance almost

immediately. His face was beaming with cordial farewells as he advanced

with outstretched hand toward the dumfounded De Courcy.

"Good-by! good-by, my dear fellow, and a prosperous voyage!" he

exclaimed, shaking him warmly by the hand.

"Captain, I vant to know as 'ow--"

"No thanks! no thanks! my dear sir: I make you a present of the boat.

There, there, good-by!" and the captain, in the zeal of his farewell,

almost thrust the poor fellow over the bulwarks.

"But," persisted the latter, "I vant to know as 'ow--"

"I tell you I will not hear any thanks at all! There, there, farewell!"

The crew now crowded forward, with similar well-wishes, and the

unfortunate cockney was fairly hustled over the ship's side into the

frail gig, which was almost swamped by his weight.

"There are the oars, sir," sung out the captain. "I hope you will find

them easy to your hands. Farewell! _Bon voyage!_ Cut her loose, lads!"

The order was executed at once, and the boat, with its occupant, drifted

off. At the same moment we let out our main sheet and continued on our

course. We looked back over the stern, and saw the little boat going up

and down, in and out of the troughs of the great swells, with its

occupant sitting in the stern, looking the very picture of despair.

You needn't suppose that Captain Joker was cruel enough to leave the

cockney in this predicament. He merely wanted to learn him a lesson in

good manners. And, just as the gig and its occupant were almost cut of

sight, we rounded to and bore down for her, tacking against the strong

breeze. To show you the captain's kindness of heart, just as we were

preparing to round to, a sail was signaled on our starboard bow. Ten

chances to one it was another prize, and the temptations to keep on our

course were exceedingly strong in us all, especially in the skipper, who

was as fond of prize-money as any man I ever saw. Nevertheless, he

ordered us to round to and bear up for the gig. The mean old dog of a

first mate undertook to argue him into leaving the Englishman to his

fate, when he was met with a stern rebuke.

"Mr. Saunders," (that was the name of the first mate) said he, "if you

have nothing but such heartless cruelty to urge, I will beg you to defer

your suggestions to a more fitting occasion. I am compelled to say, sir,

that your heartlessness-not to say avarice--is astonishing, sir,

astonishing!"

But the merry captain could not remain long in a bad humor, even with

such a flinty-minded old Sawney as Saunders. When we had got pretty

close to the gig, the forlorn, disconsolate aspect of Adolphus de Courcy

was too much for a mirth loving nature to endure with solemnity, and

Joker burst into laughter, as did the entire ship's company, who were

all congregated forward, looking over the bows.

At a look from the captain, Tony Trybrace sung out:

"Would your Honor like to come aboard?"

A motion of the Britisher's head signified his assent to the

proposition, and, with great difficulty, owing to the roughness of the

running sea, we grappled the boat, and hoisted the entire compoodle, bag

and baggage, to the deck of the Queer Fish.

The cockney had long ago resigned himself to despair, and when he found

himself safe and dry at last, the revulsion was too great, and he burst

into tears.

Captain Joker went up and took him by the hand, kindly.

"My dear fellow," said he, "I had no intention of cutting you adrift

more than temporarily. It seemed to me that the tone which you assumed

to me, on board my ship, was so very extraordinary for a prisoner to

address his captor with, that a little lesson of this kind would not be

bestowed in vain. Trust me, my dear sir, if I have caused you any pain,

you compelled me to do so, and I'm sorry for it. As long as you remain

upon my ship, pray consider my cabin your own. I would treat you as a

guest rather than as a prisoner. Pray dine with me to-day. And dinner is

almost on the table."

This magnanimity almost crushed the poor prisoner. He dried his tears,

and said in a much manlier voice than heretofore, as he grasped the hand

of his generous foe:

"Captain, you 'ave the goodness to treat me like ha gentleman. This 'ere

is returning good for evil vith a wengeance, hand I beg to hacknowledge

that I ham halmost crushed by your noble hand belated sentiments."

With that, they went down into the cabin together, and, from the way we

heard the corks popping, they must have had a jolly time.

The lesson was not lost upon the cockney. His tone to everybody was

thereafter greatly improved. He remained for some time with us, and,

though we were frequently amused at his vanity and his antipathy to the

letter H, we found him, in the main, a pretty good fellow.

Barney Blake, the Boy Privateer; or, The Cruise of the Queer Fish · 第 4 / 17 章