THE STRANGER COMES ON BOARD--THE GREEK CHIEF--A WHITE SQUALL--WHAT HAS
BECOME OF THE BRIG?--THE SUSPICIOUS STRANGER AGAIN--PREPARATIONS FOR A
FIGHT.
The advice Porpoise gave seemed so rational that although it might have
gone somewhat against the grain with so thorough a John Bull as Hearty
to put himself in a posture of defence before he was attacked, Snow was
summoned aft to superintend the distribution of the contents of the
arm-chest. The men buckled on their cutlasses with looks of no small
glee, snapping the locks of their pistols to try them before loading, as
they eyed the advancing boat.
"There's no fear, gentlemen, but what they'd give an account of twice
the number of chaps as are aboard that craft, if they ever come to close
quarters," said Snow, approvingly casting his eye over the crew.
I could not help thinking the same, for a finer set of broad-shouldered,
wide-chested fellows I never saw, as they stood around us with their
necks bare, and the sleeves of their blue shirts tucked up above the
elbows, handling their weapons with the fond look which a child bestows
on a newly-given toy.
"Go forward again, my men, and keep on the opposite side to which the
boat comes," said Porpoise.
"Just stand about as if you did not suspect there was any thing wrong;
very likely there may not be, you know, and perhaps the Greek has lost
his reckoning, and is sending aboard us only to ask his whereabouts."
"A craft like that wouldn't send away a boat with twelve men in her, or
more, to ask such a question," observed Snow to old Sleet; "I know
better nor that."
"You may well say so," answered the old man. "I've heard of such rum
tricks being played, that I always like to be prepared for squalls."
I must say that after the strange misgivings I had experienced in the
early part of the day, when the polacca-brig first hove in sight, I was
well satisfied to see the yacht put in a perfect state of defence. It
was more than possible that the stranger might after all be an honest
trader, and that her crew might be not a little surprised to find an
English yacht with so formidable an appearance. Still again, I have
always seen the wisdom of not despising an antagonist, and of being as
prepared as circumstances will allow for any emergency.
The boat, a heavy launch, was meantime advancing towards us. I examined
her narrowly with my glass; she had what looked very like a gun mounted
in the bows, though a capote, or piece of dark canvas, was thrown over
it. She pulled twelve oars, beside which three or four other people sat
in the stern-sheets. I observed Porpoise, who had been, as may be
supposed, attentively watching the boat, go up to the foremost gun, and
draw the shot.
"Carpenter," said he, to Chips, "bring me up a shovel of old nails and
bits of iron."
The articles in question were soon brought to him, and he proceeded
forthwith to load the gun with them up to the muzzle.
"Sleet," said he, "you have charge of this gun; if our friends there
show fight, and I give the word, slap this mouthful right in among them;
it will soon bring them to reason, I guess."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the old man, slapping the breech of his gun with
a quiet smile, "I'll make her speak, depend on't."
Thus prepared, we awaited the arrival of the suspicious-looking
strangers. Had there been any wind, we might easily have prevented
their coming on board by running out of their way, but as it was we
could not help ourselves without fighting. In a few minutes more they
pulled alongside, rather awkwardly; however, we did not order them to
keep off, as it was agreed it would not be wise to show any suspicion of
them. They were all dressed in the Greek costume; one of the men who
sat in the stern-sheets, a full-bearded fellow, with a capote thrown
over his shoulders and a fez on his head, stood up in the boat, and in
broken English asked to come on board.
"Oh! let him," said Hearty, who began to fancy we had been
over-cautious. "There can't possibly be any harm."
The side was accordingly manned, and our friend with the capote,
followed by two less ill-looking fellows, stepped unceremoniously on
board.
"I speak to de captain," said the stranger, in a blunt tone.
"I am the captain, at your service," answered Porpoise, standing before
him, and preventing his farther advance on deck.
"Oh! I come to know where you come from," said the Greek stranger,
casting his eyes furtively round the deck, as if to discover the state
of defence in which we might be.
The look of our sturdy fellows, with their cutlasses by their sides,
might possibly have surprised him, and at all events he must have seen
that there was little chance of surprising us.
"We come from England," answered Porpoise, bluntly. "A civil question
requires a civil answer, but I don't know by what right you ask it."
"Where you bound for?" continued the Greek, not noticing the last remark
it seemed.
"Malta, Alexandria, Smyrna, and a few other places up the Levant," said
Porpoise.
"Ah! will you take letter for me? You do me great favour," said the
Greek, putting his hand in his bosom.
While the Greek was speaking, I had been eyeing him narrowly from the
after-part of the vessel, where I had placed myself. Most of my readers
have heard of the famed Vanderdecken, the terrible Flying Dutchman, who
in his phantom ship goes cruising about to the southward of the Cape of
Good Hope, sailing right into the eye of the heaviest gale. When he
falls in with a vessel, he comes aboard, and requests a packet he
presents may be taken on shore. Just such another as Vanderdecken did
our present visitor appear, except that the Dutchman is habited in a
somewhat different costume to the Greek, in broad-brimmed hat,
big-buttoned waistcoat, and wide breeches. By the way Porpoise looked
at him, I had a notion some such idea was passing through his mind.
Perhaps he suspected that the gentleman had a pistol instead of a letter
inside the folds of his vest. The boat's crew meantime sat scowling at
us, and surveying the vessel with a no friendly look; I guessed, indeed,
that nothing would have given them greater pleasure than to have been
able to jump on board, and to cut all our throats.
"We shall be happy to take your letter or any commands on shore,"
answered Porpoise, putting his hand in his pocket in imitation of the
Greek.
The stranger furtively eyed the movement of his hand, as much as to say,
"Why, have you got a pistol there likewise?"
However, withdrawing his own hand from his bosom, he exclaimed, "Ah! I
have by some omission left my letter on board."
The man spoke with as downright an English pronunciation as I ever heard
in my life. Pretty well for a Greek, thought I, stepping forward to
examine his features more narrowly. I had had my suspicions from the
time he stepped on board; so, it appeared, had Tom Newton. There could
be very little doubt about the matter; the man who stood before us in
the guise of a Greek, was no other than the _ci-devant_ pirate--slaver--
smuggler, the outlaw Miles Sandgate. I thought his keen eye glanced at
my countenance for a moment, as if he recognised me; but so completely
did he maintain his self-possession, that he did not exhibit the
slightest sign of fear or hesitation. He bit his lips though, as if he
found that he had betrayed himself by speaking English too fluently, and
he instantly fell back into his former mode of expression. Porpoise had
either not remarked his slip of the tongue, or thought it best not to
comment on it.
"I go send letter aboard," he continued, stepping back a pace as if to
be ready to spring into his boat. His crew in the mean time had begun
to vociferate something I could not understand. He replied to them in
the same language, and I have no doubt it was to tell them that their
enterprise was fruitless, and that it was not quite so easy to catch the
crew of an English yacht napping as they might have supposed. He still
hesitated to take his departure. Some plan or other was passing through
his fertile, ever-active brain. Perhaps he did not suspect that I had
recognised him. However, whatever might have been his intentions, he
was summoned hurriedly into the boat by his crew. He turned hastily
round and cast his eye to the northward, so did I and Porpoise. There,
rising out of the water as it were, was a small white cloud, which, as
we looked, every instant increased in size.
"You'd better shorten sail, or you'll repent it," exclaimed the seeming
Greek, as he leaped into his boat.
The crew pulled lustily away in the direction of their own vessel.
Nothing comes on so rapidly and gives so little time for preparation as
does a white squall in the Mediterranean. Porpoise, taking the advice
offered, gave the necessary orders. All hands rushed to the halliards
and downhauls, but before a rope could be let go the squall was upon us.
A drill of white foam came rushing towards the cutter, driven on by
some irresistible power, which at the same time curled up the whole
hitherto calm and shining sea into rolling, breaking waves. Our eyes
were almost blinded with the salt mist which dashed over us. Terrific
was the blow we received. The cutter having no steerage-way offered a
dead resistance to it. Over she went as does a stately tree, its stem
cut through by the woodman's deadly axe and saw.
"Hold on! hold on for your lives!" sung out Porpoise.
There was good reason. I thought she would never rise again. The water
rose up her decks. We began to look at boats and spars as the only hope
of safety. Then shrouds and stays and bolts gave way, and the stout
mast cracked off at the deck with a loud crash; and the little craft
rising on an even keel floated in safety, but presented a forlorn wreck
compared to the gay and gallant trim in which she had lately appeared.
Not a moment was to be lost in ascertaining whether the cutter had
received any vital damage, and in endeavouring to put her to rights.
Everybody was busily engaged in the work. Hearty and our landsmen
friends took the matter very coolly.
"Just sing out where you want us to lend a hand, and we are four men,"
cried Hearty, pulling and hauling away with a will, while we were
getting in the wreck of our mast and spars.
The drag of the rigging astern brought the vessel up into the wind's
eye, and then she lay pitching and bobbing away into the short seas,
sending the spray flying over us like a regular shower-bath, and
surrounding us with a mist impervious to the sight. It was heavy work,
and as part of the bulwarks had been knocked away there was no little
danger of being washed overboard. Where, however, all labour with a
will, the hardest task is soon performed; and no fellows could have
worked harder than did our crew of yachtsmen. Before, however, the
craft was in any way put to rights, the squall and its effects on the
sea had completely passed away, but night coming down had shrouded us in
total darkness. No one had thought of the Greek brig or her boat, and
now not a glimpse of either was to be perceived.
What had become of her? Had the boat with the rascal Sandgate been
swamped? Had the brig been caught by the squall and gone down? Such
had been the fate of many a craft in the Mediterranean. When we had got
the yacht somewhat to rights we made inquiries among the men, but no one
had observed her. Old Sleet, it was said, had watched the boat pulling
away for her even during the hurly-burly of the squall. I therefore
called him up to examine him more particularly.
"When we was on our beam-ends, and I thought we was over for good, still
I couldn't help keeping my eye on the boat," said the old man; "I can't
say as how I liked the look of that ere curious chap the Greek captain
who came aboard us, and as for his crew, a bigger set of cut-throats I
never saw. Well, thinks I to myself, if the boat goes to the bottom,
and all her people goes in her, there's no great harm done: but if she
floats and gains the brig, they may just come back when we are not
prepared for them, and try to knock us all on the head; but, says I to
myself, there's no use talking about it, for the gentlemen won't believe
such a thing possible, and I shall only get laughed at for my pains."
I was very much inclined to agree with the old man, that if our Greek
friend had escaped drowning, and could discover our whereabout, he would
be apt to try his hand at playing us some scurvy trick; but I said
nothing to this effect. I, however, resolved to speak to Porpoise, so
that we might be prepared to resist any attack he might attempt to make
on us. Porpoise was rather inclined to laugh at my fears.
"My belief is that the fellow went to the bottom," he replied. "Serve
him right, too, if he is the rascal you suppose him; or if he got aboard
his ship he saw enough of us to know that we should prove rather a tough
morsel, should he attempt to swallow us."
A council of war having been called, it was resolved that we should try
to get back to Gibraltar as fast as we could. To effect this, however,
it would be necessary to rig jury-masts, and this could not very well be
done till daylight. We proposed turning the cutter into a schooner or
lugger, and happily, as we had saved most of our spars and canvas, we
expected to have no great difficulty in getting sufficient sail on her
to navigate with ease the poor little closely-shorn craft.
I have often had in my naval career to pass through nights of toil and
anxiety, and this gave every promise of being one of that character. In
a few hours we had gathered in all our ruffled feathers, or, in other
words, our masts and spars and sails and rigging; and having stowed them
along the decks as best we could, there we lay floating helplessly like
a log on the water. Not having discarded my suspicions of the
polacca-brig, notwithstanding my fatigue I felt no inclination to go to
sleep. I now was left in charge of the deck while Porpoise and the rest
of my messmates turned in, all standing. I walked the deck for some
time, ever and anon turning my gaze upward to the dark blue vault of
heaven glittering with a thousand stars, each but a centre of some
mighty system, each more complex and marvellous, probably, than our own.
I thought of the all-potent Being who made them as well as all the
wondrous specimens of animal life which dwell on this globe we call our
own, and my heart swelled with gratitude to Him who had preserved me and
my shipmates from the danger to which we had been exposed. My spirit,
as I thought, seemed to take its flight through the calm atmosphere, and
to wander far far away among those distant spheres. How long it was
away I know not. I was not conscious of the existence of my body on the
surface of the globe. A splash aroused me from my reveries. It was
caused by a fish leaping out of its liquid home to avoid some monster of
the deep wishing to make a supper off it. It called me back to earth
and things earthly. My first impulse was to cast my eye round the
horizon. It was rather a circumscribed one at that hour of darkness.
Once I made the full circuit and could see nothing. I took a few more
turns on deck, and again I swept my eye round the watery circle more
slowly than before. As I reached the south-eastern point of the heavens
I was certain I saw a dark object. I rubbed my eyes. The sails of a
vessel appeared before me, rising up like a thin dark pencil-line
against the sky. I wetted my fingers and held up my hand. The cold
struck it on that side. Whatever she might be she was well to windward
of us. I took the night-glass, which hung on brackets just inside the
companion-hatch. She was still too far off to enable me to make out
what she was. I had not, however, forgotten my suspicions of the
polacca. The stranger was evidently approaching us. If she was the
Greek, her crew would scarcely resist the temptation of attempting to
plunder us. Still I felt that my suspicions were almost absurd, and I
did not like to arouse my friends without some better grounds for my
fears. I, however, felt it would be wise not to run the risk of being
taken altogether unprepared. I therefore went up alongside old Snow--so
we called him, though he was young enough to be old Sleet's son. I was
not long in waking him up to the proper pitch of caution by narrating a
variety of stories about pirates and slavers and savages, and such like
gentry, with a due admixture of instances where people from carelessness
were caught napping and lost their lives.
"Now," said I, "let us get these spars cleared away enough to work the
guns. The watch on deck will do it without rousing the rest. We'll
have a supply up of round-shot and ammunition. The people have not
restored their pistols and cutlasses to the arm-chest. Send a couple of
hands to collect them all ready, and then if yonder stranger proves to
be the polacca, and wishes to taste our quality, we'll let her have her
will, and show her what we are made of."
I spoke thus confidently that there might be no risk of taking any of
the pluck out of the people. I cannot say, however, that I at all liked
the notion of a brush with the well-manned and probably well-armed
polacca-brig in our present dismantled condition, however little I might
have feared her at close quarters had we been all to rights. I watched
the approach of the stranger, therefore, with no little anxiety. She
was evidently bearing right down upon us, though, as there was but
little wind, her progress was slow. The hours of the night wore on. I
was leaning against the wreck of the mast which lay fore and aft along
the deck, and at length I fell asleep. I do not know how long I had
slept when I heard Porpoise's voice close to me.
"Hillo, Brine! what in the name of wonder is that away there to
windward?" he exclaimed.
"The polacca-brig, there's no doubt about it," I answered, as I beheld a
vessel like a dark phantom stealing up towards us. I then explained to
him the preparations I had made in case the brig should really be of the
piratical character we suspected, and at the same time inclined to
attack us. This relieved his mind not a little. My belief, however,
was that the Greek might not have seen us. She might, of course, have
calculated our whereabouts. Perhaps even now she might not see us.
Perhaps, also, as Porpoise suggested, if the boat was swamped in the
squall, the rest of the crew would probably cruise about to look for
their companions. He agreed with me, therefore, that we need not yet
rouse up Hearty and our other two friends. By the by, in consequence of
all the delays we must endure, I was doubly glad that we had not told
Hearty of Miss Mizen's expedition to Malta. It would have made him
undergo them with much less than his usual philosophy, I suspect.
"I doubt if even now the brig sees us," said I as I watched her through
the night-glass. So low down in the water as we were, she was very
likely to miss us.
"See, she is passing us," exclaimed Porpoise, after we had watched her
for some time. "It is just as well she should miss us, for in our
present state we could not exactly do ourselves justice."
"Perhaps after all our friends may be very well disposed, and in no way
inclined to do us any harm," said I, not that I could in reality divest
myself of the idea that the polacca was commanded by Sandgate, and that
he would have delighted to do us all the mischief in his power. With
daylight, however, I don't think I should fear him, even now, I thought
to myself.
It still wanted nearly an hour to sunrise, and daylight in that clime
does not come very long before the glorious luminary of day rushes up
from his ocean bed. We hoped by that time that the brig would have
pretty well run us out of sight. Still neither Porpoise nor I felt
inclined to go below again. We intended, indeed, to rouse out all hands
to get up the jury-masts the moment we had light to work by. We,
however, were not so clear of danger as we fancied. The brig had got
about a mile to leeward of us, when we saw her brace up her yards, and,
close-hauled, she stood back so as soon to fetch us. There was no
longer any time to spare.
"Rouse up all hands fore and aft," sung out Porpoise, with a stentorian
voice.
In a minute every one was on deck busily employed in casting loose the
guns, in priming pistols, and buckling on cutlasses.
"If the fellow will but come to close quarters, we have no reason to
fear him," exclaimed our gallant skipper, surveying his crew with no
little pride.
"I only wish we may have a brush with him," added Hearty; "it would tell
well in the Club; only I wish we had our mast standing." I cannot say
that I participated altogether in the satisfaction of my friends. The
brig, if she did attack us, I knew, we must find an ugly customer, and
the pirates could only venture to do so with the full intention of
sending every one of us, with the yacht into the bargain, to the bottom,
on the principle that dead men tell no tales.
The Greek was not long in showing us his intentions. No sooner had he
got us within range of his guns, than brailing up his courses and
lowering his topsails, he opened his fire upon our almost helpless
craft. Happily for us his gunnery was very bad, and he evidently had a
fancy for long bowls, and a wholesome dread of coming to close quarters
with us. Our people went cheerily to their guns, not a bit afraid of
our big enemy.
"Only just do ye come on, ye confounded scoundrels, and we'll just give
ye a taste of what we are made of," sung out Tom Hall, a
broad-shouldered fellow, standing six feet high or more in his
stockings, as he shook his cutlass in an attitude of defiance at the
enemy; and no one was better able to give an account of them than he
would have been when the day's work was over.
Will Bubble threw off his coat, fastened a silk handkerchief round his
waist and another round his head, and worked away at his little gun in
fine style. Carstairs did the same in a more deliberate manner,
whistling the fag end of a hunting song. If we had possessed guns four
times the size of ours, I verily believe, crippled as were, we should
very soon have sent our antagonists to the bottom, instead of running
the risk of going there ourselves. Finding his shot fall short or wide
of us, he ran on a little way, and then tacking, stood closer up to us.