THE BRIG ADVENTURE
We drove for a long time in silence, with the jolting of the chaise
and the terrible scenes behind us to occupy our minds; and I assure
you it was a grim experience. In all the years that have intervened
I have never been able to escape from the memory of the burning
barn, with the dark figures running this way and that; the shrill
cries of Cornelius Gleazen, staring drunk, and his talk of the man
he had killed; the landlord at the tavern, with the blood spurting
from his shoulder where the hook had pulled through the flesh.
In a night the whole aspect of the world had changed. From a
care-free, selfish, heedless youth, put to work despite his wish to
linger over books, I had become of a sudden a companion of
criminals, haunted by terrible memories, and through no fault of my
own. After all, I thought, by whose fault was it? Cornelius
Gleazen's, to be sure. But by whose fault was I forced to accompany
Cornelius Gleazen in his flight? Certainly I was guiltless of any
unlawful act--for that matter, we all were, except Gleazen. I had
not a jot of sympathy for him, yet so completely had he interwoven
our affairs with his that, although the man was a drunken beast, we
dared not refuse to share his flight. By whose fault? I again asked
myself.
For a while I would not accept the answer that came to me. It seemed
disloyal to a well-meaning man who at one time and another had given
a thousand evidences of his real affection for me, which underlay
the veneer of sharpness and irascibility that he presented to the
world at large. It seemed to me that I could hear him saying again,
"You're all I've got, Joey; you're all that's left to the old man
and I'm going to do well by you--"; that I could hear again the
clink of gold thrown down before me on the table; that I could feel
his hand again on my shoulder, his voice again trembling with
despair when he cried, "I've meant to do so well by you, Joey! But
now--heaven keep us all!" Yet, as we jounced away over that rough
road and on into the night, and as I thought of things that one and
another had said, I felt more and more confident that at bottom Seth
Upham was to blame for our predicament. To be sure, he had _meant_
well, even in this present undertaking; and though he was said to
drive sharp bargains, he lived, I well knew, an honest life. Yet I
was convinced that at some time in the past he must have been guilty
of some sin or other that gave Neil Gleazen his hold over him. It
fairly staggered me to think of the power for good or evil that lies
in every act in a man's life. To be sure, had Seth Upham been a
really strong man, he would have lived down his mistake long since,
whatever it might have been, and would have defied Gleazen to do his
worst. But the crime, if such there was, was his, none the less; and
that it was the seed whence had sprung our great misfortunes, I was
convinced.
Looking back at Arnold Lamont, I caught his eye by the light of the
rising moon and found great comfort in his steady glance. As if to
reassure me further, he laid his hand on my arm and slightly pressed
it.
On and on and on we drove, past towns and villages, over bridges and
under arching trees, beside arms of the sea and inland ponds, until,
as dawn was breaking, we came down the road into Boston, with the
waters of the Charles River and of the Back Bay on our left and
Beacon Hill before us.
Here and there in the town early risers were astir, and the smoke
climbed straight up from their chimneys; but for the most part the
people were still asleep, and the shops that we passed were still
shuttered, except one that an apprentice at that very moment was
opening for the day. Down to the wharves we drove, whence we could
see craft of every description, both in dock and lying at anchor;
and there we fell into a lively discussion.
As the horses stopped, Gleazen woke, and that he was sick and
miserable a single glance at his face revealed.
"Well," said he, "there's the brig."
"Yes," Uncle Seth retorted, "and if you had kept away from
Higgleby's barn, we'd not have seen her for a week to come. We've
got you out of that scrape with a whole skin, and I swear we've done
well."
"It was _sub rosa_," Gleazen responded thickly, "only _sub rosa_,
mind you. Under the rose--you know, Seth."
"Yes, I know. If I had had my wits about me, you would never have
pulled the wool over my eyes."
Gleazen laughed unpleasantly. It was plain that he was in an evil
temper, and Uncle Seth, worn and harassed by the terrible
experiences of the night, was in no mood to humor him. So we sat in
the wagon on a wharf by the harbor, where the clean salt water
licked at the piling and rose slowly with the incoming tide, while
our two leaders bickered together.
At last, in anger, Seth Upham cried: "I swear I'll not go. I'll hold
back the brig. I'll keep my money. You shall hang."
Gleazen laughed a low laugh that was more threatening by far than if
as usual he had laughed with a great roar. "No, you don't, Seth," he
quietly said. "You know the stakes that you've put up and you know
that the winnings will be big. I've used you right, and you're not
going to go back on me now--_not while I know what I know_! There's
them that would open their eyes to hear it, Seth. I've bore the
blame for thirty years, but the end's come if you try to go back on
me now."
I looked at my uncle and saw that his face was white. His fingers
were twisting back and forth and he seemed not to know what to say;
but at last he nodded and said, "All right, Neil," and got down from
the wagon; and we all climbed out and stretched our stiff muscles.
"Here's a boat handy," Gleazen cried.
Uncle Seth cut the painter, and drawing her up to a convenient
ladder, we began to carry down our various belongings, finishing
with the big bags that hours before I had packed so carefully in the
bottom of the wagon. Neil Gleazen then seated himself in the stern
sheets, Abe Guptil took the oars, and I climbed into the bow.
As Uncle Seth was coming on board, Sim Muzzy stopped him.
"What about the horses?" he exclaimed. "You ain't going off to leave
them, are you? Not with wagon and all. Why, they must be worth a
deal of money; they--"
"Come, come, you prattling fool," Gleazen called.
Uncle Seth, after reflecting a moment, added sharply, "They'll maybe
go to pay for the boat we're taking. I don't like to steal, but now
I see no way out. Quick! I hear steps."
So down came Sim, and out into the harbor we rowed; and when I
turned to look, I saw close at hand for the first time the brig
Adventure.
She was a trim, well-proportioned craft, with a grace of masts and
spars and a neatness of rigging and black and white paint that quite
captivated me, although coming from what was virtually an inland
town, I was by no means qualified to pass judgment on her merits;
and I was not too weary to be glad to know that she, of all vessels
in the harbor, was the one in which we were to sail.
When a sleepy sailor on deck called, "Boat ahoy!" Gleazen gave him
better than he sent with a loud, "Ahoy, Adventure!"
Then we came up to her and swung with the tide under her chains,
until a couple of other sailors came running to help us get our
goods aboard; then up we scrambled, one at a time, and set the boat
adrift.
I now found myself on a neat clean deck, and was taken with the
buckets and pins and coiled ropes lying in tidy fakes--but I should
say, too, that I was so tired after my long night ride that I could
scarcely keep my eyes open, so that I paid little attention to what
was going on around me until I heard Uncle Seth saying, "And this,
Captain North, is my nephew. If there are quarters for him aft, I'll
be glad, of course."
"Of course, sir, of course," the captain replied; and I knew when I
first heard his voice that I was going to like him. "If he and the
Frenchman--Lamont you say's his name?--can share a stateroom, I've
one with two berths. Good! And you say we must sail at once? Hm! In
half an hour wind and tide will be in our favor. We're light of
ballast, but if we're careful, I've no doubt it will be safe. We
must get some fresh water. But that we can hurry up. Hm! I hadn't
expected sailing orders so soon; but in an hour's time, Mr. Upham,
if it's necessary, I can weigh anchor."
"Good!" cried Uncle Seth.
"Mr. Severance," Captain North called, "take five men and the cutter
for the rest of the fresh water, and be quick about it. Willie, take
Mr. Woods and Mr. Lamont below and show them to the stateroom the
lady passengers had when we came up from Rio. Now then, Guptil, you
take your bag forward and stow it in the forecastle, and if you're
hungry, tell the cook I said to give you a good cup of coffee and a
plate of beans."
As with Arnold Lamont I followed Willie MacDougald, the little cabin
boy, I was too tired to care a straw about life on board a ship; and
before I should come on deck again, I was to be too sick. But as I
threw myself into one of the berths in our tiny cubby, I welcomed
the prospect of at least a long sleep, and I told Arnold how
sincerely glad I was that we were to be together.
"Joe," he said, slowly and precisely, "I am very much afraid that we
are going on a wild-goose chase. Seth Upham has been kind to me in
his own way. He is one of the few friends I have in this world. Now,
I think, he would gladly be rid of me. But I shall stay with him to
the end, for I think the time is coming when he will need his
friends."
I am afraid I fell asleep before Arnold finished what he had to say;
but weary though I was, I felt even then a great confidence in this
quiet, restrained man. He was so wise, so unfathomable. And I felt
already the growing determination, which, before we had seen the
last of Neil Gleazen, was to absorb almost my very life, to work
side by side with Arnold Lamont in order to save what we could of
Uncle Seth's happiness and property from the hands of the man who,
we both saw, had got my poor uncle completely in his power.