CAPTAIN NORTH AGAIN
First there was talk of old times, for it seemed that Matterson and
Gleazen and Captain Jones were friends of long standing. Then there
was talk of strange wars and battles, particularly of one battle of
Insamankow, of which neither Gleazen nor Matterson had had other
news than that which Captain Jones now gave them, and in which it
seemed that the British had met with great disaster, although it
puzzled me to know wherein such a battle even remotely concerned any
of us. After that there was talk of various other things--a
murderous plague of smallpox that years before had swept the African
coast, a war between the Fantis and Ashantis, a cruiser that they,
with oaths and laughter, said had struck her flag in battle with a
slaver, a year's journey with desert caravans that traded with the
Arabs, and last of all, and apparently most important, curious ways
of circumventing the laws of England and America and of bribing
Cuban officers of low degree and high.
All this, in a stuffy little place where the mingled smells of rum
and spices and tobacco hung heavily on the air as they grew stale,
filled me with disgust and almost with nausea. Vile oaths slipped
out between each two sentences, if by rare chance they were not
woven into the very warp of the sentences themselves; such stories
of barbarous and unbelievable cruelty were told and retold as I
cannot bear to call to mind, to say nothing of repeating; and always
I was aware of that sickening odor, now strong, now weak, which I
had detected before we went below.
The first sign that the others gave of noticing it was when Gleazen
threw back his head and cried, "Pfaw! What a stench! The smell is
all I have against the trade."
Matterson laughed, and Captain Jones with his grand manner said,
"You have been too long away from it, Mr. Gleazen."
"Too long? That's as may be. An old horse settles easy into harness
again."
Captain Jones smiled. With apparent irrelevance, but with a
reminiscent air, he said; "Too long or no, it's a long time since
first we met,--a long, long time, and yet I remember as yesterday
what a night we had of it. It began when that blasted Frenchman
slipped his cables and sought to beat us up the river. It was you,
Gleazen, that saved us then. When your message came, with what haste
we landed the boats and towed the old brig straight up stream! Row?
We rowed like the devil, and though our palms peeled, we won the
race. It was a good cargo you had waiting, too. Only seven died in
the passage."
In the passage! Already I had suspected, now I knew, that the ship
with her fast lines and cruel officers was none other than a slaver;
that the smell was the stench of a slave-ship; that in that very
cabin men had bartered for human beings. If I could, I would have
turned my back on them there and then; the repugnance that I had
long felt grew into downright loathing. What would I not have given
to be up and away with Arnold Lamont! But I was a mere stripling,
alone, so far as help was concerned, in a den of villains crueler
than wolves. Though I would eagerly have left them, I dared not; and
almost at once something happened that in any case would have held
me where I was.
Gleazen leaned across the punch-bowl and said to Captain Jones; "Who
is there in port will make a good captain for a smart brig with a
neat bow, swift to sail and clever to work?"
Captain Jones ran his fingers through his stiff, shaggy hair. "Now,
let me see," he replied, "there's a man--"
Cutting him sharply off, my uncle spoke up, "Gentlemen, I will
choose the master of my own vessel."
I knew by his voice that he, as well as I, was sickened by the
situation in which we found ourselves. Poor Uncle Seth, I thought,
how little did he suspect, when he united his fortune with the
golden dreams of Neil Gleazen, that he was to travel such a road as
this!
"Ah!" said Gleazen. "And who will it be?" An unkind smile played
around his mouth.
"Gideon North, if he will come back to us," said my uncle.
"Ah!" Matterson, Gleazen, and Captain Jones exclaimed as if with one
breath.
For a minute or so the three sat in silence, looking hard at the top
of the table; then Matterson with a queer twist of his lips spoke in
Spanish. When, after another silence, the captain of the Merry Jack
and Eleanor answered at length in the same tongue, Matterson
responded briefly, and all three men nodded.
A quality so curiously and subtly dramatic pervaded the scene that I
remember thinking, as I looked about, what a rare theme it would
have made for a painter. I believe that a skillful artist, if he had
studied the faces of us all as we sat there, could have put our
characters on his canvas so faithfully that he would have been in
danger of paying for his honesty with his life, had Matterson or the
strange captain had a chance at him in the dark. The very place in
which we sat smelled of villainies, and the rat-like captain of the
ship was a fit master of such a den.
Gleazen now turned to my uncle. "Very well," said he, with an
amused smile, "Joe, here, and Arnold Lamont are in good odor with
him. Suppose, then, that we let them go ashore and hunt him out and
talk matters over. I've no doubt he'll come back. He went off in a
tantrum, as a man will when he takes pepper up his nose. You must
know where the fellow's staying. You were to send him the money due
him. Captain Jones will lend them one of his boats for now, and I'll
have our boat ready to take them all off together in, say, three
hours' time."
As I have said in an earlier chapter of this narrative, by
inclination I was a dreamer; and yet I must have been more than a
mere dreamer, and worse, not to have scented by those dark looks and
cryptic words some trouble or other afoot. It was as if for a long
time I had seen the three to be united definitely against us, but as
if I now for the first time perceived what a desperately black and
sinful alliance they made--it was as if the spectacle struck me into
a daze. When Gleazen finished, the other two again nodded, and in
the very manner of their nods there was something as cold and
deliberate as a snake's eye. Had I been able to rely upon the
impressions of the moment, I should have said that time stood as
still as the sun upon Gibeon; that for many minutes we stared at one
another in mutual suspicion; that the beating of my heart had all
but ceased. But the impressions of the moment deceived me.
When Gleazen stopped speaking, he hit with his elbow the ink-bottle
that stood on the table. It tipped on its side, rolled deliberately
across the table, and fell; but before it struck the floor,
Matterson, leaning out with a swift, dexterous motion, caught it,
tried the stopper, and murmured as if to himself, "There's luck for
you! Not a drop is lost." In the time it had taken that bottle to
roll across the table, and not a second more, I had suffered that
untold suspense.
Now the spell was shattered, and hearing someone speaking in an
undertone behind me, I turned and caught Captain Jones in the act of
giving instructions _in Spanish_ to his negro steward.
I was surprised and angry. Though of late I had heard much Spanish,
it seemed to me that to speak it under the circumstances was so rude
as to verge on open affront. Then Uncle Seth, gulping down his
astonishment that Gleazen should so readily accede to his wishes,
spoke up for himself; and because I was so deeply interested in
whatever he might have to say, I turned my back on the mungo, ceased
to watch Captain Jones, and did not notice that the steward went
immediately on deck. Nor did I attribute any significance to the
sound of oars bumping against the pins, which I soon afterwards
heard. Had not Arnold Lamont been waiting on deck with his eyes
fixed apparently on the dark outline of the frigate, my stupidity
must have cost us even more than it did.
"Very well," said Uncle Seth. "I will do as you suggest."
"Perhaps," said Gleazen, thoughtfully, "Sim Muzzy, here, would like
to go."
"Oh, yes," cried Sim, "I'm fair dying for a trip on dry land. Yes,
indeed, I'd like to go. I'd like it mightily. You've always said,
Mr. Gleazen, I was too thick to do harm. Oh, yes indeed!"
Matterson smiled and Captain Jones covered his mouth with his hand,
but Gleazen gravely nodded.
"Well, Sim, go you shall," said he. "There ain't one of us here but
is glad to see an honest man take his fling ashore, and Havana's a
city for you. Such handsome women as ride about in their carriages!
And such sights as you'll see in the streets! You'll be a wiser man
e'er you come back to us, Sim. I swear, I'd like to go myself,--but
not to-night! I ain't one to neglect business for pleasure."
When he shot a glance at Matterson and Captain Jones, my eyes
followed his, and I saw that once more they had fixed their gaze on
the top of the table. Now I was actually unable, so baffling had
been their change of front, to make up my mind whether they were to
be suspected or to be trusted.
"Well," said Gleazen, "we are all agreed. Lay down your orders,
Seth. They'll carry them out to the last letter."
So Uncle Seth told me where to find Gideon North, and Neil Gleazen
wrote it on a paper,--_in Spanish_, mind you!--and they put their
heads together, every one, to think up such arguments as would
induce Captain North to return, all with an appearance of enthusiasm
that amazed me and might easily have put my suspicions to shame but
for those other things that had happened.
"I'll be civil to him," Gleazen cried. "And you can tell him, too,
that this is an _honest voyage_. We're to run no race with the
king's cruisers, Joe."
"Aye," Captain Jones put in, "an able vessel and an honest voyage."
"With a mountain of treasure to be got," added Matterson.
The three spoke so gravely and straightforwardly now, that I
wondered at their insolence; and as Sim and I got up to go, not yet
quite believing that in reality, and not in a dream, we were being
dispatched into the heart of that strange city, they accompanied us
on deck and told Arnold Lamont that he was to go with us on our
errand, and saw us safely started in the long boat of the Merry Jack
and Eleanor before returning to their punch.
I could see that Arnold had no liking for the mission, but while we
were in the boat he gave me no explanation of his uneasiness.
Indeed, Sim Muzzy talked so much and so fast that, when he once got
started, you could scarcely have thrust the point of a needle into
his monologue.
"She's a slaver," he murmured as we pulled away from the Merry Jack
and Eleanor. "A cruel-hearted slaver! Thank heaven, we're never to
have a hand in any such iniquity as that."
We looked back at the ship, black and gloomy against the sky, with
many men moving about on her deck.
"You're a silly fool," one of the oarsmen cried, having overheard
him, "a man without stomach, heart, or good red blood."
"Stomach, is it?" Sim retorted. "I'll have you know I eat my three
hearty meals a day and they set well too. I can eat as much victuals
as the next man. Why--" And there was no stopping him till the boat
bumped against a wharf and we three stepped out.
The boat, I noticed, instead of putting back to the ship, waited by
the wharf.
I turned and looked at the restless harbor, on which each light was
reflected as a long, tremulous finger of flame that reached almost
to my feet, at the sky, in which the stars were now shining, and at
the anchored ships, each with her own story, could one but have read
it; then I yielded to Sim's importunate call and in the darkness
turned after him and Arnold. What reason was there to suspect that
Simeon Muzzy and I stood at a crossroads where our paths divided?
Coming to the street, we stopped, and in the light from an open
window put our heads together over the paper that Gleazen had
written out and given to us with instructions to show it to the
first person we met and turn where he pointed.
"Why, it's all in foreigner's talk!" Sim exclaimed.
"Let me see it," said Arnold.
He looked at it a long time and smiled. "I wonder," he said, "do
they think we are so very simple?"
Now a man came toward us. Before he could pass, Arnold stepped
suddenly forward and _addressed him in Spanish_.
"Why," cried I, when the passerby had gone, "you, too--do you talk
Spanish?"
Arnold turned to me with a smile and said, for the second time, "A
man does not tell all he knows."
Thrusting the paper into his pocket, he continued, "According to the
directions that Mr. Gleazen has written down for our guidance, my
friends, we should turn to the right. But according to my personal
knowledge, which that man confirmed, we shall find Gideon North by
turning to the left."
To the left, then, we turned; and only Arnold Lamont, who told me of
it afterward, saw one of the boatmen, when we had definitely taken
our course, leave the boat and run into the darkness in the
direction that Neil Gleazen wished to send us.
Carriages passed us, and men on horseback, and negroes loitering
along the streets. There were bright lights in the windows; and we
saw ladies and their escorts riding in queer two-wheeled vehicles
that I later learned were called _volantes_.
All was strange and bizarre and extraordinarily interesting. Never
did three men from a little country village in New England find
themselves in a more utterly foreign city. But although Sim and I
had our eyes open for every new sight, I was nevertheless aware that
Arnold was more alert than either of us, and twice he urged us to
keep our eyes and wits about us.
Seeing nothing to fear, I inclined to smile at him. I now assumed
that I was the bolder and more sophisticated of the two of us. As
we tramped along in the darkness, I got over the sense of unreality
and felt as much at home in that alien city as if I had been back in
the familiar streets and lanes of Boston.
Three times Arnold stopped to inquire the way; and the last time the
man of whom he asked directions pointed at a house not a hundred
yards distant and said, with a bow, "It is there, señor."
That he spoke in English, which he had heard Sim and me use, so
surprised us that for the moment we were off our guard. I was
vaguely aware of hearing many feet trampling along, and afterwards I
realized that I had absently noticed the rumble of voices; but the
city was all so strange that I thought nothing of either the feet or
the voices, and gave all my attention to the stranger. He was
turning away, bowing and protesting his pleasure in serving us, when
Sim Muzzy said in a wondering tone, "Why, Arnold,--Joe,--how many
people there are hereabouts! Look there!"
Arnold, turning as the poor fellow spoke, seized my arm. "_Mon
dieu!_" he gasped, startled into his native French. Then in English
he cried, "Quick, Joe! Quick! _Vite!_ Ha! Strike out, Sim, strike!"
Around us there were indeed many men. They were approaching us from
ahead and behind. Suddenly, fiercely, three or four of them rushed
at us.
From his belt Arnold drew a knife and thrust at a man who had caught
my collar. I lost no time in leaping free.
Two of them, now, were upon Arnold, crying out in Spanish; but he
eluded them by a quick turn.
I first saw him spring out of their reach, then an arm, flung round
my throat, cut my wind. As I throttled, I saw Arnold come charging
back again, knife in hand. The blade slashed past my ear so closely
that it cut the skin; something spurted over my neck and the back
of my head, and the arm that held me fell.
Arnold, his hand on my shoulder, dragged me free. Stooping, he
picked up a stone and hurled it into the midst of our assailants,
eliciting a screech of pain and anger. When I bent to follow his
example, I saw a chance light flash on his knife-blade. But where, I
thought, is Sim? Then, somewhere in the crowd, I heard him choking
and gagging. My first impulse was to rush to his rescue, but
instantly I saw the folly of such a course, so greatly were we
outnumbered. For a moment Arnold and I held them off. Just behind us
was a street corner. As we darted toward it, one man dashed out from
the crowd, the rest followed, and a second time, with hoarse shouts,
they charged down upon us. They came in a solid phalanx, but we
rounded the corner and fled. At top speed we raced down the street
and round a second corner. Distancing them for the moment, but with
their yells ringing in our ears, we scrambled up over a wrought-iron
gate that gave us hold for fingers and feet, through a garden rich
with palms and statuary, over another gate and across still another
street. There we scaled one gate more, and throwing ourselves down
in some dense vines, lay quietly and got back our breath, while our
eluded pursuers raced and called on the street outside.
The last thing I had heard as we ran was poor Sim Muzzy screaming
for help.
"Who--wh-wh-o--wh-what--were th-they?" I gasped out.
"I believe it to have been a press-gang," Arnold replied. He, too,
was gasping for breath, but he better controlled his voice.
After a time he added, "Poor Sim! I fear that he is now on his way
into the service of the royal navy of Spain."
"But," I returned, "they cannot hold an American citizen."
"Lawfully," said he, "they cannot."
"Then we'll soon have Sim out again."
To this, he did not reply. He said merely, "You and I, Joe, must
keep it a secret between us that I speak their language."
We lay a long time in the garden, with the stars shining above us
and yellow lights streaming out of the house, and I thought of how
skillfully Arnold Lamont had concealed his interest in what Gleazen
and Matterson had said in a language they thought none of us could
understand. But when the racing and shouting had gone, and come, and
gone again, and when we both were convinced that all danger was
past, we rose and stretched ourselves and went up to the house and
knocked.
As the door swung open, a flood of light poured out into the garden;
but we saw only an old negro, who stood like a black shadow in our
way and assailed us with a broadside of angry Spanish. His gray head
shook with fury, I suppose at finding us in the garden, and he
spread his arms to keep us from entering the house. Behind him arose
a hubbub, and an angry white man came rushing out. When to his
fierce questions Arnold shot back prompt answers, his anger died,
and tolerance took its place, and finally a wave of cordiality swept
over his face. Stepping back he actually flung the door wide open
and with stately bows ushered us into the high-studded hall. Then
the negro went bustling down the passage and spoke in a low voice,
and I was amazed beyond measure to see Gideon North himself step out
of a lighted room.
In our flight Arnold, shrewd, quick to think and to act, had led us
to the garden in the rear of the very house of which we had come in
search.
"Well," said Captain North, when, after warm greetings and quick
explanations, we were seated together behind closed doors, "of all
that rascally crew in the cabin of the Adventure, you two are the
only ones I should be glad to see again. How in the name of
Beelzebub, prince of devils, did you light upon my lodging-house,
and what has brought you here?"
Now Gleazen had suggested various arguments by which to bring
Captain North back to his command, and not the least of them was an
apology of a kind from himself; but they had all lacked sincerity,
and as I knew well enough that Gleazen really would be very sorry if
we should succeed in our errand, I had wisely determined to have
none of them. It is exceedingly doubtful, however, if I should have
dared to speak quite as plainly as did Arnold Lamont.
"Sir," he said, "we have come on a strange errand. We ask you to
return to a ship where you have suffered indignities, to resume a
command that you have resigned under just provocation, to help a man
who, I fear, has forfeited every right to call upon you for help."
"I'm no hand for riddles," said Gideon North. "Talk plain sea-talk."
"Sir," said Arnold, "I ask you to come back as captain of the
Adventure, to save Seth Upham from his--friends." Arnold smiled
slightly.
"Blast Upham and his friends!"
"As you will. But that pair of leeches will get the blood from his
heart, and Joe Woods, his heir, will lose every penny of his
inheritance."
"Upham should have thought of that before. Leave him alone. He lies
in the bed he made."
"He, poor man, does not think of it now. Indeed, I fear he's beyond
saving."
Gideon North got up and went to the barred windows that opened upon
the street.
"What is this wild-goose chase?" he suddenly demanded.
"Exactly what the object is I do not know," Arnold replied. "They
talk of a treasure, but they are fit to rule an empire of liars.
They are not, I believe, equipped for the slave trade, though of
that you are a better judge than I."
Still Gideon North stood by the window. Without turning his head, he
remarked, "I wonder why _they_ want me back."
"They?" At that Arnold laughed. "_They_ do not want you. Not they!
Seth Upham insisted against their every wish. We came to your door
with a press-gang at our heels. _They_ planned that Joe and I should
share Sim Muzzy's fate and never see you again--or them."
Thereupon Captain North turned about.
"I am interested," he said. "Aye, and tempted."
He stood for a while musing on all he had heard; then he smiled in a
way that gave me confidence.
"We are three honest men with one purpose," he said; "but Gleazen
and Matterson are a pair of double-dyed villains. I go into this
affair knowing that it is at the risk of my life, but so help me!
I'll take the plunge."
After a pause he added, "You spend the night with me, lads, and we
will go on board together in the morning. That alone will give 'em a
pretty start, for I've no doubt they think already that they're well
rid of the three of us, and by sun-up they'll be sure of it. What's
more, we'll go armed, lads, knives in our belts and pistols in our
boots."