LAND HO!
With Captain North back on board again, we felt great confidence for
the future; and while we remained in Havana there was no other
attempt, so far as I know, to do us harm. But there was that in the
wind which kept us always uneasy; and at no time after the night
when Sim Muzzy left us, never to return to the brig Adventure, did
we have a moment of complete security.
Every one asked questions about poor Sim, and by the way the various
ones received our answers they indicated much of their own attitude
toward us. Abe Guptil was moved almost to tears, and most of the men
forward shook their heads sympathetically, although in my presence,
since I was not one of them, they said little. But Matterson would
smile with a certain unkind satisfaction, and Neil Gleazen would
laugh softly, and here and there some one or other of the men would
make sly jests or cast sidelong glances at Arnold and me.
Of all the men on board, Seth Upham was conspicuously the most
disturbed; and as he gloomily paced the deck,--a practice he
continued even after Captain North had returned,--I heard him more
than once murmuring to himself, "Sim, Sim, O my poor Sim! Into what
a plight I have led you!"
Arnold and I suggested in the cabin that we send out a searching
party to see what we could learn of Sim's fate, and Uncle Seth urged
it madly upon the others; but Gleazen and Matterson would hear
nothing of it, and even Gideon North told us frankly that he
regarded such measures as hopeless.
"The man's gone and I'm sorry," he said; "but I honestly believe it
is useless for us to try to help him now."
So, reluctantly, we dropped the matter, after reporting it both to
the local authorities and to our own consul; for however deeply we
distrusted Gleazen and Matterson, in Captain North we had implicit
faith.
To prepare for the voyage, we took on board in the next few days
supplies of divers kinds, and though I had learned much by now of
the ways of life at sea, many of the things puzzled me. One day it
was a vast number of empty water-casks; another day, more than a
hundred barrels of farina; yet another day, a boatload of beans and
one of lumber. There were mysterious gatherings in the cabin from
which Arnold and I were excluded,--we could not fail to notice that
they took place when Captain North was ashore,--but to which gentry
with dingy wristbands and shiny faces were bid; and presently we saw
stowed away forward iron boilers and iron bars, a great box of iron
spoons, a heap of rusty shackles, and still puzzling, although
perhaps less so, a mighty store of gunpowder.
All this occasioned a long argument between Arnold and Captain North
and myself, which fully enlightened me concerning the purpose of the
mysterious supplies. But reluctant though we were to take the goods
on board, there was nothing that we could do to stop it so long as
my uncle, under Gleazen's influence, insisted on it; for as owner of
the brig, and in that particular port where contraband trade played
so important a part, he could have had us even jailed, if necessary,
to carry his point. Our only way to serve him best in the end was to
stand by in silence and let the stores, such as they were, go into
the hold.
All the time my uncle came and went in a silence so deep that, if I
had not now and then caught his eyes fixed upon me with a sadness
that revealed, more than words, how unhappy he was, I could scarcely
have believed that he was the same Seth Upham in whose house I had
lived so long. From a person of importance in his own town and a
leader among those of us who had set forth with him, he had fallen
to a place so shameful that I felt for him the deepest concern, and
for the precious villains that were thus dishonoring my mother's
brother, the deepest anger.
"There are no pirates on the seas nowadays," I remarked one morning
to Neil Gleazen who stood beside me watching all that went
forward--and all the time I watched his face. "Why then should we
set out armed to fight a sloop-of-war? Or ship a pair of
small-swords on the cabin bulkhead?"
"Trade and barter, Joe," he replied. "The niggers fairly tumble over
themselves to buy such tricks. There's money in it, Joe." Then he
laughed as if mightily pleased with himself.
"But," I persisted, scarcely veiling my impatience, "you've said
more than once that trade is not the object of our voyage."
"True, Joe." He lowered his voice. "But that's no reason to neglect
a chance to turn our money over. Ah, Joe, you're a good lad, and we
must have a bout with the foils some day soon. I'm sure we'll get
along well together, you and I."
He smiled and clapped me on the shoulder; but the old spell was
broken, and when he had gone, I ruminated for a long time on one
thing and another that had occurred in the past months.
That evening, when Arnold and I stood with Gideon North abaft the
wheel where there was no one to overhear us, Arnold and the honest
captain would have confirmed my worst suspicions, had they needed to
be confirmed. But by then I had observed as much as they, and we
talked only in such vague terms as pleased our mood.
"No! There's more to this voyage than has appeared on the surface
even yet," Captain North said in an undertone.
"I have heard them talking in Spanish," said Arnold Lamont, "of
gold--and of other things--of two men on the coast--and of a ship
wrecked at the hour they needed her most. They share a great secret.
They have come scarred through more than one fight and have lost the
vessel on which they counted to make their fortunes. They are taking
us back now, perhaps to fight for them, perhaps to run for them, but
always as their creatures. So much I, too, have learned. We must
walk circumspectly, my friends. We must keep always together and
guard always against treachery. _Mon dieu!_ what men they are!"
It was the longest speech I had ever heard Arnold make.
Next day, following the arrival of a boatload of as rascally looking
mariners as ever attempted to ship on board a reputable vessel,
there ensued a quarrel so sudden and violent and so directly
concerned with our fortunes, that Arnold and I hung in breathless
suspense on the issue.
"Gentlemen," Gideon North cried, hammering the cabin table with his
fist, "as captain of this brig, I and I alone will say who shall
ship with me and who shall not. I'll not have my crew packed with
vagabonds and buccaneers. I'll turn those fellows back on shore, be
it bag in hand and clothes upon them, or be it as stark naked as
they came into this world, and I'll have you leave my crew alone
from this day forth."
Matterson laughed lightly. "Ah, captain," he said, in bitter
sarcasm, "you are so excitable. They are able men. I'll answer for
them."
"Mr. Matterson," the captain retorted, "it devolves upon you to
answer for yourself, which bids fair to be no easy task."
"But," roared Gleazen, cursing viciously, "the owner says they're to
come. And, by heaven, you'll cram them down your throat."
"Stuff and nonsense--"
By this time I felt that I could hold my peace no longer. Certainly
I was party to whatever agreement should be reached. "You lie!" I
cried to Gleazen, "the owner said nothing of the kind!"
"How about it, Seth, how about it?" Gleazen demanded, disdainfully
ignoring me. "Speak out your orders, speak 'em out or--" the man's
voice dropped until it rumbled in his throat "--or--you know what."
Poor Seth Upham had thought himself so strong and able and shrewd!
So he had been in little Topham. But neither the quick wit nor the
native courage necessary to cope with desperate, resolute men was
left to him now.
"I--I--" he stammered. "Take one or two of them, Captain North, just
one or two,--do that for me, I beg you,--and let the rest go."
"What!" exclaimed Gideon North.
"One or two?" Gleazen thundered, "one or two? Only one or two?"
Instantly both men had turned upon my uncle. Both men, their eyes
narrowed, their jaws out-thrust, faced him in hot anger. There was a
moment of dreadful silence; then, to my utter amazement, my uncle
actually got down on his knees in front of Neil Gleazen, down on his
marrow bones on the bare boards, and wailed, "In the name of Heaven,
Neil, don't tell! Don't tell!"
[Illustration: "_In the name of Heaven, Neil, don't tell! Don't
tell!_"]
While we stared at him, Gideon North, Arnold, and I, literally
doubting what our eyes told us was the plain truth, Matterson said
lightly, as if he were speaking of a sick and fretful child, "Let
him have it, Neil. I hate scenes. Keep only Pedro."
Gideon North looked first at my uncle, then at Matterson, and then
back at my uncle. As if to a certain extent moved by the scene that
we had just witnessed, he said no more; so of five strange seamen,
next day all save one went ashore again.
That brief, fierce quarrel had revealed to us, as nothing else could
have, into what a desperately abject plight my uncle had fallen. At
the time it shocked me beyond measure. It was so pitifully, so
inexpressibly disgraceful! In all the years that have passed since
that day in Havana harbor I have not been able to forget it; to this
moment I cannot think of it without feeling in my cheeks the hot
blood of shame.
The man whom Matterson chose to keep on board the Adventure appeared
to be a good-natured soul, and he went by the name of Pedro. What
other name he had, if any, I never knew; but no seafaring man who
ever met him needed another name. Years afterwards, down on old Long
Wharf in Boston, I elicited an exclamation of amazement by saying to
a sailor who had slyly asked me for the price of a glass of beer,
"Did you ever know a seafaring man named Pedro who had a pet
monkey?"
By his monkey I verily believe the man was known in half the ports
of the world. He came aboard with the grinning, chattering beast,
which seemed almost as big as himself, perched on his shoulder. He
made it a bed in his own bunk, fed it from his own dipper, and
always spoke affectionately of it as "my leetle frien'."
The beast was uncannily wise. There was something
veritably Satanic in the leers with which it would regard the men,
and before we crossed the ocean, as I shall relate shortly, it
became the terror of Willie MacDougald's life.
So far as most of us could see, we were now ready to weigh anchor
and be off; but by my uncle's orders we waited one day more, and on
the morning of that day Uncle Seth and Neil Gleazen went on shore
together.
When after a long absence they returned, they had words with Captain
North; and though we had become used by now to quarrels between
Gleazen and the captain, there was a different tone in this one,
which puzzled Arnold and me.
Presently the two and my uncle went below, where Matterson joined
them; and except for Willie MacDougald, Arnold and I might never
have known what took place. But Willie MacDougald, knocking at our
stateroom door that night, thrust his small and apparently innocent
face into the cabin, entered craftily and said, "If you please, sir,
I've got news worth a pretty penny."
"How much is it worth?" Arnold asked.
"A shilling," Willie whispered.
"That is a great deal of money."
"Ah, but I've got news that's worth it."
"I shall be the judge of that," Arnold responded.
Willie squinted up his face and whispered, "They've got new papers."
"How so?" Arnold demanded. He did not yet understand what Willie
meant.
"Why, new papers. Portuguese papers."
"Ah," said Arnold. "Forged, I suppose? Shall we not sail under the
American flag?"
"Ay, ay, sir, but the schooner Shark and the sloop of war Ontario
are to be sent across for cruising."
"Ah!"
"And Seth Upham's sold the brig."
"Sold it!" Arnold exclaimed. For the moment both he and I thought
that Willie was lying to us.
"Ay, ay, sir. To be delivered in Africa. Half the money down, and
half on delivery."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Why, sir," said the crafty youngster, who understood better than
either of us the various subterfuges to which African traders
resorted in order to elude searching cruisers, "all they have to do
to change registry is to say she's delivered to the new owners, and
fly a new flag and show the bill of sale."
"Go on, go on. Must I drag the story from you word by word?"
"Captain North, sir, said he'd be hanged first; and Mr. Gleazen said
he'd be hanged anyway; and ain't that worth two bits?"
Arnold flung a coin to the grasping little wretch, and he went out
and closed the door behind him.
It was dark just outside our stateroom, and neither Willie nor we
had been able to see anything that might have been there. For half a
minute after Willie left us, while he was feeling his way toward the
cabin, all was still. Then he suddenly shrieked so wildly that we
leaped from our berths.
There was a sound of crashing and bumping. Even wilder shrieks
filled the air, and we heard a curious chattering and mumbling.
Something fell against the stateroom door and cracked a panel, the
door flew open, and in toppled Willie with Pedro's monkey grasping
him firmly by the throat from its perch on the little fellow's
shoulders.
"Help, help!" Willie shrieked. "Lord save me! It's the devil! Help!
I repent! I repent!" And he tripped and fell with a crash.
As he fell, the coin flew out of his hand, and the monkey, seeing
the flash of silver, leaped after it, picked it up, fled like a lean
brown shadow through the door, and was gone we knew not where.
To this day I am not able to make up my mind whether the child's
anger or his fear was the greater. Turning like a flash, he saw what
it was that had attacked him; yet he made no move to pursue the
beast, and from that time on he regarded it with exceedingly great
caution and nimbly and prudently betook himself out of its way.
Canny, scheming, selfish Willie MacDougald!
At peep of dawn we got up our anchors and set sail and put out to
sea, carrying with us heavy knowledge of perils and dangers that
encompassed us, and sad memories of our old home in Topham, of our
old friends in trouble, of high hopes that had fallen into ruin.
It comforted me to see Abraham Guptil working with the crew. He
stood in good repute with every man on board, from Matterson and
Gleazen to little Willie MacDougald, who now was in the steerage
watching with great, round eyes all that went on about him. Good Abe
Guptil! He, at least, concealed no diabolical craft beneath an
innocent exterior.
I thought of Sim Muzzy. Poor Sim! Since he had disappeared that
night in the clutches of the press-gang, nothing that we had been
able to do had called forth a single word of his whereabouts. He had
vanished utterly, and though neither Arnold nor I had ever felt any
great affection for the garrulous fellow, we both were sincerely
grieved to lose an old companion thus unhappily.
Now, as our sails filled, we swept past the Merry Jack and Eleanor,
and the sight came to me like a shock of ill omen. The black
disgrace of her lawless trade, the brutal men who manned her, the
sinister experience that had followed so closely our call upon her
captain, all combined to make me feel that the shadow she had cast
upon us was not easily to be evaded.
It was good to turn back once more to solid, substantial Gideon
North, firm, wise Arnold Lamont, and kindly, trustworthy Abe Guptil.
On them and on me Uncle Seth's fortunes and my own depended, if not
indeed our very lives.
Mr. Matterson handled the brig from the forecastle and handled her
ably. Not even Captain North, who watched him constantly with
searching eyes, could find a thing of which to complain. His almost
feminine voice took on a cutting quality that reached each man on
board and conveyed by its hard, keen edge a very clear impression of
what would happen if aught should go astray. But there was that
about him which made it impossible to trust him; and Gleazen,
seeming by his airs far more the owner than my poor, cowed uncle,
stood by Gideon North and looked the triumph that he felt.
So we passed between the castle and the battery and showed our heels
to Cuba and set our course across the sea and lived always on guard,
always suspicious, yet never confirming further our suspicions,
until, weeks later, the lookout at the masthead cried, "Land ho!"
The low, dark line that appeared far on the horizon, to mark the end
of an uncommonly tranquil passage, so pleasantly in contrast to our
voyage to Cuba, deepened and took form. There was excitement forward
and aft. Gleazen and Matterson clapped hands on shoulders and roared
their delight and cried that now,--they were vile-mouthed, profane
men,--that now neither God nor devil should thwart them further.
Through the ship the word went from lip to lip that yonder lay the
coast of Guinea.
It had become natural to us in the cabin to align ourselves on one
side or the other. Gleazen and Matterson stood shoulder to shoulder,
and Gideon North and Arnold Lamont and I gathered a little farther
aft. We acted unconsciously, for all of us were intent on the land
that we had raised; and my poor uncle, apparently assuming neither
friend nor enemy, leaned against the cabin all alone. His face was
averted and I could catch only a glimpse of his profile; but I was
convinced that I saw his lip tremble.
Yonder, in truth, lay the coast of Guinea, and there at last every
one of us was to learn the secret of that mad expedition which had
so long since set forth from the little New England town of Topham.
[Illustration]
IV
THREE DESPERATE MEN
[Illustration]