"'Tis a lovely night!" observed Oriel Porphyry, as he stood upon the
deck of the Albatross, watching the fast receding shores of Africa.
"Indeed it is," said his companion. "The air is filled with beauty, and
there is an eloquent glory in the stars that speaks marvels of wisdom.
See how the rolling waves rush on, bathed with the trembling light from
above them--so do the multitudinous hearts within the world send forth
their tide, each illumined by glimpses of a heaven of its own. The
planets look down upon the waters, and from their mighty mirror drink in
the images of their own loveliness--just as the maiden venturing to gaze
into the glowing eyes of the youth of whom she is enamoured, sees in
their depths the reflection of her own beauty, and lingers delighted
within the influence of the charm she herself created. But what a
philanthropist is the world! A universal spirit of love exists around
us, and beneath its outstretched wings throbs the everlasting heart of
the universe, distributing through its rosy channels that refreshing
stream which is the life, the strength, the humanity of nature. What a
wonder is the world! All within the boundless circle of infinity, with a
harmony of soul-entrancing modulations, tune the same music to the ear.
Systems of worlds, and worlds of systems--each earth blessed with its
own sun, moon, and stars, that fill its atmosphere with gladness, and
its waters with delight, rejoicing in the abundance in which it rears
its countless offspring, that draw their verdure, their fragrance, and
their consummate grace, from the exhaustless nourishment of its breast,
rolls on in one unvarying course, carrying with it the fond desires of
youth, the proud ambition of manhood, and the peaceful speculations
of age; while, as the stream of Time progresses on its way to float
them into the shoreless ocean of Eternity, its own nature, keeping a
continual change in all things which have from it their existence, from
the beginning hath followed its particular path in the glad possession
of a perpetual youth. What a gladness is the world! There is not a
creature born of its most fruitful womb that is not taught to slake its
thirst and bathe its buoyant limbs in the fountain of delight that flows
for all. Smiles and flowers are about us from our infancy. The air
breathes of gladness. The clear firmament looks down on us in bliss.
The leaves that quiver in the breeze dance for joy, and the stream that
wandereth on its way singeth its own merry tune. The voice of song
murmurs a continual carol that stirs the hearts of the antique forest
trees, and the echoes of the mighty hills--in swelling tones the
vigorous wind joins in the thrilling harmony--and as the natural concert
rises into power, into its gladdening sounds the deep sea roars its
triumphant chorus."
"You are eloquent, Zabra!" remarked Oriel, gazing with wondering eyes
upon the handsome countenance of his companion, which appeared more than
usually excited.
"'T is a fit time, and a most fitting subject for eloquence," he
replied; "and if the soul hath such impulses, never were they more
likely to be called into action than on such an occasion, and with such
a theme as I have now. We are again upon the sea. That is sufficient
impetus for the thought. We have left the dwellings of men whose souls
were devoted to the mere scraping together wealth they would not use for
any benefit to their fellow-creatures, and could not expend with any
happiness to themselves."
"Ay, I am glad I have escaped from the place," said the young merchant.
"It has given me every thing but a favourable impression of the
pleasures of traffic. Each person I met seemed anxiously intent upon
cheating me; and, if I had not been carefully attentive to my father's
instructions, before I had left their filthy town I should have been
plundered of every bale of goods in my possession. As for Master Boor,
he is as fine a sample of deliberate roguery as I ever met with."
"He is worse than that, or I am much mistaken," remarked Zabra,
earnestly. "I have not been able to collect sufficient proof, but I
strongly suspect, from observation I have made, that he is connected
with your captain, whom he praised so much, in some deep-laid scheme of
treachery, of which you are to be the sufferer."
"Impossible!" exclaimed Oriel. "That Boor would cheat his own father,
I believe; but I don't think he would act the villain, except in the
general routine of business:--as for Compass, there's no harm in
him--the freedom of his language and the unprepossessing character of
his manners are likely to create an unfavourable impression in any
observer. Besides, he is alone in the ship, or nearly so. He is not
at all popular with the crew, and were he to attempt any thing, the
majority would rise in my favour. No, no, Zabra, your suspicions must
be groundless."
"Who are those strange men that have come on board?" asked his
companion, in a whisper.
"Those in long frocks and straw hats? They are some poor agricultural
labourers that have begged a free passage from the captain, which, at
his desire, I have granted."
"I have received information, through the boy Loop, from old Hearty,
whose fidelity I can depend on, that these men are not what they appear
to be; that they are evidently sailors, and, from their countenances
alone, I should imagine that they are here for no good purpose," said
Zabra.
"Ha!" exclaimed Oriel Porphyry, for the first time entertaining a
suspicion of the captain's intentions.
"Hush!" whispered Zabra, clutching his companion firmly at the arm,
while the expression of his features became intensely anxious.
"Heard you that?"
It was a stifled scream. While both listened in great excitement, it was
followed by a discharge of fire-arms, a clashing of weapons, shouts,
imprecations, and yells of agony; and immediately afterwards Hearty,
Boggle, Ardent, Climberkin, and about half a dozen others, rushed
upon deck, followed by Captain Compass, Scrumpydike, and the gang of
ruffians described in the last chapter, fighting furiously; and, though
streaming blood from many wounds, obstinately disputing every inch of
ground.
"I have no weapon, but I must find one!" cried the young merchant,
attempting to break from his companion.
"Move not for your life, Oriel," said his companion, earnestly, as he
held him more firmly. "You can only be slaughtered, without conferring
the slightest assistance, for see, the unequal struggle is over."
A loud cheer from the ruffians proclaimed the truth of Zabra's
intimation. The faithful few were either killed, or so wounded as to be
unable to continue the contest, and the victors were rejoicing at their
triumph. Oriel Porphyry was not allowed many moments to consider of what
he had best do, when Compass, Scrumpydike, and two or three of their
associates, came hastily towards the place where he stood, flourishing
their bloody weapons, and shouting their riotous hurras.
"Captain Compass!" exclaimed Oriel proudly, as the party advanced,
"what is the meaning of this bloodshed?"
"Beg your pardon, Master Porphyry," he replied, "I have the honour of
being Captain Death; ey, boys?" said he turning to his men, and the
appeal was answered by a noisy demonstration of applause. "Yes, I am
Captain Death, the most distinguished leader of the Free Mariners in
these seas; and I beg to inform you, that I now hold the ship and all it
contains for the benefit of myself and brave companions; ey, boys?" and
the inquiry met with a similar reply.
"And I begs to add to what the cap'ain says," observed Scrumpydike,
giving his ugly countenance a more ludicrous twist than ever, "that I'm
Leevetenant Rifle, very much at your sarvice, gennlemen; and if you has
the slightest 'clination to end your miserable lives, I'll do the job
handsome, and to show my respect for ye, wo'n't charge ye nothin'"--a
riotous roar of laughter followed.
"You need not be afraid, Master Gloomy," cried the captain, noticing
that Zabra trembled as he clung to Oriel Porphyry--"your pretty
countenance shan't be spoilt just yet, at any rate, if you behave
yourself; and as for you, Master Porphyry! your life shall be spared,
and those of your men who may have survived this conflict, on condition
that you follow my directions regarding your conduct; but the slightest
show of disobedience will be punished with instant death to yourself and
all who belong to you."
By this time Professor Fortyfolios and Doctor Tourniquet had hurried
upon deck, and with much appearance of apprehension had joined the
group.
"What is this dispute about, captain?" asked the professor, looking
fearfully upon the threatening faces he saw around him. "Let us argue
the matter coolly."
"The dispute is settled, Professor Fortyfolios, and these are my
arguments," said the pirate, pointing to the bloody weapons of his
companions. The professor was convinced without inquiry; and the
perspiration seemed to break out over his bald head as if he had taken
a shower bath.
"This looks very much like an act of piracy, don't you see," remarked
the incautious Tourniquet.
"So like, that there can be no difference," replied the pirate; "and you
look as if you had a great desire for a swing from the fore-yard arm,
or a plunge under the bows, don't you see. But you are too useful at
present, so look to the wounded, Doctor Tourniquet, or I'll have you
hanged before you can suspect any thing about it."
The doctor's ruddy features grew pale with fear, and he made his way to
his patients without loss of time.
"Master Porphyry, you had better go to your cabin," said the captain,
"and your shadow may go with you; but if I notice any treachery in
either, you shall not have time to say a prayer." The friends left the
deck together without a reply.
"And now, boys, hey for Madagascar; and as this job's done, you may
set your hearts afloat as much as you like." A cheer followed the
announcement--the liquor was soon in requisition; and the pirates
became so incapable of taking care of themselves, that if the defenders
of the ship who were alive had not been disabled by their wounds, the
Albatross might have been retaken the same evening.
The wounded men were lying where they had fallen when the doctor arrived
amongst them. In a moment his fear for himself disappeared in his
anxiety for the poor fellows who so much required his assistance.
"Here, Loop!" he cried as soon as he noticed the lad, unhurt,
endeavouring to support his wounded relative. "Run into my cabin, and
you will find on the table there a case of instruments, bring them here,
look in at the cook room as you return, and ask Roly Poly to let me have
a basin of warm water instantly, for I have immediate want for it, don't
you see." The boy, with tears in his eyes, left old Hearty to the care
of the surgeon, and hastened to obey his instructions.
"Well, old friend!" exclaimed he, taking the sailor by the hand, "where
are you hurt? Ah, I perceive--ugly gash in the face--don't you see--any
thing else?"
"Arm cut to the bone, and shot through the body," said the man faintly.
"Bad," replied the doctor; "but cheer up. I've put worse things than
that to rights, don't you see. There, let me take off your jacket. Don't
exert yourself: I'll do it. You've lost a good deal of blood, my friend,
and feel a little sickish or so. Never mind that. Now let me move your
shirt from the wound. Tut, tut," he exclaimed, as the man seemed to
shrink with pain when the linen was withdrawn from the lacerated flesh.
"You must learn to bear pain, don't you see. Wo'n't hurt you more than I
can help." He then minutely examined his patient's hurts. "Bad gun-shot
wound that; but the bullet's taken a more favourable direction than I
expected, don't you see. Ugly cut this in the arm; muscles cut through;
arteries severed; requires much attention. Gash in the face don't look
well, but is in no way alarming. So, old friend, cheer up; you're
wounded severely, but not mortally, don't you see."
"Don't care about it, sir," replied Hearty, in a more feeble voice than
usual. "Don't care if I had as many holes in me as a sieve; but to be
circumwented in this here 'bominable way by a set o' rascally pirates
arn't to be endured."
"Hush!" exclaimed Tourniquet, looking round him anxiously, to see if any
of the victors were within hearing. "You must be cautious of what you
say, don't you see."
"While I a got a breath o' wind in the canvass I'll tell 'em they're
a set o' murderin' thieves," cried the brave old fellow, with all his
remaining strength.
"Hush, I tell you!" said the alarmed doctor. "Do you want to have me
murdered as well as yourself? Keep your tongue still, or every soul of
us left alive in the ship will be massacred."
"Where's Master Porphyry?" asked the man, languidly.
"Safe," replied the surgeon.
"Glad on't. And Master Zabra, they arn't a done him no harm, the
villains?" he inquired anxiously.
"Both are unhurt," said Tourniquet, in a whisper; "and the only way you
can keep them so, is to remain as quiet as possible, and say nothing
to incense your conquerors; and who knows, but that after you have
recovered, you may have an opportunity of doing them some service, don't
you see."
"The very thought a'most sets me on my legs again," observed his
patient, clasping the doctor's hand affectionately.
"Hush," he exclaimed, "here comes Roly Poly and Loop, at last."
"Oh, massa!" cried the black, as he rubbed his sleepy eyes with one
hand, while carrying the basin of water with the other--"Sockin' doin's!
Sockin' doin's! Me was takin' bit of nap, and heard nuttin. But who'd o'
ebber tort ob such obstroplousness."
"Hold your tongue, Roly Poly," said the surgeon, as he proceeded to
cleanse, to dress, and bind up the wounds. "Hold your tongue, and bring
the basin nearer I can't reach it, don't you see."
"Yes, massa, me see berry well," replied the fat cook, heedless of the
injunction he had heard. "Sorry for poor Massa Hearty; him look done to
a turn, poor fellar. Him nebber eat no more puddin'; no more soup; no
more meat; no more nuttin, as Roly Poly cooks so boofliful. Sorry for
him."
"Hold your tongue, sir, directly," exclaimed the doctor, with more
emphasis.
"Yes, massa," responded Roly Poly, and in a moment afterwards
recommenced. "Massa Hearty, him berry good man. Him eat ebry thin' me
cook, and ax no 'pertinent questions. Nebber turn up him nose when him
find bacca in him soup, or lump o' soap in him puddin'. Sorry for him,
poor fellar."
"Will you hold your tongue, sir?" said Doctor Tourniquet, angrily, "and
help to carry the patient to his hammock. Talk to him on your peril,
sir. He requires rest, don't you see."
"Yes, massa," he replied, assisting to support the wounded man; but he
had not proceeded a yard before his voice was heard running on as fast
as ever. "Wo'n't say word more. Hate a fellar as can't hold him tongue
when him told. Al'ays talkee, talkee. Mornin' till night him foolis
tongue nebber hab no peace. He go talkee, talkee, to eb'ry body; foolis'
fellar! Poor man, him want rest; nebber mind, him not hold him tongue
bit more. Hate a fellar as can't hold him tongue when him told." And so
he continued till he left old Hearty in his hammock.
The next person the doctor approached was lying on his back motionless.
A brief inspection seemed sufficient. He shook his head and passed on
towards a man who was supporting his back against the mast. His face was
pale, and his look haggard, and he seemed trying with a handkerchief to
stop the blood that was oozing from his side.
"Not much hurt, I hope?" was Doctor Tourniquet's first inquiry.
"Why, sir, I likes to have particular notions o' things in general, as
every man as is a man, and thinks like a man, should have, and I must
say," said he, slowly and faintly, "as I've a notion, as I'm right down
reglarly spiflicated;" and immediately afterwards his head fell upon his
shoulder, his back glided from its support, and he fell flat upon the
deck.
"Bad look that," remarked the surgeon, kneeling down beside his patient,
whom he proceeded to examine. "Bad look--but 'tis only a swoon. He'll
recover presently, and in the mean time I'll look at the wound. Ah!
unpromising case. Dangerous thrust that; don't like it by any means,
but if he is tractable he may get over it. Well, my friend," exclaimed
Tourniquet, perceiving his patient open his eyes and look wildly about
him, "your case is not so desperate as you imagine; and if you are
attentive to what I tell you, it's very possible I shall be able to
make you safe and sound again, don't you see."
After doing what he thought necessary, he ordered him off to his
hammock, and proceeded to the others. Ardent was found suffering from
severe fracture of the skull; Climberkin had fainted from loss of
blood, having been wounded in nearly a dozen different places, but
none of them were dangerous; five others had received the same rough
treatment, who were expected to recover, and seven more were either dead
or dying. As Doctor Tourniquet was placing a bandage on the last of his
patients, he heard the pirates, who had been joining in a wild uproar
the whole of the time he had been engaged upon the wounded, shouting as
loud as they could bawl,--
"We stifle ev'ry cry,
Ev'ry cry, ev'ry cry,
We stifle ev'ry cry, Captain Death!
And then we spread our sails, that are filled with welcome gales,
Singing, 'Dead men tell no tales,
Captain Death! Captain Death!'
Singing, 'Dead men tell no tales, Captain Death!'"
The surgeon shuddered as he collected together his instruments, and with
a heart full of anxiety for the fate of himself and his companions
proceeded to his cabin.