About an hour afterwards a fine breeze sprang up from the north-east,
and, putting the boat before it, George seated himself in the stern,
tiller in hand, and steered as near a southerly course as the boat,
without canvas, would go.
Very gloomy and despondent were his thoughts as he sat there, idly
watching the crisp-curling waves racing past. One of the trio had
passed away, and, without food or water, without mast or sail, with
their strength rapidly ebbing away, the situation of the remaining two
was hourly growing more critical. Had they not had the misfortune to
lose both mast and sail, George would have endeavoured to return to the
Isle of Pines; but to do so with the oars alone, now that they had
scarcely strength to use them, was impossible. There was no
alternative, therefore, but to wait patiently, and hope that they might
be picked up before it should be too late.
The boat drifted on hour after hour, the sun rose, the wave-crests
sparkled and glanced under his cheering rays, and still the horizon
remained sail-less. At last Tom, after stirring uneasily, awoke from
his stupor, glanced with eager, haggard eyes around him, and uttered a
groan of despair.
"Then it is _not_ true, after all," he gasped; and George noticed with
consternation the difficulty with which the poor fellow
articulated,--"it is _not_ true; it was only a dream."
"What was a dream, Tom?" asked George, and he started at the hollow
sepulchral tones of his own voice.
"I dreamt that a noble ship had hove in sight and was bearing down upon
us under stunsails. She was painted white from her truck down to her
water-line; her canvas was white as snow; she was flying a great white
flag from her main-royal-masthead, and the people on board her were all
dressed in white. It was a grand sight to see her sweeping down toward
us, with the cool clear water flashing up under her sharp bows, and
there was--ah! see, it was no dream, after all; hurrah! she comes--_she
comes_!"
And the poor fellow pointed away to where the rays of the sun fell upon
the water in a broad white dazzling glare.
"Merciful Heaven!" muttered George, "this is horrible; the lad is out of
his senses, gone mad with hunger and thirst. Sit down, Tom," said he
coaxingly, "sit down, there's a good fellow; I can see no ship. What
you see is only the glare of the sun on the water. But if we are only
patient, please God, a ship _will_ come and pick us up before long. But
we must be cool and steady, and keep a sharp lookout, so that when she
heaves in sight we may be ready to signal to her."
Tom passed his hand wearily over his forehead, shaded his eyes with his
hand, again peered long and anxiously over the gleaming sea, and shook
his head despondingly. The bright vision had vanished, and he sank
moodily down in the bottom of the boat, his arms resting upon the
thwart, and his head bowed upon them.
Oh! that terrible time of _waiting_; with the sun beating mercilessly
down upon their uncovered heads and scorching up their brains; with the
hellish tortures of hunger and thirst, already unendurable, momentarily
increasing in intensity; with a horrible feeling of deadly weakness fast
paralysing their energies and dragging like leaden weights upon their
aching limbs, what wonder that each moment lagged until it seemed an
hour, each minute a day, and that the hours stretched themselves out
into eternities of overwhelming anguish! At last George feebly felt,
with a curious mingling of despair and relief, that his own senses were
leaving him. Soon the boat was--to his disordered vision--no longer
drifting helplessly upon a lonely sea; she was tranquilly gliding under
silken sails up the winding reaches of a gently flowing stream, the
crystal waters of which flowed over golden sands and between banks of
richest flowery verdure, with overshadowing trees whose boughs drooped
beneath their load of blushing fruit; whilst, in the distance, palaces
of whitest marble gleamed amid the many-tinted foliage, and all the air
was musical with the songs of birds. He no longer felt the agonies of
hunger or the fiery torment of thirst; he plucked the ripe fruit as the
boat swept gently past, and his pangs were assuaged; he no longer
suffered from the scorching rays of the sun, for a silken awning floated
over his head, and the cool breeze crept refreshingly beneath it and
gently fanned his aching brow; and he no longer suffered from weariness,
for his body reclined upon cushions of the softest down, and he felt
himself gradually sinking into a luxurious slumber under the soothing
influence of the most entrancing melodies.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ou ay; he'll do weel eneuch, he's comin' roun' brawly; it's joost a
plain common case o' starvation an' exposure; there's naething
complicatit about it at a'; pairfect rest and a guid nourishing diet 'll
set him on his pins again in less than a week."
Such were the words which fell upon George Leicester's ear as he once
more became feebly conscious of the fact of his own existence. The
words came to him mingled with other sounds, to wit--the creaking of
bulkheads, the rattling of cabin doors hooked back to allow the free
passage of fresh air, the grinding of a rudder and the clank of
rudder-chains, the sonorous hum of the wind through a ship's rigging,
the flapping of a sail, the distant subdued murmur of men's voices, and
the soft plashing of water. He at the same time became conscious of a
gentle swaying and pitching motion, such as is felt on board a ship
close-hauled, with a moderate breeze and a correspondingly moderate sea.
For a minute or two George felt languidly puzzled as to his whereabouts,
but he was by no means anxious for enlightenment upon the subject; he
was in a state of blissful comfort, and he was quite content to remain
in passive enjoyment of the same, to feel the gentle current of air
softly fanning his brow, to yield himself to the easy, luxurious swing
of the cot in which he was lying, and to listen dreamily to the soothing
sough of the wind and the plash and gurgle of the water along the ship's
side.
It was whilst he remained in this semi-conscious state of beatitude that
another voice broke in, in cheery response to the words of the first
speaker, with--
"That's capital news, doctor; I heartily congratulate you on the
successful result of your efforts. And the other one is also likely to
do well, you say?"
"Ou ay; he'll do weel eneuch, too; though--mind ye--the puir laddie has
had a narrow escape. But they're a' richt the noo; I ken richt weel
what tae do wi' baith noo that I hae succeedit in bringin' back some
signs o' life in them. And noo, captain, if ye'll excuse me, I'll--eh,
weel! hoo's a' wi' ye the noo, my mon?"
This exclamation was elicited by the circumstance that George had at
last mustered sufficient resolution to open his eyes and look curiously
about him.
And this is what he saw. He saw that he was the occupant of a
snow-white canvas cot, which hung suspended from the beams of a ship's
roomy after-cabin, the situation of the apartment being manifested by
the presence of stern-ports fitted with glazed sashes, all of which were
open. There were also two side-ports, one on each side of the cabin,
out of which grinned a couple of eighteen-pound carronades, the
carriages of which, as well as the whole of the gun inside the port,
were painted white. The walls of the cabin, the deck-beams, and the
underside of the deck were also painted white with gilt mouldings; a few
pictures--one of which was the portrait of a lady--were securely
fastened to the walls; the floor was covered with fine matting, and a
large writing-table with three or four solid, substantial-looking chairs
completed the furnishing of the apartment.
But the chief objects of attraction to George were two figures, which
stood beside his cot. One of these was a tall, lanky individual, clad
entirely in white, with red hair, prominent cheek-bones, and a pair of
piercing grey eyes surmounted by shaggy eye-brows. The other was a
shorter, stouter man, light-haired and blue-eyed, a genuine Saxon all
over, his fair complexion tanned to a rich ruddy-brown hue, and with a
hearty, kindly, genial expression of countenance which won George's
heart in an instant. This individual was also in white, his clothing
being reduced to a shirt and a pair of white duck trousers supported at
the waist by a belt. George had no difficulty in deciding that he was
on board one of his Majesty's frigates, and that the persons who stood
beside him were her captain and the medico.
"Hoo's a' wi' ye the noo, my mon?" repeated the doctor, placing his
fingers upon George's pulse.
"I--I--scarcely know," stammered George drowsily. "I feel all right and
very comfortable. Is anything the matter? And--and _where am I_?"
"Ye feel a' richt, do ye?" returned the doctor, ignoring George's
question. "Ye're no' hungry--nor thirsty, eh?"
"Not particularly," answered George. "And yet I think I could take some
breakfast, if it would not be troubling--"
"Brackfast! Hear til him; brackfast! why, mon,"--drawing out a huge,
turnip-like silver watch--"it's nearly sax o'clock p.m. Will a bite o'
dinner no' serve ye as weel? Hech, hech," and the queer, grumpy-looking
visage of the really genial-hearted doctor beamed into a smile, as his
lips uttered the strange sounds which with him passed for laughter.
Doctor Pearson's laughter was infectious, perhaps because of its
singularity. George smiled in response, and Captain Singleton smiled
too; then, turning to the doctor, the latter said--
"My dinner will be served in a few minutes, doctor. If you think it
would not injure your patient, I will send him in something from my
table."
"Weel," responded the doctor with the caution characteristic of his
countrymen, "I'll no' commit mysel' by any positeeve statement just;
I'll wait and see, since ye've been so vera kind as to ask me to dine
wi' ye. But I think I may venture to say that a wee drappie o' soup
will no' hurt the chiel. And noo, wi' your leave, captain, I'll just
tak' the sma' leeberty o' turnin' ye oot o' your ain cabin, as there's
been an ample suffeecency o' conversation for the present."
The captain laughed good-naturedly, and turned, with a friendly nod to
George, to leave the cabin. Doctor Pearson also turned to go, but
paused for an instant to once more feel George's pulse, and then, with
an amiable grunt of satisfaction, he also walked out, saying as he
went--
"Never fash your brains, my mon, by wonderin' whaur ye are. Ye're in
guid han's, ye may tak' my word for it, and in guid time, when ye're
strong eneuch to talk, you'll be told everything. Noo lie still, and
keep your 'ees open for a few minutes, and I'll see that ye hae a decent
bit of dinner sent in til ye."
The worthy doctor was as good as his word; a substantial basin of
nourishing soup, with a small quantity of fresh, white, wholesome
cabin-biscuit broken into it--"soft tack" was a comparatively unknown
luxury at sea in those days--and a glass of port wine being brought in
to George by the captain's steward about ten minutes later; and, having
demolished these, the patient once more dropped off to sleep, and passed
a comfortable night.
Three days more of Doctor Pearson's skilful treatment sufficed to put
both George and Tom upon their pins once more, and then, and not until
then, Captain Singleton asked of the former an account of the
circumstances which had resulted in placing them in the desperate
situation in which they had been found.
"Well," said the captain at the conclusion of George's story, "I
heartily sympathise with you, Mr Leicester, in all that you have
suffered, and I as heartily congratulate you on your plucky escape. It
was rather a clever trick, the way in which those rascals took your ship
from you, I _must_ say that. It is a wrinkle which, possibly, I may
some day play off in turn upon their own countrymen. By your
description of them, I should say that the fellows were undoubtedly
pirates; the sea swarms with them all round about here--indeed, we are
now cruising for the purpose of putting a stop to their depredations,
and were returning from an unsuccessful chase after a very
suspicious-looking schooner when we picked you up. There is one craft
in particular--a barque of undoubtedly English build--which we are most
anxious to lay our hands upon; her crew are a peculiarly bloodthirsty
set of ruffians, and have perpetrated an unusually large number of
atrocities. By-the-bye, did you not say that your vessel was
barque-rigged and a fast sailer? I should not be at all surprised to
find that she is the identical craft we are so anxious to get hold of.
Would you mind giving me a particular description of the _Aurora_?"
George, of course, readily acceded to this request, detailing with
seaman-like fidelity every peculiarity of hull and rigging. When he had
finished, Captain Singleton said--
"Thank you. The set of the spars and rigging, and the cut of the
canvas, does not coincide with the description with which I have been
furnished; but your description of the _hull_ tallies with mine in every
particular, and I have not a doubt that it is the same vessel. And now,
to turn to other matters, what do you propose to do with yourself when
we land you at Kingston?"
"Well," said George, "I scarcely know; but I suppose I shall endeavour
to get a berth on board a homeward-bound ship, or work my passage home.
There is nothing else that I can do, for I am absolutely penniless."
"Well," said Captain Singleton, "if a sufficient sum to defray the
expenses of your passage home would be of any service to you, I dare say
I could manage to raise such an amount, and you shall be heartily
welcome to it."
"Thank you, very much," returned George; "but I could not possibly
accept your exceedingly kind offer, even as a loan, for I could not be
certain of ever being in a position to repay it. No, I shall have to
get a berth of some kind."
Four days after the above conversation the cruise of the _Hebe_
terminated, and on the day following George and Tom found themselves
cast adrift, as it were, in the sandy streets of Kingston.
They were not absolutely penniless, however; for, in addition to a good
serviceable suit of clothes apiece out of the slop-chest, Captain
Singleton had insisted upon George's accepting a ten-pound note, to meet
their more immediate needs, and, being in a friendly port now, the two
seamen had very little doubt of getting employment of some kind or other
before long.
Their idea was first to make the round of the various shipping agents'
offices, and endeavour to obtain a berth on a homeward-bound ship. If
that failed, then George thought they might possibly, aided by Captain
Singleton's influence, obtain work in the dockyard at Port Royal; and,
if the worst came to the worst, they could always depend with absolute
certainty upon being received on board a man-o'-war.
In pursuance of the first-mentioned plan, they were wending their way
along the street, when, as they passed the entrance to a large general
store, they were violently jostled by a man who was making his exit from
the place with considerable precipitation.
"Beg pardon, shipmates, no damage done, I hope. I ought to have kept a
better lookout when crowding sail to the extent--why--why--no, it
_can't_ be; and yet--hang me if it _ain't_, after all. Well, this _is_
a pleasant surprise, and no mistake. Cap'n, how are ye? And you, Tom,
how did them damned slave-drivers treat you?"
It was Mr Bowen, the late chief mate of the _Aurora_. He was dressed
in the somewhat rough garb of the mate of a coasting schooner, but was
looking well and hearty nevertheless, and certainly had nothing of the
appearance of a man who had recently been suffering the horrors of
slavery.
George and Tom both shook hands heartily with their old friend, and then
Mr Bowen--who seemed to be pretty well acquainted with the town--led
the way into a quiet, respectable tavern near the water-side.
Having called for some sangaree in honour of the unexpected and very
agreeable meeting, George, at his friend's request, proceeded to recount
all that had happened since the eventful morning when they were
separated (for life, as each then feared) in the square at Havana. When
he had finished the story, he added--
"And now, Bowen, my dear old friend, let us know how _you_ fared among
the Dons."
"Badly enough, cap'n, badly enough," was the reply. "But you shall hear
the whole story, such as 'tis. Maybe you happen to remember the chap as
bought me--a tall, thin feller, with a nose like the beak of an eagle,
and a wicked look in his glittering black eyes. Well, as soon as this
here Don Christoval--that was his name--as soon as he'd bought all the
slaves he wanted, we was all chained together, and started on a march to
the south'ard. We travelled the whole width of that cursed island,
taking two days over the trip, and was then shipped across in a little
flat-bottomed sailin'-boat to the Isle de Pinos, where this here
Christoval had a big 'baccy plantation. It took us a whole day, after
we'd landed on the Isle of Pines, to reach the place, and on the
following morning we were set to work.
"As it happened, I was the only white slave on the plantation, and,
whether 'twas on this account, or whether 'twas because I was an
Englishman, I can't tell, but I soon found out that all hands, from Don
Christoval downwards, had a special spite against me, and seemed
determined to make the place as hot as they could for me. I was put to
all the heaviest and dirtiest work about the place, and if there was a
job that had to be done after knockin'-off time, I was the man that had
to do it.
"There was nothing but Spanish spoke about the place, so I very soon got
acquainted with the lingo, whether I liked it or not; and almost the
first thing I understood was that Mr Don Christoval had boasted that,
fierce as I was, he'd tame me so that in six months I wouldn't dare to
say my soul was my own.
"Well, you may be sure that my temper hadn't grown much more amiable
from being made a slave of, and this palaver about _taming_ just made me
worse than ever. I vowed by all that was holy I _wouldn't_ be tamed,
let 'em do what they would, and a pretty miserable time of it this
stupid vow and my own obstinacy brought me. They used to amuse
themselves by seein' what they could do to rouse me; the overseers, as
they were riding by, would pull up and begin to abuse and scoff at me,
flicking at me with their whips all the time, and I dare say you know
pretty well how clever those same overseers are with their whips--
they'll hit a fly twenty feet off. And when they'd see my eyes begin to
sparkle, they'd just let out with the infernal whip, fetching me a
regular `stinger' across the shoulders, and gallop off, laughing. I can
tell you, they made a regular devil of me before all was done.
"Well, one morning there was a regular rumpus on the estate. Don
Christoval had sold some cattle the day before, and had been paid for
'em. The money was stowed carefully away by him when he turned in that
night, and next morning 'twas gone--somebody'd crept into the house
during the night, and had stole it. Well, as there was nobody about the
estate but the regular hands, it was clear enough that some of these
must have got hold of the cash, and the lying scoundrels had the
impudence to say that I was the thief. They came down, two of the
overseers did, and searched my hut fore and aft, from deck to keelson;
but, of course, they didn't find it, for the simple reason that I hadn't
took it. Hows'ever, they would insist that I knew where 'twas, and at
last they dragged me up to the house, and told the Don that I'd took it,
but that they couldn't find it because I'd hid it away somewhere.
"The Don happened to be just starting off for a ride, and was mounted on
a splendid black horse. He sat there in the saddle and listened to all
that the overseers had to say, and when they'd finished, he spurred his
horse at me, and swearing that he'd get the secret out of me, if he had
to cut my heart out to find it, raised his heavy riding-whip, and made a
slash at me.
"Well, cap'n, and Tom, old shipmate, you needn't be told that I had
already been made pretty savage by all this business, and when this
hawk-nosed Don Christoval struck out at me, why, it just roused all the
devil there was in me. I put up my hand--so--as if to ward off the
stroke, and as the whip came down, I caught it in my hand, wrenched it
out of the Don's grasp, and, as quick as lightning, returned the blow
with all my strength, lashing him fair across the face and cutting his
cheek open. He reeled backwards in his saddle, and I, first letting out
right and left at the two overseers, who stood one on each side of me,
and bowling them over like a couple of ninepins, sprang upon him, seized
him by the collar, and dragged him out of his saddle, and, leaping upon
the frightened horse's back, gave the poor brute a lash across the
flank, which sent him flying down the road, through the 'baccy plants,
and out upon the open country like a shot out of a shovel.
"Well, I don't know that I'd ever been on horseback in my life before,
but somehow I managed to stick to the saddle, it didn't seem at all
difficult, and on I went, straight ahead, as fast as the horse could
gallop, for an hour or more, and then we fetched up somewhere on the
shore. There was a schooner in the offing with the British flag flying
at her gaff-end, and, as luck would have it, I'd just managed to hit the
spot where a boat's crew belonging to her were ashore, filling up their
fresh water. I told the middy in charge who and what I was, and he
shoved off at once with me, took me aboard, and told the lieutenant in
command all about me; and, after knocking about with 'em for a
fortnight, I landed here, just six months ago. And that ends my yarn."
"And what have you been doing since then?" asked George, after
congratulating Bowen on his escape.
"Well, cap'n," was the reply, "I never once forgot the promise I made to
you the day we were separated in Havana. I felt certain that you'd
manage to get away somehow some day; and I felt just as certain that,
sooner or later, you'd turn up here in Kingston. So, as soon as I was
landed here, I made inquiries, and, not being able to learn that
anything had been heard of you, I just looked about me a bit, and got a
berth on board a little coaster, so's to be on the spot whenever you
might happen to turn up. I'd told our story pretty freely here in
Kingston, so that, even if I'd happened to have been at sea at the time,
there's plenty of people that would have taken you in tow, and provided
you with the needful until I came in again. Now that you've put in an
appearance, of course I shall throw up my berth, and we'll all sink or
swim together."
"Thanks, Bowen, thanks; that's just like your disinterestedness,"
answered George; "but what are we to do? The only thing I can see for
it is to get berths, if possible, on board some homeward-bounder."
"Homeward-bounder?" exclaimed Bowen with contemptuous emphasis, "why--
but there, I suppose you don't know anything about it, or you wouldn't
talk like that."
"About what?" asked George, completely mystified.
"Why, about our prize that we took that dark night on the passage out--
the privateer brig--the _Jeune Virginie_. She's lying down there at
Port Royal, safe and sound, with a British crew on board her; and all
you've got to do, cap'n, is to make your claim, and establish your
identity, and the ship or her value will be handed over to you."
"Is it possible?" exclaimed George. "Then we are lucky indeed. But you
must explain the whole affair to me."
"That's easy enough," answered Bowen. "The very first time I entered
Port Royal harbour I saw the craft lying there, and knew her again at
once. Thinks I to myself, `Now, Dick Bowen, my lad, your first duty is
to recover possession of that prize on behalf of the skipper.' So off I
goes to the admiral, stated my case, and made my claim.
"`That's all very well, my fine fellow,' says he, `and I don't doubt but
what you're telling the truth; but, you see,' says he, `you can't
_prove_ it. Now I _must_ have something beyond your bare word before I
give up possession of the brig. When you can bring me something in the
shape of proof that what you say is true, come to me again, and I'll see
what can be done in the matter.'
"Of course that was all right and straight-for'ard enough, so I went
away, and troubled no more about it. The craft is safe enough; they've
been using her as a cruiser, and taking care of her, and I don't doubt
but what she's in just as good order as she was on the night when we
took her. And now, all we've got to do is to go to the admiral again,
and make our claim. There's _three_ of us this time, so that there'll
be no difficulty at all in getting her delivered over to us."