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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #50598 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50598)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Dark Frigate, by Charles Boardman Hawes
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Dark Frigate
-
-Author: Charles Boardman Hawes
-
-Release Date: December 3, 2015 [EBook #50598]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DARK FRIGATE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- THE DARK FRIGATE
-
- Wherein is told the story of _Philip Marsham_
- who lived in the time of King Charles
- and was bred a sailor
- but came home to England after many hazards
- by sea and land and fought for the King at Newbury
- and lost a great inheritance and departed for Barbados
- in the same ship, by curious chance, in which
- he had long before adventured
- with the pirates.
-
- BY CHARLES BOARDMAN HAWES
-
- _Frontispiece in Color by_
- ANTON OTTO FISCHER
-
- _AN ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS BOOK_
- LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY
- BOSTON
-
- _Copyright, 1923_,
- BY THE TORBELL COMPANY
- (Publishers of _The Open Road_)
-
- _Copyright, 1923_,
- BY THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS, INC.
-
- _Copyright, 1934_,
- BY LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY
-
- _All rights reserved_
-
- _Twentieth Printing_
-
- THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS BOOKS
- ARE PUBLISHED BY
- LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
- IN ASSOCIATION WITH
- THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY COMPANY
-
- PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
-
- [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any
- evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: _With her great sails spread she thrust her nose into the
-heavy swell._]
-
-
-
-
- TO
- GEORGE W. CABLE
- WITH WARM ADMIRATION AND FILIAL AFFECTION
-
-
-
-
- From _curious old books, many of them forgotten save
- by students of archaic days at sea, I have taken
- words and phrases and incidents. The words and phrases
- I have put into the talk of the men of the Rose of Devon;
- the incidents I have shaped and fitted anew to serve my
- purpose_.
-
- C. B. H.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- CHAPTER PAGE
-
- I FLIGHT 3
-
- II A LEAL MAN AND A FOOL 11
-
- III TWO SAILORS ON FOOT 26
-
- IV THE GIRL AT THE INN 35
-
- V SIR JOHN BRISTOL 45
-
- VI THE ROSE OF DEVON 57
-
- VII THE SHIP'S LIAR 75
-
- VIII STORM 83
-
- IX THE MASTER'S GUEST 94
-
- X BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND MORNING 101
-
- XI HEAD WINDS AND A ROUGH SEA 108
-
- XII THE PORCUPINE KETCH 120
-
- XIII A BIRD TO BE LIMED 137
-
- XIV A WONDERFUL EXCELLENT COOK 144
-
- XV A LONESOME LITTLE TOWN 158
-
- XVI THE HARBOUR OF REFUGE 171
-
- XVII WILL CANTY 182
-
- XVIII TOM JORDAN'S MERCY 192
-
- XIX A MAN SEEN BEFORE 198
-
- XX A PRIZE FOR THE TAKING 208
-
- XXI ILL WORDS COME TRUE 215
-
- XXII BACK TO THE INN 231
-
- XXIII AND OLD SIR JOHN 237
-
- XXIV AND AGAIN THE ROSE OF DEVON 242
-
-
-
-
-THE DARK FRIGATE
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-FLIGHT
-
-
-Philip Marsham was bred to the sea as far back as the days when he was
-cutting his milk teeth, and he never thought he should leave it; but
-leave it he did, once and again, as I shall tell you.
-
-His father was master of a London ketch, and they say that before the
-boy could stand unaided on his two feet he would lean himself, as a
-child does, against the waist in a seaway, and never pipe a whimper
-when she thrust her bows down and shipped enough water to douse him
-from head to heels. He lost his mother before he went into breeches and
-he was climbing the rigging before he could walk alone. He spent two
-years at school to the good Dr. Josiah Arber at Roehampton, for his
-father, being a clergyman's son who had run wild in his youth, hoped
-to do better by the lad than he had done by himself, and was of a mind
-to send Philip home a scholar to make peace with the grandparents, in
-the vicarage at Little Grimsby, whom Tom Marsham had not seen in twenty
-years. But the boy was his father over again, and taking to books with
-an ill grace, he endured them only until he had learned to read and
-write and had laid such foundation of mathematics as he hoped would
-serve his purpose when he came to study navigation. Then, running away
-by night from his master's house, he joined his father on board the
-Sarah ketch, who laughed mightily to see how his son took after him, do
-what he would to make a scholar of the lad. And but for the mercy of
-God, which laid Philip Marsham on his back with a fever in the spring
-of his nineteenth year, he had gone down with his father in the ketch
-Sarah, the night she foundered off the North Foreland.
-
-Moll Stevens kept him, while he lay ill with the fever, in her alehouse
-in High Street, in the borough of Southwark, and she was good to him
-after her fashion, for her heart was set on marrying his father. But
-though she had brought Tom Marsham to heel and had named the day,
-nothing is sure till the words are said.
-
-When they had news which there was no doubting that Tom Marsham was
-lost at sea, she was of a mind to send the boy out of her house the
-hour he was able to walk thence; and so she would have done, if God's
-providence had not found means to renew his strength before the time
-and send him packing in wonderful haste, with Moll Stevens and certain
-others after him in full cry.
-
-For the third day he had come down from his chamber and had taken the
-great chair by the fire, when there entered a huge-bellied countryman
-who carried a gun of a kind not familiar to those in the house.
-
-"Ah," Phil heard them whispering, as he sat in the great chair, "here's
-Jamie Barwick come back again." Then they called out, "Welcome, Jamie,
-and good-morrow!"
-
-Philip Marsham would have liked well to see the gun himself, since a
-taste for such gear was born in him; but he had been long bedridden,
-and though he could easily have walked over to look at it, he let well
-enough alone and stayed where he was.
-
-They passed it from one to another and marvelled at the craftsmanship,
-and when they let the butt fall on the floor, the pots rang and the
-cans tinkled. And now one cried, "Have care which way you point the
-muzzle." But the countryman who brought it laughed and declared there
-was no danger, for though it was charged he had spent all his powder
-and had not primed it.
-
-At last he took it from them all and, spying Moll Stevens, who had
-heard the bustle and had come to learn the cause, he called for a can
-of ale. There was no place at hand to set down his gun so he turned to
-the lad in the chair and cried, "Here, whiteface with the great eyes,
-take my piece and keep it for me. I am dry--Oh, so dry! Keep it till
-I have drunk, and gramercy. A can of ale, I say! Hostess! Moll! Moll!
-Where art thou? A can of ale!"
-
-He flung himself down on a bench and mopped his forehead with his
-sleeve. He was a huge great man with a vast belly and a deep voice and
-a fat red face that was smiling one minute and frowning the next.
-
-"Ho! Hostess!" he roared again. "Ale, ale! A can of ale! Moll, I say! A
-can of ale!"
-
-A hush had fallen upon the room at his first summons, for he had been
-quiet so long after entering that his clamour amazed all who were
-present, unless they had known him before, and they now stole glances
-at him and at one another and at Moll Stevens, who came bustling in
-again, her face as red as his own, for she was his match in girth and
-temper.
-
-"Here then!" she snapped, and thumped the can down before him on the
-great oaken table.
-
-He blew off the topmost foam and thrust his hot face into the ale, but
-not so deep that he could not send Phil Marsham a wink over the rim.
-
-This Moll perceived and in turn shot at the lad a glance so
-ill-tempered that any one who saw it must know she rued the day she had
-taken him under her roof in his illness. He had got many such a glance
-since word came that his father was lost, and more than glances, too,
-for as soon as Moll knew there was nothing to gain by keeping his good
-will she had berated him like the vixen she was at heart, although he
-was then too ill to raise his head from the sheet.
-
-It was a sad plight for a lad whose grandfather was a gentleman
-(although he had never seen the old man), and there had been times when
-he would almost have gone back to school and have swallowed without a
-whimper the Latin and Greek. But he was stronger now and nearer able to
-fend for himself and it was in his mind, as he sat in the great chair
-with the gun, that after a few days at longest he would pay the score
-in silver from his chest upstairs, and take leave for ever of Moll
-Stevens and her alehouse. So now, giving her no heed, he began fondling
-the fat countryman's piece.
-
-The stock was of walnut, polished until a man could see his face in it,
-and the barrel was of steel chased from breech to muzzle and inlaid
-with gold and silver. Small wonder that all had been eager to handle
-it, the lad thought. He saw others in the room furtively observing the
-gun, and he knew there were men not a hundred leagues away who would
-have killed the owner to take it. He even bethought himself, having no
-lack of conceit in such matters, that the man had done well to pick
-Phil Marsham to keep it while he drank his ale.
-
-The fellow had gone to the opposite corner of the room and had taken a
-deep seat just beneath the three long shelves on which stood the three
-rows of fine platters that were the pride of Moll Stevens's heart.
-
-The platters caught the lad's eye and, raising the gun, he presented
-it at the uppermost row. Supposing it were loaded and primed, he
-thought, what a stir and clatter it would make to fire the charge! He
-smiled, cocked the gun, and rested his finger on the trigger; but he
-was over weak to hold the gun steady. As he let the muzzle fall, his
-hand slipped. His throat tightened like a cramp. His hair, he verily
-believed, rose on end. The gun--primed or no--went off.
-
-He had so far lowered the muzzle that not a shot struck the topmost
-row of platters, but of the second lower row, not one platter was
-left standing. The splinters flew in a shower over the whole room,
-and a dozen stray shots--for the gun was charged to shoot small
-birds--peppered the fat man about the face and ear. Worst of all, by
-far, to make good measure of the clatter and clamour, the great mass of
-the charge, which by grace of God avoided the fat man's head although
-the wind of it raised his hair, struck fairly a butt of Moll Stevens's
-richest sack, which six men had raised on a frame to make easier the
-labour of drawing from it, and shattered a stave so that the goodly
-wine poured out as if a greater than Moses had smitten a rock with his
-staff.
-
-Of all in the room, mind you, none was more amazed than Philip Marsham,
-and indeed for a moment his wits were quite numb. He sat with the gun
-in his hands, which was still smoking to show who had done the wicked
-deed, and stared at the splintered platters and at the countryman's
-furious face, on which rivulets of blood were trickling down, and at
-the gurgling flood of wine that was belching out on Moll Stevens's
-dirty floor.
-
-Then in rushed Moll herself with such a face that he hoped never to
-see the like again. She swept the room at a single glance and bawling,
-"As I live, 't is that tike, Philip Marsham! Paddock! Hound! Devil's
-imp!"--at him she came, a billet of Flanders brick in her hand.
-
-He was of no mind to try the quality of her scouring, for although she
-knew not the meaning of a clean house, she was a brawny wench and her
-hand and her brick were as rough as her tongue. Further, he perceived
-that there were others to reckon with, for the countryman was on his
-feet with a murderous look in his eye and there were six besides him
-who had started up. Although Phil had little wish to play hare to their
-hounds, since the fever had left him fit for neither fighting nor
-running, there was urgent need that he act soon and to a purpose, for
-Moll and her Flanders brick were upon him.
-
-Warmed by the smell of the good wine run to waste, and marvellously
-strengthened by the danger of bodily harm if once they laid hands on
-him, he got out of the great chair as nimbly as if he had not spent
-three weeks in bed, and, turning like a fox, slipped through the door.
-
-God was good to Philip Marsham, for the gun, as he dropped it,
-tripped Moll Stevens and sent her sprawling on the threshold; the fat
-countryman, thinking more of his property than his injury, stooped for
-the gun; and those two so filled the door that the six were stoppered
-in the alehouse until with the whoo-bub ringing in his ears Phil had
-got him out of sight. He had the craft, though they then came after him
-like hounds let slip, to turn aside and take to earth in a trench hard
-by, and to lie in hiding there until the hue and cry had come and gone.
-In faith, he had neither the wind nor the strength to run farther.
-
-It was "Stop thief!"--"Murder's done!"--"Attach the knave!"--"Help!
-Help!"
-
-Who had dug the trench that was his hiding-place he never knew, but it
-lay not a furlong from the alehouse door, and as he tumbled into it and
-sprawled flat on the wet earth he gave the man an orphan's blessing.
-The hue and cry passed him and went racing down the river; and when
-the yells had grown fainter, and at last had died quite away, he got
-up out of the trench and walked as fast as he could in the opposite
-direction, stopping often to rest, until he had left Moll Stevens's
-alehouse a good mile behind him. He passed a parish beadle, but the
-fellow gave him not a single glance; he passed the crier calling for
-sale the household goods of a man who desired to take his fortune and
-depart for New England, and the crier (who, one would suppose, knew
-everything of the public weal) brushed his coat but hindered him not.
-In the space of a single furlong he met two Puritans on foot, without
-enough hair to cover their ears, and two fine gentlemen on horseback
-whose curls flowed to their shoulders; but neither one nor other gave
-him let. The rabble of higglers and waggoners from the alehouse, headed
-by the countryman, Jamie Barwick, and by Moll Stevens herself, had
-raced far down the river, and Phil Marsham was free to go wherever else
-his discretion bade him.
-
-Now it would have been his second nature to have fled to the docks,
-for he was bred a sailor and could haul and reef and steer with any
-man; but they whom he had no wish to meet had gone that way and in
-his weakness it had been worse than folly to beard them. His patrimony
-was forfeit, for although his father had left him a bag of silver, it
-lay in his chest in Moll Stevens's alehouse, and for fear of hanging
-he dared not go back after it. She was a vindictive shrew and would
-have taken his heart's blood to pay him for his blunder. His father was
-gone and the ketch with him, and, save for a handful of silver the lad
-had about him, he was penniless. So what would a sailor do, think you,
-orphaned and penniless and cut off from the sea, but set himself up for
-a farmer? Phil clapped his hand on his thigh and quietly laughed. That
-a man needed money and skill for husbandry never entered his foolish
-head. Were not husbandmen all fond fellows whom a lively sailor man
-might fleer as he pleased? Nay, they knew not so much as one rope from
-another. Why, then, he would go into the country and set him up as a
-kind of prince among husbandmen, who had, by all reports, plenty of
-good nappy liquor to drink and bread and cheese and meat to eat.
-
-With that he turned his back on the sea and London and on Moll Stevens,
-whom he never saw again. His trafficking with her was well ended, and
-as well ended his father's affair, in my belief; for the woman had a
-bitter temper and a sharp tongue, and there are worse things for a
-free-hearted, jovial man such as Tom Marsham was, than drowning. The
-son owed her nought that the bag in his chest would not repay many
-times over, so he set out with all good courage and with the handful of
-silver that chanced to be in his pocket and, though his legs were weak
-and he must stop often to rest, by nightfall he had gone miles upon his
-way.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-A LEAL MAN AND A FOOL
-
-
-Clouds obscured the sun and a gusty wind set the road-side grasses
-nodding and rustled the leaves of oak and ash. Phil passed between
-green fields into a neat village, where men and women turned to
-look after him as he went, and on into open country, where he came
-at last to a great estate and a porter's lodge and sat him down and
-rested. There was a hoarse clamour from a distant rookery, and the
-wind whispered in two pine trees that grew beside the lodge where a
-gentleman of curious tastes had planted them. A few drops of rain,
-beating on the road and rattling on the leaves of a great oak,
-increased the loneliness that beset him. Where he should lie the night
-he had no notion, or whence his supper was to come; but the shower blew
-past and he pressed on till he came to a little hamlet on the border of
-a heath, where there was a smithy, with a silent man standing by the
-door.
-
-As he passed the smithy the lad stumbled.
-
-The man looked hard at him as if suspecting some trickery; but when
-Phil was about to press on without a word the man asked in a low voice,
-who the de'il gaed yonder on sic like e'en and at sic like hoddin' gait.
-
-At this Phil sat down on a stone, for his weakness had grown on him
-sorely, and replied that whither he was going he neither knew nor
-cared. Whereupon the man, whom he knew by his tongue to be a Scot,
-cried out, "Hech! The lad's falling!" And catching the youth by the
-arm, he lifted him off the stone and led him into the smithy.
-
-Phil found himself in a chair with straight back and sides, but with
-seat and backing woven of broad, loose straps, which seemed as easy as
-the best goose-feathers. "It is nought," he said. "A spell of faintness
-caught me. I'll be going; I must find an inn; I'll be going now."
-
-"Be still. Ye'll na be off sae soon."
-
-The man thrust a splinter of wood into the coals, and lighting
-therewith a candle in a lanthorn, he began rummaging in a cupboard
-behind the forge, whence he drew out a quarter loaf, a plate of cheese,
-a jug, and a deep dish in which there was the half of a meat pie.
-Placing before his guest a table of rough boards blackened with smoke,
-a great spoon, and a pint pot, he poured from the jug a brimming potful
-of cider, boiled with good spices and fermented with yeast.
-
-"A wee healsome drappy," said he, "an' then the guid vittle. Dinna be
-laithfu'."
-
-Raising the pot to his lips the lad drank deep and became aware he was
-famished for food, although he had not until then thought of hunger. As
-he ate, the quarter loaf, the cheese, and the half of a meat pie fell
-victims to his trenchering, and though his host plied the jug to fill
-his cup, when at last he leaned back he had left no morsel of food nor
-drop of drink.
-
-Now, for the first time, he looked about him and gave heed to the
-smoking lanthorn, the dull glow of the dying sea-coals in the forge,
-the stern face of the smith who sat opposite him, and the dark recesses
-of the smithy. Outside was a driving rain and the screech of a gusty
-wind.
-
-It was strange, he thought, that after all his doubts, he was well fed
-and dry and warm. The rain rattled against the walls of the smithy
-and the wind howled. Only to hear the storm was enough to make a man
-shiver, but warmed by the fire in the forge the lad smiled and nodded.
-In a moment he was asleep.
-
-"Cam' ye far?" his host asked in a rough voice.
-
-The lad woke with a start. "From London," he said and again he nodded.
-
-The man ran his fingers through his red beard. "God forgie us!" he
-whispered. "The laddie ha grapit a' the way frae Lon'on."
-
-He got up from his chair and led Phil to a kind of bed in the darkest
-corner, behind the forge, and covered him and left him there. Going to
-the door he looked out into the rain and stood so for a long time.
-
-Two boys, scurrying past in the rain, saw him standing there against
-the dim light of the lanthorn, and hooted in derision. The wind swept
-away their voices so that the words were lost, but one stooped and,
-picking up a stone, flung it at the smithy. It struck the lintel above
-the man's head and the boys with a squeal of glee vanished into the
-rain and darkness. The blood rushed to the man's face and his hand
-slipped under the great leathern apron that he wore.
-
-By morning the storm was gone. The air was clean and cool, and though
-puddles of water stood by the way, the road had so far dried as to give
-good footing. All this Philip Marsham saw through the smithy door, upon
-waking, as he raised himself on his elbow.
-
-He had slept that night with his head behind the cupboard and with his
-feet under the great bellows of the forge, so narrow was the space in
-which the smith had built the cot; and where his host had himself
-slept there was no sign.
-
-The smith now stood in the door. "Na, na," he was saying, "'tis pitch
-an' pay--siller or nought. For the ance ye hae very foully deceived me.
-Ye shall hence-forth hae my wark for siller; or, an ye like--"
-
-A volley of rough laughter came booming into the smithy, and then a
-clatter of hoofs as the man without rode away; but the face of the
-smith was hot as flame when he turned to the forge, and, as he thrust
-his fingers through his red beard, an angry light was in his eyes.
-Reaching for the handle of the bellows, he blew the fire so fiercely
-that the rockstaff and the whole frame swayed and creaked. He then took
-up a bar of metal and, breaking it on the anvil with a great blow of
-the up-hand sledge, studied the grey surface and smiled. He thrust the
-bar into the white coals and with the slicer he clapped the coals about
-it.
-
-Now drawing out the bar a little way to see how it was taking its heat,
-and now thrusting it quickly back again, he brought it to the colour
-of white flame, and, snatching it out with his pliers and laying it on
-the face of the anvil, he shaped it with blow after blow of the hand
-hammer, thrust it again into the coals and blew up the fire, again laid
-it on the anvil, and, smiting it until the sparks flew in showers,
-worked it, with a deftness marvellous in the eyes of the lad, who sat
-agape at the fury of his strokes, into the shape of a dagger or dirk.
-
-At last, heating it in the coals to the redness of blood and throwing
-it on the floor to cool, he paced the smithy, muttering to himself.
-After a time he took it up again and with the files in their order--the
-rough, the bastard, the fine and the smooth--worked it down, now
-trying the surface with fingertips, now plying his file as if the Devil
-were at his elbow and his soul's salvation depended upon haste, until
-the shape and surface pleased him.
-
-He then thrust it again into the coals and blew up the fire softly,
-watching the metal with great care till it came to blood-red heat, when
-he quenched it in a butt of water and, laying it on the bench, rubbed
-it with a whetstone until the black scurf was gone and the metal was
-bright. Again he laid it in the coals and slowly heated it, watching
-with even greater care while the steel turned to the colour of light
-gold and to the colour of dark gold; then with a deft turn of the
-pliers he snatched it out and thrust it deep into the water.
-
-As he had worked, his angry haste had subsided and now, drawing out the
-metal, he studied it closely and smiled. Then he looked up and meeting
-the eyes of Philip Marsham, who had sat for an hour watching him, he
-gave a great start and cried, "God forgie us! I hae clean forgot the
-lad!"
-
-Laying aside his work he pushed before the chair the smoke-stained
-table he had used the night before, placed on it a bowl and a spoon,
-and, setting a small kettle on the forge, blew up the fire until the
-kettle steamed. He then poured porridge from the kettle into the bowl,
-and bringing from the cupboard a second quarter-loaf, nodded at the lad
-and, as an afterthought, remarked, "There's a barrel o' water ahint the
-smiddy, an ye'd wash."
-
-Rising, Phil went out and found the barrel, into which he thrust head
-and hands to his great refreshment; and returning, he sat down to the
-bread and porridge.
-
-While Phil ate, the smith worked at a bit of bone which he shaped to
-his desire as a handle for the dirk.
-
-With light taps of the riveting-hammer he drove it into place and bound
-it fast with ferules chosen from a box under the cot. He then sat
-looking a long time at Phil, nodded, smiled, ran his fingers through
-his beard, smiled again and, with a fine tool, fell to working on the
-ferules. There had been a friendly look in the lad's eyes, and of
-friendly looks the smith had got few in England. People bought his work
-because he was a master craftsman, but the country folk of England
-had little love for the Scots who came south in King James's time and
-after, and a man had need to look sharp lest he fall victim to theft
-or worse than theft. He stopped and again looked at his guest, ran his
-fingers through his beard and demanded suddenly, "Thy name, laddie?"
-
-"Philip Marsham."
-
-"Ye'll spell it out for me?"
-
-This Phil did.
-
-After working a while longer he said as if in afterthought, "Ye'll bide
-wi' me a while?"
-
-"No, I must be on my way."
-
-The man sighed heavily but said only, "I hae ta'en a likin' to ye."
-
-Rising, the lad thrust his hand into his bosom and stood as if to take
-his leave.
-
-"Na, na! Dinna haste! I'll ask ye to gie me help wi' a bit that's yet
-to be done."
-
-The smith turned his work over and over. He had made a dirk with a
-handle of bone bound with silver, and, as he turned it, he examined it
-with utmost care. "'Twill do," he said at last, "and noo for the wark
-that takes twa pair o' hands."
-
-He pointed to a great grindstone.
-
- 'He that will a guid edge win,
- Maun forge thick an' grind thin.'
-
-Sitting down at the grindstone, the lad began to turn it while the
-smith, now dashing water over it, now putting both hands to the work,
-ground the dirk. An hour passed, and a second, with no sound save the
-whir of steel on stone and now and again the muttered words:--
-
- 'He that will a guid edge win,
- Maun forge thick an' grind thin.'
-
-Leaning back at last, he said "'Tis done! An' such wark is better
-suited to a man o' speerit than priggin' farriery."
-
-He tried the edge with his thumb and smiled. From a chip he sliced a
-thin circular shaving that went with and across and against the grain.
-Laying a bit of iron on a board, he cut it clean in two with the dirk
-and the edge showed neither nick nor mark.
-
-Phil rose now, and drew from inside his shirt his small pouch of
-silver. "I'll pay the score," he said.
-
-The Scot stared at him as if he would not believe his ears, then got up
-as if to thrust the dirk between the lad's ribs.
-
-"Those are very foul words," he said thickly. "Nae penny nor plack
-will I take, and were ye a man bearded, I'd leave ye a pudding for the
-hoodie-craw."
-
-The lad reddened and stammered, "I--I--why, I give you thanks and ask
-your pardon."
-
-The smith drew himself up and was about to speak harshly, but he saw
-the lad's eyes filling and knew no harm was intended. He caught his
-breath and bit his beard. "'Tis forgi'en an' forgot," he cried. "I hae
-ta'en a likin' to ye an' here's my hand on't. I hae made ye the dirk
-for a gift an' sin ye maun be on your way, ye shall hae my ane sheath,
-for I've no the time to mak' ye the mate to it e'er ye'll be leavin'
-me."
-
-With that he drew out his dirk, sheath and all, and placing the new
-blade in the old leather, handed it to the lad, saying, "'Tis wrought
-o' Damascus steel and there's not twa smiths in England could gi'e ye
-the like."
-
-So with few words but with warm friendliness they parted, and Philip
-Marsham went away over the heath, wondering how a Scottish smith came
-to be dwelling so many long leagues south of the border. In those days
-there were many Scots to be found in England, who had sought long since
-to better their fortunes by following at the heels of their royal
-countryman; but he had chanced to meet with few of them.
-
-Not until he had gone miles did he draw the dirk and read, cut in fine
-old script on the silver ferule, the legend, _Wrought by Colin Samson
-for Philip Marsham_. There are those who would say it was a miracle out
-of Bible times, but neither Philip Marsham nor I ever saw a Scot yet
-who would not share his supper with a poorer man than himself.
-
-At the end of the day he bought food at a cottage where the wife did
-not scruple to charge him three times the worth of the meal, and
-that night he lay under a hedge; the day thereafter he chanced upon
-a shepherd with whom he passed the night on the hills, and the third
-day he came to an inn where the reckoning took all but a few pence of
-his silver. So as he set out upon his way in the morning, he knew not
-whence his supper was to come or what roof should cover his head.
-
-It was a fine day, with white clouds blowing across a blue sky and all
-the colors as bright as in a painted picture, and there was much for a
-sailor to marvel at. The grass in the meadows waved in the great wind
-like running water. The river in the valley was so small and clear and
-still that, to a man bred at sea, it appeared to be no water at all but
-a toy laid between hills, with toy villages for children on its banks.
-Climbing with light quick steps a knoll from which there was a broader
-prospect, Phil came unawares upon a great thick adder, which lay
-sunning its tawny flanks and black-marked back but which slipped away
-into a thicket at the jar of footsteps. The reptile gave him a lively
-start, but it was soon gone, and from the knoll he saw the valley
-spread before him for miles.
-
-It was a day to be alive and, though Philip Marsham was adrift in a
-strange world, with neither chart nor compass to show the way, his
-strength had at last come back to him and he had the blithe spirit that
-seasons a journey well. His purse was light but he was no lad to be
-stayed for lack of wind, and seeing now a man far ahead of him on the
-road, and perceiving an opportunity to get sailing directions for the
-future, he leaped down from the knoll and set off after the fellow as
-hard as he could post.
-
-The man had gone another mile before Phil overhauled him and by then
-Phil was puffing so loudly that the fellow, who carried a huge book
-under his arm and bore himself very loftily, turned to see what manner
-of creature was at his heels. Although he had the air of a great man,
-his coat was now revealed as worn and spotted and his wristbands were
-dirty. He frowned, bent his head, and pursued his journey in silence.
-
-"Good morrow to you!" Phil cried and fell into step beside him.
-
-The man answered not a word but frowned and hugged his book and walked
-the faster.
-
-At that Phil bustled up and laid hand on his dirk. "Good morrow, I say.
-Hast no tongue between thy teeth?"
-
-The fellow hugged his book the tighter and frowned the darker and
-fiercely shook his head. "Never," he cried, "was a man assaulted with
-such diversity of thoughts! Yet here must come a lobcock lapwing and
-cry 'Good morrow!' I will have you know I am one to bite sooner than to
-bark."
-
-Already he was striding at a furious gait, yet now, giving a hitch to
-his mighty book, he made shift to lengthen his stride and go yet faster.
-
-Unhindered by any such load, Phil pressed at his heels.
-
-"'A lobcock'? 'A lapwing'?" he cried. "Thou puddling quacksalver--"
-
-Stopping short and giving him a look of dark resentment, the fellow
-sadly shook his head. "That was a secret and most venomous blow."
-
-"I gave you good morrow and you returned me nought but ill words."
-
-"The shoe must be made for the foot. I have no desire to go posting
-about the country with a roystering coxcomb but--well--as I say, I have
-no liking for thy company, which consorts ill with the pressure of many
-thoughts; but since you know what you know (and the Devil take him who
-learned you it!), like it or not, I must even keep thy company with
-such grace as may be. Yea, though thou clappest hand to thy weapon
-with such facility that I believe thee sunk to thy neck in the Devil's
-quagmire, bogged in thy sin, and thy hands red with blood."
-
-With that, he set out again but at an ordinary pace, and Phil,
-wonderfully perplexed by his words, fell into his step.
-
-Again the fellow shook his head very sadly. "A secret and most venomous
-blow! Th' art a Devon man?"
-
-"Nay, I never saw Devon."
-
-The fellow shot him a strange glance and shifted the book from one arm
-to the other.
-
-"And have never seen Devon? Never laid foot in Bideford, I'll venture."
-There was a cunning look in his eyes and again he shifted the book.
-
-"'Tis even so."
-
-"A most venomous blow! This wonderfully poseth me." After a time he
-said in a very low voice, "There is only one other way. Either you have
-told me a most wicked lie or Jamie Barwick told you."
-
-The fellow, watching like a cat at a rat-hole, saw Phil start at the
-sound of Jamie Barwick's name.
-
-"I knew it!" he cried. "He'd tell, he'd tell! He's told before--'twas
-he took the tale to Devon. He's a tall fellow but I'll hox him yet. It
-was no fault of mine--though I suppose you'll not believe that."
-
-Upon the mind of Philip Marsham there descended a baffling array of
-memories. The name of the big countryman with the gun carried him back
-to that afternoon in Moll Stevens's alehouse, whence with good cause
-he had fled for his life. And now this stray wight, with a great folio
-volume under his arm, out of a conglomeration of meaningless words had
-suddenly thrown at the lad's head the name of Jamie Barwick.
-
-"We must have this out between us," the fellow said at last, breathing
-hard. "I'll not bear the shadow longer. Come, let us sit while we
-talk, for thereby we may rest from our travels. You see, 'twas thus
-and so. Jamie Barwick and I came out of Devon and took service with
-Sir John--Jamie in the stables, for he has a way with horses, and I as
-under-steward till my wits should be appreciated, which I made sure,
-I'd have you know, would be soon, for there are few scholars that can
-match my curious knowledge of the moon's phases and when to plant corn
-or of the influence of the planets on all manner of husbandry; and
-further, I have kept the covenant of the living God, which should make
-all the devils in hell to tremble; and if England keeps it she shall
-be saved from burning. So when I made shift to get the ear of Sir
-John, who hath a sharp nose in all affairs of his estate, said I,--and
-it took a stout heart, I would have you know, for he is a man of hot
-temper,--said I, if he would engage a hundred pounds at my direction I
-would return him in a year's time a gain of a fourth again as much as
-all he would engage.
-
-"'Aha!'" quoth he, "'this is speech after mine own heart. A hundred
-pounds, sayest thou? 'Tis thine to draw upon, and the man who can turn
-his talents thus shall be steward of all mine estates. But mind,'--and
-here he put his finger to his nose, for he hath keen scent for a
-jest,--'thou shalt go elsewhere to try the meat on the dog, for I'll be
-no laughingstock; and if thou fail'st then shalt thou go packing, bag
-and baggage, with the dogs at thy heels. Is 't a bargain?'
-
-"Now there was that in his way of speech which liked me little, for I
-am used to dealing with quieter men and always I have given my wits to
-booklearning and to Holy Writ rather than to bickering. But I could
-not then say him nay, for he held his staff thus and so and laughed in
-his throat in a way that I have a misliking of. So I said him yea, and
-took in my own name fifty acres of marsh land, and paid down more than
-thirty pound sterling, and expended all of eight pound sterling for the
-ploughing and twice that for the burning, and sowed it with rape-seed
-at ninepence the acre, and paid twelve pound for the second ploughing
-and eleven pound for the fencing--all this did I draw from Sir John,
-who, to pay the Devil his due, gave it me with a free hand; and if
-God had been pleased to send the ordinary blessing upon mine acres I
-should have got from it at harvest three hundred or four hundred or
-even five hundred quarters of good rape-seed. And what with reaping and
-threshing and all, at four and twenty shillings the quarter I should
-have repaid him his hundred pounds, threefold or fourfold. All this by
-the blessing of God should I have done but for some little bugs that
-came upon mine acres in armies, and the fowls of the air that came in
-clouds and ate up my rape-seed and my tender young rape, so that I lost
-all that I laid out. And Sir John would not see that in another year I
-ought, God favouring me, to get him back his silver I had lost, even as
-the book says. He is a man of his word and, crying that the jest was
-worth the money, he sent me out the gate with the dogs at my heels and
-with Jamie Barwick laughing till his fat belly shook, to see me go; for
-I was always in terror of the dogs, which are great tall beasts that
-delight to bark and snap at me. And the last word to greet my ears, ere
-I thought they would have torn me limb from limb, was Sir John bawling
-at me, 'Thou puddling quacksalver!' which Jamie Barwick hath told in
-Bideford, making thereby such mirth that I can no longer abide there
-but must needs flit about the country. And lo! even thou, who by speech
-and coat are not of this country at all, dost challenge me by the very
-words he used."
-
-Phil lay meditating on the queer fate that had placed those words in
-his mouth. "Who," he said at last, "is this Sir John?"
-
-"'Who is Sir John?'" The fellow turned and looked at him. "You have
-come from farther than I thought, not to know Sir John Bristol."
-
-"Sir John Bristol? I cannot say I have heard that name."
-
-"Hast never heard of Sir John Bristol? In faith, thou art indeed a
-stranger hereabouts. He is a harsh man withal, and doubtless my ill
-harvest was the judgment of God upon me for hiring myself to serve
-a cruel, blasphemous knight who upholdeth episcopacy and the Common
-Prayer book."
-
-"And whom," asked the lad, "do you serve now?"
-
-"Ah! I, who would make a skillful, faithful, careful steward, am
-teaching a school of small children, and erecting horoscopes for
-country bumpkins, so low has that harsh knight's ill-considered jest
-cast me. ''Twas worth the money,' quoth he; but it had paid him in
-golden guineas had he had the wit and patience to wait another year."
-The fellow closed his eyes, tossed back his long hair, and pressed his
-hands on his forehead. "Never, never," he cried, "was a man assaulted
-with such diversity of thoughts!"
-
-Philip Marsham contemplated him as if from a distance and thought that
-never was there a long-haired scarecrow better suited for the butt of a
-thousand jests.
-
-There were people passing on the road, an old man in a cart, a woman,
-and two men carrying a jug between them, but Phil was scarcely aware
-of them, or even of the lank man beside him, so absorbing were his
-thoughts, until the man rose, clasping his book in both hands and
-running his tongue over his lips.
-
-His mouth worked nervously. "I must be off, I must be off. There they
-are again, and the last time I thought I should perish ere I got free
-of them. O well-beloved, O well-beloved! they have spied me already. If
-I go by the road, they'll have me; I must go by wood and field."
-
-Turning abruptly, he plunged through a copse and over a hill, whence,
-his very gait showing his fear, he speedily disappeared.
-
-And the two men, having set their jug down beside the road, were
-laughing till they reeled against each other, to see him go.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-TWO SAILORS ON FOOT
-
-
-As the two men roared with laughter by the wayside so that the noise
-of it made people a quarter-mile away turn round to see what was the
-matter, those who passed eyed them askance and gave them the width of
-the road. But to the few passers the two paid no heed at all. Pointing
-whither the lank fellow with the book had gone, they roared till they
-choked; then they fell on each other's necks, and embracing, whispered
-together.
-
-Separating somewhat unsteadily, they now looked hard at Philip Marsham
-who knew their kind and feared them not at all. Shifting his dirk
-within easy reach of his hand, and so drawing his knees together that
-he could spring instantly to one side or the other, he coolly waited
-for them to come nearer, which they did.
-
-The foremost was a fat, impudent scoundrel with very red cheeks and a
-very crafty squint. The other was thin and dark, less forward, but if
-one were to judge by his eyes, by far the braver. Both had put on long
-faces, which consorted ill with their recent laughter, and both, it was
-plain, were considerably the worse for strong drink.
-
-The first glanced back over his shoulder at the second, who gave him a
-nudge and pushed him forward.
-
-"Ahem," he began huskily. "You see before you, my kind young gentleman,
-two shipwrecked mariners who have lost at sea all they possess and are
-now forced to beg their way from London into Devon Port where, God
-willing, they will find a berth waiting for them. They--ahem--ahem--"
-He scratched his head and shut his eyes, then turning, hoarsely
-whispered, "Yea, yea! So far is well enough, but what came next?"
-
-The other scowled blackly. "Bear on," he whispered. "Hast forgot the
-tale of calamities and wrecks and sharks?"
-
-"Yea, yea! Troubles, my kind young gentleman, have somewhat bepuzzled
-my weary wits. As I was about to say, we have journeyed into those
-far seas where the hot sun besetteth a poor sailor with calentures,
-and nasty rains come with thunder and flash, and the wind stormeth
-outrageously and the poor sailor, if he is spared falling from the
-shrouds into the merciless waves,--for he must abide the brunt of
-those infectious rains upon the decks to hand in the sails,--goeth wet
-to his hammock and taketh aches and burning fevers and scurvy. Yea,
-we have seen the ravenous shark or dog-fish (which keepeth a little
-pilot-fish scudding to and fro to bring it intelligence of its prey)
-devour a shipmate with its double row of venomous teeth. Surely, then,
-young gentleman, kind young gentleman, you for whom we have brought
-home curious dainties from that strange and fearful sea, will give us a
-golden guinea to speed us on our way; or if a guinea be not at hand, a
-crown; or sparing a crown, a shilling; or if not a shilling, sixpence.
-Nought will come amiss--nay, even a groat will, by the so much, help
-two poor sailors on their way."
-
-As the two looked down at Philip Marsham, a score of old tales he had
-heard of worthless sailors who left the sea and went a-begging through
-the kingdom came to his mind. It was a manner of life he had never
-thought of for himself, nor had he a mind to it now. But he knew their
-game and, which was more, he knew that he held a higher trump than
-they. He leaned back and looked up at them and very calmly smiled.
-
-"How now!" the spokesman blustered. "Dost laugh at a tale so sad as
-mine? I ha' killed an Italian fencing-master in my time. I ha' fought
-prizes at half the fairs in England."
-
-His companion laid a hand on his arm and whispered in his ear.
-
-"Nay," he retorted angrily, "'tis nought but a country fellow. I'll
-soon overbear him."
-
-Again Phil smiled. "Hast thou never," he said in a quiet voice, "heard
-the man at the mainmast cry, 'A liar, a liar!' and for a week kept
-clean the beakhead and chains? Nay, I'll be bound thou hast sat in
-bilbowes or been hauled under the keel. The marshal doubtless knew thee
-well."
-
-The faces of the two men changed. The fat man who had been the
-spokesman opened his mouth and was at loss for words, but the thin,
-dark man began to laugh and kept on laughing till he could hardly stand.
-
-"We ha' reached for a pheasant and seized a hawk," he cried. "Whence
-came you, my gay young gallant, and what are you doing here?"
-
-"Why, I am here to set myself up for a farmer. I had a reason for
-leaving London--"
-
-Again the thin man burst out laughing. "Why, then," quoth he, "we are
-three men of like minds. So had Martin and I a reason for leaving
-London, too. And you are one who hath smelt salt water in your time.
-Nay, deny it not. Martin's sails are still a-flutter for wind, so
-sorely did you take him aback. 'Twas a shrewd thrust and it scored.
-Why, now, as for farming,"--he spread his hands and lifted his
-brows,--"come with us. There's a certain vessel to sail from Bideford
-on a certain day, and for any such tall lad as thou I'll warrant
-there'll be a berth."
-
-Leaning back against a little hill, the lad looked from the red,
-impudent face of the fat man to the amused, lean, daring face of his
-companion and away at the hills and meadows, the green trees and
-ploughed fields, and the long brown road that would lead the man who
-followed its windings and turnings, however far afield they might
-wander, all the way across England from the Channel to the Severn. He
-had made port, once upon a time, in Bristol and he remembered lifting
-Lundy's Island through the fog. A fair countryside lay before him, with
-the faint scent of flowered meadows and the fragrance of blossoming
-fruit-trees on the wind, but the sea was his home and the half-witted
-creature with the book and the ranting talk of ploughing and planting
-had made the lad feel the more his ignorance of country matters, a
-suspicion of which had been growing on him since first he left the town
-and port behind him. These were not men he would have chosen, but he
-had known as bad and he was lost in a wilderness of roads and lanes
-and never-ending hills and meadows and woods, with villages one after
-another. Any port in a storm--any pilot who knew his bearings! And
-for the matter of that, he had seen rough company before. Though his
-grandparents were gentlefolk, his father had led a rough life and the
-son had learned from childhood to bear with low humour and harsh talk.
-
-The lean man still smiled, and though Martin was angry still, neither
-the lad nor the man heeded him.
-
-"I could bear you company, but--" A doubt crept on him: when sober they
-might be of quite another mind.
-
-"Nay, say us no buts."
-
-"I have neither money nor gear for a journey."
-
-"Nor we--come!--Nay, I am not so deep in my cups that I do not know my
-own mind." The man chuckled, perceiving that his intuition had fathomed
-the lad's hesitation.
-
-Rising, Phil looked at the two again. He was as tall as they, if not
-so broad. After all, it was only Martin whose head was humming with
-liquor; the lean man, it now appeared, was as sober as he pleased to be.
-
-"And if I have no money?"
-
-"We are the better matched."
-
-They returned to the highway, where Martin and the thin man took up
-the jug between them, each holding by his forefinger one of its two
-handles, and together all three set out. But the jug was heavy and they
-progressed slowly.
-
-"In faith, the day's warm and the road is dusty and I must drink
-again," said Martin at last.
-
-They stopped and set the jug down in the road.
-
-"You must pay," said the thin man.
-
-Taking from his pocket a penny, Martin handed it to his companion and
-filling a great cup, drained it to the bottom. He then shook the jug,
-which showed by the sound that there was little left.
-
-They walked on a while; then the thin man stopped. "I'll take a bit of
-something myself," he said. He took the penny out of his pocket, handed
-it to Martin, filled the cup and drained it.
-
-Both then looked at Phil. "It is tuppence a quantum," said the thin
-man. "Have you tuppence?"
-
-Phil shook his head, and the three went on together.
-
-Three times more they stopped. The penny changed hands and one or the
-other drank. Martin's speech grew thicker and his companion's face
-flushed.
-
-"Neither one of us nor the other," said the thin man, with a flourish
-of his hand, "is often seen in drink. There is a reason for it this
-time, though. 'If any chuff,' say I, 'can buy good wine for a half
-crown the jug and sell it at profit for tuppence the can, why cannot
-we?' So we ha' laid down our half crown and set out upon the road to
-peddle our goods, when Martin must needs drink for his thirst, which,
-as the Scripture hath it, endureth forever. 'But,' quoth I, 'for every
-pot a penny to him and a penny to me.' 'Why,' quoth he,"--lowering his
-voice, the thin man whispered to Phil, "He is a rare fool at times,"
-then resumed in his ordinary voice,--"'Why,' quoth he, 'here's thy
-penny for thee.' So, presently, I to him: his penny for the wine that I
-drink. Before we have gone far it comes upon me as a wondrous thrifty
-thought, that the more we drink the more we earn."--Again he whispered
-to Phil, drawing him aside, "When I had drunk a few cans, which much
-enlivened my wits, I saw he was not so great a fool as I had thought;"
-and resumed his ordinary voice--"'Tis little wonder that all the world
-desires to keep an alehouse or a tavern!"
-
-Never was there plainer example of befuddled wits! Passing back and
-forth, from one to the other, the single penny, the two had consumed
-their stock in trade, believing that they were earning great profit on
-their investment. Perceiving that the jug was nearly empty, Phil waited
-with quiet interest for the outcome.
-
-They stopped again in the road. Martin handed the penny to the thin
-man and poured from the jug into the cup. There was a gurgle or two and
-the jug was empty. The cup was but half full.
-
-"'Tis not full measure," he muttered, "but let it be." He emptied the
-cup and wiped his lips.
-
-"Now," said the thin man, his face by this time fully as red as his
-fellow's, "where's thy store of silver? Count and share, count and
-share."
-
-"Thou hast it, pence and pounds."
-
-Martin's eyes half closed and his head nodded. Breathing hard, he sat
-down beside the road.
-
-"Nay, th'art drunk. Come, now, thy purse and a just division." Out of a
-fog of wild notions the befuddled thin man had pitched upon this alone,
-that Martin withheld from him their common profit from their adventure
-into trade. He had keen mind and strong will, and his head had long
-resisted the assaults of the wine; but wine is a cunning, powerful foe
-and not easily discouraged, which by sapping and mining can accomplish
-the fall of the tallest citadel; and now, although steadier on his
-feet, the fellow was nearly as drunk as his mate and in no condition to
-perceive the flaw in his own logic.
-
-To all this Martin gave no heed at all. He covered his eyes with his
-hands and uttering a prolonged groan, cried thickly,--apparently to
-Phil,--"And did you ever see a man dance on air! Ah, a hanging is a
-sight to catch the breath in your throat and make an emptiness in a
-man's belly!"
-
-"Tush!" the thin man cried. Leaning over Martin he thrust his hands
-into pocket, pouch and bosom. "Where hast thou hid it?" he fiercely
-whispered.
-
-Martin tried to stand and fell weakly back, but slapped the thin man
-across the face as he did so.
-
-In an instant the thin man had out a knife and was pressing the point
-firmly against Martin's ribs.
-
-Over Martin's florid face there came a ghastly pallor. "Let me go!"
-he yelled. "Take away thy knife, thou black-hearted, thrice accurst
-old goat! I've nought of thine. O Tom, to use me thus basely!" And
-sprawling on his back, he wriggled under the knife like a great,
-helpless hog.
-
-The thin man smiled. To Phil Marsham his face seemed to have grown
-like pictures of the Devil in old books. He held the knife against
-the shrieking fat man's breast and pressed it the harder when Martin
-clutched at his wrist, then with a fierce "Pfaw!" of disgust released
-his victim and stood erect. "Pig!" he whispered. "See!" The point of
-the knife was red with blood. "Th'art not worth killing. Thy thin blood
-would quench the fire of a fleshed blade."
-
-With that, he deliberately spat in the man's face, and turning, went
-off alone.
-
-They were two sober men that watched him go, for the fumes of liquor
-had fled from the fat man's brain as he lay with the knife at his
-heart, and of their wine Phil Marsham had taken not a drop. Striding
-away, the thin man never looked behind him; and still showing them only
-his back, he passed out of sight.
-
-Martin remained as pale as before he had been red. He rubbed his sore
-breast where the knife had pricked him, and gulped three or four times.
-"Ah-h-h!" he breathed. "God be praised, he's gone!" He made the sign of
-the cross, then cast a sharp glance at Phil to see if he had noticed.
-"God be praised, he's gone! He hath a cruel humour. He will kill for a
-word, when the mood is on him. I thought I was a dead man. Ah-h-h!"
-
-The colour returned to his round face and the sly, crafty look returned
-to his eyes. "We'll find him at Bideford, though, and all will go well
-again. He'll kill for a word--nay, for a thought! But he never bears a
-grudge--against a friend. We'll lie tonight, my lad, with a roof over
-our heads, and by dawn we'll take the road."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-THE GIRL AT THE INN
-
-
-As they came at nightfall to the inn whither Martin had been determined
-they should find their way, a coach drawn by two horses clattered down
-the village street and drew up at the inn gate before them. There was
-calling and shouting. Hostlers came running from the stables and stood
-by the horses' heads. The landlord himself stood by the coach door to
-welcome his guests and servants unloaded their boxes. The coachman in
-livery sat high above the tumult, his arms folded in lofty pride, and
-out of the coach into the light from the inn door there stepped an
-old gentleman who gallantly handed down his lady. The hostlers leaped
-away from the bridles, the coachman resumed the reins, and when the
-procession of guests, host, and servants had moved into the great room
-where a fire blazed on the hearth, the horses, tossing their heads,
-proceeded to the stable.
-
-All this the two foot-weary travellers saw, as unobserved in the bustle
-and stir, they made their way quietly toward the rear of the building.
-When they passed a dimly lighted window Martin glanced slyly around and
-with quick steps ran over to it and peeped in. Whatever he sought, he
-failed to find it, and he returned with a scowl. The two had chosen the
-opposite side of the house from the stable and no one perceived their
-cautious progress. Martin repeated his act at a second window and at a
-third, but he got small satisfaction, as his steadily darkening frown
-indicated.
-
-They came at last to a brighter window than any of the others, and this
-he approached with greater caution. He crouched under it and raised
-his great head slowly from the very corner until one eye saw into the
-room, which was filled with light and gave forth the clatter and hum of
-a great domestic bustling. Here he remained a long time, now ducking
-his head and now bobbing it up again, and when he came away a smile had
-replaced his frown. "She's here," he whispered. "From now on we've a
-plain course to sail, without rock or sandbar."
-
-They retraced their steps and went boldly round the inn to the kitchen
-door. There were lights in the stable and men talking loudly of one
-thing and another. From the kitchen door, which stood ajar, came
-the rattle of dishes and the smell of food and a great bawling and
-clamouring as the mistress directed and the maids ran.
-
-With a jaunty air and an ingratiating smile, Martin boldly stepped to
-the door. He knocked and waited but no one heeded his summons. A scowl
-replaced his smile and he knocked with redoubled vigour. The sound rang
-out clearly in the inn yard. Several men came to the door of the stable
-to see what was the matter and the clamour in the kitchen ceased. Steps
-approached, a firm hand threw wide the door, and a woman cried with
-harsh voice, "Well, then, what'll you have, who come to the back when
-honest folk go to the front?"
-
-There was for a moment a disagreeable cast in Martin's eyes, but his
-facile mouth resumed its easy smile. "An it please you, mistress, there
-are two gentlemen here would have a word with Nell Entick."
-
-"Gentlemen!" she cried with a great guffaw. "Gentry of the road, I make
-no doubt, who would steal away all the girl has--it's little enough,
-God knows."
-
-A couple of men came sauntering out of the stable and the kitchen maids
-stood a-titter.
-
-Martin sputtered and stammered and grew redder than before, which she
-perceiving, bawled in a great voice that rang through the kitchen and
-far into the house, "Nell Entick, Nell Entick! Devil take the wench,
-is she deaf as an adder? Nell Entick, here's a 'gentleman' come to the
-kitchen door to see thee, his face as red as a reeky coal to kindle a
-pipe of tobacco with."
-
-A shrill chorus of women's laughter came from the kitchen, echoed by
-a chorus of bass from the stable, and Phil Marsham stepped back in
-the dark, unwilling to be companioned with the man who had drawn such
-ridicule upon himself. But as Martin thrust himself forward with a show
-of bluster and bravado, the click of light footsteps came down the
-passage, and through the kitchen walked a girl whose flush of anger
-wondrously became her handsome face.
-
-"Where is the wretch," she cried, and stepping on the doorstone, stood
-face to face with Martin.
-
-"So, 'tis thou," she sneered. "I thought as much. Well--" she suddenly
-stopped, perceiving Phil, who stood nearly out of sight in the shadow.
-"Who is that?" she asked.
-
-The mistress had returned to the kitchen, the girls to their work, the
-men to the stable.
-
-"Th'art the same wench," Martin cried in anger, seizing at her hand.
-"Hard words for old acquaintance, and a warm glance for a strange face."
-
-She snatched her hand away and cuffed him on the ear with a force that
-sent him staggering.
-
-Though he liked it little, he swallowed his wrath.
-
-"Come, chuck," he coaxed her, "let bygones lie. Tell me, will he turn
-his hand to help his brother?"
-
-She laughed curtly. "The last time he spoke your name, he said he would
-put his hand in his pocket to pay the sexton that dug your grave and
-would find pleasure in so doing; but that he'd then let you lie with
-never a stone to mark the place, and if the world forgot you as soon as
-he, the better for him."
-
-"But sure he could not mean it?"
-
-"He did."
-
-Martin swore vilely under his breath.
-
-From the kitchen came the landlady's voice. "Nell Entick, Nell, I say!
-Gad-about! Good-for-nought!"
-
-"Go to the stable," she whispered, "and tell them I sent you to wait
-there. She'll be in better humour in an hour's time. It may be I can
-even bring you in here."
-
-She shot another glance over Martin's shoulder at the slim form of Phil
-Marsham and went away smiling.
-
-Few in the stable looked twice at the two strangers in worn coats and
-dusty shoes who entered and sat on a bench by the wall, for there is
-as much pride of place in a stable as in a palace. There was talk
-of racing and hunting and fairs, and the beasts champed their oats,
-and everywhere was the smell of horses and harness. Presently there
-came from the inn a coachman in livery and him they greeted with nods
-and good-morrows, for he was sleek and well fed and, after a manner,
-haughty, which commanded their respect. He sat down among them affably,
-as one conscious of his place in the world but desiring--provided they
-recognized him as a man of position--to be magnanimous to all; and
-after inquiring into the welfare of his horses he spoke of the weather
-and the roads.
-
-"Hast come far?" a wrinkled old man asked.
-
-"Aye, from Larwood."
-
-"The horses stood the day's travel well?"
-
-"Aye, they are good beasts. But much depends on proper handling. It
-makes a deal of difference who holds the reins." He looked about with
-an air of generous patronage. "That, and their meat." He nodded toward
-one of the men. "'Tis well, though, when at night they are well fed, to
-fill the rack with barley-straw or wheat ere leaving them, as I showed
-thee, that perceiving it is not pleasant they may lie down and take
-their rest, which is in itself as good as meat for the next day's work."
-
-A general murmur of assent greeted this observation.
-
-"Goest far?" another asked.
-
-"Aye, to Lincoln."
-
-A rumble of surprise ran about the stable and the deference of the
-stablemen visibly increased.
-
-"Hast been long away?"
-
-"Aye, six weeks to the day."
-
-"It do take a deal of silver to travel thus."
-
-"Aye, aye." He condescended to smile. "But there are few of the clergy
-in England can better afford a journey to the Isle o' Wight than the
-good Dr. Marsham, and he is one who grudges nought when his lady hath
-been ill. 'Tis wonderful what travel will do for the ailing. Aye, he
-hath visited in many great houses and I have seen good company while we
-have been on the road."
-
-Phil had looked up. "Where is this Doctor Marsham's home?" he asked.
-
-All frowned at the rash young man's temerity in thus familiarly
-accosting the powerful personage in livery, and none more accusingly
-than the personage himself; but with a scornful lift of his brows
-he replied in a manner to tell all who were present that such as he
-were above mere arrogance. "Why, young man, he comes from a place you
-doubtless never heard of, keeping as you doubtless do, so close at
-home: from Little Grimsby."
-
-Martin glanced at Phil. "The name, it seems, is thine own. Hast ever
-been at Little Grimsby?"
-
-"Never."
-
-And with that they forgot Philip Marsham, or at all events treated him
-as if he had never existed.
-
-"'Tis few o' the clergy ride in their own coaches," someone said, with
-an obsequiousness that went far to conciliate the magnificent coachman.
-
-"Aye, very few," he said smiling, "but Dr. Marsham is well connected
-and a distant relation some years since left him a very comfortable
-fortune--not to mention that in all England there are few better
-livings than his. There is no better blood in the country than runs in
-his veins. You'd be surprised if I was to tell you of families he's
-connected with."
-
-So the talk ran.
-
-Presently a little boy appeared from the darkness beyond the door and
-hunting out Martin, touched his shoulder and beckoned. Martin, having
-long nursed his ill temper, rose. "It is time," he said, "yea, more
-than time." With swagger and toss he elbowed his way out past the
-liveried coachman; but missing Phil he turned and saw him still sitting
-on the bench, his eyes fixed on the harness hanging on the opposite
-wall.
-
-"Come, come," he called loudly. "Come, make haste! Where are thy wits?
-Phil, I say!"
-
-Starting suddenly awake from his revery, Phil got up and followed
-Martin out of the stable, seeing no one, and so blindly pressed at his
-heels, so little heeded what went on about him, that the sudden burst
-of laughter his absence of mind had occasioned passed unheard over his
-head.
-
-In the kitchen, whither the boy led them, they found places laid at one
-end of a great table and Nell Entick waiting to serve them, who gave
-Martin cold glances but looked long and curiously at Phil Marsham. The
-mistress and the other girls were gone. The boy sat in the corner, by
-the great fireplace where the roast had been turning on the now empty
-spit. Nell set before them a pitcher of beer and all that was left of a
-venison pasty.
-
-Martin ate greedily and whispered to her and talked in a mumbling
-undertone, but she gave him short answers till his temper flew beyond
-his grasp and he knocked over his beer in reaching for her. "Witch!" he
-snarled. "Yea, look him in the eye! His wits are a-wandering again."
-
-Looking up, Phil met her eyes staring boldly into his. He leaned back
-and smiled, for she was a comely lass.
-
-"Have the two guests who came tonight in a coach gone yet to bed?" he
-asked.
-
-"How should I know that?"
-
-His question baffled her and she looked at him from under her long
-lashes, half, perhaps, in search of some hidden meaning in his words,
-but certainly a full half because she knew that her eyes were her best
-weapons and that the stroke was a telling one. She made little of his
-meaning but her thrust scored.
-
-He looked at her again and marked the poise of her shapely head,
-the curves of neck and shoulders, the full bosom, the bare arms. But
-his mind was still set on that other matter and he persisted in his
-design. "I want," he said slowly, "to see them--to see them without
-their knowing or any one's knowing--except you and me." Here he met her
-at her own game, and he was not so far carried away but that he could
-inwardly smile to see his own shot tell.
-
-"They have supped in the little parlor and are sitting there by the
-fire," she whispered. "It may cost me my place--but--"
-
-Again she looked at him under her long lashes. He gave her as good as
-she sent, and she whispered, "Come, then--come."
-
-Martin gave an angry snort over his beer, but she returned a hot glance
-and an impatient gesture. With Phil pressing close at her heels she
-led the way out of the kitchen and down a long passage. Stopping with
-her finger on her lips, she very quietly opened a door and motioned
-him forward. Again her finger at her lips! With her eyes she implored
-silence.
-
-Without so much as the creaking of a board he stepped through the door.
-A second door, which stood ajar, led into the little parlor and through
-the crack he saw an old man with long white hair and beard--an old man
-with a kindly face mellowed by years of study, perhaps by years of
-disappointment and anxiety. The old man's eyes were shut, for he was
-dozing. In a chair on the other side of the hearth a lady sat, but only
-the rich border of her gown showed through the partly open door.
-
-The lad stood there with a lump in his throat and a curious mingling
-of emotions in his heart and head. It had happened so suddenly,
-so strangely, he felt that baffling sense of unreality which comes
-sometimes to all of us. He touched the wall to make sure he was not
-dreaming. Had he but stayed in school, as his father had desired, and
-gone back to Little Grimsby, who knew what might have come of it? But
-no! He was a penniless vagabond, a waif astray on the highroads of
-England. He was now of a mind to speak out; now of a mind to slip like
-a fox to earth. His gay, gallant ne'er-do-weel of a father was gone. He
-was alone in the world save for his chance acquaintance of the road,
-which was perhaps worse than being entirely alone. What madness--he
-wondered as he looked at the kindly face of the drowsy old man--had led
-Tom Marsham away from his home? Or was it more than a mere mad prank?
-Had the manners of a country vicarage so stifled him that he became
-desperate? As Phil thought of Martin drinking in the kitchen, a wave
-of revulsion swept over him; but after all, his father had kept such
-company in his own life, and though he had brought up the boy to better
-things, the father's reckless and adventurous nature, in spite of his
-best intentions, had drawn the son into wild ways. Something rose in
-Phil's throat and choked him, but the hot pride that came straightly
-and honestly from his father now flamed high. He knew well enough that
-Tom Marsham had had his faults, and of a kind to close upon him the
-doors of such a home as the vicarage at Little Grimsby; but he had been
-a lovable man none the less and Tom Marsham's son was loyal.
-
-The girl, daring not speak, was tugging at Phil's coat in an agony of
-misgivings. He stepped softly back, closed the door on a world he might
-have entered, and carried away with him the secret that would have
-brought peace--if a sad, almost bitter peace--to two lonely souls.
-
-He paused in the passage and the girl stopped beside him. There was
-no one in sight or hearing, and he kissed her. Such is the curious
-complexity with which impressions and emotions crowd upon one, that
-even while the vicarage at Little Grimsby and his dead father were
-uppermost in his thoughts, he was of a mind then and for many a long
-day thereafter to come back and marry her. Since he had closed the door
-through which he might have passed, this was a golden dream to cling to
-in hard times and glad, he thought. For he had caught her fancy as well
-as she his and she kissed him full on the lips; and being in all ways
-his father's son, he fell victim to a kitchen wench's bright eyes at
-the very moment when Little Grimsby was within his reach, as has father
-had done before him. Then they walked out into the kitchen, trying to
-appear as if nothing had happened, and Martin, perceiving their red
-cheeks, only sneered.
-
-"You must sleep on the hay," she whispered; and to Martin, "I'll send
-him word before morning and give you his reply."
-
-So they again followed the little boy through the darkness to the
-stable by a back way, and climbed a ladder to the great mow and crawled
-behind a mountain of hay, and lay with their thoughts to bear them
-company while men far below talked of country affairs, horses were
-trampling uneasily in their stalls, and the little boy was off through
-the night with a message.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-SIR JOHN BRISTOL
-
-
-There was not a cloud in the sky at dawn. Cocks crowed lustily, near
-and loud or far and faint. The blue light grew stronger and revealed
-the sleeping village and the rambling old inn and the great stable,
-where the horses stood in their stalls and pulled at the hay and
-pease in the racks or moved uneasily about. The stars became dim and
-disappeared. The rosy east turned to gold and the dark hills turned to
-blue and the village stirred from its sleep.
-
-The master of the inn came down, rubbing his eyes and yawning, to the
-great room where one of the maids, bedraggled with sleep, was brushing
-the hearth and another was clearing a table at which two village
-roysterers had sat late. The master was in an evil temper, but for the
-moment there was no fault to be found with the maids, so he left them
-without a word and went through the long passage to the kitchen.
-
-Seeing there a candle, which had burned to a pool of tallow, still
-guttering faintly in its socket, he cried out at the waste and reached
-to douse the feeble flame, then stopped in anger, for in a chair by the
-table, on which he had rested his head and arms, the little boy sat
-fast asleep.
-
-"Hollo!" the master bawled.
-
-Up started the little boy, awake on the instant and his eyes wide with
-fear.
-
-"What in the fiend's name hast thou been up to, this night?" quoth the
-master in a fierce bellow.
-
-The little boy burst into tears. "He'll have nought to do with him,"
-he wailed. "'Twas a long way and fearful dark but I went it, every
-step, and ferreted him out and gave him the message; and he swore most
-wickedly and bade me tell the man go to a place I don't like to name,
-and bade me tell Nell Entick he took it ill of her to traffic with such
-as that brother of his."
-
-"Ah-ha!" cried the host, belting his breeches tighter. "Most shrewdly
-do I suspect there have been strange doings hereabouts. Where's Nell
-Entick? Nell Entick, I say, Nell Entick!" His voice went through the
-house like thunder. The sashes rattled and the little boy quaked.
-
-Down came the hostess and in came the maids--all but Nell Entick.
-
-"Nell Entick! Where's Nell Entick, I say! Fiend take the wench--where's
-Nell Entick?"
-
-Then in came the sleepy hostlers, and the coachman, his livery all awry
-from his haste--but not Nell Entick. For Nell Entick, a-tremble with
-well-founded apprehensions, having gone late to bed and slept heavily,
-had risen just after the host, had followed him down the passage and,
-after listening at the door until she made sure her worst fears were
-realized, had darted back along the passage and out through the inn
-yard to the stable where as loudly as she dared, but not loudly enough
-to rouse the weary sleepers above, she was calling, "Martin! Martin!
-Awake, I say, or they'll all be upon thee! Martin, awake!"
-
-The host in fury seized the little boy by the ear and dragged him
-shrieking across the table. "Now, sirrah," quoth he, "of whom mak'st
-thou this squalling and squealing? A stick laid to thy bum will
-doubtless go far to keep thy soul from burning."
-
-"Unhand me!" he squalled. "She'll kill me, an I tell."
-
-"An thou tellest not, thou slubbering noddy, I'll slice thee into
-collops of veal." And still holding the unhappy child by the ear, the
-host, making a ferocious face, reached for a long and sharp knife.
-
-"I'll tell--I'll tell--'Tis the two men that slept in the hay."
-
-"Ha! The hounds are in cry."
-
-And with that the host released his victim and dashed, knife in hand,
-out the kitchen door. The household trailed at his heels. The sleeping
-guests woke in their chambers and faces appeared at curtained windows.
-
-Nell Entick fled from the stable as he came roaring, but seeing her
-not, he mounted the ladder and plunged into the hay with wild thrusts
-of his knife in all directions. "Hollo! Hollo!" he yelled. "At 'em,
-dogs, at 'em!" And the two sleepers in the far corner of the mow, as
-the household had done before them, started wide awake.
-
-For the second time since they had met, Martin, crouching in the hay,
-crossed himself, then shot a scared glance at Phil. Martin was white
-round the lips and his hands were shaking like the palsy. "Said he
-aught of hanging?" he whispered. But Philip Marsham was then in no
-mood to heed his chance companion, whose bubble of bluster he had seen
-pricked three times.
-
-What had occurred was plain enough and the two were cornered like rats;
-but Phil got up on his toes, shielded from sight by a mound of hay,
-and squatting low, got in his arms as much of the hay as he could grasp.
-
-Bawling curses and thrusting this way and that with his knife, the host
-came steadily nearer. He passed the mound. He saw the two. Knife in
-hand he plunged at them over the hay, with a yell of triumph. But his
-footing was none of the best, and as he came, Phil rose with a great
-armful of hay to receive the knife-thrust and sprang at him.
-
-Thus thrown off his balance, the man fell and the lad, catching his
-wrist and dexterously twisting it, removed the knife from his hand and
-flung it into the darkest corner of the great mow.
-
-"Help! Treason! Murder! Thieves!"
-
-With his hand on the host's throat, Phil shoved him deeper in the hay
-and held him at his mercy, but Martin was already scrambling over the
-mow, and with a last thrust Phil left the blinded and choking host to
-dig himself out at his leisure and followed, dirk in hand. As the two
-leaped down on the stable floor, the flashing dirk bought them passage
-to the rear, whither they fled apace, and out the door and away.
-
-They passed Nell Entick at the gate, her hands clasped in terror, who
-cried to Martin, "He'll have nought of you. Hard words were all he
-sent."
-
-To Phil she said nothing but her glance held him, and he whispered, "I
-will come back and marry you."
-
-She smiled.
-
-"You will wait for me?" he whispered, and kissed her.
-
-She nodded and he kissed her again ere he fled after Martin.
-
-When they had left the village behind them they stopped to breathe and
-rest.
-
-Leaning against a tree, Martin mopped the sweat from his brow. "Had
-I but a sword," he cried, "I'd ha' given them theme for thought, the
-scurvy knaves!"
-
-"It seems thy brother, of whom we were to have got so much, bears thee
-little love." And Phil smiled.
-
-For this Martin returned him an oath, and sat upon a stone.
-
-On the left lay the village whence they had come, and, though the sun
-was not yet up, the spire of the church and the thatched roofs of the
-cottages were very clearly to be seen in the pure morning air. Smoke
-was rising from chimneys and small sounds of awakening life came out to
-the vagabonds on the lonely road, as from the woods at their back came
-the shrill, loud laugh of the yaffle, and from the marsh before them,
-the croaking of many frogs.
-
-Martin's shifty eyes ranged from the cows standing about the straw rack
-in a distant barton in the east to a great wooded park on a hill in the
-west. "I will not go hungry," he cried with an oath, "because it is his
-humour to deny me. We shall see what we shall see."
-
-He rose and turned west and with Phil at his heels he came presently to
-the great park they had seen from a distance.
-
-"We shall see what we shall see."
-
-With that he left the road and following a copse beside a meadow
-entered the wood, where the two buried themselves deep in the shade
-of the great trees. The sun was up now and the birds were fluttering
-and clamouring high overhead, but to the motion and clamour of small
-birds they gave no heed. From his pocket Martin drew a bit of strong
-thread, then, looking about, he wagged his head and pushed through the
-undergrowth. "Hare or pheasant, I care not which. Here we shall spread
-our net--here--and here." Whereupon he pulled down a twig and knotted
-the thread and formed a noose with his fingers. "Here puss shall run,"
-he continued, "and here, God willing, we shall eat."
-
-Having thus set his snare, he left it, and sulkily, for the sun was
-getting up in the sky and they had come far without breaking their
-fast. So Phil followed him and they lay on a bank, with an open vale
-before them where yellow daffodils were in full bloom, and nursed their
-hunger.
-
-After a while Martin slipped away deftly but returned with a face
-darker than he took, and though he went three times to the snare and
-scarcely stirred a leaf,--which spoke more of experience in such
-lawless sports than some books might have told,--each time his face,
-when he returned, was longer than before.
-
-"A man must eat," he said at last, "and here in his own bailiwick and
-warren will I eat to spite him. Yea, and leave guts and fur to puzzle
-him. But there's another way, quicker and surer, though not so safe."
-
-So they went together over a hill and down a glade to a meadow.
-
-"Do thou," he whispered, "lie here in wait."
-
-With a club in his hand and a few stones in his pocket he circled
-through the thicket, and having in his manner of knowing his business
-and of commanding the hunt, resumed his old bravado, he now made a
-great show of courage and resourcefulness; but Phil, having flung
-himself down at full length by the meadow, smiled to hear him puffing
-through the wood.
-
-Off in the wood wings fluttered and Martin murmured under his breath.
-Presently a stone rapped against a tree-trunk and again there was the
-sound of wings.
-
-Then the lad by the meadow heard a stone rip through the leaves and
-strike with a soft thud, whereupon something fell heavily and thrashed
-about in the undergrowth, and Martin cried out joyously.
-
-He had no more than appeared, holding high a fine cock-pheasant, with
-the cry, "Here's meat that will eat well," when there was a great noise
-of heavy feet in the copse behind him, and whirling about in exceeding
-haste, he flung the pheasant full in the face of the keeper and bolted
-like a startled filly. Thereupon scrambling to his feet, Phil must
-needs burst out laughing at the wild look of terror Martin wore, though
-the keeper was even then upon him and though he himself was of no mind
-to run. He lightly stepped aside as the keeper rushed at him, and
-darting back to where Martin had dropped his cudgel, snatched it up
-and turned, cudgel in hand. He was aware of a flash of colour in the
-wood, and the sound of voices, but he had no leisure to look ere the
-keeper was again at him, when for the first time he saw that the keeper
-was the selfsame red-faced countryman who had brought the gun to Moll
-Stevens's alehouse by the Thames--that it was Jamie Barwick.
-
-Now the keeper Barwick was at the same moment aware of something
-familiar about his antagonist, but not until he was at him a second
-time in full tilt did he recollect where and when he had last seen him.
-He then stopped short, so great was his amazement, but resumed his
-attack with redoubled fury. His stick crashed against the cudgel and
-broke, and ducking a smart rap, he dived at Phil's knees.
-
-To this, Phil made effective reply by dropping the cudgel and dodging
-past the keeper to catch him round the waist from behind (for his arms,
-exceeding long though they were, were just long enough to encompass
-comfortably the man's great belly), and the lad's iron clutch about the
-fellow's middle sorely distressed him. As they swayed back and forth
-the keeper suddenly seized Phil's head over his own shoulder and rose
-and bent forward, lifting Phil from the ground bodily; then he flung
-himself upon his back and might have killed the lad by the fall, had
-Phil not barely wriggled from under him.
-
-Both were on their feet in haste, but though the keeper was breathing
-the harder, Philip Marsham, having come far without food, was the
-weaker, and as Barwick charged again, Phil laid hands on his dirk, but
-thought better of it. Then Barwick struck from the shoulder and Phil,
-seizing his wrist, lightly turned and crouched and drew the man just
-beyond his balance so that his own great weight pitched him over the
-lad's head. It is a deft throw and gives a heavy fall, but Phil had not
-the strength to rise at the moment of pitching his antagonist,--which
-will send a man flying twice his length,--so Barwick, instead of taking
-such a tumble as breaks bones, landed on his face and scraped his nose
-on the ground.
-
-He rose with blood and mud smearing his face and with his drawn knife
-in his hand; and Philip Marsham, his eyes showing like black coals set
-in his stark white face, yielded not a step, but snatched out his dirk
-to give as good as he got.
-
-Then, as they shifted ground and fenced for an opening, a booming
-"Holla! Holla!" came down to them.
-
-They stopped and looked toward the source of the summons, but Phil, a
-shade the slower to return to his antagonist, saw out of the corner of
-his eye that Barwick was coming at him. He leaped back and with his arm
-knocked aside Barwick's blow.
-
-"Holla, I say! Ha' done, ha' done! That, Barwick, was a foul trick.
-Another like that, and I'll turn you out."
-
-A crestfallen man was Barwick then, who made out to stammer, "Yea, Sir
-John--yea, Sir John, but a poacher--'e's a poacher, Sir John, and a
-poacher--"
-
-"A foul trick is a foul trick."
-
-The speaker wore a scarlet cloak overlaid with silver lace, and his
-iron-grey hair crept in curls from under a broad hat. His face, when he
-looked at Barwick, was such that Barwick stepped quietly back and held
-his tongue. The man had Martin by the collar (his sleek impudence had
-melted into a vast melancholy), and there stood behind them a little
-way up the bank, Phil now saw, a lady no older than Phil himself, who
-watched the group with calm, dark eyes and stood above them all like a
-queen.
-
-"Throw down those knives," the knight ordered, for it took no divining
-to perceive that here was Sir John Bristol in the flesh. "Thrust them,
-points into the ground. Good! Now have on, and God speed the better
-man."
-
-To Philip Marsham, who could have expected prison at the very least,
-this fair chance to fight his own battle came as a reprieve; and though
-he very well knew that he must win the fight at once or go down from
-sheer weakness and want of food, his eyes danced.
-
-The knight's frown darkened, observing that Barwick appeared to have
-got his fill, and he smote the ground with his staff. Then Barwick
-turned and Philip Marsham went in upon him like a ray of light. Three
-times he threw the big man, by sheer skill and knowledge, for the other
-by his own weight hindered himself, but after the third time the world
-went white and the lad fell.
-
-He sat up shortly and looked into Sir John's face.
-
-"'Tis the lack of food," he stammered, "or I'd out-last him as well as
-out-wrestle him."
-
-Sir John was laughing mightily. "You gave him full measure, and thank
-God you are fresh from a fast or I'd ha' lost a keeper. As for food, we
-shall remedy that lack. Two things I have to say: one to you, Barwick.
-You attempted a foul trick. I'll have none such in my service. If it
-happens again, you go. And as for you, you white-livered cur, that
-would leave a boy to a beating and never turn a hand to save him, I'll
-even take you in hand myself."
-
-And with that, Sir John flung back his cloak and raising his staff with
-one hand while with the other he kept hold of Martin's coat-collar,
-he thrashed the man till he bellowed and blubbered--till his coat was
-split and his shirt was bloody and his head was broken and his legs
-were all welts and bruises.
-
-"Help! Help! O Holy Mary! Saints in Heaven! Help! O Jamie, Jamie,
-Jamie! O sir! Kind sir! let me go! Let me go!"
-
-Sir John flung him away with a last whistling stroke of the great
-staff. "That," said he, "for cowardice."
-
-And Jamie Barwick, having already forgotten his own rebuke, was broadly
-smiling.
-
-Sir John turned then and looked Philip Marsham in the eye. "It was a
-good fight," he said, and smiled. "Courage and honour will carry a man
-far."
-
-He then looked away across his wide acres to the distant village. For a
-while he was lost in revery and the others waited for him, but he came
-to himself with a start and turned brusquely, though not unkindly, to
-Philip Marsham.
-
-"Come now, begone, you vagabond cockerel! If a farm is robbed from
-here to the Channel, or a hundred miles the other way, I'll rear the
-county upon your track and scour the countryside from the Severn to
-the Thames. I'll publish the tale of you the country over and see you
-hanged when they net you."
-
-He stood there looking very fierce as he spoke, but there was a laugh
-in his eyes, and when Phil turned to go, he flung the lad a silver coin.
-
-Phil saw the gesture and picked the money from the air, for he was
-quick with his fingers, but before he caught it Sir John seemed to have
-forgotten him; for he bent his head and walked away with his eyes on
-the ground. There was something in the knight's manner that stung the
-lad, who looked at the coin in his hand and almost as quick as thought
-hurled it back at Sir John.
-
-"How now?" cried Sir John, turning about.
-
-"I'll take no money that is thrown me," Phil replied.
-
-"So!" Sir John stood looking at him. "I have a liking for thee," he
-said, and smiled. But he then, it seemed, again forgot that there was
-such a lad, for he once more bent his head and walked away with the
-lady who had stood above them in the wood.
-
-As for Phil, he did not so lightly forget Sir John. He watched him
-until he had fixed in his mind every line of his tall, broad figure,
-every gesture of his hand and every toss of his head. He then walked
-off, and when he turned to look back a last time Sir John was gone.
-
-"What was that he said of hanging?" Martin whispered.
-
-The fellow's face was so white and his lips and his bruises were so
-blue that Phil laughed at him before his eyes, who thereupon lost his
-temper and snarled, "It's all well enough to take things lightly, you
-who got no beating; but hanging is no laughing matter."
-
-He then looked cautiously around and ran back the way they had come.
-When he returned he held between thumb and forefinger the silver coin
-Phil had thrown back at the burly knight. Martin bought food with it
-and Phil, though he thought it would have choked him, helped him eat
-it; and so they survived the day.
-
-"That keeper, Barwick," Martin said that evening as the two tramped
-west along the highway, "is my brother, and an ungrateful wretch he is."
-
-"I knew he was your brother," Phil said. But he was not thinking of
-Martin or his brother. He was thinking of the old knight in the scarlet
-cloak so bravely decked with silver lace. There was only one man Philip
-Marsham had ever known, who had such a rough, just, heavy-handed humour
-as Sir John Bristol or any such indomitable sense of fair play, and
-that man was Phil's dead father.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-THE ROSE OF DEVON
-
-
-They came to Bristol over the hills that lie to the south of the town.
-They had lost time on the way and had grown weary and sore of foot; and
-finding at last that there was little hope of overtaking at Bideford
-the thin man with whom they had parted on the road, they had turned
-north in Somerset at the end of Polton Hill. They passed first across
-a lonely waste where for miles the only human being they saw was an
-aged man gathering faggots; then over the Mendip Hills and through
-rough valleys and rougher uplands, and so at last to the height whence
-Bristol and Avon Valley and Bristol Channel in the east lie spread in a
-vast panorama.
-
-Far away in Hungroad and Kingroad ships were anchored, but the vessels
-at the wharves of Bristol lay with their keels in mud, for the tide was
-out and the tides of Bristol, as all know, have a wonderful great flow
-and ebb.
-
-The two went on into the town, where there were seafaring men standing
-about and talking of ships, which gave Phil Marsham a feeling of being
-once more at home after his inland travels; and passing this one tavern
-and another, they came to a square where there was a whipping-post and
-a stocks, and a man in the stocks.
-
-Now a man in stocks was a pleasing sight to Phil, for he was not so old
-that he missed the humour of it, and he paused to grin at the unlucky
-wight who bore with ill grace the jeers of the urchins that had
-assembled to do him honour; but when Martin saw the fellow he looked a
-second time and turned very hastily round. Straightway seizing Phil by
-the arm he whispered hoarsely, "Come now, we must hie us away again,
-and that speedily."
-
-"Why in so great haste?" Phil returned. "Here is a pleasant jest. Let
-us stay a while. Who knows but some day we may ourselves sit in the
-bilboes and yonder ballad-maker may take his fill of pleasure at our
-misfortune. Why, then, turn about is fair play. Let us enjoy his while
-there's time." And he waited with quiet glee for Martin's angry reply.
-
-"Fool!" Martin whispered. "Stay and be hanged, an thou wilt."
-
-Thereupon Martin posted in all haste back the way he had come and Phil,
-of no mind to be left now, since they had journeyed together thus far,
-followed at his heels with a curiosity that he was intent on satisfying.
-
-"'Sin,' according to the proverb," he called after Martin, "'begins
-with an itch and ends with a scar,' but methinks thy scars, which are
-numerous, are all an-itch."
-
-"Hist, fool," Martin snarled. "Be still! For ha'pence I'd slit thy
-throat to still thy tongue. I swear I can already feel the hemp at my
-weasand. It burns and spreads like a tetter." And he made haste up out
-of the town till despite his great weight and short wind he had Phil
-puffing at his heels.
-
-"This is queer talk of ropes and hangings. It buzzeth through thy
-noddle like bees in clover. In faith, though thy folly be great, yet it
-sorely presses upon thee, for I have seldom seen a man walk faster. Yet
-at thine ordinary gait a tin-pedlar's broken-down jade can set a pace
-too fast for thee to follow."
-
-"Yea, laugh at me! Wouldst thou stay for sugared pills of pleasure with
-the hangman at thy heels?"
-
-"What has a poor devil in stocks to do with the hangman, prithee? And
-why this fierce haste?"
-
-"Th' art no better than a gooseling--fit for tavern quarrels. And did
-you never see a man dance on air? 'Tis a sight to catch the breath in
-the throat and make an emptiness in a man's belly."
-
-"There be no hangings without reason."
-
-"Reason? Law, logic, and the Switzers can be hired to fight for any
-man, they say. 'Tis true, in any event, of the law. I've seen the
-learned men in wigs wringing a poor man's withers and shaping the
-halter to his neck."
-
-They had talked breathlessly at long intervals in their hasty flight,
-and thus talking they had come out of the town and up from the valley;
-nor would Martin stay to rest till from the southern hill that had
-given them their first prospect of Bristol city they looked back upon
-the houses and the river and the ships. Martin breathed more easily
-then and mopped his forehead and sat down until his wildly beating
-heart was quieter.
-
-"To Bideford we must go, after all," said he, "and 'twere better by far
-had we never turned from the straight road."
-
-"I am of no mind to go farther," Phil replied, looking back. "There
-will be more vessels sailing out of Bristol than out of Bideford. A man
-can choose in which to go."
-
-Martin gulped and rubbed his throat. "Nay, I'll not hear to it. Daniel
-went but once into the lion's den."
-
-He sighed mightily as he thought of begging his long way through
-Somerset and Devon, for he was a big heavy man and lazy and short of
-wind; but he would not go back, though he refused to speak further of
-his reason for it; and Phil, though in truth he liked Martin little,
-was too easy-going to part thus with his companion of the road. The lad
-was young, and the world was wide, and it was still spring in England.
-
-So they turned toward the hills, which were blue and purple in the
-setting sun,--a shepherd, did he but know it, lives in halls more
-splendid than a king's,--and set forth upon their journey through the
-rough lands of Somerset. They went astray among the mines but found
-their way to Wells where, as they came out from the town, they passed
-a gallows, which gave Martin such a start that he stopped for neither
-breath nor speech until he had left that significant emblem of the law
-a mile behind him. They went through Glastonbury, where report has it
-that Joseph of Arimathea and King Arthur and King Edgar lie buried,
-and through Bridgewater, where to their wonder there was a ship of a
-hundred tons riding in the Parret. They went through Dulverton on a
-market day, and crossed the Dunsbrook by the stone bridge and so passed
-into Devon. They went on over heath and hill and through woods and
-green valleys until at the end of seven days from Bristol--for time and
-again they had lost their way, and a sailor on shore is at best like a
-lame horse on a rough road--they crossed the Taw at Barnstable. Again
-going astray, they went nearly to Torrington before they learned their
-blunder and turned down the valley of the Torridge. But all things
-come to an end at last, and one pleasant evening they crossed the
-ancient bridge built on stately Gothic arches into the populous town of
-Bideford.
-
-At the river front there lay a street the better part of a mile long,
-in which were the custom house and a great quay, and there they saw
-ships of good burden loading and unloading in the very bosom of the
-town, as the scribe hath it. Thither Phil would have gone straightly
-but Martin shook his head. So turning up from the river, they passed
-another long street, where the houses of wealthy merchants stood, and
-this, too, Martin hastened quickly by. He shot glances to one side and
-the other as if fearing lest he see faces that he knew, and led his
-companion by an obscure way, as night was falling, to a cottage whence
-a dim light shone through a casement window.
-
-Standing on the rough doorstone under the outcropping thatch, which
-projected beyond the line of the eaves to shield the door from rain, he
-softly knocked. There was no answer, no sound, but the door presently
-moved ajar as if by its own will.
-
-"Who knocks?" an old woman whispered. "'Tis that dark I cannot see thy
-face."
-
-"'Tis thine eyes are ailing. Come, open the door and bid us enter."
-
-"Thy voice hath a familiar ring but I know thee not. Who art thou?"
-
-"We be two honest men."
-
-"Ah, two honest men? And what, prithee, are two honest men doing here?"
-
-"Yea, 'tis a fair thrust and bites both ways! Thou old shrew, dost bar
-the door to Martin Barwick?"
-
-"So 'tis thou. I believe it even is. Enter then, ere the watch spy
-thee. Th' art a plain fool to stand here quibbling thus, though 'tis to
-be expected, since thou wert ever quicker of thy tongue than thy wit.
-But who's thy fellow?"
-
-"Nay, thou old shrew, open to us. He is to be one of us, though a
-London man by birth."
-
-"One of us, say'st thou? Enter and welcome, then, young sir. Mother
-Taylor bids thee welcome. One of us? 'Tis the more pity so few of the
-gentlemen are left in port."
-
-"The Old One?"
-
-"He hath sailed long since." She closed the door behind them, and the
-three stood together in the dark passage. "Hast money?"
-
-"Not a groat."
-
-She sighed heavily. "I shall be ruined. Seven o' the gentlemen ha'
-sailed owing me."
-
-"Yea, thou old shrew, had I a half--nay, had I the tenth part of the
-gold thou hast taken from us and laid away wherever thy hiding-places
-are, I'd go no more to sea. But thou know'st what thou know'st, and
-there's not one among us but will pay his score. The wonder is that of
-them thou could'st hang by a word none has slit thy scrawny throat."
-
-"Aye, they pay, they pay. And the gentlemen bear Mother Taylor nought
-but love. How else could they do their business but for good Mother
-Taylor?" She led them into a little back room where there was a fire
-and a singing kettle; and as she scuttled with a crooked, nimble gait
-from one window to another to make sure that every shutter was fast
-closed, in her cracked old voice she bade them sit.
-
-To his prudent companion, whose quick glance was marking every door
-and window,--for who knows when a man shall have need to leave in
-haste a sailor's inn?--quoth Martin, "The old witch is a rare hand to
-sell a cargo got--thou can'st guess well enough how; and the man who
-would bring a waggon-load of spirits past the customs on a dark night
-or would bargain with a Dartmoor shepherd for wool secretly sheared,
-can lay the matter before her and go his way, knowing she will do his
-business better than he could do it himself. Yea, a man's honour and
-life are safer with her than with any lord in England."
-
-She showed by a grunt that she had heard him but otherwise paid no
-attention to what he said. She brought food from a cupboard and laid
-the table by the fire, and going into a back room, she drew a foaming
-pitcher of beer.
-
-"No wine?" cried Martin. "Mother Taylor has no wine? Come, thou old
-beldame, serve us a stronger tipple."
-
-She laughed shrilly. "The beer," said she, "is from Frome-Selwood."
-
-"Why, then, I must needs drink and say nought, since it is common
-report that the gentry choose it, when well aged, rather than the wine
-of Portugal or France. But my heart was set on good wine or stronger
-spirits."
-
-"He who sails on the morning tide must go sober to bed else he may rue
-his choice. Aye, an' 'tis rare fine beer."
-
-Her old bent back fitted into her bent old chair. Her face settled into
-a myriad wrinkles from which her crooked nose projected like a fish in
-a bulging net. She was very old and very shrewd, and though there was
-something unspeakably hard in her small, cold eyes, Martin trusted her
-as thus far he had trusted no one they had met. Even to Phil she gave
-an odd sense of confidence in her complete loyalty.
-
-At Phil she cast many glances, quick and sharp like a bird's, but she
-never spoke to him nor he to her.
-
-It was Martin who again spoke up, having blunted the edge of his
-hunger. "And now, you old witch, who's in port and where shall we find
-the softest berths? For you've made it plain that since trust us you
-must, you will trust us little--that is to say, it is not in thy head
-that our score shall mount high."
-
-She chuckled down in her skinny old crop. "Let us see. The Old One has
-gone and that's done. You were late."
-
-"'Tis a long road and we went astray."
-
-"There's the Nestor and the Essay. They will be off soon; the one to
-Liverpool for salt, t' other to Ireland for wool."
-
-Martin thereupon set down his pot of beer and significantly rubbed his
-throat, at which the old woman cackled with shrill laughter. "Aye, th'
-art o'er well known in Liverpool. Well, let us consider again. There's
-the Rose of Devon, new come from Plymouth. I hear she's never touched
-at Bideford before and her master hails from Dorset."
-
-"His name?"
-
-"'Tis Candle."
-
-Martin laughed boisterously. "A bright and shining name! But I know him
-not and will chance a singeing. What voyage does she make?"
-
-"She goeth to fetch cod from Newfoundland." The old woman saw him
-hesitate. "A barren voyage, think'st thou? Nay, 'twere well for one of
-the gentlemen to look into that trade. Who knows?"
-
-"True, old mother witch, who knows?" Martin tapped the table. "Can'st
-arrange it?"
-
-"Nay. But I can start the wedge."
-
-"We'll go," said Martin at last. "But now for bed. We've been a weary
-while on the road."
-
-It was a great bed in a small room under the thatch; and as they lay
-there on the good goose-feathers in the dark, Martin said, "We'll sail
-in this Rose of Devon, lad."
-
-Phil, already nearly asleep, stirred and roused up. "Any port in a
-storm," he mumbled. Then, becoming wider awake, he asked, "What is all
-this talk of 'the gentlemen' and who, prithee, is the Old One?"
-
-"Ah, a natural question." Though the room was dark as Egypt, Phil knew
-by Martin's voice--for he could recognize every inflection and change
-in tone--that the sly, crafty look was creeping over his fat, red face.
-"Well," Martin continued after a moment of silence, "by 'the gentlemen'
-she means a few seafaring men that keep company together by custom and
-stop here when ashore--all fine, honest fellows as a man may be proud
-to know. I have hopes that some day you'll be one of us, Phil my lad,
-and some day I'll tell you more. As for the Old One, it very curiously
-happens that you have met with him. Do you recall to mind the thin man
-I quarrelled with, that first day?"
-
-"Yea."
-
-"That is the Old One, and Tom Jordan is his proper name."
-
-It was Martin, after all, who fell asleep first, for Phil lay in the
-great bed in the small room, thinking of all that had happened since
-the day he fled from Moll Stevens's alehouse. There was Colin Samson,
-whose dirk he wore; there was the wild-eyed, black-haired man with the
-great book and the woeful tale; there were Martin, and Tom Jordan, "the
-Old One"; there were the inn and the old lady and gentleman--it all
-seemed so utterly unreal!--and Nell Entick, and Sir John Bristol. He
-fell asleep thinking of Nell and Sir John and dreamed of marrying Nell
-and keeping a tavern, to which the bluff old knight came in the guise
-of a very aged gentleman from Little Grimsby with a coachman who went
-poaching pheasants in the tavern yard.
-
-It was early morning when Mother Taylor called them down to breakfast
-at a table burdened with good food such as they had not eaten for many
-long days. She sat by the fire, a bent old woman in a round-backed
-little chair, watching them with keen small eyes while they ate, and
-smiling in a way that set her wrinkles all a-quiver to see them empty
-dish after dish.
-
-"Th' art a good old witch, Mother Taylor, though the Devil cry nay,"
-said Martin. "Though thy score be high never did'st thou grudge a man
-the meat he ate."
-
-"'Tis not for nought the gentlemen love Mother Taylor," she quavered.
-"What can a woman do when her beauty's gone but hold a man by the food
-she sets before him? 'Tis the secret of blessed marriage, Martin, and
-heaven send thee a wife as knows it like I!"
-
-"Beauty, thou old beldame! What did'st thou ever know of beauty? But
-beauty is a matter of little moment. Hast thou prepared the way for us?"
-
-She laughed in shrill delight at his rough jesting. "Aye, I ha' sent a
-messenger. Seek out the Rose of Devon and do thy part, and all shall be
-well."
-
-"And whence does good Captain Candle expect his men?"
-
-"Say to Captain Candle that thou and this handsome young gentleman who
-says so little are come from the Mersey, where thy vessel, the Pride o'
-Lancashire, lies to be repaired, and that Master Stephen Gangley sent
-thee."
-
-She looked at Phil, who had learned long before to hold his tongue in
-strange places, and he smiled; but Martin laughed hoarsely. "Th' art
-the Devil's own daughter. And does this Master Stephen Gangley in all
-truth dwell in Liverpool?"
-
-"Dost think my wits are wandering, Martin? Nay, I be old, but not so
-old as that. Go hastily through the town lest thou be seen and known.
-Thou, of all the gentlemen, most needs make haste."
-
-The two stopped just inside the door. "You have chalked down the score
-against us?"
-
-She laughed in her skinny throat. "I be old, but not so old as to
-forget the score. The gentlemen always pay."
-
-She pushed Martin out and shut the door behind him, then, seizing Phil
-by the arm, she whispered, "Leave him."
-
-Martin angrily thrust the door open again and she gave Phil a shove
-that sent him stumbling over the threshold. The door slammed shut and
-they heard the bolt slide.
-
-"They pay," Martin muttered. "Yea, they pay in full and the old witch
-hath got rich thereby, for 'tis pay or hang. So much does she know of
-all that goes on at sea! In faith, I sorely mistrust she is a witch in
-all earnest; but even be it so, a most useful witch."
-
-As the two came into the town they saw at a distance a crowd gathering.
-Dogs barked and boys shouted and men came running and laughing, which
-seemed to give promise of rare sport of one kind or another.
-
-"See!" cried Phil, catching Martin by the arm. "Here's a game. Come,
-let us join the cry."
-
-"Thou art a very pattern of blockishness," quoth Martin. "Would'st see
-us in pillory, egged, turnipped, nay, beaten at the post?"
-
-"Come, old frog, I for one will run the hazard."
-
-"Old frog, is it?" Martin's face flamed redder than before. "An we
-loiter there'll be sharp eyes upon us. My very throat is itching at the
-thought. Justice is swift. Who knows but we'll swing by sundown? Hast
-never considered the pains of hanging? The way they dance and twitch is
-enough to take the sap out of a man's legs."
-
-Martin's fears were an old story and the lad heeded them so little,
-save when he would make game of them, that he never even smiled. "See!"
-he cried. "There's a man in their midst. Stay! Who is he? He is--yea,
-he is the very one, come back to Bideford despite his fears. And it
-seems the townsfolk know him well."
-
-The jeering mob parted and revealed a lank man with a great book. His
-voice rose above their clamour, "O well beloved, O well beloved, never
-was a man perplexed with such diversity of thoughts!"
-
-But Martin was gone, and Phil hastening after him saw a face in a
-window, which was watching Martin hurry through the town. And when Phil
-pursued Martin the eyes in the window scanned the lad from head to foot.
-
-They found lying at the quay the vessel they sought, and a brave
-frigate she was, with high poop and nobly carved fiddlehead and sharp,
-deep cutwater. The gun-deck ports were closed, but on the main deck was
-a great show of ordnance with new carriages and new yellow breechings.
-There were swivel-guns on the forecastle and the quarter-deck and there
-was a finely wrought lantern of bronze and glass at the stern. But as
-they came up to her, a cloud hid the sun and the gilded carving ceased
-to shine and the bright colours lost their brilliance and her black,
-high sides loomed up sombrely, and to Phil she seemed for the moment
-very dark and forbidding.
-
-Of this Martin appeared to have no perception, for he smiled and
-whispered, "Mother Taylor hath done well by us. This Rose of Devon is a
-tall ship and by all the signs she will be well found."
-
-There were men standing about the capstan on the main deck and voices
-came from the forecastle; but on the poop there leaned against the rail
-to watch the two come down the quay a single man, of an age in the
-middle-thirties, with a keen, strong face, who wore a good coat on his
-back and had the manner of a king in a small island.
-
-They stepped under the poop and Martin doffed his hat, having assumed
-his most ingratiating smile. "An it please you, sir," said he, "have I
-the honour to address Captain Candle of the Rose of Devon frigate?"
-
-"I am Captain Candle."
-
-"Good morrow to thee, sir, and Master Stephen Gangley of Liverpool sent
-us--"
-
-"Yea, I received his letter. I know him not, but it seems he knows
-friends of mine. You are over heavy for a good seaman but your fellow
-takes my eye."
-
-Martin stammered and flamed up with anger, and perceiving this, the
-captain smiled.
-
-"Let it be," he said. "I can make room for the two, and to judge by
-your looks, if you are slow aloft at handling and hauling, we can use
-you to excellent purpose as a cook. Of good food and plenty it is plain
-you know the secret."
-
-He watched policy contend with anger in Martin's face and his own
-expression gave no hint of what went on in his mind; but there was that
-about him which made Phil believe he was inwardly laughing, and Phil
-had an instant liking for the man, which, if one might judge by the
-captain's glance or two, was returned.
-
-"You may sign the articles in the tavern yonder," he said. "You are
-none too early, for we sail in an hour's time to get the tide."
-
-As Phil followed Martin into the tavern he saw a bustle and flurry in
-the street, but it passed and while they waited by the fire for the
-captain and the agent to come with the articles he thought no more of
-it.
-
-They came at last, and other seamen with them, and spread the articles
-on the oaken table where one man might sign after another. And when
-Martin's turn was come, he tried to speak of wages, but the captain
-named the figure and bade him sign, and before he thought, he had done
-so. He stood back, cursing under his breath, and when the captain named
-a higher wage for Phil, Martin's cursing became an audible mumble,
-which drew from master and agent a sharp glance. Though Martin smiled
-and looked about as if to see whence the sound came, he deceived no one.
-
-The men filed out of the tavern, walking soberly behind the master, and
-proceeded down the quay to their ship. Their feet clattered on the
-cobbles and they swung along at a rolling gait. Some were sober and
-some were drunk; and some were merry and some were sad. Some eyed one
-another with the curiosity that a man feels if he must sit, for months
-to come, at cheek and jowl with strangers; and some bent their eyes on
-the ground as if ill at ease and uncertain of their own discretion in
-thus committing themselves to no one knew what adventures in distant
-seas and lands.
-
-Thus they came to the ship, following at the master's heels, and thus
-they filed on board, while Captain Candle stood at one side and looked
-them over as they passed.
-
-To a young fellow leaning over the waist one of the men called, "Well
-met, Will Canty!"
-
-Looking up, Phil himself then caught the eye of a lad of his own years
-who was returning the hail of a former shipmate, and since each of the
-youths found something to his taste in the appearance of the other, on
-the deck of the ship they joined company.
-
-"You come late," said the one who had answered to the name of Will
-Canty. "Unless I am much mistaken, you were not on board yesterday."
-
-He was tall and slender and very straight, and he carried his head with
-an erectness that seemed at first glance to savour of vanity. His face,
-too, was of a sober cast and his expression restrained. Yet he seemed a
-likable fellow, withal, and one whom a man could trust.
-
-"I have not until now set foot on this deck," Phil replied. "But
-having seen many vessels in my time, I venture that the Rose of Devon
-is a staunch ship, as Captain Candle, it is plain to see, is a proper
-master."
-
-"Yea, both sayings are true. I know, for I have sailed before in this
-ship with Captain Candle."
-
-An order bawled from the quarter-deck caused a great stir, and for the
-moment put an end to their talk, but they were to see more of each
-other.
-
-Casting off the moorings in answer to the word of command, the men
-sprang to the capstan. It was "Heave, my bullies!" and "Pull, my hearts
-of gold!" Some, in a boat, carried out an anchor and others laboured
-at the capstan. The old frigate stirred uneasily and slipped away from
-the wharf, rolling slightly with the motion of the sea, and thus they
-kedged her into the tide.
-
-"Bend your passeree to the mainsail!"
-
-Back came a roaring chorus, "Yea, yea!"
-
-"Get your sails to the yards there--about your gear on all hands!"
-
-"Yea, yea!" men here and there replied.
-
-"Hoist sails half-mast high--make ready to set sail!"
-
-"Yea, yea!"
-
-"Cross your yards!"
-
-"Yea, yea!"
-
-"Bring the cable to the capstan--Boatswain, fetch the anchor
-aboard!--Break ground!--Up there, a hand to the foretop and loose the
-foretopsail!"
-
-"Yea, yea!" And the first man to set foot on the ratlines was running
-up the rigging.
-
-It was Philip Marsham, for to him the sea was home and there was no
-night so dark he could not find his way about a ship. Nor did his
-promptness escape the sharp eye of Captain Candle.
-
-Now, while the captain stood with folded arms at the poop, his mate
-cried, "Come, my hearts, heave up your anchor! Come one and all! Who
-says _Amen_? O brave hearts, the anchor a-peak!"
-
-"Yea, yea!"
-
-"Heave out your topsails!--Haul your sheets!--Let fall your
-foresail!--You at the helm, there, steer steady before the wind!"
-
-On all the vessels in the harbour, and all along the quay and the
-streets, men had stopped their work to see the Rose of Devon sail. But
-though most of them stood idle and silent, there was a sudden flurry
-on the quay where but now she had been lying, and two men burst out,
-calling after her and waving their arms.
-
-"'Tis the beadle and the constable," the men muttered. "Who of us hath
-got to sea to escape the law?"
-
-The mate turned to the master, but the master firmly shook his head.
-"Come, seize the tide," he called. "We will stay for no man."
-
-"Heave out the foretopsail--heave out the main topsail--haul home your
-topsail sheets!"
-
-The men aloft let the lesser sails fall; the men on deck sheeted them
-home and hoisted them up. The mate kept bawling a multitude of orders:
-"Haul in the cable there and coil it in small fakes! Haul the cat! A
-bitter! Belay! Luff, my man, luff! You, there, with the shank painter,
-make fast your anchor!"
-
-Then came the voice of the master, which always his mate echoed, "Let
-fall your mainsail!"
-
-And the echo, "Let fall your mainsail!"
-
-"Yea, yea!"
-
-"On with your bonnets and drabblers!"
-
-And again came the echo from the mate, "On with your bonnets and
-drabblers!"
-
-"Yea, yea!"
-
-The great guns ranged along the deck--each bound fast by its new
-breechings--with their linstocks and sponges and ladles and rammers,
-made no idle show of warlike strength. There was too often need to let
-their grim voices sound at bay, for those were wild, lawless days.
-
-Such a ship as the Rose of Devon frigate, standing out for the open
-sea, is a sight the world no longer affords. Those ships are "gone,
-gone, gone with lost Atlantis." Their lofty poops, their little
-bonaventure masts, their lateen sails aft, their high forecastles
-and tall bowsprits with the square spritsail flaunted before the
-fiddlehead, came down from an even earlier day; for the Rose of Devon
-had been an ancient craft when King James died and King Charles
-succeeded to the throne. But she was a fine tall ship and staunch
-notwithstanding her years, and there was newly gilded carving on bow
-and stern and a new band of crimson ran her length. With her great
-sails spread she thrust her nose into the heavy swell that went rolling
-up the Bristol Channel, and nodding and curtseying to old Neptune, she
-entered upon his dominions.
-
-She was, as I have said, a brave tall ship, yet, despite her gilded
-carving and her band of crimson, her towering sides which were painted
-black gave her a singularly dark appearance, and she put to sea like a
-shadow out of older days.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-THE SHIP'S LIAR
-
-
-Death by land is a sobering thing and works many changes; but to my
-thought death at sea is more terrible, for there is a vast loneliness,
-with only a single ship in the midst of it, and an empty hammock for
-days and weeks and even months, to keep a man in mind of what has
-happened; and death at sea may work as many changes as death by land.
-
-Now the Rose of Devon was a week from England when a footrope parted
-and the boatswain pitched down, clutching at the great belly of the
-sail, and plunged out of sight. And what could a man do to save him?
-They never saw him after that first wild plunge. There, aloft, was the
-parted rope, its ends frayed out and hanging. Below decks was the empty
-berth. The blustering old boatswain, with his great roaring voice and
-his quick ear for a tune, had gone upon the ultimate adventure which
-all must face, each man for himself; but they only said, "Did you see
-the wild look in his eyes when he fell?" And, "I fear we shall hear his
-pipe of nights." And, "'Tis a queer thought that Neddie Hart is to lie
-in old Davy Jones's palace, with the queer sea-women all about him,
-awaiting for his old shipmates."
-
-Presently the master's boy came forward into the forecastle, where the
-men off duty were sitting and talking of the one who had fallen so
-far, had sunk so deep, had gone on a journey so long that they should
-never see him again; and quietly--for the boy was much bedevilled and
-trembled with fright to think of putting his head, as it were, into the
-mouth of the lion--he crept behind Philip Marsham and whispered in his
-ear, "The master would see thee in the great cabin."
-
-They sat at close quarters in the forecastle of the Rose of Devon, and
-the boy had barely room to pass the table and the benches, for the
-men had crowded in and put their heads together; but for once they
-were too intent on their own thoughts to heed his coming or his going,
-which gave him vast comfort. (Little enough comfort the poor devil got,
-between the men forward and the officers aft!)
-
-So Phil rose and followed.
-
-The great cabin, when he entered, was empty. He stood at loss, waiting,
-but curiously observed meanwhile the rich hangings and the deep chairs
-and the cupboards filled with porcelain ware. There was plate on the
-cabin table and a rich cloak lay thrown loosely over a chair; and he
-thought to himself that those deep-sea captains lived like princes, as
-indeed they did.
-
-He shifted his weight from foot to foot in growing uneasiness. The boy
-had disappeared. There was no sound of voice or step. Then, as the ship
-rolled and Phil put out a foot to brace himself, a door swung open and
-revealed on the old-fashioned walk that ran across the stem under the
-poop, the lean, big-boned figure of Captain Francis Candle.
-
-The master of the Rose of Devon stood with folded arms and bent head,
-but though his head was bent, his eyes, the lad could see, were peering
-from under his heavy brows at the horizon. He swayed as the ship
-rolled, and remained intent on his thoughts, which so absorbed him that
-he had quite forgotten sending the boy for Philip Marsham.
-
-So Phil waited; and the broad hat that hung on the bulkhead scraped
-backward and forward as the ship plunged into the trough and rose on
-the swell; and Captain Candle remained intent on his thoughts; and a
-sea bird circled over the wake of the ship.
-
-After a long time the master turned about and walked into the cabin
-and, there espying Philip Marsham, he smiled and said, "I was remiss. I
-had forgotten you." He threw aside the cloak that lay on the chair and
-sat down.
-
-"Sit you down," he said with a nod. "You are a practised seaman, no
-lame, decrepit fellow who serves for underwages. Have you mastered the
-theory?"
-
-"Why, sir, I am not unacquainted with astrolabe and quadrant, and on
-scales and tables I have spent much labour."
-
-"So!" And his manner showed surprise. Then, "Inkpot and quill are
-before you. Choose a fair sheet and put down thereon the problem I
-shall set you."
-
-The captain leaned back and half closed his eyes while Phil spread the
-paper and dipped the quill.
-
-"Let us say," he finally continued, "that two ships sail from one port.
-The first sails south-south-west a certain distance; then altering
-her course, she sails due west ninety-two leagues. The second ship,
-having sailed six-score leagues, meets with the first ship. I demand
-the second ship's course and rhomb, and how many leagues the first ship
-sailed south-south-west. Now, my man, how go you to work?"
-
-Phil studied the problem as he had set it down, and wrinkled his brows
-over it, while Captain Candle lay back with a flicker of a smile on his
-lips and watched the lad struggle with his thoughts.
-
-After a time Phil raised his head. "First, sir," said he, "I shall
-draw the first ship's rhomb thus, from A unto E, which shall be
-south-south-west. Then I shall lay a line from A unto C as the ninety
-leagues that she sailed west. Next I shall lay my line from C to D, and
-further, as her south-west course. Then I shall lay from A a line that
-shall correspond to the six-score leagues the second ship sailed, which
-cuts at D the line I drew before." As he talked, he worked with his
-pen, and the master, rising as if in surprise, bent over the table and
-watched every motion.
-
-The pen drew lines and arcs and lettered them and wrote out a problem
-in proportions. Hesitating, the point crawled over columns of figures.
-
-"The rhomb of the second ship," said Phil at last, "is degrees
-sixty-seven, and minutes thirty-six. Her course is near
-west-south-west. And the first ship sailed forty-nine leagues."
-
-Tapping the table, as one does who meditates, Captain Candle looked
-more sharply at the lad. "You are clever with your pen."
-
-"'Tis owing to the good Dr. Arber at Roehampton," Phil replied. "Had I
-abode with him longer, I had been cleverer still, for he was an able
-scholar; but there was much in school I had no taste for."
-
-The captain's eyes searched his face. "I sent for you," he said,
-"because I was minded to make you my boatswain. But now, if my mate
-were lost, I swear I'd seat you at mine own table."
-
-Phil rose.
-
-"Go then, Master Boatswain. But stay! You and your comerado make a
-strange pair. How came you bedfellows?"
-
-"Why, sir, we met upon the road--"
-
-"Yea, not at sea! Not at sea! Enough is said. Begone, Master Boatswain,
-begone!"
-
-"How now," cried Martin when Phil passed him on the deck. "Art thou
-called before the mast?" And he laughed till he shook.
-
-"Nay, he hath made me his boatswain."
-
-"Thou?"
-
-"Yea, comerado."
-
-"Thou? A mere gooseling? The master's on the road to Bedlam! Why here
-am I--" Martin's red face flamed hot.
-
-"Yea, he spoke of thee."
-
-"Ah!"
-
-"Quoth he, thou art a fine fellow, but hot-tempered, Martin, and
-overbold."
-
-"Ah!" The crafty, sly look came upon Martin's face and he puffed with
-pride; but Phil, delighting to see the jest take effect, laughed before
-his eyes, which sorely perplexed him.
-
-"A fine fellow, but overbold," Martin muttered, as he coiled the cable
-in neat fakes. "Yea, I did not believe he thought so well of me. From
-the glances he hath bestowed upon me, it was in my mind he was a narrow
-man,--" Martin smiled and dallied over his work,--"one with no eye for
-a mariner of parts and skill. 'A fine fellow, but overbold!' Nay, that
-is fair speech and it seems he hath a very searching observation."
-
-Standing erect, Martin folded his arms and swelled like a turkey-cock.
-His eyes being on the horizon and his back toward the watchful mate, he
-remained unaware that he had attracted the mate's attention.
-
-"A fine fellow, but overbold," he repeated and smiled with a very
-haughty air.
-
-The mate, casting his eyes about the deck, picked up a handy end of
-rope and made a knot in it. One man and another and another became
-aware of the play that the mate and Martin were about to set and,
-grinning hugely, they paused in their work to watch, even though they
-risked getting themselves into such a plight as Martin's. The captain
-came to the break of the quarter-deck and, perceiving the fun afoot,
-leaned on the swivel-gun. Slowly his humour mastered his dignity and a
-smile twitched at his lips.
-
-"A fine fellow, but overbold," Martin was murmuring for the fourth
-time, when the rope whistled and wound about his ribs and the knot
-fetched up on his belly with a thump that knocked his wind clean out.
-
-He made a horrible face, gasping for breath, and his ruddy colour
-darkened to purple. Reaching for his knife he whirled round and drew
-steel.
-
-"What rakehell muckworm, what base stinkard, what--" He met the cold
-eye of the mate and for a moment flinched, then, burning with his
-own folly, he cried, "Thou villain, to strike thus a man the captain
-himself called a fine fellow but overbold!"
-
-A snicker grew in the silence and swelled into a rumble of laughter;
-then, by the forecastle bulkhead, a man began to bawl, "A liar! A liar!"
-
-The mate stopped short and his hand fell.
-
-A score of voices took up the cry--"A liar! A liar!"--and Martin turned
-pale.
-
-Captain Candle on the quarter-deck was laughing softly and the mate in
-glee slapped his thigh. "Thou yerking, firking, jerking tinker," said
-he, "dost hear the cry? 'Tis a Monday morning and they are crying thee
-at the mainmast."
-
-"A liar! A liar!" the men bawled, crowding close about.
-
-"But 'tis no lie. Or this foully deceitful comerado, this half-fledged
-boatswain--" It came suddenly upon Martin that he had been sorely
-gulled, and that to reveal the truth would fix upon him the lasting
-ridicule of his shipmates. He swelled in fury and gave them angry
-glances but they only laughed the louder, then, rope in hand, the mate
-stepped toward him.
-
-Though he made a motion as if to stand his ground, at sight of the rope
-Martin's hand shook in his haste to thrust his knife back into the
-sheath.
-
-It was the old custom of the sea that they should hail as a liar the
-man first caught in a lie on a Monday morning and proclaim him thus
-from the mainmast, and unhappy was the man thus hailed, for thereby
-he became for a week the "ship's liar" and held his place under the
-swabber.
-
-"For seven days, thou old cozzener," said the mate, "thou shalt keep
-clean the beakhead and the chains, and lucky art thou to be at sea.
-Ashore they would have whipped thee through the streets at the cart's
-tail."
-
-Again a great wave of laughter swept the deck and by his face Martin
-showed his anger. But though he was "a fine fellow" and "overbold," he
-kept his tongue between his teeth; and whatever he suspected of Philip
-Marsham, he held his peace and went over the bow with ill grace and
-fell to scraping the chains, which was a task to humble the tallest
-pride. There was that in the laughter of the crew which had taught
-discretion to even bolder men than Martin Barwick.
-
-"I have seen his kind before," a voice said low in Phil's ear. "But
-though there be much of the calf in him, beware lest you rouse him to
-such a pitch that he will draw and strike."
-
-It was Will Canty, the youth who had already won the young boatswain's
-liking, spoke thus. He was a comerado more to Phil's taste than was
-the luckless Martin; but fate is not given to consulting tastes, and
-necessity forces upon a traveller such bedfellows as he meets by the
-way.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-STORM
-
-
-The storm brewed long in gray banks of cloud that hung in the west and
-north. It drew around the Rose of Devon from north to east with a slow,
-immutable force, as yet perceived rather than felt, till she sailed in
-the midst of a circle of haze. At night the moon was ringed. The sun
-rose in a bank of flaming red and the small sea-birds that by their
-presence, mariners say, tell of coming gales, played over the wake.
-
-Captain Candle from the poop sniffed at the damp air: and studying
-the winds as they veered and rose in brisk flourishes and fell to the
-merest whisper of a breeze, he puckered his lips, which was his way
-when thoughts crowded upon him. Martin on the beakhead pursued his
-noisome task of cleaning it under the watchful eye of the swabber
-(who took unkind joy in exacting from him the utmost pains), and cast
-furtive glances at the gray swell that came shouldering up from the
-east.
-
-"Holla, boatswain," the captain cried.
-
-"Yea, yea!"
-
-"Our foresail is old and hath lost its goodness. Look to thy stores and
-see if there be not another. Have it ready, then, to bend in haste if
-there be need."
-
-"Yea, yea!"
-
-"And lay out thy cordage, boatswain, that if sheet or halyard or
-tackling shall part, we may be ready to bend another in its place."
-
-Descending thereupon into the forehold with his boatswain's mate to
-fetch and carry, Boatswain Marsham fell to work overhauling the bolts
-of sail-cloth and the hanks of cordage and the coils of rope, till he
-had found a new foresail and laid it under the hatch, and had placed
-great ropes and such cordage as headlines and marlines and sennets so
-that a man could lay hands on them in a time of haste and confusion.
-For the Rose of Devon was heavily pitching and the seas crashed on her
-three-inch planks with a noise like thunderclaps; and when she lifted
-on the swell, the water rumbled against her bilge and gurgled away past
-her run.
-
-Very faintly he heard a sailor's voice, "The pump is choked." There
-was shouting above for a time, then the cry arose, which brought
-reassurance to all, "Now she sucks," and again there was quiet.
-
-Climbing through the hatch and passing aft along the main deck, he
-heard for himself the _suck-suck_ from the pump well, then the rattle
-of tiller and creak of pintle as the helmsmen eased her off and brought
-her on to meet a rising sea.
-
-"Holla, master!"
-
-"Holla, is all laid ready below?"
-
-"Yea! Ropes and cordage and sail are laid ready upon the main deck and
-secured against the storm."
-
-"And seemeth she staunch to one in the hold?"
-
-"Yea, master."
-
-"Then, boatswain, call up the men to prayer and breakfast, for we shall
-doubtless have need of both ere the day is done. Boy, fetch my cellar
-of bottles, for I would drink a health to all, fore and aft, and I
-would have the men served out each a little sack."
-
-By midday the veering winds had settled in the east and the overcast
-sky had still further darkened. The ship, labouring heavily, held her
-course; but as the wind blew up a fresh gale, the after sails took the
-wind from the sails forward, which began to beat and thresh. Swarming
-aloft, the younkers handed the fore-topsail-steering-sail, the fore and
-main topsails, and the main-topsail-staysail. But as they manned the
-foreyard, the ship yawed in such a manner that the full force of the
-wind struck the old foresail and split it under their fingers.
-
-Philip Marsham on the weather yardarm, with the grey seas breaking in
-foam beneath him at one minute and with the forecastle itself seeming
-to rise up at him the next minute, so heavily did the old ship roll,
-was reaching for the sail at the moment it tore to ribands; and a
-billow of grey canvas striking him in the face knocked him off the
-yard; but as he fell, he locked his legs round the spar and got finger
-hold on the earing, and crawled back to the mast as the sailors stood
-by the ropes to strike the yard and get in the threshing tatters of the
-sail.
-
-The mate, going aft, was caught in the waist when the ship gave a
-mighty lurch, and went tumbling to lee-ward where the scupper-holes
-were spouting like so many fountains all a-row. The fall might well
-have ended his days, had he not bumped into the capstan where he clung
-fast with both arms, and twice lucky he was to stay his fall thus, for
-a sea came roaring over the waist and drowned the fountains in the
-scuppers and in a trice the decks were a-wash from forecastle to poop.
-But the old ship shook her head and righted and Captain Francis Candle,
-leaning against the wind, his cloak flapping in the gale and his hat
-hauled hard down over his eyes, descended from the poop and braced
-himself in its lee.
-
-"The wind blows frisking," the mate cried, scrambling up the ladder and
-joining the master.
-
-"Yea, it is like to over-blow. She took a shrewd plunge but now. We
-shall further our voyage by striking every sail. Go thou, mate, and
-have them secure the spritsail-yard, then take thy station on the
-forecastle."
-
-For an hour or two the old Rose of Devon went plunging through the
-seas; and there was much loosing and lowering of sails. For a while,
-then, the wind scanted so that there was hope the storm had passed, and
-during the lull they bent and set the new foresail and must needs brace
-and veer and haul aft. But ere long the gale blew up amain, and in the
-late afternoon Captain Candle, sniffing the breeze, called upon all to
-stand by and once more to hand both foresail and mainsail.
-
-"Cast off the topsail sheets, clew garnets, leechlines and buntlines!"
-The order came thinly through the roar of the wind.
-
-"Yea, yea!" a shrill voice piped.
-
-"Stand by the sheet and brace--come lower the yard and furl the
-sail--see that your main halyards be clear and all the rest of your
-gear clear and cast off."
-
-"It is all clear."
-
-"Lower the main yard--haul down upon your down-haul." As the yard
-swayed down and the men belayed the halyards, one minute staggering to
-keep their feet, the next minute slipping and sliding across the decks,
-the captain's sharp voice, holding them at their work, cut through the
-gale, "Haul up the clew garnets, lifts, leechlines and buntlines!
-Come, furl the sail fast and secure the yard lest it traverse and gall!"
-
-"'Twas a fierce gust," an old sailor cried to Phil, who had reached
-for the rigging and saved himself from going down to the lee scuppers.
-"We best look the guns be all fast. I mind, in the Grace and Mary, my
-second Guinea voyage, a gun burst its breechings--"
-
-"Belay the fore down-haul!" the mate thundered, and leaving his tale
-untold, the old man went crawling forward.
-
-The men heard faintly the orders to the helmsman, "Hard
-a-weather!--Right your helm!--Now port, port hard! More hands! He
-cannot put up the helm!"
-
-Then out of the turmoil and confusion a great voice cried, "A sail! A
-sail!"
-
-"Where?"
-
-"Fair by us."
-
-"How stands she?"
-
-"To the north'ard."
-
-She lay close hauled by the wind and as the Rose of Devon, scudding
-before the sea, bore down the wind and upon her, she hove out signs to
-speak; but though Captain Candle passed under her lee as near as he
-dared venture and learned by lusty shouting that she was an English
-ship from the East Indies, which begged the Rose of Devon for God's
-sake to spare them some provisions, since they were eighty persons on
-board who were ready to perish for food and water, the seas ran so
-high that neither the one vessel nor the other dared hoist out a boat;
-and parting, the men of the Rose of Devon lost sight of her in the
-gathering dusk.
-
-Still more and more the storm increased. Darkness came, but there was
-no rest at sea that night.
-
-Thanks to the storm, and the labour and anxiety it brought all hands,
-Martin, the latter part of that day, escaped the duties of ship's liar,
-and glad was he of the chance to slip unobserved about the deck with
-no reminder of his late humiliation. But by night he was blue with
-the cold, and drenching wet and so hungry that he gnawed at a bit of
-biscuit when he needed both hands to haul on a rope.
-
-Finding Phil Marsham at his shoulder and still resenting bitterly the
-jest to which he had fallen victim, he shot at him an ill-tempered
-glance and in sullen silence turned his back.
-
-"Belay!"
-
-A line of struggling men tripped and stumbled as they secured the rope
-and went swaying and staggering across the deck when the ship rolled;
-for the weight of her towering superstructure and her cannon would set
-her wallowing fearfully in the merest seaway. One caught up the rope's
-end in loose coils; another, having fallen, got clumsily on his feet
-and staunched his bleeding nose; the rest shivered as the icy wind
-struck through their wet shirts.
-
-Martin again turned his back on the boatswain and hugged himself, but
-to little profit, although his fat arms covered a goodly area. Phil
-laughed softly at Martin's show of spleen and was about to warm the
-man's temper further by a thrust well calculated to stir him to fury,
-when the ship rose with a queer lurch and descended into a veritable
-gulf.
-
-They saw above them a sea looming like a black cloud. It mounted slowly
-up, hung over them, curled down a dark tongue of water and, before
-the Rose of Devon had righted from her plunge into the trough, broke
-upon the ship and overwhelmed her. The waist was flooded from the head
-of the forecastle to the break of the poop. Water, licking across the
-quarter-deck, rose in a great wave that drenched the captain to his
-thighs and poured into the steerage room, momentarily blinding the men
-at the helm,--for in those old ships they stood with their faces on
-a level with the quarter-deck,--and, following whipstaff and tiller,
-spilled into the main deck and hold.
-
-Philip Marsham, as the water washed him off his feet, made shift to lay
-hands on the shrouds, and though he had no footing and was washed far
-out over the side, his grasp was strong and he held himself against the
-rush of water as the ship rose like a dog shaking its head and coming
-up through a wave. In very truth she seemed to shake her head and
-struggle up to the black night above. But as Phil saved himself he saw
-Martin cowering by a gun and striving to reach the breeching; and as
-the ship rose, the lad half felt, half saw, some great body washed past
-him and over the side.
-
-There was no one beside the gun: Martin was gone.
-
-Though a man were a knave and liar, Phil Marsham had no stomach to
-see him drown thus; and though he held old Martin in contempt and
-bedevilled him night and day, yet he had a curious liking for the
-fellow. Overhead there hung from the maintop a loose rope. He faintly
-saw it swinging against the leaden-black sky. By a nimble leap there
-was a fair chance a man might reach it and if it did not part, an
-active man might by a stroke of fortune regain the ship. All this Phil
-saw in the falling of a single grain of sand, then the rope swung
-within reach of his hand and he seized it. Spared the hazard of
-leaping for it, he let go the shrouds and swung with all his strength
-out into the night.
-
-Swinging high over the sea he saw for an instant, while he was in
-mid-air, the Rose of Devon surging away from under him. The single
-great lanthorn was burning on her poop, and dim lights in forecastle
-and cabin showed that those parts of the ship, at least, had come up
-through the sea unflooded. He thought he saw a cloaked figure like a
-shadow on the quarter-deck. Then he slid down into darkness till the
-rope burned his hands, then he struck the water and went under, gasping
-at the shock, for the sea was as cold as a mountain stream. He caught
-a last glimpse of the great ship, now looming high above him, then
-clutching fast the rope with one hand and wildly kicking out, he felt
-with his knees what might be a man's body.
-
-With his free hand he reached for the body. He snatched at an arm and
-missed it, then felt hair brushing his fingers and tangled them in it
-and gripped it. He went down and down; then the drag of the water, for
-the ship was scudding fast, raised him to the surface. The ship rolled
-toward him and he again went under, overshadowed by the lofty poop
-which leaned out so far that notwithstanding the tumble home he thought
-the poop would come down and crush him. The ship then rolled away from
-him, and the rope brought up on his arm so hard that he feared the
-bones would pull from their sockets; but if he died in doing it he was
-bound he would hold the rope and keep his man.
-
-The ship rolled till he bumped against her side and was lifted half out
-of water.
-
-"Help!" he cried. "Help or we die!"
-
-He heard voices above and felt the rope move as if some one had seized
-it, then the looming bulk of the ship rolled back and drove him again
-down into the sea.
-
-He had no wind left for calling when he came up as once more the ship
-rolled, but the man he held had come to life and was clinging like a
-leech to the rope, which vastly lightened the strain, and some one
-above was hauling on it. For a moment the two swung in air with the sea
-beneath them, then the ship rolled farther and their weight rested on
-planks, and hands from within the ship reached down and lifted them on
-board.
-
-The man--and it was indeed Martin--coughed like one who is deathly
-sick, as well he might be, and went rolling down the deck with a boy to
-help him. But Phil, having kept his head and having swallowed no great
-quantity of salt water, was able after breathing deeply a few times to
-stand alone beside Will Canty whose hands had drawn him to safety, and
-to perceive that waist, boat, capstan, windlass and sheet anchor were
-washed away.
-
-He then heard a pounding and shouting aft. "What in the fiend's name
-hath befallen us?" he demanded.
-
-"'Tis even worse than doth appear," Will cried. "The sea hath a free
-passage into the hold between the timber heads. They are pumping with
-both pumps. The captain hath ordered the mizzenmast cut away, the
-better to keep us before the wind. Hear you not the sound of axes?
-And--"
-
-Out of the darkness burst the mate. "Come, my hearts! Below there! Cram
-blankets and hammocks into the leak, yea, the shirts from off your
-backs! And then to the pumps to take your turn. And pray Almighty God
-to give us sight of another day."
-
-There was running on the deck and shadows passed forward and aft.
-
-From the quarter-deck a clear voice, so sharp that it pierced the noise
-of the storm, was calling, "Port the helm! Ease her, ease her! Now up!
-Hard up! Ease her, ease her!"
-
-As the boatswain dropped through the hatch, he saw very dimly the
-captain crouching under the poop, his cloak drawn close about him.
-
-There was wild confusion below, for as the ship rolled to starboard the
-sea burst in through the great gap along the timber heads and pushed
-through the gap and into the ship the blankets and rugs that were
-stuffed in place. Though the men leaped after them and came scrambling
-back to force them again into place between the timbers, and though
-they tore down hammocks and jammed them in with the blankets to fill
-the great opening, yet as the ship again rolled and the sea once more
-came surging against the barrier, they again fled before it, and again
-the sea cleared the gap and came flooding in upon the deck. It was a
-sight to fill a brave man with despair.
-
-The more hands made faster work, and though the labour seemed spent in
-vain they stuffed the gap anew. But now when the ship again rolled to
-starboard an old seaman raised his hand and roared, "Every man to his
-place and hold against the sea! Stay! Hold fast your ground!--Come,
-bullies, hold hard!--Good fellows! See, we have won!"
-
-They had perceived his meaning and braced themselves and with their
-hands they had held the stuffing in the gap until the pressure ceased,
-which was more of a feat than a man might think, since despite their
-every effort the sea had found passage in great strong streams, yet
-they held to the last; and when the ship rolled back, Boatswain Marsham
-cried out:--
-
-"Now, Master Carpenter, quick! Bring great nails and hammer and a plank
-or two. Yare, yare!"
-
-"Yea, yea," the carpenter cried, and came running down the deck.
-
-The men held the planking and the carpenter drove home the nails
-and thus they made the plank fast along the timbers behind the gap,
-where it would serve to brace the stuffing. Between the plank and the
-stuffing they forced a great mass of other wadding, and though the ship
-rolled ever so deeply the plank held against the sea. They left it so;
-but all that night, which seemed as long as any night they had ever
-seen, no man slept in the Rose of Devon, for they still feared lest the
-sea should batter away the plank and work their undoing.
-
-All night long they kept the pumps going and all night long they feared
-their labour would be lost. But at four in the morning one of the pumps
-sucked, which gave them vast comfort, and at daybreak they gave thanks
-to God, who had kept them safe until dawn.
-
-The storm had passed and the sky was clear, and Phil and Martin met at
-sunrise.
-
-"Since thou hast haled me out of the sea by the hair of my head," quoth
-Martin, after the manner of one who swallows a grievance he can ill
-stomach, "I must e'en give thee good morrow."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-THE MASTER'S GUEST
-
-
-"A sail! A sail!"
-
-The seas had somewhat abated and the Rose of Devon was standing on her
-course under reefed mainsail when the cry sounded.
-
-The vessel they sighted lay low in the water; and since she had one
-tall mast forward and what appeared to be a lesser mast aft they
-thought her a ketch. But while they debated the matter the faint sound
-of guns fired in distress came over the sea; and loosing the reef of
-their mainsail and standing directly toward the stranger, the men in
-the Rose of Devon soon made her out to be, instead, a ship which had
-lost her mainmast and mizzenmast and was wallowing like a log. While
-the Rose of Devon was still far off, her men saw that some of the
-strange crew were aloft in the rigging and that others were huddled on
-the quarter-deck; and when, in the late afternoon, she came up under
-the stranger's stern, the unknown master and his men got down on their
-knees on the deck and stretched their arms above their bare heads.
-
-"Save us," they cried in a doleful voice, "for the Lord Jesus' sake!
-For our ship hath six-foot water in the hold and we can no longer keep
-her afloat."
-
-In all the Rose of Devon there was not a heart but relented at their
-lamentable cry, not a man but would do his utmost to lend them aid.
-
-"Hoist out thy boat and we will stand by to succour thee," Captain
-Candle called. "We can do no more, for we ha' lost our own boat in the
-storm."
-
-It appeared they had but one boat, which was small, so they must needs
-divide the crew to leave their vessel, part at one time and part at
-another; and the seas still ran so high, though wind and wave had
-moderated, that it seemed impossible they could make the passage. With
-men at both her pumps the Rose of Devon lay by the wind, wallowing and
-plunging, and her own plight seemed a hard one. But the poor stranger,
-though ever and again she rose on the seas so that the water drained
-from her scupper-holes, lay for the most part with her waist a-wash
-and a greater sea than its fellows would rise high on the stumps of
-mainmast and mizzenmast. Her ropes dragged over the side and her
-sails were a snarl of canvas torn to shreds, and a very sad sight she
-presented.
-
-Three times they tried to hoist out their boat and failed; but the
-fourth time they got clear, and with four men rowing and one steering
-and seven with hats and caps heaving out the water, they came in the
-twilight slowly down the wind past the Rose of Devon and up into her
-lee.
-
-The men at the waist of the ship saw more clearly, now, the features
-of those in the boat, and the one in the stern who handled the great
-steering oar had in the eyes of Philip Marsham an oddly familiar look.
-Phil gazed at the man, then he turned to Martin and knew he was not
-mistaken, for Martin's mouth was agape and he was on the very point of
-crying out.
-
-"Holla!" Martin yelled.
-
-The man in the stern of the boat looked up and let his eyes range
-along the waist of the ship. Not one of all those in sight on board
-the Rose of Devon escaped his scrutiny, which was quick and sure;
-but he looked Martin coldly in the face without so much as a nod of
-recognition; and though his brief glance met Phil's gaze squarely and
-seemed for the moment to linger and search the lad's thoughts, it then
-passed to the one at Phil's side.
-
-It was the thin man who had been Martin's companion on the road--it was
-Tom Jordan--it was the Old One.
-
-Martin's face flamed, but he held his tongue.
-
-A line thrown to the boat went out through the air in coils that
-straightened and sagged down between the foremost thwarts. A sailor
-in the boat, seizing the line, hauled upon it with might and main.
-The Old One hotly cursed him, and bellowed, "Fend off, fend off, thou
-slubbering clown! Thy greed to get into the ship will be the means of
-drowning us all."
-
-Some thrust out oars to fend away from the side of the ship and some
-held back; but two or three, hungering for safety, gave him no heed and
-hauled on the rope and struggled to escape out of their little boat,
-which was already half full of water. The Old One then rose with a look
-of the Fiend in his eyes and casting the steering oar at the foremost
-of them, knocked the man over into the sea, where he sank, leaving a
-blotch of red on the surface, which was a terrible sight and brought
-the others to observe the Old One's commands.
-
-Some cried "Save him!" but the Old One roared, "Let the mutinous dog
-go!"
-
-Perhaps he was right, for there are times when it takes death to
-maintain the discipline that will save many lives. At all events it
-was then too late to save either the man or the boat, for although they
-strove thereafter to do as the Old One bade them, the boat had already
-thumped against the side of the ship and it was each man for himself
-and the Devil take the last. The men above threw other ropes and bent
-over to give a hand to the poor fellows below, and all but the man who
-had sunk came scrambling safe on board.
-
-The Old One leaned out and looked down at the boat, which lay full of
-water, with a great hole in her side.
-
-"I would have given my life sooner than let this happen," he said.
-"There are seven men left on board our ship, who trusted me to save
-them. Indeed, I had not come away but these feared lest without the
-master you should refuse to take them. What say ye, my baw-cocks, shall
-we venture back for our shipmates?"
-
-Looking down at the boat and at the gaping holes the sea had stove by
-throwing her against the Rose of Devon, the men made no reply.
-
-"Not one will venture back? Is there no one of ye?"
-
-"'Twere madness," one began. "We should--"
-
-"See! She hath gone adrift!"
-
-And in truth, her gunwales under water, the boat was already drifting
-astern. At the end of the painter, which a Rose of Devon's man still
-held, there dangled a piece of broken board.
-
-"Let us bring thy ship nigh under the lee of mine," the Old One cried
-to Captain Candle. "It may be that by passing a line we can yet save
-them."
-
-"It grieves me sorely to refuse them aid, but to approach nearer, with
-the darkness now drawing upon us, were an act of folly that might well
-cost the lives of us all. Mine own ship is leaking perilously and in
-this sea, were the two to meet, both would most certainly go down."
-
-The Old One looked about and nodded. "True," said he. "There is no
-recovering the boat and darkness is upon us. Let us go as near to
-the ship as we may and bid them have courage till morning, when, God
-willing, we shall try to get aboard and save them."
-
-"That we will. And I myself will con the ship."
-
-Leaning over the rail, Tom Jordan, the Old One, called out, "Holla, my
-hearts! The boat hath gone adrift with her sides stove; but do you make
-a raft and keep abroad a light until morning, when God helping us, we
-will endeavor to get you aboard."
-
-Perceiving for the first time that the boat was gone and there was
-no recovering her, those left on board the wreck gave a cry so sad
-that it pierced the hearts of all in the Rose of Devon, whose men saw
-them through the dusk doing what they could to save themselves; and
-presently their light appeared.
-
-Working the Rose of Devon to windward of the wreck, Captain Candle lay
-by, but all his endeavours could not avail to help them, for about ten
-o'clock at night, three hours after the Old One and his ten men had got
-on board the Rose of Devon, their ship sank and their light went out
-and seven men lost their lives.
-
-The Old One, standing beside Captain Candle, had watched the light to
-the last. "It is a bitter grief to bear," he said, "for they were seven
-brave men. A master could desire no better mariners. 'Tis the end of
-the Blue Friggat from Virginia, bound for Portsmouth, wanting seven
-weeks."
-
-"A man can go many years to sea without meeting such a storm."
-
-"Yea! Three days ago when the wind was increasing all night we kept
-only our two courses abroad. At daybreak we handed our main course,
-but before we had secured it the storm burst upon us so violently that
-I ordered the foreyard lowered away; but not with all their strength
-could the men get it down, and of them all not one had a knife to cut
-away the sail, for they wore only their drawers without pockets; so the
-gale drove us head into the sea and stopped our way and a mighty sea
-pooped us and filled us and we lay with only our masts and forecastle
-out of the water. I myself, being fastened to the mizzenmast with a
-rope, had only my head out of water. Yea, we expected to go straight
-down to the bottom, but God of his infinite goodness was pleased to
-draw us from the deep and another sea lifted up our ship. We got down
-our foresail and stowed it and bored holes between the decks to let
-the water into the hold and by dint of much pumping we kept her afloat
-until now. In all we have lost eight lives this day and a sad day it
-is."
-
-"From Virginia, wanting seven weeks," Captain Candle mused.
-
-Captain Jordan stole a swift glance at him but saw no suspicion in his
-face.
-
-"Yea, from Virginia."
-
-"You shall share mine own cabin but I fear you have come only from one
-wreck to another."
-
-The two captains sat late that night at the table in the great cabin,
-one on each side, and ate and drank. There was fine linen on the table,
-and bread of wheat flour with butter less than two weeks from the
-dairy, and a fine old cheese, and a mutton stew, and canary and sack
-and aqua vitæ. At midnight they were still lingering over the suckets
-and almonds and comfits that the boy had set before them; and the boy,
-nodding in uncontrollable drowsiness as he stood behind his master's
-chair, strove to keep awake.
-
-The murmuring voices of the men at the helm came faintly through the
-bulkhead, and up from below the deck came the creak of whipstaff and
-tiller. The moon, shining through the cabin window, added its wan light
-to the yellow radiance from the swinging lanthorns, and stars were to
-be seen. So completely had wind and weather changed in a night and a
-day that, save for the long rolling swell, the great gap where waist
-and boat and capstan had gone, the hole stuffed with blankets and
-rugs and hammocks, the stump of a mizzenmast, and the rescued men on
-board--save for these, a man might have forgotten storms and wrecks.
-
-"You are well found," said Captain Thomas Jordan, tilting his glass
-and watching the wine roll toward the brim; "yea, and we are in good
-fortune." His thin face, as he lifted his brows and slightly smiled at
-his host, settled into the furrowed wrinkles that had won him the name
-of the Old One.
-
-"We can give such entertainment as is set before you," his host drily
-replied. Francis Candle was too shrewd a man to miss his guest's
-searching appraisal of the cabin and its furnishings. In his heart he
-already distrusted the fellow.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND MORNING
-
-
-Through the main deck to the gun-room and up into the forecastle there
-drifted smoke from the cookroom in the hold, which was the way of those
-old ships. At times it set choking the men at the pumps; it eddied
-about the water cask before the mainmast and about the riding butts by
-the heel of the bowsprit, and went curling out of the hawse pipes. It
-crept insidiously into the forecastle, and the men cursed fluently when
-their eyes began to smart and their noses to sting.
-
-There were seven men in the forecastle and Martin Barwick was one of
-the seven, although his watch was on deck and he had no right to be
-there. Philip Marsham, whose watch was below, had stayed because he
-suspected there was some strange thing in the wind and was determined
-to learn if possible what it was. Two of the others were younkers of
-the Rose of Devon, who suspected nothing, and the remaining three were
-of the rescued men.
-
-There was a step above and a round head appeared in the hatch. The dim
-smoky light gave a strange appearance to the familiar features.
-
-"Ho, cook!" Martin cried, and thumped on the table. "Come thou down
-and bring us what tidings the boy hath brought thee in the cookroom.
-Yea, though the cook labour in the very bowels of the ship, is it not a
-proverb that he alone knows all that goes on?"
-
-Slipping through the hatch, the cook drew a great breath and sat him
-down by the table. "She was the Blue Friggat, I hear, and seven weeks
-from Virginia--God rest the souls of them who went down in her!"
-
-"From Virginia!" quoth Martin. "Either th' art gulled, in truth, or th'
-art the very prince of liars. From Virginia! Ho ho!" And Martin laughed
-loud and long.
-
-Now it was for such a moment that Philip Marsham was waiting, nor had
-he doubted the moment would come. For although Martin had gone apart
-with the men who had come from the foundered ship, the fellow's head,
-which was larger than most heads, could never keep three ideas in
-flourish at the same time. To learn what game was in the wind there was
-need only to keep close at Martin's heels until his blunders should
-disclose his secrets.
-
-"The Devil take thee, thou alehouse dog!" the cook cried in a thick,
-wheezy voice. "Did not the boy bring me word straight when he came down
-for a can of boiling water with which this Captain Jordan would prepare
-a wondrous drink for Captain Candle?"
-
-"And did not I part with this Captain Jordan not--Wow-ouch!" With a
-yell Martin tipped back in his chair and went over. Crawling on his
-feet, he put on a long face and rubbed his head and hurled a flood of
-oaths at the sailor beside him, a small man and round like an apple,
-who went among his fellows--for he was one of those the Rose of Devon
-had rescued--by the name of Harry Malcolm.
-
-"Nay," the little round man very quietly replied, "I fear you not, for
-all your bluster. Put your hand on your tongue, fellow, and see if
-you cannot hold it. I had not intended to tip you over. It was done
-casually."
-
-"And why, perdy, did'st thou jam thy foot on mine till the bones
-crunched? I'll have thy heart's blood."
-
-"Nay," the man replied, so quietly, so calmly that he might have been
-a clerk sitting on his stool, "you have a way of talking overmuch,
-fellow, and I have a misliking of speech that babbles like a brook. It
-can make trouble."
-
-Martin stopped as if he had lost his voice, but continued to glare at
-the stranger, who still regarded him with no concern.
-
-"It is thy weakness, fellow," he said, "and--" he looked very hard at
-Martin--"it may yet be the occasion of thine untimely end."
-
-For a moment Martin stood still, then, swallowing once or twice, he
-went out of the dimly lighted forecastle into the darkness of the deck.
-
-"He appears," the little man said, addressing the others, "to be an
-excitable fellow. Alas, what trouble a brisk tongue can bring upon a
-man!"
-
-The little man, Harry Malcolm, looked from one to another and longest
-at Phil.
-
-Now Phil could not say there had been a hidden meaning in the hard look
-the little man had given Martin or in the long look the little man had
-given Phil himself. But he knew that whether this was so or not, there
-was no more to be got that night from Martin, and he in turn, further
-bepuzzled by the little man's words and after all not much enlightened
-by Martin's blunder, left the forecastle to seek the main deck.
-
-Passing the great cannon lashed in their places, and leaving behind him
-the high forecastle, he came into the shadow of the towering poop on
-which the lantern glowed yellow in the blue moonlight, and continued
-aft to the hatch ladder. Already it was long past midnight.
-
-He imagined he heard voices in the great cabin, and although he well
-enough knew that it was probably only imagination,--for the cabin door
-was closed fast,--the presence of the Old One on board the Rose of
-Devon was enough to make a man imagine things, who had sat in Mother
-Taylor's cottage and listened to talk of the gentlemen who sailed from
-Bideford. He paused at the head of the ladder and listened, but heard
-nothing more.
-
-An hour passed. There were fewer sounds to break the silence. There is
-no time like the very early morning for subtle and mysterious deeds.
-
-Boatswain Marsham was asleep below and Captain Candle was asleep aft,
-when Captain Jordan arose and stretched himself, and in a voice that
-would have been audible to Captain Candle if he had been awake but that
-was so low it did not disturb his sleep, vowed he must breathe fresh
-air ere he could bury his head in a blanket for the night.
-
-Emerging from the great cabin, Captain Jordan climbed first to the
-poop, whence he looked down on the brave old ship and the wide space of
-sky and darkly heaving sea within the circle of the horizon. To look
-thus at the sea is enough to make a philosopher of a thinking man, and
-this Captain Thomas Jordan was by no means devoid of thought.
-
-But whereas many a one who stands under the bright stars in the small
-morning hours feels himself a brother with the most trifling creatures
-that live and is filled with humility to consider in relation to the
-immeasurable powers of the universe his weakness during even his brief
-space of life--whereas such a one perceives himself to be, like the
-prophets of ancient times, in a Divine Presence, the Old One, his
-face strangely youthful in its repose, threw back his head and softly
-laughed, as if there high on the poop he were a god of the heathen, who
-could blot out with his thumb the ship and all the souls that sailed
-in her. His face had again a haunting likeness to the devils in the
-old wood-cuts; and indeed there is something of the devil in the very
-egotism of a man who can thus assert his vain notions at such an hour.
-
-Presently descending from the poop and with a nod passing on the
-quarter-deck the officer of the watch, he paced for a time the
-maintop-deck. He pretended to absorb himself in the sea and the damage
-the storm had done to the waist; but he missed nothing that happened
-and he observed the whereabouts of every man in the watch.
-
-Edging slowly forward, he stood at last beside a big man who was
-leaning in the shadow of the forecastle.
-
-"We meet sooner than you thought," he said in a low voice.
-
-"Yea, for we were long on the road and entangled ourselves wonderfully
-among those byways and high-ways which cross the country in a manner
-perplexing beyond belief."
-
-"Saw you your brother?"
-
-"In all truth I saw him--and the Devil take him!"
-
-The Old One laughed softly.
-
-"It is plain thy brother hath little love for a shipwrecked mariner,"
-quoth he, "yet there is a most memorable antiquity about the use of
-ships, and even greater gluttons than thy brother have supped light
-that worthy seamen might not go hungry to bed. We will speak of him
-another time. What think you of this pretty pup we have met by the
-way?--Ah, thine eye darkens! Methinks thou hast more than once felt the
-rough side of his tongue."
-
-"He bears himself somewhat struttingly--" Martin hesitated, but added
-perforce, since he had received a friendly turn he could not soon
-forget, "yet he hath his good points."
-
-"He was one too many for thee! Nay, confess it!"
-
-"Th' art a filthy rascal!" Martin's face burned with anger.
-
-"I knew he would be too cunning for thy wool-gathering wits. Truly I
-believe he is a lad after my own heart. I have marked him well."
-
-"But hast thou plumbed his inclination with thy sounding lead?"
-
-"Why, no. At worst, he can disappear. It has happened to taller men
-than he, and in a land where there are men at arms to come asking
-questions."
-
-"Hgh!"
-
-"This for thy whining, though: we shall play upon him lightly. Some are
-not worth troubling over, but this lad is a cunning rogue and hath book
-learning."
-
-"Came you in search of this ship?"
-
-"It was chance alone that brought us across her course. Chance alone,
-Martin, that brought your old captain back to you."
-
-Watching Martin, as he spoke, the Old One again laughed softly.
-
-"Yea, Martin, it touches the heart of your old captain to see with what
-pleasure you receive him."
-
-"Th' art a cunning devil," Martin muttered, and babbled oaths and
-curses.
-
-"We must sleep, Martin--sleep and eat, for we are spent with much
-labour and many hardships, and it is well for them to sail our ship for
-us a while longer. But the hour will come, and do you then stand by."
-
-The Old One went aft. The ship rolled drowsily and the watch nodded.
-Surveying her aloft and alow, as a man does who is used to command, and
-not as a guest on board might do, the Old One left the deck.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-HEAD WINDS AND A ROUGH SEA
-
-
-"Lacking the mizzen she labours by the wind, which hath veered sadly
-during the night," quoth Captain Jordan in a sleepy voice, as with his
-host he came upon deck betimes.
-
-"I like it little," the master replied.
-
-"It would be well to lay a new course and sail on a new voyage. There
-is small gain to be got from these fisheries. A southern voyage, now,
-promises returns worth the labour."
-
-To this Captain Candle made no reply. He studied the sore damage done
-to the ship, upon which already the carpenter was at work.
-
-"With a breadth of canvas and hoops to batten the edges fast, and
-over all a coating of tar, a man might make her as tight and dry as
-you please," said the Old One. He smiled when he spoke and his manner
-galled his host.
-
-"It was in my own mind," Captain Candle replied, with an angry lift
-of his head. There are few things more grievously harassing than the
-importunity and easy assurance of a guest of whom there is no riddance.
-It puts a man where he is peculiarly helpless to defend himself, and
-already Captain Candle's patience had ebbed far. "Bid the boatswain
-overhaul his canvas, mate, and the carpenter prepare such material as
-be needful. Aye, and bid the 'liar' stand ready to go over the side.
-'Twill cool his hot pride, of which it seems he hath full measure."
-
-"Yea, yea!"
-
-As the master paced the deck, back and forth and back and forth,
-the Old One walked at his side--for he was a shrewd schemer and had
-calculated his part well--until the master's gorge rose. "I must return
-to the cabin," he said at last, "and overhaul my journal."
-
-"I will bear you company."
-
-"No, no!"
-
-The Old One smiled as if in deprecation; but as the master turned away,
-the smile broadened to a grin.
-
-Boatswain Marsham and the one-eyed carpenter who wore a beard like
-a goat's were on their way to the forehold. The cook and his mate
-were far down in the cookroom. Ten men in the watch below were sound
-asleep--but Martin Barwick, the eleventh man in the watch, was on deck,
-_and of the eleven rescued men not one was below_. With Captain Candle
-safe in his cabin and busied over his journal, there were left from the
-company of the Rose of Devon eight men and the mate, and one man of the
-eight was at the helm. These the Old One counted as he took a turn on
-the quarter-deck.
-
-The Old One and his men were refreshed by a night of sleep and restored
-by good food. To all appearances, without care or thought to trouble
-them, they ruffled about the deck. One was standing just behind the
-mate; two were straying toward the steerage.
-
-"Thy boatswain is a brave lad," the Old One said to the mate, and
-stepping in front of him, he spread his legs and folded his arms.
-
-The mate nodded. He had less liking for their guest, if it were
-possible, than the captain.
-
-"A brave lad," the Old One repeated. "I can use him."
-
-"You?"
-
-"Yea, I."
-
-The mate drew back a step, as a man does when another puts his face too
-near. He was on the point of speaking; but before his lips had phrased
-a word the Old One raised his hand and the man behind the mate drove
-six inches of blue steel into the mate's back, between his ribs and
-through his heart.
-
-He died in the Old One's arms, for the Old One caught him before he
-fell, and held him thus.
-
-"Well done," the Old One said to his man.
-
-"Not so well as one could wish," the man replied, wiping his knife on
-the mate's coat. "He perished quietly enough, but the knife bit into a
-rib and the feeling of a sharp knife dragging upon bone sets my teeth
-on edge."
-
-The Old One laughed. "Thy stomach is exceeding queasy," he said. "Come,
-let us heave him over the side."
-
-All this, remember, had happened quickly and very quietly. There were
-the three men standing by the quarter-deck ladder--the Old One and his
-man and the mate--and by all appearances the Old One merely put out
-his hands in a friendly manner to the other, for the knife thrust was
-hidden by a cloak. But now the mate's head fell forward in a queer,
-lackadaisical way and four of the Old One's men, perceiving what they
-looked for, slipped past him through the door to the steerage room,
-where they clapped down the hatch to the main deck. One stood on the
-hatch; two stood by the door of the great cabin; and the fourth,
-stepping up to the man at the helm, flashed a knife from his sleeve
-and cut the fellow down.
-
-It was a deft blow, but not so sure as the thrust that had killed the
-mate. The helmsman dropped the whipstaff and, falling, gave forth a
-yell and struck at his assailant, who again let drive at him with the
-knife and finished the work, so that the fellow lay with bloody froth
-at his lips and with fingers that twitched a little and then were still.
-
-The man who had killed him took the whipstaff and called softly,
-"Holla, master! We hold the helm!" then from his place he heard a
-sailor cry out, "The mate is falling! Lend him aid!"
-
-Then the Old One's voice, rising to a yell, called, "Stand back! Stand
-off! Now, my hearts!"
-
-There came a quick tempest of voices, a shrill cry, the pounding of
-many feet, then a splash, then a cry wilder and more shrill than any
-before, "Nay, I yield--quarter! Quarter, I say! Mercy! God's mercy, I
-beg of you! Help--O God!"
-
-There was at the same time a rumble of hoarse voices and a sound of
-great struggling, then a shriek and a second splash.
-
-The man at the helm kicked the dead helmsman to one side and listened.
-In the great cabin, behind the bulkhead at his back, he heard a sudden
-stir. As between the mainmast and the forecastle the yells rose louder,
-the great cabin door burst open and out rushed Captain Francis Candle
-in a rich waist with broad cuffs at his wrists, his hair new oiled
-with jessamine butter, and gallant bows at his knees, for he was a
-fine gentleman who had first gone to sea as a lieutenant in the King's
-service. As he rushed out the door the man lying in wait on the left
-struck a fierce blow to stab him, but the knife point broke on a steel
-plate which it seemed Captain Candle wore concealed to foil just such
-dastardly work.
-
-Thereupon, turning like a flash, Captain Candle spitted the scoundrel
-with his sword. But the man lying in wait on the right of the door saw
-his fellow's blow fail and perceived the reason, and leaping on the
-captain from behind, he seized his oiled hair with one hand and hauled
-back his head, and reaching forward with the other hand, drove a knife
-into the captain's bare throat.
-
-Dark blood from a severed vein streamed out over Captain Candle's
-collar and his gay waist. He coughed and his eyes grew dull. He let go
-his sword, which remained stuck through the body of the man who had
-first struck at him, clapped his hand to his neck, and went down in a
-heap.
-
-The yells on deck had ceased and the man who had killed Francis Candle,
-after glancing into the great cabin where the captain's cloak lay
-spread over the chair from which he rose to step out of his door and
-die,--where the captain's pen lay across the pages of the open journal
-and a bottle of the captain's wine, which he had that morning shared
-with his guest, Captain Thomas Jordan, stood beside the unstoppered
-bottle of ink,--walked forth upon the deck and nodded to the Old One,
-who stood with his hand on the after swivel gun.
-
-There were a few splotches of blood on the deck and three men of the
-Rose of Devon's crew lay huddled in a heap; there were left standing
-three other men of the Rose of Devon, and sick enough they looked;
-Martin Barwick was stationed by the ladder to the forecastle, where
-he stood like a pigeon cock with his head haughtily in the air and his
-chest thrust out; and the little round apple of a man, Harry Malcolm,
-who had broken in upon Martin the night before, bearing now a new
-and bloody gash across his forehead, was prowling among the guns and
-tapping the breech rings with a knowing air.
-
-The Old One from the quarter-deck looked down at the new comer.
-
-"Rab took the steel," the fellow said.
-
-"Rab!" the Old One cried. "Not Rab, you say?"
-
-"Yea, he struck first but the master wore an iron shirt which turned
-the point and he was then at him with his sword."
-
-"We have lost nine good men by this devil-begotten storm, but of them
-all Rab is the one I am most loath to see go to the sharks." The Old
-One paced the deck a while and the others talked in undertones. "Yea,
-Martin," he called at last, "nine good men. But we have got us a ship
-and I have great hopes of our boatswain, who may yet make us two of
-Rab. At all events, my bullies, we must lay us a new course, for I have
-no liking of these northern fisheries. Hark! They are pounding on the
-hatch."
-
-The sound of knocking and a muffled calling came from the main hatch,
-whereat the men on deck looked at one another and some of them smiled.
-
-"It were well--" the little round man began. He glanced at the huddled
-bodies and shrugged.
-
-"True, true!" the Old One replied, for he needed no words to complete
-the meaning. "You men of the Rose of Devon, heave them into the sea."
-
-The three looked at one another and hesitated, and the youngest of the
-three turned away his face and put his hand on his belly, and sick
-enough he looked, at which a great laugh went up.
-
-"Go, Harry," the Old One cried to the little round man, "and tell them
-at the hatch to be still, for that we shall presently have them on
-deck. We must learn our brave recruits a lesson."
-
-Again a roar of laughter rose, and as the little man went in to
-the hatch, the others drew about the three who cowered against the
-forecastle ladder, as well they might.
-
-"Come, silly dogs," said the Old One, "in faith, you must earn your
-foolish lives. Lay hands on those carcasses and heave them to the
-fishes."
-
-They looked into the faces of the men about them, but got small comfort
-as they edged toward their unwelcome task.
-
-"It is hard to use thus a shipmate of three voyages," the oldest of
-them muttered.
-
-"True," replied the Old One, "but so shall you buy your way into a
-goodlier company of shipmates, who traffic in richer cargoes than
-pickled codfish and New England herrings."
-
-The three picked up the bodies, one at a time, each with its arms and
-legs dragging, and carried them to the waist and pushed them over. But
-the youngest of the three was trembling like a dead weed in November
-when they had finished, and the Old One chuckled to see the fellow's
-white face.
-
-"Have courage, bawcock," the Old One cried; "there shall soon be
-a round of aqua vitæ to warm thy shaking limbs and send the blood
-coursing through thy veins. Now, Mate Harry, lift off the hatch and
-summon our good boatswain and carpenter."
-
-"As you please, as you please," came the quick, gentle voice of the
-little round man. "But there are two of 'em left still--Rab and the
-captain--and there's a deal of blood hereabouts."
-
-They heard the hatch creak as the little man pried it off. They heard
-his quick sentences pattering out one after another: "Hasten out on
-deck--nay, linger not. The master would have speech of thee. Nay,
-linger not. Ask me no questions! There's no time for lingering."
-
-Then out burst Phil Marsham with the older carpenter puffing at his
-heels.
-
-"What's afoot?" cried Phil. "Where's the master?--what--where--"
-
-So speedily had they hurried from the hatch (and so cleverly had the
-little round man interposed himself between the hatch and the two
-bodies at the cabin door) that in the dim light of the steerage room
-the two had perceived nothing amiss. But now, looking about for the
-source of the fierce cries and yells they had heard, they saw red
-stains on the deck, and men with scared white faces.
-
-All looked toward the Old One as if awaiting his reply; and when
-Phil Marsham, too, looked toward him, he met such another quizzing,
-searching, understanding gaze as he had long ago met when he had taken
-the words from Martin's lips on the little hill beside the road.
-
-"Why, I am master now, good boatswain."
-
-"But Captain Candle--"
-
-"His flame is out."
-
-The lad glanced about him at the circle of hard old sea dogs--for they
-were all of them that, were their years few or many--and drew away till
-he stood with the waist at his back. Laying hands on his dirk, he said
-in a voice that slightly trembled, "And now?"
-
-"Why," quoth the Old One, "you have sat in Mother Taylor's kitchen and
-heard talk of the gentlemen. You know too many secrets. Unless you are
-one of us--" He finished with a shrug.
-
-"You ask me, then, to join you?"
-
-"Yea."
-
-"I refuse." He looked the Old One in the eye.
-
-"Why, then," said the Old One, "you are the greater fool."
-
-The circle drew closer.
-
-"What then?"
-
-"'Tis but another candle to be snuffed."
-
-With hand on dirk and with back against the waist, the boatswain looked
-one and another and then another in the eye. "Why, then," said he, "I
-must even join you, as you say. But I call upon you all to witness I am
-a forced man." And he looked longest and hardest at the three men from
-the old crew of the Rose of Devon.
-
-The Old One looked back at the lad and there was, for the first time,
-doubt in his glance. He stood for a while pondering in silence all that
-had taken place and studying the face of his boatswain; but his liking
-of the lad's spirit outweighed his doubts, for such bold independence,
-whether in friend or foe, was the one sure key to Tom Jordan's heart.
-"So be it," he said at last. "But remember, my fine young fellow, that
-many a cockerel hath got his neck wrung by crowing out of season." He
-turned to the carpenter. "And what say you? We can use a man of your
-craft."
-
-"I am thy man!" the fellow cried. The stains on the deck had made him
-surpassingly eager, and his one eye winked and his beard wagged, so
-eager was he to declare his allegiance.
-
-"Well said!" the Old One responded. "And now, Master Harry, have them
-up from below--the sleepers, and the cook and his mate, and all! We
-have taken a fine ship--a fine ship she will be, at all events, once
-our good carpenter has done his work--and well found. We needs must
-sign a crew to sail and fight her."
-
-They heard the little round man calling down the hatch and at a great
-distance in the ship they heard the voices of men grumbling at being
-summoned out of sleep. But the grumbling was stilled when one by one
-the men came out on deck; and of them all, not a man refused to cast
-his lot with the Old One and the rest. The mere sight of a little blood
-and of the hard faces that greeted them was enough for most. And two or
-three, of whom Will Canty was one, must fain perceive how futile would
-be present resistance. Indeed, in the years since the old Queen had
-died, and the navy had gone to the dogs, and merchantmen had come to
-sail from the Downs knowing they were likely enough to meet a squadron
-of galleys lying in wait fifty leagues off the Lizard, many a sailor
-had taken his fling at buccaneering; and those that had not, had heard
-such great tales of galleons laden with treasures of the Indies and
-with beautiful dames of Spain that their palates were whetted for a
-taste of the life.
-
-The cook smiled broadly and clapped the boy on the back and cried out
-that as a little lad he had sailed with John Jennings what time John
-Jennings's wench had turned his luck, and that having begun life in
-such brave company, he would gladly end it in a proper voyage if it
-was written that his time was near. They all laughed to see the boy
-turn white and tremble, and they huzzaed the cook for his gallant
-words. But Will Canty met Phil's eyes and there passed between them a
-look that made the Old One frown, for he was a man who saw everything.
-
-The Rose of Devon, although close-hauled by the wind, rolled heavily,
-which was the way of those old tall ships; but the adverse winds and
-high seas she had encountered were of fancy as well as of fact. The sun
-was shining brightly and sky and sea were a clear blue; but despite
-sun and sky and sea no weatherwise man could have believed the dark
-days of the Rose of Devon were at an end. Like so many iron bars the
-shadows of the ropes fell blue on the sails, and the red blotches on
-the deck matched the dull red paint of the stanchions and the waist.
-The carpenter, who had come up with his plane in his hand, fingered the
-steel blade. The boy turned his back on the bloody deck and looked away
-at the sea, for he was a little fellow and not hardened by experience
-of the world.
-
-"Come, my hearts," cried the Old One, and gaily enough he spoke.
-"We are banded together for the good of all. There is no company of
-merchants to profit by our labour and our blood. God hath placed in
-our keeping this brave ship, which will be staunch and sea-worthy
-when our carpenter hath done his work. Harry Malcolm is our mate
-and master gunner as of old, and Phil Marsham shall continue as our
-boatswain--nay, grumble not! He came with Martin Barwick and he hath
-sat in Mother Taylor's kitchen, where may we all sit soon and raise our
-cans and drink thanks for a rich voyage. There is work to be done, for
-all must be made clean and tight--yea, and Rab is to be buried."
-
-The little round man was still wandering from gun to gun and smiling
-because the guns pleased him. They were demiculverins of brass, bored
-for a twelve-pound ball and fit to fight the King's battles; but alas!
-they had shown themselves powerless against a foe from within the ship.
-And as the Rose of Devon rolled along in the bright sun, alone in a
-blue sea, the body of Francis Candle lay forgotten in the steerage
-room.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-THE PORCUPINE KETCH
-
-
-Looking down from the quarter-deck the Old One spied the cook, who had
-come up to warm his bald head and fat face in the sun and to clear the
-smoke from his nostrils. "Ho, cook," quoth he, "I have a task for thee.
-Break out from the cabin stores rice and currants and cinnamon and the
-finest of thy wheaten flour. Seek you also a few races of green ginger.
-It may chance there is even a little marchpane, for this man Candle had
-a gentle palate. Spare not your old cheese, and if you unearth a cask
-of fine wine fail not to tell of it. In a word, draw forth an abundance
-of the best and make us such a feast as a man may remember in his old
-age."
-
-The cook smiled and rubbed his round paunch (yet cringed a little), for
-he was of a mind, being never slow in such matters, to filch from the
-cabin table whatever he might desire and his heart warmed to hear the
-good victuals named. "Yea, master," he cried, "for thee and for Mate
-Malcolm?"
-
-"Nay, thou parsimonious dog! Think you that such are the manners of
-gentlemen mariners? Times have changed. Though I be master, there is no
-salt at my board. One man is as good as another and any man may rub his
-shoulder with mine."
-
-The Old One's own men chuckled at the cook's blank face and the boy
-shivered when he thought that he must wait on them all, of whom one was
-as likely as another to fetch him a blow on the head. But the cook
-went down below and they heard him bawling to his mate to come and help
-break out the cabin stores, and word went through the ship of what
-was afoot. And though Will Canty and the boatswain, meeting, glanced
-dubiously each at the other, as did others of the Rose of Devon's old
-company,--for matters are in a sad way in a ship when the master feasts
-the men,--all the foolish fellows were clapping one another on the back
-and crying that here was a proper captain, and there was none quite so
-mad as to dispute them in so many words.
-
-The smoke grew thick between the decks, and after a while there rose
-the smell of baking and roasting, and the foolish ones patted their
-bellies and smacked their lips. They whispered about that the boy was
-spreading with a linen cloth the table in the great cabin and that the
-cook's mate was staggering under weight of rich food; and when the cook
-called for men to hoist out a cask of such nectar as poor sailors know
-not the like of, a great cheer went up and there were more hands to
-haul than there was room on the rope.
-
-The Old One, leaning on the poop, smiled and Harry Malcolm, coming to
-join him, smiled too; for they knew well the hearts of sailormen and
-did nothing without a purpose.
-
-So the table was laid and the feast was spread and in came the men.
-Only one remained at the helm, for the wind was light, which made
-light his task; six remained on deck to watch and stand by, with Harry
-Malcolm curled against the light gun on the quarter-deck to command
-them; and the cook and his mate, resting from their labours far down in
-the hold, gorged themselves on good food and drank themselves drunk
-on nappy liquor from a cask they had cannily marked for their own
-among the cabin stores. Of the rest, all that could find room crowded
-into the great cabin, and all that could find no room in the cabin
-squatted on the deck outside the door on the very spot where Francis
-Candle had fallen dead. They sat with their backs against bulkheads and
-stanchions, where they, too, could join in the feast and the council;
-and the boy, when all were fed, gathered meat from under the table like
-old King Adoni-bezek of unhappy memory.
-
-It was a sight to remember, for very merry they were and save as they
-were rough, hard-featured men, a man would never have dreamed they bore
-blood on their hands and murder on their hearts. The Old One sat at the
-head of the table and took care that neither food nor wine was stinted.
-The carpenter, his one eye twinkling with pleasure and his beard
-waggling in his haste lest another should get ahead of him at trencher
-work, sat on the Old One's right, which was accorded him as a mark of
-honour since he had accomplished marvels in restoring the planking the
-storm had torn asunder. A stout seaman of the rescued men, Paul Craig
-by name--it was he who had needed two blows to kill the helmsman--sat
-at the Old One's left and squared his big shoulders over his meat and
-ate like a hog till he could hold no more, for he was an ox of great
-girth and short temper and little wit, who ate by custom more than did
-him good. Another of gaunt frame, Joseph Kirk by name, sat smiling at a
-man here and a man there and tippled till his head wagged; and off in
-a corner there sat a keen little man with a hooked nose, who was older
-than most of those in the cabin yet had scarcely a wrinkle to mar the
-smoothness of his shaven face save above and behind his eyes, where a
-few deep lines gave him the wild look of a hawk.
-
-When he spoke, which was seldom, thick gutturals confused his words,
-and always he sat in corners. Does not a man looking out of a corner,
-with a wall on two sides of him and no one behind him, see more than
-another? His Christian name was Jacob and most of them knew him by no
-other; but mocking him they called it "Yacob." Further than that, which
-he took with a wry smile, they refrained from mocking him, for though
-he spoke little, his silence said much.
-
-The Old One rose and very sober he was as he held high a brimming can,
-and so steady was his hand that not a drop spilled. For a space he
-paused and looked around at the rough company seated at the long table
-and crouching in the mellow shadows beyond the door, then, "To the
-King!" he cried.
-
-Those not knowing him well, who stared in perplexity at such a toast
-in such a place and time, saw his eyes twinkle and perceived he was
-looking at old Jacob in the corner. Then old Jacob, smiling as at a
-familiar jest, rose in turn and raised his can likewise, and pausing to
-look about him, cried back at the Old One in his thick foreign voice,
-"The King and his ships--be damned!"
-
-A yell of laughter and derision shook the cabin. The one-eyed carpenter
-leaped up first, then such of the rescued men as were not too drunk to
-stand, then here and there men of the Rose of Devon's company, some
-eagerly in all earnestness, others having a mind to keep their throats
-in one piece, for they perceived that like enough the unholy toast was
-but to try their allegiance.
-
-The Old One's eyes leaped from man to man and his cold voice cut
-through the noisy riot of drunken mirth. "I had said Will Canty was a
-man of spirit, but his can hugs the table when these tall fellows are
-drinking confusion to the King."
-
-"A hand-napper, a hand-napper! Have him away, my hearts, to the Halifax
-engine," Joe Kirk bawled with a drunken leer.
-
-"Why," said Will Canty, and his face was white, but with a red spot on
-either cheek, "my can, since you say what you say, was dry; and for the
-matter of that, I am no prating Puritan who wishes ill to the King."
-
-Over the rumble of voices the Old One's voice rose loudest: "See you,
-then, religious cobblers or preaching button-makers among us?"
-
-"And there are others yet besides prating Puritans, mine friend, that
-drink our toast!" cried Jacob.
-
-The Old One then smiled, for he was no man to drive a nail with a
-two-hand sledge. But although he changed his manner as fast and often
-as light flickers on running water, under the surface there flowed a
-strong, even current of liking or ill will, as sooner or later all men
-that had dealings with him must learn, some to their wonder and some to
-their sorrow. "Enough, enough!" said he. "Will's a good lad and he'll
-serve us well when there's powder smoke to snuff. Be you not offended,
-Will. In all faith our ship is a king's ship and more, for are we not
-thirty kings, to fight our own battles and heave out our own flag
-before the world and take such treasures as will buy us, each and all,
-a king's palace and all the wives a king could wish? Nay, God helping
-us, my hearts, we shall carry home to good Mother Taylor riches that
-will serve for a sponge to wipe the chalk from every black post in
-Cornwall and in Devon, and Will Canty shall drink with us there."
-
-There rose a thunder of fists beating the board and a rumble of
-"Yea's," and the Old One made no end of smiling, but there were some
-whom his smile failed to deceive.
-
-"Come, boy, with thy pitcher of sack! Pour sack for all!" he cried.
-"Come, ply thy task and let no man go wanting. Fill you Will Canty's
-pot." He gulped down a mighty draught and wiped his moustaches with
-thumb and forefinger. "And now, brave lads, let us have our heads
-together: though we lie but a hundred leagues off these banks of
-Newfoundland, what say you? Shall we turn our backs on them and take a
-fling at a braver trade? Or shall we taste of fat lobsters and great
-cod, and perchance pluck the feathers from some of these New England
-towns concerning which there hath lately been such a buzz of talk
-in old England--at Cape Ann, let us say at venture, or Naumkeag, or
-Plymouth Colony?"
-
-"Yea, yea! I am for Cape Ann," cried Joe Kirk, and his head rolled
-drunkenly above his great shoulders as he bolstered his opinion with
-curses. "Did not my brother go thither, years and years agone, for the
-company of Dorchester merchants? Yea, and told rare tales of succulent
-great fish, which are a marvelous diet."
-
-"Nay, thy brother was as great a sot as thou," a voice put in, and Joe
-rose in anger, but a general clamour drowned his retort and he lapsed
-back into a sodden lethargy.
-
-"As for me," bellowed Martin with bluster and bravado, "I say go we
-to Plymouth and rap the horns of these schismatic Puritans. Tell me
-not but that they've mines of rich gold hid away. Did'st ever see a
-Roundhead knave would brave the wild lions of America unless he thought
-there was gold in't?"
-
-"Thou thyself art fool as well as knave," quoth the Old One. "Did'st
-thou not once cry the whole ship's company out of sleep to see a
-mermaid that would entice thee to thy peril? And when sober men had
-come on deck there was nought there but a seal-fish at play. Lions
-forsooth! In Africa even I have heard a lion roar, but not in America.
-Much searching of tracts hath stuffed thy head."
-
-The drunken Joe roused sleepily up. "My brother saw a lion at Cape Ann
-plantation. My brother--" He drew a knife and wildly flourished it, but
-fell back in a stupor before the laughter died.
-
-Martin's bluster, as was its way when a man boldly confronted it, broke
-like a pricked bubble, but his sullen glare caught the Old One's eye.
-
-Leaning over the table, the Old One said in a low, taunting voice, "And
-did you never see a man dance on air? Ah, there's a sight to catch the
-breath in your throat and make an emptiness in a man's belly!"
-
-As often happens when there has been a great noise and a man speaks in
-a low voice, there was a quick lull and the words came out as clear as
-the ringing of a half crown. Phil Marsham, looking across the table
-into the Old One's cold blue eyes, which were fixed on Martin, saw in
-them a flicker of calculating amusement; then he saw that Martin was
-swallowing as if he had a fishbone in his throat.
-
-In truth Martin wore the sickly smile that a man affects when he is
-cornered and wishes to appear braver than he is. He tried to speak but
-succeeded only in running his tongue over his lips, which needed it if
-they were as dry as they were blue.
-
-"Come, come, we get no place!"
-
-"Yacob! Yacob!" they cried at the sound of his voice, "Up on thy feet,
-Yacob!"
-
-He rose and stood in his corner. His long hair was brushed back from
-a forehead so high that it reached to a great lump on the crown of
-his head. His brows were knit with intense earnestness. His big nose
-and curled lips and small chin were set in what might have seemed in
-another place and another time scholarly intentness. They did him
-honour by waiting in silence for his words.
-
-"This bickering and jangling brings us no place. Shall we go on or
-shall we go back? Shall we go north or shall we go south? Those are
-questions we must answer. Now I will tell you. If we go on, we shall
-find little fishing ships, with fish and no chinks, and we shall get
-tired of eating fish. If we go back in this fine ship that God in his
-goodness hath given us, we shall hang. We may yet go back to Mother
-Taylor, but we must go back in another ship. You know why. Now, brave
-hearts, if we go on to New England it shall profit us nothing. For the
-New-English are poor. They live in little huts. The savages come down
-out of the woods and kill. Whether there be lions I do not know and I
-do not care; those savages I have seen and they are a very ugly sight.
-The English plantations are cold in winter like the devil. They are
-poor. The English, they play with poverty.
-
-"And if we go south? Ah-h-h! There are the Spains! They have sun and
-warmth and fruits and spices! They have mines of gold and silver
-and stones of great price. While the English play with poverty, the
-Spains play with empires! In New England we shall eat salt cods or
-starve--which is much the same, for salt cods are a poor diet. But in
-the South we shall maybe catch a galleon with a vast treasure." And
-with that, very serious and sure of his rightness, he sat down.
-
-"Yea, Yacob! Yea, Yacob!" they bawled and delighting in the
-alliteration cried it again, over and over.
-
-Paul Craig, heavy with sated gluttony, piped a shrill "Yea, Yacob,"
-and the Old One pounded the table and grinned, for he had sailed many
-seas in Jacob's company. Phil Marsham--nay, and even Will Canty,
-too!--pricked ears at the sound of Spanish galleons; for the blue
-Caribbean and the blue hills of the main were fabled, as all knew, to
-hold such wealth as according to the tales of the old travellers was to
-be found in Cathay or along the banks of the first of the four rivers
-out of Paradise. And was not a Spanish ship fair prey for the most
-law-abiding of English mariners?
-
-There was a hubbub of talk as they sat there, and there was no doubt
-but they were of one mind to turn their backs on the bleak northern
-coast and seek a golden fortune in the south. But the council arrived
-suddenly at an end when down from the deck came the lingering call, "A
-sa-i-l! A sa-i-l!"
-
-Up, then, the Old One leaped, and he raised his hand. "A sail is cried.
-What say you?"
-
-"Let us not cast away what God hath offered us!"
-
-"Yea, Yacob!"
-
-"Up, you dogs in the steerage! A hall, a hall!"
-
-One fell over on the table in drunken torpor. Another rushed out the
-door and tumbled over a sleeper at the threshold.
-
-"Up, you dogs! How stands he?"
-
-They poured out of the cabin to the deck.
-
-"He stands on the lee bow!"
-
-"Bear up the helm! A fresh man at the helm!" the Old One thundered. He
-squinted across the sea. "Come, Harry--here on the poop--and tell me if
-she be not a ketch. Now she lifts--now she falls. 'Twill be a chase, I
-take it."
-
-The round little mate came nimbly up the ladder.
-
-"Helm a-luff!" said he in his light, quick voice, which at first the
-helmsman failed to hear. "Helm a-luff! A-luff, man! Art deaf? The
-courses hide her. There she lifts! Yea, a ketch. Let us see. It is now
-an hour to sunset. If we stand across her bows and bear a sharp watch
-we shall come up with her in early evening and a very proper moment it
-will be."
-
-His light, incisive speech, so unlike the boisterous ranting of the Old
-One, in its own way curiously influenced even the Old One himself. A
-man who has a trick of getting at sound reasons, unmoved by bluster or
-emotion, can hold his own in any company; and many a quiet voice can
-fire a ship's crew to action as a slow match fires a cannon.
-
-"Now, young men," Martin roared, "up aloft and loose fore and main
-topsails. And oh that our stout mizzenmast were standing yet!"
-
-"No, no, no!" cried Harry Malcolm and he almost raised his voice. "Thy
-haste, thou pop-eyed fool, would work the end of us all. Think you, if
-they see us fling every sail to the wind, they will abide our coming
-without charging their guns and stationing every gunner with linstock
-and lighted match? Nay, though she be but a ketch, let us go limping
-across her bows as lame as a pipped hen."
-
-"True, and with every man lying by the side of his gun, where they
-shall not see him until we haul up the ports and show the teeth of
-the good ship." It was Jacob who spoke thus as he climbed to Harry
-Malcolm's side.
-
-The Old One, looking down at the deck below, touched his mate's arm.
-
-"Yea, I see them. What do you want?"
-
-"It seems," said the Old One, "that our boatswain hath a liking for the
-fellow."
-
-"And that the fellow hath a liking for our boatswain, think you?"
-
-"Well?"
-
-Jacob thrust his long nose between them. "'Well,' you say, by which you
-mean 'not well.' It proves nothing that a man will not drink damnation
-to a king."
-
-The three heads met, high on the poop, and now and again they glanced
-down at the two lads who stood by the waist and watched the distant
-sail, which grew black as the sun set behind it.
-
-The sun set and the sea darkened and a light flamed up on board the
-chase, which appeared to show her good faith by standing toward the
-Rose of Devon.
-
-There was a rumble of laughter among the men when they perceived she
-had changed her course. The sober wrung oaths from the drunk by dashing
-bucketfuls of cold water in their faces. The gunners moved like shadows
-among the guns. And high on the poop, three shadows again merged into
-one.
-
-"Master Boatswain," the Old One called, but softly, "do thou take it
-upon thyself, although it lies outside thine own province, to make
-sure that powder and balls and sponges and ladles and rammers are laid
-ready."
-
-Hunching his bent shoulders, Mate Malcolm came nimbly down the ladder
-and from the chest of arms drew forth muskets and pistols.
-
-"Come, my bullies below there, knock open your ports!" It was the Old
-One's voice, but so softly and briskly did he speak that it might have
-been Harry Malcolm.
-
-As the dim figures on deck moved cautiously about, the subdued voice
-again floated down to them:--
-
-"Let all the guns be loose in tackles and stand by to run them out when
-the word is given. Port your helm! Every man to his quarters. Now, my
-hearts, be ready to show your courage and we'll have this wandering
-ketch for a consort to our good Rose of Devon."
-
-Then Harry Malcolm came in haste along the deck. "Who's to this gun?
-And who to this? Nay, you've a man too many there. Here, fellow, come
-hither! Here a man is lacking. You there, who are playing the part of
-gunner, have you ever heard these bulldogs bark? And understand you the
-business? Good, good!" And he passed on up the deck. Nought escaped
-him. In the silence they heard the sound of his voice and the quick
-pattering of his feet when they could see no more than that he was
-still moving among the guns.
-
-They had come so near the stranger that they must soon hail or be
-hailed, when a figure emerging from the steerage room in the darkness
-came upon Phil Marsham by the quarter-deck ladder and gave a great
-start. As Phil turned, the fellow whispered, "God be thanked it is
-thou! I thought it was another. Come with me to the side--here by the
-shrouds."
-
-The two stepped lightly under the shadow of the quarter-deck to the
-waist, where the carpenter had nailed in place new planks not twelve
-hours since, and together they raised a bundle. It was on the larboard
-side, and since all had gathered for the moment to starboard to watch
-the strange ketch, there was no man to observe them. Some one moved
-above them and they hesitated, then they heard slow steps receding and
-thick undertones that they recognized as Jacob's. When he had gone,
-the one who had brought the bundle whispered, "Heave it far out," and
-together they hove it.
-
-Still in the shadow of the quarter-deck, the two slipped silently back,
-unseen, and when Harry Malcolm came hurrying from one side, and Jacob
-from the other, to see what had made the splash, there was no one there
-nor could any man answer their questions.
-
-"Have you done as you said?" Phil asked in a breathless whisper.
-
-"That I have." And it was Will Canty who spoke.
-
-"Then we shall like enough be hanged; but thou art a tall fellow and I
-love thee for it."
-
-There came over the water a voice distinctly calling, "Whence your
-ship?"
-
-"Back to your guns, ye dogs!" cried Mate Malcolm in a voice that could
-be heard the length of the deck, yet that was not loud enough to be
-heard on board the stranger.
-
-"Of England," the Old One called from the quarter-deck. "And whence is
-yours?"
-
-There was a space of silence, in which the two vessels came nearer each
-other, and I would have you know that hearts ever so courageous were
-thumping at a lively pace.
-
-"And yours?" the Old One cried the second time.
-
-There came voices and a hoarse laugh from the stranger, then, "Are you
-merchants or men of war?"
-
-"Of the sea," cried the Old One in a voice so like thunder that a man
-would not think it could have come from his lean throat. "Run out
-your guns, O my hearts! Let him have the chase guns first. The chase
-guns--the chase guns!"
-
-Now one bawled down the main hatch, and another below echoed his cry,
-then there sounded the quick _boom-boom_ from the bows. The guns had
-spoken and the fight was on.
-
-"Up your helm--up your helm! Hold your fire now, my hearts, and have at
-them!" the Old One cried.
-
-And now the voice came again over the restless sea. "Our ship is the
-Porcupine ketch and our quills are set."
-
-The dark sea tossed and rolled between the vessels and little that
-happened on board either was visible to the other, so black was the
-night; but the light of the sky, which the water reflected, made of
-each a black shape clear-cut as of jet but finer than the most cunning
-hand could carve, in which a man might trace every line and rope.
-
-And now from on board the ketch jets of flame burst out and after them
-came smartly the crack of muskets.
-
-"Now, lads," the Old One thundered, "give fire and make an end of this
-petty galling. Give fire!"
-
-A gun on the maintop-deck boomed and another followed; but there
-was confusion and stumbling and all were slow for want of practice
-together, and there was time lost ere the third gun spoke. Then, while
-Mate Malcolm was storming up the deck and the Old One was storming
-down, they heard the strange master calling to his gunners; then, to
-the vast amazement of the men of the Rose of Devon, who had cherished
-the delusion that their chase was a weak craft and an easy prize, on
-board the ketch as many as a dozen guns belched flame. Their thunder
-shook the sea and their balls sang through the rigging, and a lucky
-shot struck the Rose of Devon in the forecastle and went crashing
-through the bulkhead.
-
-The ketch then tacked as if to give fire with her other broadside but
-deftly swung back again and before the Old One or Harry Malcolm had
-fathomed the meaning of it there rose from on board her, the cries of
-"Bear up and close with him!"--"Board him on his quarter!" "Have ready
-your graplins!"
-
-"Sheer off, sheer off!" old Jacob roared. "Our powder is good for
-nought. Yea, she is in all truth a prickly porcupine."
-
-"If we foul, cut anything to get clear!" cried the Old One. "Put down
-your helm! Veer out your sheets! Cast off weather sheets and braces!
-Aloft, there, and clear the main yard where the cut tacklings foul it!
-Good lad, boatswain, good lad!"
-
-For on the yardarm Phil had drawn dirk and cut at the snarl of ropes,
-where a chance ball had wrought much mischief. Then, as the two vessels
-swung side by side he looked squarely into the eyes of a bearded man in
-the rigging of the ketch.
-
-The Old One--give the Devil his due!--was handling his ship in a proper
-manner and by luffing he had kept abreast of those guns in the ketch
-which had spent their charges. But it was plain that the Rose of Devon
-had caught a tartar. In all truth, she had run upon a porcupine with
-quills set, for though a smaller vessel, the ketch, it now appeared,
-carried as many men or more, and every man knew his place and duty.
-Looking down on her deck, Phil saw her gun crews toiling with sponges
-and rammers to load anew.
-
-She was herself, it seemed, a sea rover athirst for blood and in those
-wild, remote seas there was no fraternity among thieves. As the main
-yardarm of the Rose of Devon swung toward her rigging when the ship
-rolled, the bearded man ran a rope about the spar and in a moment the
-vessels were locked abeam and were drifting together till their sides
-should touch.
-
-Philip Marsham again drew the dirk that Colin Samson had wrought for
-him and leaning far out struck at the fellow's breast, who swung back
-to avoid the thrust, which pricked him but did no more. Then the fellow
-sprang to the attack with his own knife in hand, for he had thrown
-a knot in the rope, which creaked and tightened; and with a yell of
-triumph he struck at the lad, who swung to one side and struck back.
-
-It was a brave fight in the empty air, and the two were like warring
-spiders as they circled and swung in the darkness and thrust each at
-the other. But the lad was many years the younger, and by so much the
-more nimble, and his dirk--for which all thanks to Colin Samson!--smote
-the fellow a slashing blow in the thigh. And while the fellow clung to
-the shrouds, weak with pain, a second Rose-of-Devon's man came crawling
-over Phil who hung below from the yard, and slashed the rope.
-
-"We are clear! We are clear! God be thanked!" the Old One yelled.
-
-Meanwhile the men of the Rose of Devon had succeeded in firing
-three guns of the larboard broadside, which by the grace of Divine
-Providence wrought such ruin in the stranger's running gear that the
-one crew of rascals was enabled to escape fit retribution at the hands
-of the other. The peak of her great foresail fell and in a moment her
-cut halyards were swept into a snarl that needed time and daylight for
-untangling.
-
-So the Rose of Devon slipped past the ketch, whose men were striving
-to clear the rigging and come about in pursuit, and having once evaded
-her erstwhile chase, the old ship ran away in the night. With her
-lights out and all the sail spread that she could carry, and favoured
-by clouds and fog, she made good her escape; but there was grumbling
-forward and grumbling aft, and there was a dead man to heave over the
-side.
-
-It served Philip Marsham better than he knew that he had fought a duel
-on the yardarm; for dark though the night had been, there had happened
-little that escaped the Old One's eye; and bitter though Tom Jordan's
-temper and angry his mood, he was always one to give credit where he
-believed it due.
-
-When he wiped the blood from the dirk, Phil remembered with gratitude
-the good smith, Colin Samson. Then he thought of the old lady and
-gentleman at the inn, and of Nell Entick, and bluff Sir John. He would
-have been glad enough to be out of the Rose of Devon and away, but for
-better or worse he had cast his lot in the ship, and though he little
-liked the lawless turn her affairs had taken, a man cannot run away by
-night from a ship on the high seas.
-
-All hands stood watch till dawn as a tribute to the war of one pirate
-upon another, and not until the sun had risen and shown no sail in
-sight did the Old One himself go into the great cabin.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-A BIRD TO BE LIMED
-
-
-A lad being called into council by such a man as Tom Jordan might well
-think himself a fine fellow, and rare enough were lads whom Tom Jordan
-would thus have summoned. But although Philip Marsham, it seemed, had
-taken the Old One's eye and won his heart long before on the little
-hill beside the road, when Phil had drawn the wind from Martin's sails,
-and although it had not escaped Tom Jordan that Phil's hand moved
-easily toward his weapon, the old proverb has it "a man that flattereth
-his neighbor, spreadeth a net for his steps"; and "he that whistleth
-merrily, spreadeth his nets cunningly and hunteth after his prey
-greedily."
-
-So, "Come, boatswain, and lend us thy wits," cried Tom. "Four heads
-shall provide more wisdom than three." And with that, he clapped Phil
-on the back and drew him into the cabin where Jacob and the mate sat
-deep in talk of the night's adventures.
-
-"A hawk, when she is first dressed and ready to fly," said Jacob, "is
-sharp set and hath a great will upon her. If the falconer do not then
-follow it, she will be dulled for ever after. So, master, a man! Yea,
-and a ship."
-
-"A great will, sayest thou?" quoth the Old One, and his voice revealed
-his sullen anger. "Why then, in God's name, did ye not rake them with
-a broadside or twain?" With which he turned on Harry Malcolm, thus to
-include him in the charge.
-
-"For one thing," replied Malcolm, and testily, for ill temper prevailed
-both aft and forward, "we gave the gunners no firing to learn them
-their guns. For another thing, the powder failed us. For yet another,
-since you say what you say, and be cursed for it, 'twere a mad, foolish
-notion to run afoul a strange ship, for we have but a half the company
-we need to work a ship and fight. And finally, to cap our woeful
-proverbs, we know what we know--yea," and he shot a dark glance from
-under bent brows, "we know what we know; there be those who come toward
-us with their feet, but go from us with their hearts." His voice, as
-always, was light and quick, but there was a rumble in it, such as one
-may sometimes hear in a dog's throat.
-
-As the three men looked first at one and then at another, there came to
-Boatswain Marsham, sitting as it were outside their circle, the uneasy
-throbbing of their suspicion.
-
-"Of the powder," said Jacob coolly, "I have taken a little from each
-barrel." He laid on the table seven packages wrapped in leaves from an
-old book. Regarding closely the notes he had written on each package,
-he opened them one by one and placed them in a row.
-
-"This," said he, "is from the barrel that good Harry Malcolm served
-out to the men and that doubtless this man Candle hath used from in
-old days. It hath lost its strength by long lying. Press it with thy
-fingers and thou shalt feel it soft to the touch. Here upon this white
-sheet of paper I lay four corns of this powder. This other powder"--and
-he chose a second package--"is from a barrel new opened. Press it and
-thou shalt see how firm and hard is each corn. And this, too, is firm
-and of a fair azure. And so, also, this. But this--" and he first put
-his eyes close to the notes on each remaining packet, then held them
-far off, for his sight, although good at a great distance, made out
-with difficulty things near at hand, "this is from a barrel that hath
-lost its strength by moisture; and this hath a fault I shall tell you
-of."
-
-Taking a pinch of each, as he spoke, he had laid the corns, each some
-three fingers distant from the next, in a circle on the paper. He then
-struck tinder, and lighting a match made of twisted cords of tow boiled
-in strong lye-ashes and saltpetre, he held it over a corn of the good
-powder. There was a flash and puff, and the ring of powder was gone.
-The corns of good powder had fired speedily and left only a chalky
-whiteness in their place, nor had they burned the paper or given off
-smoke; but the corns of poor powder had burned slowly, and some had
-scorched the paper and some had given forth smoke.
-
-The Old One softly swore. "And have we, then," asked he, "but three
-barrels of good powder?"
-
-"Nay, there are more than three. This last is weak because they have
-neglected to turn the barrels upside down, so the petre has settled
-from top to bottom, as is its way. We shall find the bottom as strong
-as the top is weak, and by turning the barrel we shall renew its
-strength evenly."
-
-"As for the powder that hath spoiled by long lying," cried Philip
-Marsham, "I will undertake to make it as good as new."
-
-"Do you, boatswain, mind your sails and cordage," said old Jacob,
-with a wry smile. "An you wish to grind it in the mortar, that you
-may; but it is I who will measure the petre. Nay, I will make you, if
-you wish it for a wonder to show friends, a powder of any colour you
-please--white, red, blue, or green."
-
-Of the three who leaned over the packets of powder, old Jacob was the
-only one who bore with even temper the sad reverse of the night before;
-for master and mate glared at each other in such wrath as had thrown a
-shadow over every soul in the ship.
-
-Some had waked with aching heads, for which they had their own folly
-to thank; some were like men who dream they have got a great treasure
-but wake to find pebblestones or worse under the pillow: since the
-Porcupine ketch had yielded them no gold and had stung them instead
-with her quills. In all truth the ship was by the ears, for in
-extremities your sea sharks are uncertain friends, as a touch of foul
-weather will manifest to any man's satisfaction.
-
-"Enough of this," said the Old One, and he pushed aside the packets and
-folded his arms. "We lose time. There is a thief amongst us."
-
-"A thief, you say?" And the hot red of anger burned its way across the
-boatswain's face, for the three had turned and looked hard at him.
-
-The Old One and Harry Malcolm then exchanged quick glances, and Jacob
-shut his small mouth tight and knotted his brows.
-
-"Well," cried Phil, "would you charge me with theft?"
-
-"Some one," said the Old One, lingering over each word, "hath wrought a
-clever plot against us."
-
-"Say on, say on!"
-
-"He is a man, I make no doubt, whose buttons are breaking with venom."
-
-There was heavy silence in the cabin. Jacob, pursing his lips and
-knotting his brows, looked from one of them to another, and Phil,
-vaguely on the defensive, drew back and gave them a gaze as steady as
-they sent.
-
-"He is doubtless a very cunning rascal," Harry Malcolm put in, "who
-hath cut his cloth by his wits; but he is making a suit that will
-throttle him by its narrowness about the neck."
-
-The master and mate once more exchanged glances and the Old One then
-smiled lightly, as if again there were sunlight rippling over dark
-water.
-
-"Nay, Philip, we think no ill of thee. But do thou have care to thy
-company. A foul trick hath been done with a mind to render us helpless
-at sea, so that we must crawl to the nearest land, where some base
-dunghill spirit is doubtless of a mind to leave our company. But we
-have resources; yea, and of thee, Philip, we think no ill."
-
-Despite their fair words, though, they were watching Philip Marsham
-like three old tomcats watching a sparrow, and he, being no fool, knew
-the reason why.
-
-Three hard faces they showed: the one, handsome in a devilish way and
-keen; the second, unassuming, yet deeply astute and marked by a deeper
-rooted, if less frank, selfishness; the third, older, wiser, more
-self-centred.
-
-The eyes of master and mate were coldly cruel; but old Jacob was too
-intent on his own thoughts to be cruel save by indifference.
-
-All that day Jacob squatted on the deck and toiled with tools and wood.
-From the wood he chose certain long pieces, fine-grained and straight
-and dry and free from knots, and certain shorter and broader pieces
-that were suited to his purpose, and bade the carpenter plane them
-smooth. He laid out scales, working with a small square and a pair
-of compasses, and engraved them with utmost care. He wrought brass
-into curious shapes by a plan he made, and from morning till night he
-kept at the task, frowning and ciphering and sitting deep in thought.
-He called for charcoal and a mortar, and beat the charcoal to a fine
-powder and tempered it with linseed oil. This he rubbed into the wood
-he had shaped to his liking, and watched it a long while, now and again
-touching it to try it; then with oil from a phial he had found in a
-chest in the great cabin he rubbed the wood clean, and there were left
-in the wood, set off neatly in black, the gradations and figures he had
-so exactly etched.
-
-Taking his work into the great cabin, he toiled on by lanthorn light
-until a late hour, and there through the open door men as they passed
-might see him hunched over the table with his medley of tools about
-him. But when at last he leaned back and drew a long breath of relief,
-very serious and very wise, his work was done, and curiously and deftly
-contrived it was.
-
-On the table before him there lay a cross-staff, a nocturnal and a
-Gunter's scale, "with which," said he, to the Old One, who sat opposite
-him quietly taking tobacco and sipping wine, "and with what instruments
-the thief hath left us, a man can navigate a ship where he will."
-
-Examining closely the nocturnal, which was intricately carved and
-engraved, the Old One muttered, as if ignoring Jacob's words, "I will
-yet lime that bird."
-
-"Though he be never so mad a callant, I misdoubt he will put his head
-into a noose," said Jacob in his thick, serious voice.
-
-"Be he the one we think or not the one we think, I will set him such
-a trap," said the Old One, "as will take the cunningest fox that ever
-doubled on the hounds." And the thin face smiled in a way that was not
-pleasant to see.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV
-
-A WONDERFUL EXCELLENT COOK
-
-
-If an astrologer or an Arabian enchanter could say to a man, "Beware
-of this or that, for it is a thing conceived of the Devil to work thy
-ruin," there would be reason for studying the stars or smiting the
-sand. And this, indeed, they do, according to the old tales. But if a
-sailor seek out an astrologer to learn things that shall profit him,
-he is more likely to find a man grown foolish by much study, who will
-stroke his chin sagely and say, "Come, let us look into this matter.
-Under Capricorn are all diseases in the knees and hams, leprosies, itch
-and scales and schirrous tumors, fallow grounds and barren fields,
-ox-houses and cow-houses, low dark places near the ground, and places
-where sails and materials for ships be laid." And while he talks of
-fixed angles and of the Lord of the Ascendant being in the fourth week,
-some small unsuspected thing may be the very egg on which the Devil is
-sitting like an old black hen to hatch forth a general calamity.
-
-Thus certain incidents that shortly thereafter happened are to the
-point, for although they appeared of little moment at the time, they
-turned the tide of men's lives and made a stir that has to do with the
-current of my tale.
-
-Now the men of the Rose of Devon sighted a sail at high noon when they
-were a week on their way south, and though she showed her heels and
-ran, and though the Rose of Devon lacked her mizzenmast, the strange
-vessel was but a small pink and so slow that they laid her aboard two
-hours before dark. In her crew she had only a dozen men, and sorely
-frightened they were, as they tossed in the lee of the dark frigate.
-So to save themselves from a more cruel fate there was scarcely one of
-them but leaped at the chance to join the Rose of Devon's crew. They
-tumbled up their small cargo of salt fish for Bilbao and hoisted it on
-board the ship, together with their shallop, and casting their pink
-adrift, they forbore from complaining when their new master and his men
-stole whatever pleased them, from the new men's rings and knives to the
-very clothes on their backs. So, with her plunder and her recruits, the
-Rose of Devon again squared her yards and continued on her course.
-
-There was, to be sure, one fellow of mean spirit who whined dolefully,
-upon conceiving his present extremity to be distasteful. But another
-got comfort by knocking him on the head when no one was looking; and
-finding him dead, the Old One hove him over-board and there was no
-further trouble from the fishermen.
-
-Yet it was no secret that there was grumbling and complaining forward
-among the gentlemen of the Rose of Devon, so the Old One sent the
-boatswain to summon them aft when the watches were changing.
-
-He leaned against the swivel gun on the quarter-deck, and looking down
-into their faces, smiled disagreeably. "It hath come to my ears," said
-he, "that one hath a sad tale to tell because we failed to take the
-Porcupine, which, though a mere ketch, outnumbered us in guns and men.
-And another hath a sad tale to tell because this pink that late became
-our prize is small and of little worth, though we got from her eleven
-brave fellows who shall be worth a store of fine gold." He looked from
-one of his men to another, for they were all there,--Martin and the
-cook, and Philip Marsham and Will Canty, and Paul Craig and Joe Kirk,
-the one-eyed carpenter and the rest,--and his thin face settled into
-the many wrinkles that had got him his name. There was none of them,
-unless it might be Harry Malcolm or Old Jacob, who could say surely at
-one time or another what thoughts were uppermost in Tom Jordan's shrewd
-head.
-
-"Come, now, my hearts of gold," he cried, "let us have an end of such
-folly. Said I not that these northern fisheries were meat for crows?
-And that we must go south to find prey for eagles? We will choose a
-fine harbour by some green island where there's rich fruit for the
-picking and fat fish for the catching, and we will build there a town
-of our own. We will take toll from the King of Spain's ships; we will
-take us wives and women and gold and wine from the dons of the islands
-and the main. Yea, we will lay up a great store of riches and live in
-fullness of bread and abundance of idleness."
-
-Some were pleased, but some doubted still, which the Old One
-perceiving, for he read their faces, cried, "Nay, speak up, speak up!
-Let us have no fair-protesting friends with hollow and undermining
-hearts."
-
-"Yea, it is a fair tale," cried one, in a surly voice, "but thus far we
-have blows to show for our pains--blows and a kettle of fish."
-
-"And methinks," another growled, "we shall see more of salt fish and
-buccaned meat, than of fine wines and gold and handsome women."
-
-"'Tis a swinish thought," the Old One retorted; but he smiled when he
-said it, so that they took no offense, for of such grumbling he had no
-fear. He was set to catch a bird of quite another feather.
-
-Then old Jacob rose and they were silent to hear him. "Let us make an
-end of talk," said he slowly. "We are on our way south and to stop or
-turn aside would be nothing but foolishness." And with that, although
-they had expected him to say more, he turned away.
-
-Then, of a sudden, "Come, Will," the Old One cried, singling out his
-man from all the rest, "what say you?"
-
-If Will Canty's face changed at all, it was a whit the paler as he met
-the Old One's eyes. "I say," he replied, "that since we have fish on
-board, we are sure of fish and would do well to eat fish ere we lose
-it."
-
-"There is sooth in thy words," quoth the Old One, and he smiled in
-friendly wise. (But despite his smile, he liked the words little, as
-any shrewd man might have known by his eyes, and Will Canty was no
-fool.) "Come, cook, and boil us a great kettle of fish."
-
-The rumble of low voices changed to laughter and the cook boldly cried,
-"Yea, yea, master!"
-
-"For our much voyaging and many pains," cried the men, as they went
-about their work, "we have got a kettle of fish." And they laughed
-mightily, for though it was the very thing that before had made them
-grumble, now they saw it as a droll affair and made of it many jests,
-of which a few were good and more bad, after the manner of jests.
-
-As for the cook, he called his mate and bade him break out a drum of
-fish and set a kettle to boil, and cuffed him this way and that, till
-the poor fellow's ears were swollen.
-
-And the Old One said to Harry Malcolm, "Saw you not how deftly the
-fellow twisted out of the corner, and with a sly remark that no one can
-take amiss? Oh, he is a slippery dog and I am minded to cut his throat
-out of hand!"
-
-"Now, that would be very foolish, for where there's one of them,
-there's always two, and the one will toll the other on until there are
-two dogs by the heels instead of one."
-
-At that the Old One laughed harshly, and the two, who were after a
-left-handed fashion uncommonly congenial, went off well pleased with
-their conceit.
-
-Down in the hold the kettle boiled right merrily, and the cook swelled
-with pride that he had a mate to carry and fetch. He cuffed the poor
-fellow this way, and he cuffed him that. He threw a pan at him when the
-fire smoked worse than common, and he thrust a fistful of flour into
-his face and down his neck when he let the fire lag. He flung him his
-length on the floor for spilling a pint of water; and when in despair
-the lad fled for his life, the cook seized him by the hair and haled
-him back and put a long knife at his breast and swore to have his
-heart's blood. Oh, the cook was in a rare and merry mood, for he had
-drunk more sack than was good for him from the cask he had marked as
-his own; but as he had waxed exceeding gay and haughty, the sack had
-dulled his wits and he was drunker than he knew.
-
-"Come, thou pig! Thou son of a swine!" he yelled. "Ladle out the fish
-and choose of the best for the cabin. Yea, choose in abundance and
-summon the master's boy and bid him haste. And do thou bestir thyself
-and carry to the men." And with that, he fetched the poor fellow a blow
-on his head, which knocked him off his feet.
-
-The fellow ran to do the work and the cook, in vast satisfaction at
-having so well acquitted himself, sat down with a goblet of sack and
-tippled and nodded, and kept an ill-tempered eye on the master's boy
-and his own, as with shrewd fear of broken heads they scurried back and
-forth.
-
-"It is most wonderful excellent sack," quoth the cook, and with his
-sleeve he mopped his fiery bald head. "It was by a happy stroke I
-marked it for my own. Truly, I had rather be cook than master, for here
-I sit with mine eye upon the cabin stores, from which I can choose and
-eat at will, and the captain, nay, the Lord High Admiral of England,
-is himself none the wiser. Fish, sayest thou? Nay, fish is at best a
-poor man's food. I will have none of it." And thus he ran on foolishly,
-forgetting as he drank sack, that there was no one to hear him, not
-even his mate. "Truly, I am a wonderful excellent cook. I may in time
-become a captain. I may even become the governor of a plantation and
-take for a wife some handsome Spanish woman with a wonderful rich
-dowry. She must have an exceeding rich dowry if she will marry me,
-though. Yea, I am a wonderful excellent cook." And the more he drank
-the more foolish he became.
-
-After a while, he cocked his head upon one side; and quoth he, "I hear
-them calling and shouting! It seemeth they are singing huzza for me.
-I hear them coming down to do me honour. Truly, I am a most wonderful
-excellent cook and the fish hath pleased them well. Foolish ones that
-they are to eat it!"
-
-The silly fellow sat with his head on one side and smiled when they
-burst in upon him. "Hast come for more fish?" he cried. "Yonder stands
-the kettle. Nay, what's that? What's that thou sayest? Nay, fellow,
-th' art mad? Thou know'st not to whom thou speakest."
-
-"Fool! Knave! Scoundrel! Swine!" they yelled. "Oh, such a beating as
-thy fat carcase will get. Hear you not the uproar? Think you to cozzen
-us?"
-
-With that they seized him, two by the head and two by the feet, and
-dragged him to the ladder. They threw a rope about him and knotted it
-fast and tossed the ends to men at the hatch above, who hauled him,
-squealing and kicking like an old hog, up on deck. To the cabin they
-dragged him, with all the men shrieking curses at him and pelting him
-with chunks of fish, and in the cabin they stood him before the table
-where the Old One and Harry Malcolm sat, and very angry were they all.
-
-"Dog of a cook," said the Old One, "for a relish to conclude our meal,
-we shall see thee eat of this fish that the boy hath brought us." And
-he thrust before the cook a great dish. "Eat it, every shred, bones and
-all," said he, "or I'll have thee butchered and boiled in place of it."
-
-"Why, now," said the cook, somewhat sobered by rough handling and a
-trifle perplexed, but for all that still well pleased with himself, "as
-for the bones, they are liable to scrape a man's throat going down. I
-am reluctant to eat bones. But the meat is good. I rejoice to partake
-of it, for so diligently have I laboured to prepare it that I have
-denied myself, yea, though I hungered greatly."
-
-"Eat," said the Old One and widely he grinned.
-
-Looking suspiciously about him, for there was something in their manner
-that he failed to understand, the cook thrust his hand into the dish
-and took from it a great slice of fish, which he crammed into his mouth.
-
-"Eat," said the Old One, "eat, O thou jewel among cooks!"
-
-A curious look came over the cook's face and he raised his hand as if
-to take the fish out of his mouth.
-
-"Nay, swallow it down," said the Old One. "Be not sparing. There is
-abundance in the dish. Yea, thou shalt stand there eating for a long
-time to come." And though he smiled, his look made it plain that he was
-in no trifling mood.
-
-The cook turned pale and choked and gasped. "Water!" he cried thickly,
-for his mouth was too full for easy speech.
-
-"Nay, much drinking hath wrought havoc with thy wits. Eat on, eat on!"
-
-Prodigious were the gulps by which the cook succeeded at last in
-swallowing his huge mouthful, and great was his distress, for the salt
-in it nearly choked him. "Water, water!" he weakly cried. "Nay, temper
-thine heart with mercy, master! I beg for water--I beseech for water."
-
-"Eat on," said the Old One grimly.
-
-Then Harry Malcolm chuckled and the men in the door roared with
-laughter, but the cook plunked down on his fat knees and thrust out
-both his hands. "Nay, master, I cannot hold it down!"
-
-"Eat on, O jewel among cooks!"
-
-"Nay, master--"
-
-"Come, then, lads, and cram it down his hungry throat."
-
-Three of them seized him, and one, when he shut tight his mouth, thrust
-a knife between his teeth.
-
-"Blub-bub-blah!" he yelled. "I'll eat! I'll eat!"
-
-They let him go and he rose and ate. Time and again he gasped for water
-and they laughed; time and again he lagged and the Old One cried, "Eat
-on!" When at last he stood miserably in front of the empty dish, the
-Old One said, "For a day and a night shalt thou sit in bilboes with a
-dry throat, which will be a lesson to learn thee two things: first,
-before cooking a kettle of fish, do thou bear it well in mind to soak
-out the salt so that the fish be fit for food; and second, by way of
-common prudence, do thou sample for thyself the dishes that are cooked
-for the cabin."
-
-They haled him forward and locked the shackles on his feet and placed
-beside him a great dish of the fish, that whoever wished might pelt him
-with it; and there they left him to repent of his folly and forswear
-drunkenness and whimper for water.
-
-As the weary hours passed, the sun tormented him in his insufferable
-thirst; but nightfall in a measure brought relief and he nodded in the
-darkness and fell asleep.
-
-Waking, he would rub his head, which sadly throbbed and would seek by
-gulping to ease his parched throat; and sleeping again, he would dream
-of great buckets of clear water. The voices that he heard buzzed in his
-ears as if they were the droning of flies, and hunching himself down
-in his shackles at one end of the iron bar, he forgot the world and
-was forgotten, since his fat carcase lay inertly in a black shadow and
-there was nothing to make a man keep him in mind.
-
-He heard at last a voice saying, "But nevertheless it becomes you to
-walk lightly and carefully," and another replying, "I fear him not, for
-all his subtle ways. Much that goes on escapes him."
-
-He stirred uneasily, and opening his eyes, saw that there were two men
-leaning side by side against the forecastle.
-
-"In the matter of wit, you grant him less than his due," said the first
-speaker. "And in another matter you charge him with a heavier burden
-than he needs bear."
-
-The cook stirred and groaned and the first speaker chuckled, at which
-the cook's gorge rose from anger.
-
-"O jewel among cooks!" one of the two called softly, and the unhappy
-man knew by the voice that the speaker was Philip Marsham.
-
-Naming no names and talking in roundabout phrases as people do when
-they wish one to know their meaning and another not to, the two
-continued with no heed at all to the cook, whom they thought a mere
-drunken lout. And indeed, their undertones were scarcely audible; but
-anger sharpened the cook's ears and his wits, and he lay and ruminated
-over such chance sentences as he got.
-
-"It puzzled me from the first," said the other, "to see how easily you
-bore with your comrade of the road."
-
-"Why, he is a good soul in his way."
-
-The other gave a grunt of disgust.
-
-"Nay, it is a wonder to me that a lad with your nice notions ever found
-his way to sea," Phil retorted.
-
-"And I might never have gone, had not Captain Francis Candle been my
-godfather."
-
-"As for me, I have seen both sides of life; and, but for a certain
-thing that happened, I might be well enough contented where I am."
-
-"And that?"
-
-Phil hesitated, for though they had talked freely, as young men will,
-the question searched a side of Phil's life to which as yet he had
-given no clue. "Why," said he, lowering his voice, "for one thing, I
-saw for the first time my own grandfather; and for another, I saw a
-certain old knight who quite won my fancy from such a man as a certain
-one we know. Come, let us stroll together." And as they walked the deck
-that night, arm in arm, Phil told his companion what his life had been
-and what it might have been, and mentioned, in passing, the girl at the
-inn.
-
-Left to his miseries and his thoughts, of which the first were little
-better company than the second, the woeful cook turned over and over
-in his fat head such fragments of their talk as he had succeeded in
-overhearing, and to say truth, he made little more out of it all than
-the speakers had intended. But his parched throat teased his wits to
-greater effort, and being come to such a state that he would have
-bartered his immortal soul for water, had chance offered, he bethought
-him of a plan by which, if luck held good, he might escape from his
-shackles.
-
-The moment for which he waited was a long time coming and he suffered
-a great variety of increasing miseries before it arrived; but when
-the watches changed, he saw among the men newly arrived on deck his
-erstwhile dearest friend, and somewhat reluctantly forgiving his dear
-friend for belabouring him over the head with a whole salt fish, the
-cook softly called the man by name.
-
-The fellow came snickering, which made it none the easier to bespeak
-his aid; but the cook nevertheless swallowed his wrath as well as with
-his dry throat he could, and whispered to the fellow that he must make
-haste and tell the master there was news to be imparted in secret.
-
-At this the fellow held up his hand with thumb thrust between first and
-second fingers.
-
-"Give me no fico," wailed the most excellent cook. "Nay, I have
-stumbled upon a black and hidden matter. Go thou, and in haste, and it
-will pay thee well."
-
-For a time they bickered in the dark, but there was in the cook's
-despair a sincerity that finally made the fellow believe the tale; and
-finding, upon stealing aft, that there was still a light in the great
-cabin, he mustered up his courage and knocked.
-
-"Enter," cried a hard voice.
-
-The fellow opened the door and peeped in and found the Old One sitting
-alone at the table. Glancing hastily about, and the more alarmed to
-meet the cold eye of Harry Malcolm who lay on the great bed in the
-corner of the cabin, he closed the door at his back and whispered, "He
-swears it's true--that there's foul work afoot. 'Tis the cook who hath
-told me--yea, and hath bade me tell you. He would say no more--the
-cook, I mean."
-
-"Oh, my good friend, our most excellent cook!" Meditating, the Old
-One looked the fellow up and down. "Here," said he, "strike off his
-shackles and send him in with the key." And he threw the fellow the key
-to the locks.
-
-After a while the cook came weakly in and shut the door behind him and,
-throwing the key on the table, fell into a chair.
-
-"Ah," said the Old One, "what is this tale I have heard news of?"
-
-"Water!" gasped the cook. For though he had managed, by pausing at the
-butt on his way, to drink nearly a quart, he had no mind the Old One
-should know of it.
-
-The Old One smiled. "Go, drink, if thy tale be worth it; but mind, if
-I deem thy tale not worth it, thou shalt pay with a drop of blood for
-every drop of water."
-
-The cook shot a doubting glance at the Old One, but went none the less,
-and came back wiping his lips.
-
-"Have at thy tale," said the Old One.
-
-There was a quaver in the cook's voice, for he was by no means sure of
-how great a tale he could make, and the master's face gave him small
-encouragement, for from the beginning of the tale to the end the Old
-One never altered his cold, cruel smile.
-
-"It was the boatswain and young Canty," he said.
-
-"Ah!"
-
-"They was leaning on the forecastle and walking the deck arm in arm and
-talking of one thing and another."
-
-"And what did they say?"
-
-"They talked about some one's slow wit--I could not make sure whose,
-for they scoffed at me bitterly--and Canty was bepuzzled by the
-boatswain's ways, and he wanted him to do something or other."
-
-"Go on." The Old One, grinning coldly, leaned back and watched the
-labouring cook, who wracked his few brains to make a worthier story.
-
-"Nay, but I heard little else. Yet, said I, the master must know at all
-costs."
-
-"What a thick head is thine and how easily seen through and through!"
-The Old One laughed. "Think you all this is worth a second thought? I
-am of the mind to have you skinned and salted. But I forgive you, since
-I have a milkish heart that is easy moved to pity. Get you down to your
-berth and sleep."
-
-The cook departed in haste, but with a fleeting glance at Harry Malcolm
-whom he feared less only than the master. He was aware that for some
-reason he did not understand, his broken tale had served his purpose.
-
-When he had gone the Old One turned about. "You heard him. What think
-you?" said he.
-
-From the great bed in the corner, Harry Malcolm raised his head and
-laughed silently. "Our able cook was hard pressed for an excuse to get
-out of his ankle rings. Did you hear him slopping at the butt the first
-time passing? As for his tale, we know what we knew, and no more."
-
-"'Slow wits'! I wonder."
-
-"At Baracao we shall see," said Harry Malcolm. "Neither one nor a dozen
-can harm us before we raise land."
-
-"And after raising land, which by God's mercy will be soon now, we
-shall see whose wits will nick first when the edges crack together."
-
-The Old One stretched and yawned and Harry Malcolm softly laughed.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV
-
-A LONESOME LITTLE TOWN
-
-
-A light seen in the middle watch gave warning of an unexpected
-landfall, and calling up the Old One, who had a store of knowledge
-gained by much cruising in those seas, they lay off and on until dawn,
-when they made out an island of the Bahamas. It seemed, since by their
-reckoning they were still a day's sail from land, that there was some
-small fault in their instruments; but to this they gave little heed,
-and which island it was and what occasioned the light they never knew,
-though some ventured one guess and some another as they bore past it
-and lifted isle beyond isle. For two days, with the Old One conning the
-ship, they worked their way among the islands, and thus at last they
-came to a deep bay set among hills, which offered a commodious and safe
-anchorage, notwithstanding that on the point that guarded the bay there
-was the wreck of a tall ship.
-
-In the shallop they had taken from the fishing pink, the Old One and
-Jacob, with four men to row them, went out to the wreck and returned
-well pleased with what they had found.
-
-"God is good to us," cried the Old One, perceiving that Harry Malcolm
-waited at the waist for their coming. "Though her foremast and mainmast
-be sprung, yet her mizzen is sound as a nut."
-
-"And is it to be fetched out of her unharmed?"
-
-"Yea, that it is! Come, Master Carpenter, haul out our broken old stump
-of a mizzen. By this time on the morrow our good Rose of Devon will
-carry in its place as stout a stick as man can wish. Faith, the ill
-fortune of them whose ship lies yonder shall serve us well."
-
-There was a great bustle in the old frigate, for work was to be done
-that needed many hands. Some went to the wreck to save masts and spars,
-and others, led by the one-eyed carpenter, toiled to haul out the
-stump. Boatswain Marsham and his mate laid ready ropes and canvas; and
-the most of the company being thus busied with one task or another,
-Martin and the cook caught a store of fresh fish, which the cook--who
-had now become a chastened, careful man--boiled for supper, while
-Martin went onshore for fruit that grew wild in abundance and for fresh
-water from a sandy spring. It was three days instead of one before the
-work was finished; but meanwhile there was fresh food and water aft and
-forward, and having spent at sea many weary weeks, the men rejoiced to
-pass time so pleasantly in a snug haven.
-
-Indeed, a man might have passed a long life in comfort on such an
-island, and there were many who cried yea, when Joseph Kirk declared
-himself for building a town there, to which they might return with a
-store of wives and wines, and from which they could sally forth when
-their supplies of either got low, and get for themselves others out of
-the King of Spain's ships and plantations. But the Old One laughed and
-cried nay. "I shall show you a town," said he, "in a land as fair as
-this, but with houses built and ready for us, and with gold piled up
-and waiting, and with great cellars of wine and warehouses filled with
-food."
-
-So they sailed from the island one morning at dawn and for a week they
-picked their way down the windward passages. At times they lay hidden
-in deep harbours of which the Old One knew the secret; and again they
-stood boldly out to sea and put behind them many leagues of their
-journey. And thus progressing, one night, as they worked south against
-a warm breeze scented with the odour of flowers, they sighted on the
-horizon a dark low land above which rose dimly the shape of a distant
-mountain.
-
-The men gathered about master and mate and Jacob, then Harry Malcolm
-went swarming up the rigging and from the maintopsail yard studied the
-dim bulk of the mountain. After a time he cried down to them, "Douse
-all lights and hold her on her course!"
-
-For an hour they stood toward the land, then Malcolm came down from
-aloft smiling, and there ran through the ship a great wave of talk.
-Though a man had never sailed those seas before, he would not have
-found the reason for their talk hard to guess, since there were few
-secrets on board. Time and distance had made less the grumbling
-occasioned by the disastrous brush with the Porcupine and by the
-littleness of the profit got from the pink, and they had warmed their
-hearts with the Old One's tales.
-
-Bearing to the west, the Rose of Devon skirted the dark shore for
-miles; but the master and mate were growing anxious lest dawn overtake
-them before they should reach the hiding-place they sought; and when
-they rounded a certain wooded point and sailed into a deep, secluded
-bay where a ship might lie for a year unseen,--which put an end to
-their fears,--they let go their anchors with all good will and furled
-their sails; and at break of day they kedged the ship into a cove that
-might have been a dock, so straight were the shores and so deep the
-water.
-
-"Mind you, Ned," or "Mind you, Hal, the night we landed on Hispaniola?"
-the men from the Blue Friggat were saying. And "'Twas thou at my side
-when we stole down through the palms and bottled the garrison in the
-little fort." And "Ah, what wine we got that night!"
-
-"Yea, and how drunk we got! So that Martin Barwick was of a mind to go
-fight a duel with the captain of the soldiers. And then they burst out
-and drove us all away, and there was an end of our taking towns for a
-long, long while."
-
-"I will have you know that I was no drunker than any man else," Martin
-snarled, and they laughed uproariously.
-
-"Come," cried another, "since we have laid our ship in her chosen
-berth, let us sleep while the idlers watch. We shall be off in the cool
-of the afternoon."
-
-"Nay, in the morning!"
-
-"Afternoon or morning matters little," said old Jacob thickly, in the
-corner where he sat watching all the men. "The hour is near when we
-shall lay in the hold a goodly cargo. I know well _this_ town. We need
-only find two more such towns to get the money to keep us the rest of
-our lives like so many dukes, each of us in a great house in England,
-with a park full of deer, and the prettiest tavern wenches from all the
-country round to serve us in the kitchen."
-
-That day, while the men slept in such cool places as they could find,
-the cook and the carpenter stood watch; and a very good watch they
-kept, for they were prudent souls and feared the Old One and dared
-not steal a wink of sleep. But though there was much need that the men
-should sleep, there was small need of a watch, for the ship lay in that
-deep cove in the little round bay, with masses of palms on the high
-banks, which hid her from waterline to truck.
-
-At mid-afternoon, as the Old One had bade them, the cook and the
-carpenter called the men, who came tumbling up, quickly awake and
-breathing heavily, since there was work to be done ere another morning
-broke, and, like enough, blood to be spilled.
-
-From a chest of arms Harry Malcolm handed out muskets and pistols and
-pikes. "This for you," he said--"and this for you--and here's a tall
-gun for Paul Craig. Nay, curse not! Prayers, Paul, shall profit thee
-more than curses."
-
-"I tell ye what, I'll not carry this great heavy gun," quoth he, and
-turned a dull red from anger.
-
-"Blubububububub!" one cried, and all laughed.
-
-"'Tis lucky, Paul," retorted Harry Malcolm, "that Tom Jordan is an
-easy, merciful man, or there's more than one back would bear a merry
-pattern in welts." He took up another musket--cumbersome, unwieldy
-weapons they were, which a man must rest for firing--and handed it to
-another. "And this for you."
-
-Jacob was turning over and over on his palm powder from a newly opened
-barrel, and the Old One was leaning on the quarter-deck rail, whence
-he sleepily watched the small groups that were all the time gathering
-and parting. Will Canty, his face a little whiter than ordinary and his
-hand holding his firelock upright by the barrel, stood ill at ease by
-the forecastle. The boys lurked in corners, keeping as much as possible
-out of the way, but watching with wide eyes the many preparations.
-And indeed it was a rare sight, for the staunch old ship, her rigging
-restored and her many leaks stopped, lay in her little cove where a
-cool breeze stirred the ropes, and the afternoon sun shone through the
-palms brightly on the deck, and the men moved about bare-armed and
-stripped to their shirts.
-
-"It would save much labour," said the carpenter, "were we to use this
-fair breeze to go by sea."
-
-"True, carpenter, but a ship coming in from sea is as easy spied by
-night as by day, whereas a company of men descending from the hills by
-night will have the fort before the watchdogs bark. And who is there
-will grudge labour in such a cause?" The Old One looked about and the
-carpenter himself nodded assent.
-
-Only Paul Craig grumbled, and at him the others laughed as they ate and
-drank.
-
-They slept again till just before dawn, then, running a plank to the
-shore, they gathered under the palms, for there was need of a last
-council before leaving the ship.
-
-"We are forty men," said the Old One, "and forty men are all too few;
-but though it is little likely that any will stumble on the ship in our
-absence, it is a matter of only common prudence that we post a guard
-ere we go."
-
-"Yea, a guard!" cried Paul Craig. "I, now, am a very watchful man."
-
-"Nay, but think, Paul, how great a meal thou can'st eat when thou hast
-climbed up hill and down with thy gun, and how much thou can'st drink.
-'Twould be no kindness to leave thee. We must leave some lithe, supple
-lad who hath no need for the tramp." And the Old One chuckled. "Come,
-Paul and Martin, you shall lead our van."
-
-Harry Malcolm met his eye, and he nodded.
-
-"I name to guard our ship," said he, "the cook and Joe Kirk and Will
-Canty. Do you, lads, load the swivel guns and keep always at hand two
-loaded muskets apiece. Fire not unless the need is urgent, and keep the
-ship with your lives, for who knows but the lives of us all are staked
-upon your watchfulness and courage? You, Harry, since you know best the
-road, shall lead, with Paul and Martin upon either hand; the rest shall
-follow, and Jacob and I will guard the rear." He turned to the three
-who were to stay. "If there is good news, I will send men to bring the
-ship round to the harbour where, God willing, we shall load her to the
-deck with yellow chinks. If bad news,--why, you may see us in one day,
-or three, or five,--or maybe never."
-
-He arched his brows and tossed his piece to his shoulder, and with
-Jacob at his side, he followed the others, who were already labouring
-under the weight of their weapons as they filed up the steep acclivity.
-The Old One and Jacob slowly climbed the wild, rough hill and paused
-until the marching column was out of hearing.
-
-"You are a strange man," said Jacob. "I would wring his neck without
-thought."
-
-"That were a mere brutal jest such as affordeth little joy," the Old
-One replied. "I will wind him in a tangle of his own working, then I
-will take the breath from his nostrils deliberately and he will know,
-when he dies, that I know what I know."
-
-"You are a strange man."
-
-"I can keep order among the gentlemen better than could any captain in
-the King's service; and such a game as this sharpens a man's wits. We
-shall see what we shall see."
-
-Jacob slipped away by himself and the Old One followed his men.
-
-All that morning, unseen and unsuspected, Jacob sat behind a rock
-within earshot of the ship. The palms shielded him and shaded him and
-he got himself into such a corner that no one could approach him from
-behind or see him without being seen. And all that morning he neither
-heard nor saw aught worthy of mark until about noon a voice in the ship
-cried out so that Jacob could plainly understand the words, "One should
-watch from land. Now a man on the hilltop could serve us well."
-
-To which a second voice replied, "Go thou up, Will, go thou up! We are
-of no mind to stir."
-
-There came the sound of steps on a plank, then a rattle of pebbles
-and a rustle of leaves; and Jacob rose quickly and followed at a safe
-distance a man who passed his corner on the way up the acclivity.
-
-Reaching the summit, of the hill, where he was safely out of sight from
-the ship, the fellow--and it was indeed Will Canty--searched the sea
-from horizon to horizon; but Jacob, hunting deliberately as was his
-manner, found a seat a great way off, yet so situated among the trees
-that he could watch without being seen. For an hour he sat thus in a
-niche in the rocks below and watched Will on the flat ledge above; then
-he saw him start up of a sudden and look around him very carefully and
-cautiously, and whip his shirt off his back and wave it in the air.
-
-For a good half-hour Will waved the shirt, stopping now and then to
-rest; but it seemed that nothing came of his waving, for with a sad
-face he put on his shirt and again sat down and presently he returned
-to the ship.
-
-Jacob dozed a while longer where he was, having seen all that; for he
-was a man who could put two and two together as well as another, and
-he had learned what he wished to know. Then he got up, and seeking out
-the place where the Old One and his men had passed, he followed after
-them at a serious, steady gait, which seemed not very fast yet which
-kept plodding so surely up hill and down hill and through gullies and
-over ledges and along beside the sea, that in two hours he had covered
-the distance the others, burdened with guns and pikes and swords, had
-covered in three; and before nightfall, following the marks they had
-left for him, he overtook them resting in a ravine.
-
-Night, which comes so suddenly in the tropics, was about to darken the
-world, when Jacob gave them a great start by walking silently in upon
-them as they sat talking in low voices, with their guns lying by their
-sides and their minds on the work that was before them. He nodded at
-the Old One, who knew well enough what his nod meant, and sat quietly
-down among them.
-
-There was but a small moon, and when at nearly midnight they bestirred
-themselves and ate the last of the sea bread they had brought, the
-light was dim. But their plans were laid and the hour was come and the
-Old One and Harry Malcolm and Jacob knew the ways they were to go.
-
-They were more than thirty, and they straggled out in a long line as
-they climbed the precipitous hill. But those ahead waited at the top
-for those behind and together, marching in close array, they crossed a
-ridge and came into sight of a little town that lay below them among
-hills and mountains.
-
-It was a dark and silent town, whose houses had a ghostly pallor in
-the faint light from the crescent moon, and it lay beside a harbour
-which shone like silver. There were no lights in the houses and in all
-the place nothing stirred; but in the harbour a ship lay anchored,
-concerning which they speculated in whispers.
-
-"The road lies yonder under the rock," said Harry Malcolm.
-
-"And one man has strayed," Jacob whispered. "I will fetch him."
-
-He stepped back the way they had come, and returned with Paul Craig who
-dragged his gun by the muzzle.
-
-The fellow's manner betrayed his cowardice and the Old One pushed the
-point of a knife against his breast. "If again you stray or loiter,"
-he whispered, "this blade will rip you open like a hog fat for the
-killing."
-
-Though the words were uttered very softly, others heard them, and
-Martin Barwick, whose courage was none of the staunchest, rubbed his
-throat and swallowed hard.
-
-"Gold without stint is ours for the taking," said the Old One.
-
-"I have a misliking of yonder ship."
-
-"Nay, she is but one more prize."
-
-They moved down the mountain path toward the town.
-
-"There are twelve houses," said Jacob. "Two men to a house leaves ten
-for the fort." In the dim light he had missed his count, for the men as
-they approached the gate of the village had crowded together.
-
-"No one sleeps in the fort," quoth Harry Malcolm in a low voice. "They
-go to the fort only when they are attacked by dogs of English or wicked
-pirates."
-
-Some one laughed softly.
-
-"Two men to a house," the Old One was saying. "Kill, plunder, and
-burn!" Then as they stood in the very gate a dog barked.
-
-They jumped at the sound, but higher by far did they jump when from the
-ship lying in the harbour there came a loud hail in Spanish.
-
-"Ha! The dogs are wakeful!" the Old One cried in double meaning, and
-with that he plunged forward through the shadows. Though for the most
-part he showed himself a shrewd, cautious man, he was not one to turn
-back when his blood was up; and quicker than thought he had raised his
-voice to a yell:--
-
-"Come, my hearts, and burn them in their beds!"
-
-"Nay, nay!" cried Jacob. "Come back while there is yet time! They
-cannot yet know who we are or from whence we come. Another day, another
-month, will be best!" But they had gone. With a yell the Old One had
-led the way, and they had followed at his heels. Jacob was left alone
-in the dark, and being a rarely prudent man and of no mind to risk his
-neck lightly, he stayed where he was.
-
-As the Old One stormed the first house, there came a shot from the
-darkness and he gave a howl of pain and rage. Turning, Phil Marsham saw
-a stranger cross the road behind him, but he had no time to consider
-the matter, since the first cries had waked the town. A dozen men were
-exchanging musket-shots with the fort, wherein they were folly-blind,
-for their shots went wild in the dark and their guns took a long time
-loading; and the Old One, thinking to further the attack and not
-considering that the light would reveal their whereabouts and their
-weakness, struck fire to dry grass, which blazed up and caught wood,
-but went out, hissing, under a bucket of water from within a house.
-Here a Rose-of-Devon's man took the steel and died, and there another
-went down, hit by a musket-ball. In a lull in the firing--for the
-charges of their guns were soon spent--they heard plainly the sound of
-oars and saw that two boats were bringing men from the vessel in the
-harbour, and from the far side of the place others came charging with
-pikes and swords. In all truth, the town was aroused and the game was
-over, so they took to their heels and ran for their lives, since they
-were outnumbered and outfought and no other course was left them.
-
-All who escaped gathered on the hill, for though a man might wish in
-his heart to leave the Rose of Devon for ever, he could find no refuge
-in the nest of hornets they had stirred to fury, since in the eyes of
-the enemy one must appear as guilty as another. So, leaving ten of
-their number behind them, dead or wounded or captured, every man who
-could walk started back for the Rose of Devon with the thought to cheer
-him on, that after daybreak in all likelihood the howling pack would be
-at his heels.
-
-They bickered and wrangled and cursed, and one whispered to Philip
-Marsham that if they had an abler captain their luck would turn, which
-was a great folly and cost him a broken head.
-
-"That for thy prattle," the Old One cried, for he had been walking just
-behind. And with a club he struck the fellow a blow that sent him to
-the ground. Indeed, the Old One had intended to kill him, and had he
-not been so weary, he would doubtless have stayed to complete his work,
-for his temper was torn to rags.
-
-Uphill and down they went, through thickets and streams, over ledges
-and sandy slides, round dank old fallen logs and along firm beaches,
-back to their dark frigate, with their labour for their pains. And so,
-by broad daylight, weary and hungry and too angry for civil speech,
-they came to the Rose of Devon. The younkers trotted along, dog-tired,
-and the men tramped in as best they could. There were hard words on
-this side and hard words on that, and hands were clapped on knives for
-no cause at all.
-
-They thought it queer, when in the gray morning they came sliding down
-to the ship, with a rattle of pebbles and loose earth, that they found
-her so still, and only the cook on her deck, and himself in a cold
-sweat of fear.
-
-"I would have nought to do with it," he cried, and being still mindful
-of his thirsty hours in bilboes, he shook in his shoes lest they fix
-upon him a share of the blame for that which had occurred in their
-absence.
-
-"With what and whom would'st thou have nought to do?" the Old One
-demanded, and he showed a face that made the cook's teeth rattle.
-
-"With them--they've gone."
-
-"Who hath gone?"
-
-"Will Canty and Joe Kirk. They took the shallop and bread and beer."
-
-"It seems," said the Old One, and in a strangely quiet voice, "that the
-edge that is nicked is not Will Canty's. Is it thine, Jacob, or mine?"
-
-The cook thought that either he or the Old One had lost his wits, for
-he made no sense of the words; but Harry Malcolm and Jacob knew what
-was meant, and Philip Marsham made a sharp guess at it.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI
-
-THE HARBOUR OF REFUGE
-
-
-It was up anchor and away, for they needs must flee ere the hunters
-find them. They stood along the coast with a light breeze in the early
-morning, when the sun was rising over the sea and tipping with gold
-the branches of the dark palms; but the Rose of Devon was a hawk with
-clipped wings.
-
-A company of twenty-nine or thirty men in a staunch ship with a
-goodly number of brass cannon and with powder and balls in abundance
-(which provident merchants had bought to defend their venture against
-pirates!) might have done very well on a merchant voyage or fishing. If
-there are not too many to share in the adventure, a man can earn his
-wages by the one; or if he would go to the banks of Newfoundland or to
-Massachusetts Bay, his lay of a fishing voyage will doubtless bring
-him enough golden chinks to drink in strong ale or sack the health of
-every fair maiden of Plymouth ere he must be off to fill his pockets
-anew. Though the times be ever so hard, he is a feckless sailor who
-cannot earn in such a company the price of drinking the three outs.
-But to work a ship and lay aboard a rich prize, with perhaps need to
-show heels to a King's cruiser or to fight her, is quite another game;
-and the Old One and Harry Malcolm, who had their full share of the
-ill-temper that prevailed throughout the ship, cursed their fortune,
-each in his own way, and wrangled together and quarrelled with the men.
-
-And indeed, among all the men of the Rose of Devon there were only two
-or three who that morning remained unperturbed by their misadventures
-of the night. One was Jacob, who sat in this corner or that and eyed
-all comers coldly and as if from a distance. A second was Philip
-Marsham, who did not, like Jacob, appear to lose his warmer interest in
-the ship and her company, but whose interest had been always less as
-for himself alone.
-
-Meeting in groups of three or five, the men ripped out oaths and told
-of how one captain or another had once taken a ship or a town with
-vast bloodshed and plunder, and thus they stormed about the deck at
-intervals until an hour after sunrise, when Phil from the forecastle
-and Old Jacob from his corner under the quarter-deck, having observed
-them for some time putting their heads together and conversing in
-undertones, heard them crying out, "Yea, yea! Go on, go on! We are
-all with you!" Four of the men then started through the steerage room
-to the great cabin and the rest gathered in a sullen half circle just
-under the quarter-deck.
-
-Jacob raised his head and listened; his face was very thoughtful and
-his small mouth was puckered tight. At the sounds that issued from the
-cabin, Phil himself drew nearer.
-
-"Well," cried the Old One in a voice that seemed as full of wonder as
-of wrath,--they heard him plainly,--"what in the Devil's name mean ye
-by this?"
-
-"We ha' lost a dozen men and our shallop by this foolish march, and
-from this rich town of which you have promised much we have got only
-blows and balls for our labour." The speaker's voice was loud and
-harsh, and he larded his speech with such oaths and obscene bywords
-as are not fit for printing. "We are of a mind to change captains. You
-shall go forward and Paul Craig shall come aft. Speak up, Paul! Tell
-your tale of no marching to wear out a man's feet--"
-
-There came a string of oaths in the Old One's voice and a wild stamping
-and crashing; then out they burst, jostling one another in their haste,
-and after them the Old One with a clubbed musket.
-
-He subdued his fury, when he faced the ring of sullen men, as if he had
-taken it with his hands and pushed it down. But they feared him none
-the less, and perhaps the more. A man looking at him must perceive that
-his mind was keen and subtle, which made his quietness, when he was
-angry, more terrible than a great show of wrath.
-
-"I have sailed before with mad, fickle crews," said he; "yea, once
-with a crew so mad that it would send a gentleman post unto the King
-with a petition of grievances because a King's ship had chased us from
-the South Foreland to the Lizard. But never saw I a more mad crew than
-this, which is enough to give a man a grievous affliction of the colic
-and stone by the very excess of its madness."
-
-"As for madness," cried a man who stood at a safe distance behind the
-rest, "I charge thee with worse than madness. We have lost two fights
-and many men and have got to show for it--a kettle of fish."
-
-Some laughed, but more muttered angrily.
-
-"Why--we have had our ill fortunes. But what gentlemen of the sea have
-not? Come, make an end of this talk. Come out, you who spoke, and let
-us consider the matter. Nay? He will not come, though by his speech he
-is a bold man?"
-
-Again some of them laughed, but in a mean way, for he had cowed them by
-his show of violence and they feared more than ever that subtle spirit
-which over-leaped their understanding.
-
-"Listen, then, my hearts of gold: we will come about and sail back.
-We will lie tonight by the very town that last night we stormed. We
-will seek it out as a harbour of refuge. We will tell them a tale of
-meeting pirates who captured our shallop and part of our men. We will
-give them such a story that they will think we have met the very men
-they themselves last night beat off, and will welcome us with open arms
-to succour our distress. Who knows but that we can then take them by
-assault? Or if for the time they are too strong for us, we will mark
-well the approaches and the defenses, and some night we will again come
-back."
-
-The idea caught their fancy, and though a few cried nay and whispered
-that it was the sheerest madness yet, more cried yea and argued there
-was little risk, for if worst should come to worst, they could turn
-tail and run as run they had before. As they talked, they forgot their
-many woes and whispered about that none but the Old One would ever
-think of such a scheme.
-
-Harry Malcolm and the Old One went off by themselves and put their
-heads together and conversed secretly, and throughout the ship there
-was a great buzz of voices. Only Jacob, who sat in his corner and
-watched now one and now another, and Philip Marsham, who watched Jacob,
-kept silence amidst the hubble-bubble.
-
-So they wore ship, and returning along the palm-grown shores, came
-again at the end of the afternoon into sight of the flat mountain they
-had seen first by night; and though the wind fell away at times until
-the sails hung in listless folds, they gathered speed with the evening
-breeze and came at nightfall into a fine landlocked harbour with the
-town at its head, where there were lights shining from the houses and a
-ship still lying at anchor.
-
-Upon their coming there was a great stir in the town. They saw lights
-moving and heard across the water voices calling; but though the men
-of the Rose of Devon stood by their guns, ready to lift the ports at a
-word and run out their pieces, they laughed in their sleeves at their
-own audacity whereby they hoped greatly to enrich their coffers.
-
-Then one in the fort hailed them in Spanish, and while the Old One
-made answer in the same tongue, those who understood it whispered to
-the rest that he was giving the men in the fort a sad tale of how the
-Rose of Devon had fallen in with a band of sailors of fortune who had
-killed part of her men and would have killed them all had not the Old
-One himself by a bold and clever stroke eluded them. The Old One and
-the man in the fort flung questions and answers back and forth; and as
-they talked, the men at the guns relaxed and softly laughed, and Martin
-whispered to Philip Marsham, "Yea, they are telling of a band of roving
-Englishmen who last night singed their very whiskers; and being clever
-men and learning that them whom we ourselves have met and fought were
-lawless English dogs, they perceive we needs have met the very rascals
-that made them so much trouble." Again Martin listened, then slapped
-his thigh. "They are sending us boats!" he exclaimed. "Though they
-perceive we are English, it seemeth they bear an Englishman no ill will
-because he is English. Truly, a fool shall be known by his folly!"
-
-Most of the men were elated, but old Jacob watched and said nought. His
-black, bright eyes and his nose, which came out in a broad curve, made
-him look like an old, wise rat.
-
-As the boats came over the dark water, with the soft splash of oars,
-there was hurried talking on the quarter-deck, then the Old One came
-swiftly. "Good boatswain," said he, "these foolish fellows have bade us
-ashore to break bread with them and share a bottle of wine. Now I am
-of a mind to go, and Harry Malcolm is of a mind to bear me company. We
-will take twelve men and so arrange it that they shall not surprise us.
-Yea, I am too old a dog to be caught by tricks. It may be we can strike
-them again tonight, and a telling blow. It may be not. But do you and
-Jacob keep watch on board, with every man at his station in case of
-need."
-
-So the Rose of Devon let go her anchors and swung with the tide a
-cable's length from the unknown ship, which lay dark and silent and
-apparently deserted.
-
-The strange boats came up in the shadow of the poop and the Old One and
-Harry, with their men mustered about them, exchanged greetings with the
-oarsmen below, in rough English and in rougher Spanish, as each side
-strove to outdo the other in civility.
-
-The men--heavily armed--slid down into the boats and the Old One
-smiled as he watched them go, for he was himself well pleased with
-the escapade. Such harebrained adventures were his bread of life. He
-followed the men, the cabin lanthorn in his hand, and after him came
-Harry Malcolm, as cool as a man could desire, and watched very sharply
-all that went on while the boats rowed slowly away toward the land.
-
-Then Jacob came out of his corner and spoke to Phil. "I will watch
-first," said he. "The cook hath laid a fine supper on the cabin table.
-Go you down and eat your fill, then come up and keep the deck and I
-will go down and eat in my turn."
-
-At something in the man's manner, which puzzled him, Phil hesitated;
-but the thought was friendly, and he said, "I will not be long."
-
-"Do not hurry."
-
-When Phil turned away, old Jacob cleared his throat.
-
-"Boatswain--"
-
-"Yea?"
-
-"Do not hurry."
-
-As Phil sat at the table in the great cabin, which was so dark that he
-could scarcely see the plate in front of him (although he ate with no
-less eagerness because of the darkness), the planks and timbers and
-transoms and benches were merged into an indiscriminate background
-of olive-black, and there hung before him by chance a mirror on the
-forward bulkhead, in which the reflection of the yellow sky threw into
-sharp outline the gallery door at his back. Having no means at hand for
-striking a light, he was hungrily eating and paying little heed to his
-surroundings, when in the mirror before his eyes, against the yellow
-western sky the silhouette of a head wearing a sweeping hat appeared
-over the gallery rail.
-
-There was not the faintest noise, and no slightest motion of the ship
-was perceptible in the brown stillness of the evening. The head, darkly
-silhouetted, appeared in the mirror as if it were a thing not of this
-earth, and immediately, for he was one who always kept his wits about
-him, Phil slipped silently off the bench, and letting himself down
-flat on the deck, slid back into the darkest corner of all, which lay
-to the starboard of the gallery door. There, without a sound, he rose
-to his feet.
-
-The black silhouette reflected in the mirror grew larger until it
-nearly blocked the reflection of the door, then a board in the gallery
-gently creaked and Phil knew that the man, whoever he was, was coming
-into the cabin. Presently in the subdued light he could dimly see the
-man himself, who stood by the table with his back toward Phil and
-glanced about the cabin from one side to the other. Knowing only that
-he was a stranger and therefore had no right to enter the great cabin
-of the Rose of Devon, Phil had it in mind to jump and seize him from
-behind, for so far as he could appraise the man's figure, the two were
-a fair match in weight and height. But when Phil was gathering himself
-for the leap, he saw in the mirror the reflection of a second head, and
-then of a third.
-
-Again the gallery creaked, for the newcomers, like the first, were
-on their way into the cabin. By the door they stood for a moment
-listening, and in the silence Phil heard a boat gently bumping against
-the side of the ship. He was first of a mind, naturally, to cry an
-alarm; but were he to call for help, he would learn no more of their
-errand. They drew together beside the table and conversed in whispers
-of which Phil could distinguish nothing, although he was near enough
-to reach out his hand and seize hold of the curls and brave hat of the
-nearest of them. To attack them single-handed were an act of plain
-folly, for they wore swords and doubtless other weapons; but when he
-perceived that the first had got out flint and steel, he knew that they
-must soon discover him.
-
-"Whence and for what have you come?" he said in a low voice.
-
-They turned quickly but with admirable composure: there were never seen
-three calmer men. The first struck light to a slow match and held over
-it the wick of a candle drawn from his pocket, upon which the flame
-took hold and blazed up, throwing curious shadows into the corner of
-the cabin and half revealing the hangings and weapons. The man raised
-the candle and the three drew close about Phil and looked at him
-steadily.
-
-"So a watch is set in the cabin, I perceive," the man holding the
-candle said with a quiet, ironical smile.
-
-By mien and speech Phil knew upon the instant that they were Englishmen
-and it took no great discernment to see that they were gentlemen and
-men of authority.
-
-They pressed closer about him.
-
-"Whence and for what have you come?" he repeated.
-
-They made no reply but stood in the brown light, holding high their
-candle and looking him hard in the face.
-
-Again he heard the boat bumping against the side of the ship and
-now the murmur of the wind aloft. Far away he heard a faint sound
-of calling which was growing constantly louder. The three exchanged
-glances and whispering to one another, moved toward the gallery; but as
-they started to go, the one turned back and held the candle to Phil's
-face.
-
-"Of this be assured, my fine fellow," said he, "I shall know you well
-if ever I see you again."
-
-Phil was of a mind to call after them, to pursue them, to flee with
-them; but as it is easy to understand, there were strong reasons
-for his staying where he was, and there had been little welcome in
-their faces. He stood for a moment by the table and noticed that the
-sky in the mirror had turned from a clear olive to a deep gray and
-that the lines of the door and the gallery rail had lost their sharp
-decisiveness and had blurred into the dark background. Then he darted
-out of the cabin through the steerage and called sharply, "Jacob!
-Jacob!"
-
-The men watching at the guns stirred in suppressed excitement and
-turned from whispering uneasily.
-
-"There are strange sounds yonder, boatswain," called one.
-
-"And shall we knock out the ports and loose the tacklings?" another
-asked.
-
-"Be still! Jacob, Jacob!" Phil cried, running up on the quarter-deck.
-
-There was no one on the quarter-deck; there was no one on the poop. The
-wind was blowing up into a fair breeze and small waves were licking
-against the dark sides of the Rose of Devon. But the after decks were
-deserted.
-
-"Jacob!" Phil cried once more, and sent his voice out far across the
-water. But there was still no answer. Jacob had gone.
-
-For a moment the lad stood by the rail and intently listened. The
-calling on shore had ceased, but a boat was rowing out from the town
-and the beat of oars was quick and irregular. Further, to swell his
-anxiety, there was a great bustle on board the unknown ship, which had
-been lying hitherto with no sign of human life.
-
-Then Philip Marsham took the fate of the Rose of Devon in his hands and
-leaned out over the quarter-deck gun. "Holla, there!" he called, but
-not loudly, "Let the younkers lay quietly aloft and lie ready on the
-yards to let the sails fall at a word."
-
-Seeming encouraged and reassured by a summons to action, the younger
-men went swarming up the rigging, and as quietly as one could wish; but
-even the low sound of their subdued voices drummed loud in the ears of
-the lad on the quarter-deck.
-
-Jacob had gone! The boatswain, for one, remembered old tales of rats
-leaving ships of ill fortune.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII
-
-WILL CANTY
-
-
-They saw a boat coming a long way off, with her men rowing furiously,
-but by that time there were all manner of sounds on the shore whence
-the boat had launched forth. Shouts and yells in English and Spanish,
-with ever the booming of guns, echoed across the harbour. Beacons
-flamed up and for a while danced fitfully, only to die away when those
-who tended the fires left them unwatched and with flaming brands joined
-in the cry; and in the wake of the furiously rowing boat came others
-that strove with a great thresh of oars to overhaul the fugitive.
-
-The activity and tumult were very small and faint under the bright
-stars in that harbour girdled about with palms. Though the rugged
-slopes of wild mountains, rising like escarpments above the harbour,
-by day completely dwarfed it, yet the stars made the mountains seem by
-night mere pigmy hills, and even the many sounds, which a great echoing
-redoubled, seemed smaller and fainter in the presence of the vast
-spaces that such a night suggests.
-
-Although the men in the foremost boat rowed out of time and clumsily,
-their fierce efforts kept them their lead, and they were still far in
-advance of their pursuers when they tossed up their oars and crouched
-panting on the thwarts in the shadow of the ship.
-
-"Ropes, you fools!" the Old One called. "Cast us ropes! Ropes! Bind
-fast this bird we've caught and trice him up! Now, my hearts, swing him
-aloft--there he swings and up he goes! Well done! I'll keep him though
-I risk my neck in doing it. Make fast a rope at bow and at stern! Good!
-Every man for himself! Up, thou! And thou! Up go we all! Come, tally on
-and hoist the boat on board! And the men are aloft? Well done, Jacob!
-Haul up the anchor and let fall the courses!"
-
-It was plain from their manner that those who came swarming up
-the sides had a story to tell, but there was little time then for
-story-telling. The pursuing boats lifted their oars and swung at a
-distance with the tide, since it was plain for all to see that they
-were too late to overhaul the fugitives. Although on board the stranger
-ship there were signs and sounds of warlike activity, she too refrained
-from aggression; and the Old One, having no mind to traffic with them
-further, paced the deck with a rumble of oaths and drove the men alow
-and aloft to make sail and be gone.
-
-It was "Haul, you swine!"
-
-And "Heave, you drunken dogs!"
-
-And "Slacken off the weather braces! Leap for your lives!"
-
-And "Haul, there, haul! A touch of the rope's end, boatswain, to stir
-their spirits!"
-
-And "Come, clear the main topsail! Up aloft to the topsail yard, young
-men! A knife, you dog, a knife! Slash the gaskets clear! A touch of the
-helm, there! Harder! Harder! There she holds! Steady!"
-
-Then Harry Malcolm called from the quarter-deck in his quiet, quick
-voice, "The swivel gun is loaden, Tom. I'll chance a shot upon the
-advantage."
-
-"Good, say I!" quoth the Old One. "And if the first shot prove ill,
-amend it with a second."
-
-They saw moving on the forecastle the light of a match, and after such
-brief space of time as a spark takes to go from brace-ring to touchhole
-the gun, which was charged with small shot for sweeping the deck if an
-enemy should board the ship, showered the distant boats with metal.
-They saw by the splashing that the charge had carried well and that
-Malcolm's aim was true, and a yell and a volley of curses told them as
-well as did the splash, which was dimly seen by starlight, that the
-shot had scored a hit.
-
-While a sailor sponged the gun, Harry Malcolm gave a shog to the full
-ladle of powder, and keeping his body clear of the muzzle, put the
-ladle home to the chamber, where he turned it till his thumb on the
-ladle-staff was down, and gave it a shake to clear out the powder, and
-haled it forth again. Then with the rammer he put the powder home and
-drove after it a good wad and in anger and haste called for a shot.
-
-Then the Old One laughed through his teeth. "Go thou down, Jacob,"
-cried he, "and give them a ball from the stern chaser. To sink one of
-those water snakes, now, would be a message worthy of our parting.
-Jacob! Jacob, I say!"
-
-There was no answer from old Jacob.
-
-It was Boatswain Marsham who cried back, "He hath gone."
-
-"Gone?" quoth the Old One. His face, as the starlight revealed it, was
-not for the reading, but despite him there was something in his voice
-that caught the attention of the men.
-
-"Gone?" the Old One repeated, and leaned down in the darkness. The
-shadows quite concealed his face when he was bent over so far that no
-light from above could fall on it, but he raised his hand and beckoned
-to the boatswain in a way there was no mistaking.
-
-In response to the summons of the long forefinger, Phil climbed the
-ladder to his side.
-
-"You say he hath gone," the Old One quietly repeated. "When did he go?"
-
-"I do not know. He kept the deck when I went below for supper."
-
-"How did he go?"
-
-"Nor do I know that. But three men came into the cabin by way of the
-gallery while I was there--"
-
-"Three men, say you? Speak on." The Old One leaned back and folded his
-arms, and though he smiled, he listened very carefully to the story the
-boatswain told.
-
-"And when you came on deck he was gone." The Old One tapped the rail.
-"You have booklearning. Can you navigate a ship?"
-
-"I can."
-
-"Yea, it may well be that now we shall have need of such learning.
-It was an odd day when you and I met beside the road. I shall not
-soon forget that ranting fool with the book, who was as good as a
-bear-baiting to while away an afternoon when time hung heavy. Oft ha'
-we left him fallen at the crest, in the old days when he dwelt in
-Bideford, but Jacob saw no sport in it, nor could he abide the fellow."
-The Old One looked Phil frankly in the eye and smiled. "In faith, I
-had a rare game that day with Martin, whose wits are but a slubbering
-matter at best. But that's all done and away with. And Jacob hath gone!
-Let him go. Betide it what may, there is one score I shall settle
-before my hour comes. Go forward, boatswain, and bear a sharp watch at
-sea, and mind you come not abaft the mainmast until I give you leave."
-
-The Old One spoke again when Phil was on the ladder. "Mind you,
-boatswain: come not abaft the mainmast until I give you leave. I bear
-you nought but love, but I will have you know that in what I have to do
-I will brook no interruption."
-
-Though Tom Jordan had spoken him kindly, the lad was not so blunt of
-wit that he failed to detect suspicion in the man's manner. He stopped
-by the forecastle, and looking back saw that the Old One was giving
-the helmsman orders, for the ship had cleared the harbour, to all
-appearances unpursued, and was again bearing up the coast. The Old One
-then came down from the quarter-deck, and, having spoken to several of
-the men in turn, called, "Come, Martin; come, Paul, bring the fellow
-in."
-
-And with that, he went into the great cabin, where they heard him
-speaking to Harry Malcolm.
-
-As for Martin Barwick and Paul Craig, they went over to where the one
-had all this time been lying whom they had trussed up in ropes and
-hoisted on board. All the time he had been in the ship he had neither
-moved nor spoken, nor did he speak now as they picked him up, one at
-his head and one at his feet, and carried him into the cabin. The door
-shut and for a long time there was silence.
-
-There were some to whom the matter was a mystery, and the boatswain was
-among them; but the whispering and nodding showed that more knew the
-secret than were ignorant of it. The ship thrust her nose into a heavy
-swell and pitched until her yards knocked on the masts; the breeze
-blew up and whipped the tops off the waves and showered the decks with
-spray; the sky darkened with clouds and threatened rain. But in the
-ship there was such a deep silence as stifles a man, which endured and
-seemed--were it possible--to grow minute by minute more intense until a
-low cry burst from the cabin.
-
-The men sitting here and there on deck stirred and looked at one
-another; but Philip Marsham leaped to his feet.
-
-"Sit down, lad," said the carpenter.
-
-"Drop your hand!"
-
-"Nay, it is better that I keep my hand on your arm."
-
-"Drop your hand! Hinder me not!"
-
-"Nay, I am obeying orders."
-
-There came a second cry from the cabin, and Phil laid his free hand on
-his dirk.
-
-"Have care, boatswain, lest thy folly cost thee dear. There are others
-set to watch the deck as well as I."
-
-And now three men who had been sitting by the mainmast rose. They were
-looking toward Phil and the carpenter, and one of them slowly walked
-thither.
-
-Though Philip Marsham had no fear of hard fighting, neither was he an
-arrant fool, and instantly he perceived that he was one man against
-many under circumstances that doubled the odds. His heart beat fast and
-a cold sweat sprang out on his forehead.
-
-"What are they doing to him?" he demanded.
-
-"Nothing that he hath not richly earned," said the man who had come
-near the two.
-
-Scarcely conscious of his own thought, Phil glanced toward the dark and
-distant shore; but, slight though his motion, the carpenter's one eye
-saw it and his none too nimble wit understood it.
-
-"Nay," said he, "it is a mad conceit."
-
-The carpenter thrust his fingers through his beard, and, being a kindly
-soul in his own way and having a liking for the boatswain, he wished
-himself rid of his responsibilities. But since there was no escape from
-the situation he drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders to make
-the best of it. "I heard of a man once, when I was a little lad," he
-said, "who was cast ashore on the main, in Mexico or some such place.
-Miles Philips was his name and the manner of his suffering at the hands
-of the Indians and the Spaniards may serve as a warning. For they flung
-him into prison where he was like to have starved; and they tortured
-him in the Inquisition where he was like to have perished miserably;
-and many of his companions they beat and killed or sent to the galleys;
-and himself and certain others they sold for slaves. So grievous was
-his suffering, he was nigh death when he heard news of Sir Francis
-Drake being in those seas and ran away to join him. Yet again they
-caught him--caught this Miles Philips and clapped him into prison with
-a great pair of bolts on his legs; and yet once more did he escape, for
-God willed it, and filed off his irons and got him away and so betook
-him back to England after such further suffering from the Indians and
-the mosquitoes and the Spaniards and the dogs of the Inquisition as few
-men have lived to tell the tale of. All this, I have heard from an old
-man who knew him, is told in Master Hakluyt's book, where any scholar
-of reading may find it for himself. Though not a man of reading, yet
-have I taken it to heart to beware of straying from a ship into a
-strange land."
-
-Of all the fellow had said Philip Marsham had heard no more than half,
-for the cry that had twice sounded still rang in his ears, although
-since it had died away the second time there was only silence on the
-deck save for the carpenter's rambling talk. The lad's mind leaped
-nimbly from one occurrence to another in search for an explanation of
-the cry.
-
-"Tell me," said he, "what happened on shore?"
-
-At this the carpenter laughed, pleased with believing he had got the
-boatswain's thoughts off the affair of the moment. "Why, little enough.
-They would have persuaded us to leave our weapons at the door, but the
-Old One was too wise a horse to be caught by the rattle of oats. And
-whilst he was ducking and smiling and waving hands with the Spaniards,
-I myself, my ears being keen, heard one cry in Spanish, for I have a
-proper understanding of Spanish which I got by many pains and much
-listening--as I was saying, I heard one cry in Spanish, 'Yea, that is
-he.' And said I to myself, 'Now Heaven keep us! Where have I heard
-that voice?' And then it came upon me and I cried in English, 'Who of
-us knew the dog, Will Canty, could talk Spanish?' Whereat the Old One,
-hearing me, turned and caught a glimpse of Will in the darkness. You
-know his way--a shrewd blade, but hot-tempered. 'There,' cries he, 'is
-my man! Seize him!' And with that I, being nearest, made a leap. And
-they, being at the moment all oil to soothe our feelings and hood our
-eyes, were off their guard. So the Old One, who likely enough had heard
-for himself Will Canty's saying, since he too hath a curious knowledge
-of Spanish, cries, 'Back to the boat, my lads!' For seest thou, if Will
-Canty was pointing out this one or that, there was treacherous work in
-the wind. So down through them we rushed, all together, bearing Will
-with us by the suddenness and audacity of our act, and so away in a
-boat before they knew our thought."
-
-"And who were the other Englishmen?"
-
-The carpenter gave the lad a blank look. "Why, there were none."
-
-Rising, Phil paced the deck while the carpenter and the others watched
-him. Some scowled and whispered suspicions, and others denied them,
-until Phil himself heard one crying, "Nay, nay, he's a true lad. 'Tis
-only he hath a liking for the fellow."
-
-The carpenter neither smiled nor frowned, for though he knew no
-loyalty deeper than his selfish interests, and though he felt no qualm
-regarding that which was going on in the cabin (since he had little
-love for the poor wretch who was the victim), he had a very kindly
-feeling toward those who got his liking; and it sorely troubled him
-that Philip Marsham should suffer thus, though it were at second hand.
-
-"Come, lad," said he, "sit down here and take comfort in the fine
-night."
-
-Laying his elbows on the rail, Phil thrust his hands through his hair
-and bit his two lips and stared at the distant shore of Cuba. He feared
-neither Indians nor insects nor the Inquisition. There were other
-things, to his mind, more fearful than these.
-
-The gasping sound that then came from the cabin was one thing more than
-he could abide. He turned with the drawn dirk in his hand, but the
-carpenter was on him from behind, whispering, "Come, lad, come!" And
-because he could not but be aware of the carpenter's honest good will,
-he could not bring himself to use the dirk, yet only by using the dirk
-could he have got out of the long arms that held him fast. For a moment
-they swayed back and forth; then, when others were hurrying to aid the
-carpenter, the door of the great cabin opened.
-
-A rumble of laughter issued, then the Old One's voice, "Lay him here
-in the steerage and shackle him fast to the mizzen. He may well be
-thankful that I am a merciful man."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII
-
-TOM JORDAN'S MERCY
-
-
-They anchored that noon in a great bay surrounded by forests and
-mountains, which formed a harbour wherein a thousand sail of tall ships
-might have lain. Through the long afternoon, while the Rose of Devon
-swung at her anchor, the wind stirred the palms and a wild stream,
-plunging in a succession of falls down a mountainside, shone like a
-silver thread. But Paul Craig sat guard over Will Canty, who lay in the
-steerage chained to the mizzenmast, and there was no chance for any
-one of the men to speak with Will. And on deck the carpenter measured
-and sawed and planed for his purpose; and having shaped his stock he
-wrought a coffin.
-
-First he threw nails in a little heap on the deck, then, kneeling,
-he drove them home into the planed boards. It was rap-rap-rap, and
-rap-rap-rap. The noise went through the ship, while the men looked at
-one another; and some chuckled and said that the Old One was a rare
-bird; but the Old One, coming out of the great cabin without so much
-as a glance at the lad who lay chained to the mast, stood a long time
-beside the carpenter. He kept a grave face while he watched him work,
-and very serious he looked when he turned away and came and stood
-beside Philip Marsham.
-
-"There are men that would slit the fellow's throat," he said, "or burn
-him at stake, or flay him alive; but I have a tender heart and am by
-nature merciful. Though he broke faith and dipped his hands in black
-treachery, I bear him no ill will. I must needs twist his thumbs to
-wring his secrets out of him and I can no longer keep him about me;
-yet, as I have said, I bear him no ill will. Saw you ever a finer
-coffin than the one I have ordered made for him?"
-
-What could a man reply? Although there had been complaining and revolt
-before, the Old One again held the ship in the palm of his hand, for
-they feared his irony more than his anger.
-
-Darkness came and they lowered the coffin into the boat, whither man
-after man slid down.
-
-"Come, boatswain," said the Old One, in a quiet, solemn voice. "There
-is an oar to pull."
-
-And what could a man do but slide with the others down into the
-boat and rest on the loom of an oar? Phil shared a thwart with the
-carpenter, and raised his oar and held it upright between his knees.
-
-The coffin lay across the boat amidships, and there were four oars,
-two on the one side and two on the other; but a man sat beside each
-oarsman, two more crowded into the bow, and two sat in the stern sheets
-with the Old One. Then they lowered Will Canty to the bottom in front
-of the Old One, where he lay bound hand and foot.
-
-Shoving off from the ship, the oarsmen bent to their task and the Old
-One steered with a sweep; but the boat was crowded and deep in the
-water, and they made slow progress.
-
-Mosquitoes swarmed about them and droned interminably. The water licked
-at the boat and lapped on the white beach. The wind stirred in the
-palms. The great bay with its mountains and its starry sky was as fair
-a piece of land and sea as a man might wish to look upon in his last
-hour; but there are few men whose philosophy will stand by them at such
-a moment, and there is an odd quirk in human nature whereby a mere
-droning mosquito can drive out of mind the beauty of sea and land--nay,
-even thoughts of an immeasurable universe.
-
-The men beat at mosquitoes and swore wickedly until the Old One bade
-them be silent and row on, for although they had come near the shore
-the water was still deep under the boat, which tossed gently in the
-starlight.
-
-A time followed in which the only sounds were of the wind and the
-waves and the heavy breathing of the men. Some were turning their
-heads to see the shore and the Old One had already risen to choose a
-landing-place, when Will Canty--who, although bound hand and foot, had
-all the while been edging about in the stern unknown to the others till
-he had braced his feet in such a way that he could get purchase for a
-leap--gave a great spring from where he lay, and thus threw himself up
-and fell with his back across the gunwale, whence, wriggling like a
-worm, he strove to push himself over the side.
-
-The Old One sprang forward in fury to seize and hold him, and caught
-him by the wrist; but one of the men in zeal to have a hand in the
-affair drove the butt of his gun against Will Canty's chin, and in
-recovering the piece he stumbled and pushed the Old One off his
-balance. So the Old One lost his hold on Will Canty's wrist and before
-the rest knew what was happening Will had slipped into the deep water
-and had sunk. That he never rose was doubtless the best fortune that
-could have befallen him, and likely enough it was the blow of the gun
-that killed him. But the Old One was roused to such a pitch of wrath at
-being balked of his revenge that he was like a wild beast in his fury.
-
-Quicker than thought, he turned on the man who had pushed against him,
-and reaching for the coffin that was made to Will's measure--a great,
-heavy box it was!--raised it high and flung it at the fellow.
-
-It gashed the man's forehead and fell over the side and floated away,
-and the man himself, with a string of oaths, clapped his hand to the
-wound, whence the blood trickled out between his fingers.
-
-"Swine! Ass!" the Old One snarled. "I was of a mind to lay thee in Will
-Canty's bed. But let the coffin go. Th' art not worthy of it." The boat
-grated on white sand, and leaping to his feet the Old One cried with a
-high laugh as he marked his victim's fear, "Get thee gone! If ever I
-see thy face again, I will slit thy throat from ear to ear."
-
-"Nay, nay, do not send me away! Do not send me away!" the man wailed.
-"O God! No, not that! I shall perish of Indians and Spaniards! The wild
-beasts will devour me. Nay! Nay!"
-
-The Old One smiled and reached for a musket, and the poor fellow, his
-face streaked with gore, was overcome by the greater terror and fled
-away under the palms. No shot was fired and neither knife nor sword was
-drawn ere the echo of the fellow's wailing died into silence; but the
-Old One then fired a single shot after him, which evoked a last scream.
-
-"Come, Martin, take the scoundrel's oar," quoth the Old One, and he
-turned the head of the boat to sea.
-
-They said little and were glad to row briskly out to the ship. Action
-is ever welcome at the time when a man desires most of all to get away
-from memory and thought.
-
-That night, when they were all asleep, Martin leaped out on the deck
-and woke them by shrieking like a lunatic, until it seemed they were
-all transported into Bedlam. He then himself awoke, but he would say
-only, "My God, what a dream! Oh, what a dream!" And he would rub his
-hands across his eyes.
-
-The grumblers continued quietly to grumble, for that is a joy no
-power on earth can take away, but there was no more talk of another
-captain. Some said that now the luck would change and told of prizes
-they had taken and would take, and recalled to mind the strong liquors
-of Bideford and the pasties that Mother Taylor would make for them.
-Others, although they said little, shook their heads and appeared to
-wish themselves far away. But whether a man felt thus or otherwise,
-there was small profit of their talking.
-
-For another day and night they lay at anchor and ate and drank and
-sprawled out in the sun. The Rose of Devon, as they had earlier had
-occasion to remark, was richly found, and they had still no need to
-bestir themselves for food and drink. But any man with a head on his
-shoulders must perceive that with old Jacob, who had gone so wisely
-about his duties and had so well held his own counsel in many things,
-the ship had lost something of stability and firm purpose even in her
-lawless pursuits.
-
-And Will Canty, too, was gone! As the old writer has it, "One is choked
-with a fly, another with a hair, a third pushing his foot against the
-trestle, another against the threshold, falls down dead: So many kind
-of ways are chalked out for man, to draw towards his last home, and
-wean him from the love of earth." Though Will Canty had died a hard
-death, he had escaped worse; and as Priam, numbering more days than
-Troilus, shed more tears, so Philip Marsham, outliving his friend,
-faced such times as the other was spared knowing.
-
-Of all this he thought at length, and fearing his own conscience more
-than all the familiars of the Inquisition, in which he was singularly
-heartened by remembering the stout old knight in the scarlet cloak, he
-contrived a plan and bode his time.
-
-In the darkness of the second night, when the Old One had somewhat
-relaxed his watchfulness, Boatswain Marsham slipped over the bow and
-lowered himself silently on a rope he had procured for the purpose,
-and very carefully, lest the noise be heard on board the ship, seated
-himself in Tom Jordan's boat and rowed for shore. An honest man can go
-so far in a company of rogues and no farther.
-
-Reaching the land and hauling the boat up on the beach in plain sight
-of those left in the Rose of Devon, where they might swim for it if
-they would, he set off across the hills and under the palms. Upon
-reaching the height he looked back and for a moment watched the old
-ship as she swung with the tide on the still, clear water. He hoped he
-should never see her again. Then he looked down at the tremulous and
-shimmering bay where Will Canty lay dead, and was glad to plunge over
-the hill and leave the bay behind him.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX
-
-A MAN SEEN BEFORE
-
-
-There was sullen anger and worse in the Rose of Devon when day broke,
-for the boatswain, too, had gone and the boat lay in sight upon the
-beach whereby all might know the means of his going.
-
-One watching from the mountain would have seen the Rose of Devon spread
-her sails and put to sea like a great bird with white wings. But there
-was no one on the mountain to watch, and when the ship had sailed,
-no human being remained to interrupt the placid calm that overspread
-the bay that summer morning. The sun blazed from a clear sky, and the
-green palms rustled and swayed beside the blue water, and in all the
-marvelously fair prospect of land and sea no sign or mark of violence
-remained.
-
-Phil Marsham had gone in the night over the hills and across the narrow
-peninsula between two bays. Though the way was rough, the land was high
-and--for the tropics--open, and he had put the peninsula behind him by
-sunrise. He had then plunged down into a swampy region, but, finding
-the tangle of vines and canes well nigh impassable in the dark, he had
-struggled round it and had again come to the shore.
-
-There, finding once more a place where a man could walk easily, he had
-pressed on at dawn through a forest of tall trees in infinite number
-and variety, with flowers and fruits in abundance, and past a plain of
-high grass of wonderful greenness.
-
-A short time after sunrise he drank from a spring of water and ate
-ship's bread from the small store with which he had provided himself.
-But he dared not linger, and resuming his journey he came upon two huts
-where nets and fishing-tackle were spread in the sun to dry. The heat,
-which seemed to swell from the very earth, by then so sorely oppressed
-him that he stopped for a while in a shady place to rest. But still he
-dared not stay, and although upon again arising he saw that dark clouds
-were covering the sky, he once more stepped forth with such a stout
-heart as had carried him out of London and all the long way to Bideford
-in Devon.
-
-It gave him a queer feeling to be tramping through an unknown land with
-no destination in his mind, yet he vowed to himself that, come what
-might, he would never go back to the Rose of Devon. There is a time
-when patience and forbearance are enough to earn a man a hempen halter,
-and thinking thus, he faced the storm and renewed his determination.
-
-The wind rose to a furious gale; the clouds overswept the sky and
-thunder shook the earth and heavens. The rain, sweeping down in
-slanting lines, cut through the palm leaves like hundreds upon hundreds
-of thrusting swords; and lightning flamed and flashed, and leaped from
-horizon to horizon, and hung in a sort of continual cloud of deathly
-blue in the zenith, blazing and quivering with appalling reverberations
-that went booming off through the mountains and came rolling back in
-ponderous echoes. It was enough to make a brave man think the black
-angels were marshalling for the last great battle; it was such a
-storm as a boy born in England and taught his seamanship in northern
-waters knew only by sailors' tales. The rain beat through the poor
-shelter that he found and drenched him to the skin, and the roaring and
-thundering of the tempest filled him with awe. And when the storm had
-passed, for it lasted not above three quarters of an hour, the sun came
-out again and filled the air with a steamy warmth that was oppressive
-beyond description.
-
-Then the woods came to life and insects stirred and droned, and
-mosquitoes, issuing from among the leaves and grasses, plagued him to
-the verge of madness.
-
-One who has lived always in a land where mosquitoes return each year in
-summer is likely to have no conception of the venomous strength with
-which their poison can work upon one who has not, by much experience of
-their bites, built up a measure of resistance against it. Phil's hands
-swelled until he could not shut them, and the swelling of his face so
-nearly closed his eyes that he could hardly see. When two hours later,
-all but blinded, and thirsting and hungry, he came again to the shore
-and made out in the offing, by squinting between swollen eyelids, the
-same Rose of Devon from which he had run away and to which he had vowed
-he would never return, his misery was such that he would have been glad
-enough to be on board her and away from such torment, though they ended
-the day by hanging him. But the Rose of Devon sailed away over the blue
-sea on which the sun shone as calmly and steadily as if there had been
-no tempest, and Philip Marsham sat down on a rock and gave himself up
-as a man already dead.
-
-There two natives of the country found him, and by grace of God, who
-tempered their hearts with mercy, carried him to their poor hut and
-tended him with their simple remedies until he was in such measure
-recovered of the poison that he could see as well as ever. He then set
-out once more upon his way to he knew not where, having rubbed himself
-with an ointment of vile odour, which they gave him in goodly quantity
-to keep off all pestiferous insects, and on the day when he ate the
-last morsel of the food with which the natives had provided him he saw
-from the side of a high hill a strange ship at anchor in a cove beneath.
-
-Now a ship might mean one thing or she might mean another; and a man's
-life might depend on the difference.
-
-Drinking deeply from a stream that ran over the rocks and through the
-forest, and so at last into the cove, Philip Marsham returned into the
-wood and sat upon a fallen tree. He saw a boat put out from the ship
-and touch on the shore a long way off, where some men left her and
-went out of sight. After an hour or two they came back, and, entering
-the boat, returned to the ship. He saw men working on deck and in the
-rigging; he heard the piping of a whistle, and now and again, as the
-wind changed, he heard more faintly than the drone of insects the
-voices of the men.
-
-Being high above the shore, he found the mosquitoes fewer and the wind
-helped drive them away; yet they plagued him continually, despite his
-ointment, of which little was left, and made him miserable while he
-stayed. He would have hurried off had he dared; but the chance that the
-ship would be the means of saving his life withheld him from pursuing
-his journey, while doubt concerning the manner of craft she was
-withheld him from making known his presence.
-
-In mid-afternoon he saw far away a sail, which came slowly in across
-the blue plain of the sea; and having clear eyes, trained by long
-practice, he descried even at that great distance the motion of a
-heavily rolling ship. From his seat high on the hill he could see a
-long way farther than the men in the ship in the cove, and a point of
-land shut off from them an arc of the sea that was visible from the
-hill; so when night fell they were still unaware of the sail.
-
-Though he had watched for hours the ship in the cove, the runaway
-boatswain of the Rose of Devon had discovered no sign of what nation
-had sent her out or what trade her men followed; but there came a time
-when his patience could endure suspense no longer. He picked his way
-down to the shore, following the stream from which he had been drinking
-during his long watch, and cautiously moved along the edge of the water
-till he came to the point of land nearest the anchored ship, whence he
-could very plainly hear voices on board her. There were lights on the
-stern and on deck, and through an open port he got sight of hammocks
-swinging above the guns on the main deck.
-
-At last he took off the greater part of his clothes and piled them
-on a rock; then, strapping his dirk to his waist, he waded silently
-into the water. Reaching his depth, he momentarily hesitated, but
-fortifying his resolution with such philosophy as he could muster, he
-began deliberately and silently to swim. Letting himself lie deep in
-the water and moving so slowly that he raised no wake, he came into the
-shadow of the ship. It was good to feel her rough planking. He swam
-aft under the quarter, and coming to the rudder laid hands on it and
-rested. Above him he could see, upon looking up, a lighted cabin-window.
-
-His own body seemed ponderous as he slowly lifted himself out of
-water. He raised one hand from the tip of the rudder just above the
-tiller to the carving overhead and got grip on a scroll wrought in
-tough oak. He put his foot on the rudder, and feeling above him with
-his other hand seized fast the leg of a carved dragon. Very thankful
-for the brave ornaments with which the builder had bedecked the ship,
-he next got hold of the dragon's snout, and clinging like a fly, unseen
-and unsuspected, above the black water that gurgled about the rudder
-and the hull, he crawled silently up the stern.
-
-Coming thus to the lighted cabin window, he peeked in and found the
-place deserted. On the table a cloth was laid, and on the cloth such a
-dinner service as he could scarce have dreamed of. There were glasses
-of rare tints, with a few drops of wine left in them, which glowed
-like garnets under the bright candles. There were goblets of silver,
-and even, he believed, of gold. There were wonderfully delicate plates
-crusted with gold about the edges. There was an abundance of silver to
-eat with and a great decanter, wrought about with gold and precious
-stones, such as simple folk might not expect to see this side of Heaven.
-
-At the sound of steps, Phil drew back and hung over the water on the
-great stern of the ship.
-
-A boy came into the cabin and stepped briskly about clearing the table.
-Voices came down from above--and they were speaking in English! What
-a prize she would have made for the Rose of Devon, Phil thought, and
-grimly smiled.
-
-"Boy!" a voice bellowed from somewhere in the bowels of the ship.
-
-"Yea, yea, master," cried the boy, and with that he scurried from the
-cabin like a startled chick.
-
-Phil raised his head and renewed his hold, for he could not cling there
-forever; yet how to introduce himself on board the ship was a question
-that sorely puzzled him. He threw a bare leg over the sill, the more
-easily to rest, and revolved the problem in his mind. They were plainly
-honest Englishmen, and right glad would he have been to get himself in
-among them. Yet if he came like a thief in the night, they must suspect
-him of evil intentions without end. While he thus attacked the problem
-from one side and from the other, it occurred to him that the best way
-was to crawl down again into the water and swim back to the shore from
-whence he had come. There, having donned his clothes, he would call for
-help. Surely there was no one so hard of heart as to refuse a lad help
-in escaping from the pirates.
-
-He raised his leg to swing it out of the window again and put his
-scheme into practice, when he felt--and it startled him nearly out of
-his skin--a hand lay hold on his ankle.
-
-If you will balance yourself on the outside of any window with one foot
-over the sill, you will find it exceedingly difficult to pull your foot
-away from some one inside the window without throwing yourself off the
-wall, and Phil for the moment was reluctant to make the plunge. Slowly
-at first he twisted and pulled, but to no purpose. With waxing vigour
-he struggled and yanked and kicked and jerked, but completely failed to
-get his ankle out of the hand that held it.
-
-It seemed that a gentleman who had been sitting at a little desk, so
-placed that Phil could not have seen it without thrusting his head all
-the way into the cabin, had looked up, and, perceiving to his mild
-surprise a naked foot thrust in through the window, had nimbly arisen,
-and stepping lightly toward the foot, had seized the ankle firmly at
-the moment when Phil was about to withdraw it.
-
-The gentleman marvelled much at what he had discovered and purposed to
-get at the reason for it. Not only did he succeed with ease in holding
-the ankle fast against his captive's somewhat cautious first kicks;
-he anticipated a more desperate effort by getting firm hold with both
-hands, so that when his captive decided to risk all, so to speak, and
-tried with might and main to fling himself free and into the water by
-a great leap, the gentleman kept fast his hold and held the lad by his
-one leg, who dangled below like a trapped monkey.
-
-Very likely it was foolish of Philip Marsham to attempt escaping,
-but as I have said he was of no mind to be caught thus like a thief
-entering in the night, and he was so completely surprised that he had
-no time at all to collect his wits before he acted. Yet caught he was,
-and, for a bad bargain, hung by the heels to boot.
-
-"Boy," the gentleman said, and his voice indicated that he had a droll
-humour, "call Captain Winterton."
-
-The boy, further sounds revealed, who had come silently and in leisure,
-departed noisily and in haste.
-
-Heavy steps then approached, and a gruff voice cried, "What devilish
-sort of game is this?"
-
-"Take his other leg, Charles, and we shall soon have him safe on board.
-I am not yet prepared to say what sort of game it is, beyond saying
-that it is a rare and curious game."
-
-Thereupon a second pair of hands closed on Philip Marsham's other
-ankle, and, would he or would he not, he was hauled speedily through
-the cabin window.
-
-"Young man," said the gentleman who had first seized him, "who and what
-are you, and from whence have you come?"
-
-"I am Philip Marsham, late boatswain of the Rose of Devon frigate. I
-came to learn from what country this ship had sailed and to ask for
-help. I myself sailed from Bideford long since in the Rose of Devon,
-but, falling into the hands of certain sailors of fortune who killed
-our master and took our ship, I have served them for weary months as a
-forced man. Having at last succeeded in running away from them, I have
-come hither by land, as you can see, suffering much on the way, and I
-ask you now to have compassion on me, in God's name, and take me home
-to England."
-
-"Truly," said the gentleman, "those devilish flies have wrought their
-worst upon him. His face is swelled till it is as thick-lipped as a
-Guinea slave's." He spoke lightly and with little thought of Phil's
-words, for his humour was uppermost in him. He was in every way the
-fine gentleman with an eye for the comical, accustomed to having all
-things done for him and as little likely to feel pity for this nearly
-naked youth as to think it wrong that the little cabin boy should stand
-till morning behind his chair, lest by chance, desiring one thing or
-another, he must compromise his dignity by fetching it for himself.
-
-But now the other, Captain Winterton, a tall, grave man, with cold face
-and hard cold eyes, stepped forward, and speaking for the first time
-said: "Do you remember me?"
-
-Phil looked him in the eye and felt his heart sink, but he was no
-coward. "I do," he replied.
-
-Captain Winterton smiled. He was the first of the three men who had
-come on board the Rose of Devon by way of her gallery, and had entered
-the great cabin the night when Phil Marsham sat there at supper.
-
-It then burst upon Phil that in the whole plain truth lay his only hope.
-
-"I ran away from them--they had forced me into their service!--a week
-since. Nay, it is true! I am no liar! And it will pay you well to keep
-a sharp watch this night, for a vessel like enough to the Rose of Devon
-to be her twin is this minute lying behind yonder point."
-
-"Ah! And you sailed, I believe you said, from Bideford. Doubtless you
-have kept the day in mind?"
-
-"Why, 'twas in early May. Or--stay! 'Twas--"
-
-"Enough! Enough! The master of--"
-
-"But though I marked neither the day of the week nor the day of the
-month, I remember the sailing well."
-
-"Doubtless," quoth the captain dryly, "but it will save time and serve
-thy cause to speak only when I bid thee. Interrupt me not, but tell me
-next the name of the lawful master in whose charge thy most excellent
-ship sailed from Bideford."
-
-This keen and quiet captain in the King's service was of no mind that
-his prisoner should tell with impunity such a story as he might make
-up on the moment. Accordingly he proceeded to draw forth by question
-after question such particular parts of the story as he himself desired
-to hear, now attacking the matter from one angle and now from another,
-watching his prisoner closely the while and all the time standing in
-such a place that the lad had no chance at all of escaping through the
-open window.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX
-
-A PRIZE FOR THE TAKING
-
-
-"We shall see," said Captain Winterton, when he had listened to all
-of the tale that he would hear. He turned about. "Boy," he cried, "go
-speedily and send Mr. Rance in to me."
-
-The boy departed in haste and in a moment there entered a junior
-officer, who stared in frank curiosity at the three in the cabin.
-
-"Mr. Rance," said the captain, "go aloft in person to the main truck
-and look about you sharply. Come back and report what you see."
-
-"Yea, yea, sir," the young man replied, and with that he was gone.
-
-The captain stood by the cabin window and frowned. Plainly he had small
-confidence in the good faith of the prisoner and regarded his story as
-at best an attempt to save himself at the expense of his friends. The
-gentleman of the humours, somewhat sobered by the captain's manner of
-grave concern, returned to his desk, but sat tapping his fingers and
-watching Philip Marsham.
-
-It had instantly, of course, dawned upon the runaway boatswain that
-his peril was more serious than he had had reason earlier to believe.
-For supposing the unknown sail should in all truth be the Rose of
-Devon,--and since she was cruising idly thereabouts nothing was more
-probable,--he stood between the Devil, or at all events the Devil's
-own emissary, Thomas Jordan, and a deeper sea than any ship has ever
-sailed: the sea upon which many a man with less plain evidence of
-piracy against him has embarked from a yardarm with a hempen collar
-about his neck and a black cap over his eyes.
-
-Who, pray, would accept for sober truth such a tale as any scoundrel
-would make out of whole cloth to save himself from hanging? Despite all
-he could do or say, he now saw plainly, he must stand convicted, in
-their minds, of being at the very least a spy sent to learn the state
-of affairs on board this tall ship in which he was now a prisoner.
-
-Then back to the cabin came young Mr. Rance and very much excited did
-he appear.
-
-"Sir," he exclaimed, and stood in the door.
-
-"Tell your tale."
-
-"A ship lieth two cable's lengths from land on the farther side of the
-point, and a boat hath set out from her and is following the shore as
-if to reconnoitre."
-
-"Ah," said the captain, "it is quite as I thought. No drums, mind you,
-nor trumpets, Mr. Rance. Call the men to quarters by word of mouth.
-Make haste and put springs on the cables if there be time before the
-boat rounds the point. Bid the gunner make all preparations for action
-and order a sharp watch kept; but order also that there be no sound or
-appearance of unusual activity. Send me a corporal and a file of men,
-and the master."
-
-The gentleman at the desk chuckled.
-
-"Come, boy, clear the table," said the captain.
-
-The boy jumped and returned to his work.
-
-The master came first, but the corporal and his men were close at the
-master's heels.
-
-"Take this fellow to the gun room, clap him into irons, and set a man
-to watch him."
-
-"Yea, yea. Come, fellow, march along."
-
-And thus sending before them Boatswain Marsham, erstwhile of the Rose
-of Devon frigate, the corporal and his men departed from the cabin.
-
-There were guns on the right hand and the left--ordnance of a size to
-sink the Rose of Devon with a broadside. There were sailormen thronging
-between-decks in numbers to appall the young prisoner who came down
-among them nearly naked from his swim. Though no greater of burthen
-than the Rose of Devon, the ship was better armed and better manned,
-and all signs told of the stern discipline of a man-of-war.
-
-The alternatives that Phil Marsham faced, as he sat in shackles with no
-spirit to reply to the jibes of the sailors and watched men stripped to
-the waist and moving deftly among the guns, were not those a man would
-choose. If his old shipmates took this tall and handsome ship, a blow
-on the head and a burial over the side was the kindest treatment he
-could expect of them. And if not--the gallows loomed beyond a Court of
-Admiralty. For hours the hum of voices went up and down the main deck
-and for hours Boatswain Marsham sat with the bolts upon his legs and
-wrists and saw the life of the ship go on around him. The men leaped
-here and there at a word, or lolled by their guns waiting for orders.
-The night wore on, and nodding, Phil thought of the two ships lying
-one on each side of the point of land and by all appearances two quiet
-merchantmen. Yet one, he knew to his sorrow, smelled devilishly of
-brimstone; and the other, in which he now sat a prisoner, though her
-ports were closed and her claws sheathed, was like some great tiger
-watching through half-shut eyes a bold, adventurous goat.
-
-As the night wore on, he dared hope that the reconnoitering boat had
-returned to her ship with news that had sent her away in haste, whereby
-there was a chance that his tale might yet be taken for the truth that
-it was; and the longer he waited the higher rose his hope, and with
-the better reason. But an hour or more after midnight he heard men
-beginning to talk as if there was something new in the wind, and the
-nearest gunner put his ear to a cat-hole.
-
-"The dogs are out; I hear oars," he whispered. "Yea, though they are
-rowing softly, I swear I can hear oars."
-
-A hush came over the ship and those below heard faintly a hail given on
-deck.
-
-Distant sounds came and went like whispers out of the sky, then
-somewhere outside the ship a great shouting arose and one of the men at
-a starboard gun cried gleefully, with a round oath, "Verily they are
-bent on boarding us, lads! Their foolish audacity seasons the term of
-all our weary waiting."
-
-"Hark! They are hailing!" cried another.
-
-"Come, strike your flag. Have an end of all this talk," a distant voice
-called. Whereat Philip Marsham, who knew the voice, thought that though
-their audacity cost him his life it was in its own mad way superb.
-
-The reply was inaudible below, but a boat crashed against the ship.
-
-There was a burst of yelling, followed by a rattle of musketry, then a
-voice boomed down, "Haul up your ports and run out your guns!"
-
-At that the men beside the guns sprang up with running and calling and
-the ports flew open and the sounds from without became suddenly louder
-and clearer. On the one hand were boys handing up filled budge-barrels;
-on the other were gunners with linstocks ready and powder for the
-priming. Then, "Ho, Master Gunner," a great voice roared, "withhold
-your fire! The boats are under the guns and too near for a fair shot!"
-It was such a moment as a man remembers always, for there was the smoke
-of powder in the air, with a din of splashing and cursing, and overhead
-a great hubbub, then silence save for the quick beat of oars.
-
-"See! See!" cried the men. "There go their boats, splintered and all
-but sunk! And see! There go ours! To your oars, lads, to your oars, ere
-their ship hath time to flee! See! There they go! Yea, and there go we!"
-
-The Old One had made his last blunder. He had come by night, thinking
-to board a peaceful merchantman laden with a rich cargo, and had found
-himself at the head of his score of men on the deck of a man-of-war.
-
-To all those below, but most of all to Philip Marsham chained in the
-gun room, it was a blind, confusing affair; but the sounds told the
-story; and though darkness hid the blood that was spilled, there was no
-mistaking the cries for quarter and the shrieks of agony.
-
-Nor was there need for haste to reach the Rose of Devon, since the
-men left as keepers of the ship were too few to make sail. Captain
-Charles Winterton of the King's navy himself boarded the dark frigate
-by starlight, and a capital lark he found it, for behind his stern mien
-was a lively taste for such adventure. With lusty shouting he swept
-the handful of men from her deck, and having put a prize crew and his
-lieutenant in charge of her, he brought back a few more prisoners to
-join company with the luckless boarders he had sent down to be locked
-in irons below.
-
-They were sad and angry gentlemen, for there are those to whom the
-laughter of a hundred sailors is worse than death by the sword. The
-first of them all to enter the gun room was Tom Jordan. His cheek
-was gashed and his hair was singed and blood smeared his shirt from
-shoulder to shoulder and one arm hung limp and broken; but though he
-was in great pain he smiled, and when they led him into the gun room
-and he saw Philip Marsham with bolts on wrists and ankles, he laughed
-aloud.
-
-The fellow was a very mark and pattern of a scoundrel, but he had
-the courage and spirit of a hero, and had he first gone to sea under
-another king than James or Charles he might in some overwhelming danger
-have saved England. Great admirals are made of such timber--bold,
-resolute, utterly dauntless--and any bold man might have fallen into
-the same trap that had caught Tom Jordan. (Nay, had nothing warned
-Captain Winterton or aroused his suspicions, there was a fighting
-chance for Tom Jordan to have taken his ship from him even so.) But
-Tom Jordan had gone to sea in the days when the navy was going to the
-dogs, and, like many another lad of spirit who left the King's service
-to join the pirates, he had adventured with the Algerians before he led
-the gentlemen of Bideford. And at last, hazarding a final effort to
-retrieve his luck, he had unwittingly thrust his head into the halter.
-
-Yet, though they had broken his body, they had failed to touch his
-courage; despite his pain, he could smile and even laugh. Turning his
-great grief into a jest, he cried, "Holla, O bravest of boatswains!
-This is a joy I had not looked for. It seems that, if hang I must, I
-shall not hang alone." And laughing again, right merrily, he swooned
-away, which Captain Charles Winterton, having himself come down with
-the others to see them all shackled, watched with quiet interest.
-
-They brought down the carpenter, who was shaking like a man with an
-ague, and his beard waggled as he shook. They brought down Martin
-Barwick, whose face was drawn and haggard, and his hand rubbed his
-throat, for it itched in a prophetic manner. Then came Harry Malcolm,
-who stopped before Phil and spat at him and cursed him, and Paul Craig,
-who had neither eye nor thought for any one besides himself, and a
-dozen others of whom there was not one that failed to revile at their
-erstwhile boatswain. A hapless time of it Philip Marsham had among
-them, but it added little to his great burden of misery.
-
-Nor, for the matter of that, did reviling content them; for toward
-morning, when the others were dozing, Harry Malcolm, whom they had
-locked to a longer chain, crawled over to where Phil lay and very
-craftily tried to kill him with bare hands. The guard cried out, but
-instead of stopping, the man redoubled his efforts to throttle the lad
-whom he had seized from behind when he was asleep; whereupon the guard
-struck a sharp blow with the butt of his musket, and when the corporal
-had come running and had felt of Harry Malcolm's wrist and had listened
-for his heart and had turned him over on his back, he cursed the guard
-with fluent oaths for robbing the gallows.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI
-
-ILL WORDS COME TRUE
-
-
-To the Isle of Wight, and thence to Spithead and Deptford, came in
-time the Sybil of forty-four guns, Captain Charles Winterton, and
-accompanying her, in the hands of a prize crew, the Rose of Devon
-frigate. There, bundling certain unhappy gentlemen of fortune out of
-the ship, they sent them expeditiously up to London and deposited them
-for safe keeping in the Marshalsea prison, a notable hostelry which has
-harboured great rogues before and since.
-
-In the fullness of time, the Lord High Admiral of England, "who holds
-his court of justice for trials of all sea causes for life and goods,"
-being assisted by the Judge of Admiralty and sundry others, officers
-and advocates and proctors and civilians, was moved to proceed against
-the aforesaid gentlemen of fortune. So they heard their names cried in
-the High Court of Admiralty and were arraigned for piracy and robbery
-on the high seas and charged with seizing the frigate Rose of Devon,
-the property of Thomas Ball and others, and murdering her master,
-Francis Candle, and stealing supplies and equipment to the value of
-eight hundred pounds. Nor was that the whole tale of charges, for it
-seemed that the Lords of Admiralty laid to the discredit of those
-particular gentlemen of fortune numerous earlier misdeeds of great
-daring and wickedness and an attempt to take His Majesty's ship Sybil,
-which had cost the lives of certain of His Majesty's seamen and had
-occasioned His Majesty much grief and concern.
-
-He who read the indictment spoke in a loud and solemn voice, such as
-might of itself make a man think of his sins and fear judgment; but
-they were already cowed and fearful, save only the Old One, who still
-held his head high and very scornfully smiled. The cook bent his head
-and shivered and dared not look the jury in the face. The carpenter
-wept and Martin Barwick was like a man struck dumb and Paul Craig kept
-working his mouth and biting at his lips.
-
-There was a great concourse of people, for who would not seize upon
-the chance to see a band of pirates? But a very poor show the pirates
-made, save the Old One; for though they had talked much and often of
-their valour and had represented themselves as tall fellows who feared
-nothing in life or death, they were now and for all time revealed as
-cowards to the marrow of their bones.
-
-Quietly and expeditiously the officers of the Court swore their first
-witness, who smelled of pitch and tar and bore himself in such wise
-that he was to be known for a sailor wherever he might turn.
-
-To their questions he replied with easy assurance, for he was not one
-of those fellows who cope with great gales and storms at sea only to be
-cowed by a great person on land. "Yea, sir," quoth he, "there is among
-mariners common talk of a band of sea sharks that hath long resorted
-to His Majesty's port of Bideford. Yea, my lord.--And have I met with
-them? That I have, and to my sorrow. This month two years I was master
-in a likely snow, the Prosperous of three hundred tons, which fell
-afoul of that very company, as their boasting and talk discovered
-to us, who took our ship and set me adrift in a boat with seven of
-mine own men, whereby, God being merciful unto us, we succeeded after
-many hardships in winning to the shore of Ireland, whence the Grace
-of Bristol bore us home to England.--The fate of the others in our
-company? In faith, some, I am told, joined themselves with that same
-band of sea sharks. The rest were slaughtered out of hand.--Nay, my
-lord, the night was black and my sight of the scoundrels was brief. I
-much misdoubt if I should know them again."
-
-"Come, come," quoth His Lordship, tapping the papers spread on his
-great table, "look at these prisoners gathered here at the bar and tell
-me if there be one among them of whom you can say, 'This man was there;
-this man did thus and so.'"
-
-So the witness came, with the air of a man who is pleased to be seen
-of many people, and looked them over, one and all; but at the end of
-his looking he sadly shook his head. "Nay, my lord, the night was dark
-and sight was uncertain; and though I should rejoice--none more than
-I!--to see a pirate hanged, I am most loath to swear away the life of
-an innocent man. There is no man here of whom I can truly say I have
-seen him before."
-
-His Lordship frowned and the proctors shook their heads; the prisoners
-sighed and breathed more freely. The tale was at an end, and bearing
-away with him his smell of pitch and tar the fellow returned to his
-place.
-
-Four witnesses were then summoned, one after another, and told tales
-like the first. One had been in a ship that was seized and sunk in
-Bristol Channel; the second had received a gaping wound in the shoulder
-off St. David's Head, and had known no more until he found himself
-alone on the deck of a plundered flyboat; the third had fallen into
-evil company in Plymouth, which beat him and robbed him and left him
-for dead, and from the talk of his murderous companions he had learned,
-before they set upon him that they were certain gentry of Bideford;
-and the last of the four told of the murderous attack of a boarding
-party, which had taken a brig and tumbled him over the side into a
-boat. "Yea, my lord," he cried, "and I fear to think upon what befell
-our captain's little son, for of all our crew only three men were left
-alive and as they sailed away from us three we heard the boy shrieking
-pitifully." One by one the witnesses wove with their tales a black
-net of wickedness, but they could not or would not say they knew this
-prisoner or that.
-
-The Judge frowned darkly from his bench and the people in the seats
-opened their mouths in wonder and excitement at the stories of robbery
-and murder. But the net was woven loosely and without knots, for thus
-far there had been no one to pick out this man or that and say, "It
-was he who did it." So the cook and the carpenter took heart; and the
-colour returned to Martin Barwick's face; and the Old One, leaning
-back, still smiled scornfully. Yet the Judge and the advocates seemed
-in no way discouraged, from which the men of the Rose of Devon might
-have drawn certain conclusions; for as all the world knows, judges and
-advocates with a band of pirates under the thumb are, for the honour of
-the law, set upon making an example of them.
-
-There was long counselling in whispers, then a bustle and stir, and an
-officer cried loudly, "Come, make haste and lead her in."
-
-A murmur passed over the court and the people turned their heads to
-look for the meaning of the cry. Then a door opened and an officer
-appeared, leading by the arm a very old woman.
-
-Phil Marsham felt his heart leap up; he saw Martin raise his hand to
-his throat with a look of horror. But when he stole a glance at the
-Old One, he saw, to his wonder, that the Old One was smiling as calmly
-as before: truly the man was a marvel of unconcern and a very cool and
-desperate rascal.
-
-"Is this the woman?" quoth my Lord the Judge, who raised his head and
-lifted his brows to see her the better.
-
-"Yea, my lord."
-
-"Hm! Let us look into this matter!" There was silence in the room
-except for the sound of shuffling papers. "This woman, commonly known
-as Mother Taylor, is to be hanged this day sennight, I believe."
-
-"Yea, my lord."
-
-"And it hath been suggested that if she can lay before us such evidence
-as is needful, she will be commended to the King's mercy and doubtless
-reprieved from the gallows. Hath all this been made plain and clear to
-her?"
-
-"Yea, my lord."
-
-"Hm! It appears by these papers, woman, that keeping a house to which
-rogues of all descriptions have resorted is the least of your crimes."
-
-A strange, cracked old voice burst shrilly upon the still court. "'Tis
-a lie, my lord! Alas, my lord, that wicked lies should take away my
-good name, and I tottering on the edge of the grave!"
-
-There were cries of "Silence!" And the officer at the old woman's side
-shook her by the arm.
-
-"And to continue from the least to the greatest, you have disposed of
-all manner of stolen goods, and have prepared slow poisons to be sold
-at a great price and have stained your hands with murder."
-
-"Alas, my lord, it is a wicked lie--!"
-
-They shook her into silence, but her lips continued to move, and as she
-stood between the officers her sharp little eyes ranged about the court.
-
-There was further counselling among the proctors, then one cried
-sharply, "Come, old woman, remember that the hangman is ready to don
-his gown, and answer me truly before it is too late: on such and such a
-day you were at your house in Bideford, were you not?"
-
-"Nay, sir, I am old and my wits are not all they were once and I cannot
-remember as I ought."
-
-"Come, now, on such a day, did not a certain man come to your house in
-Bideford and abide there the night?"
-
-"It may be--it may be--for one who keepeth a tavern hath many guests."
-
-"Look about you, old woman, and tell us if you see the man."
-
-"Nay, good sir, my wits wander and I do not remember as I used."
-
-As Philip Marsham watched her hard face, so very old and crafty, he
-paid little heed to the low voices of the proctors and the Judge. But
-the sharp command, "Look this man in the face and tell us if you have
-ever seen him before," came to the erstwhile boatswain of the Rose of
-Devon like the shock of cold water to a man lying asleep.
-
-They led her before Tom Jordan--before the Old One himself--and the two
-looked each other full in the face, yet neither fluttered an eye. In
-all truth they were a cool pair; it had taken a Solomon to say which of
-them was now the subtler.
-
-"Nay, my lord, how should I know this man? He hath the look of an
-honest fellow, my lord, but I never saw him ere this."
-
-Thereupon the officers exchanged glances and the proctors whispered
-together.
-
-They led her before Martin Barwick and again she shook her old white
-head. "Nay, my lord, I know him not." But Martin was swallowing hard,
-as if some kind of pip had beset him, and this did not escape the
-notice of the Court.
-
-Down the line of accused men she came and, though she walked in the
-shadow of the gallows, she said of each, in her shrill, quavering old
-voice, "Nay, my lord, I know him not."
-
-Of some she spoke thus in all truth; of others, though she knew it
-would cost her life, she craftily and stoutly lied. And at last she
-came to Philip Marsham, whose heart chilled when he met the sharp eyes
-that had looked so hard into his own in Bideford long before. "Nay,
-my lord, he is a handsome blade, but I never saw him ere this." Some
-smiled and sniggered; but the old woman shrugged, and lifted her brows,
-and stood before the Court, wrinkled and bent by years of wickedness.
-Say what you will of her sins, her courage and loyalty were worthy of a
-better cause.
-
-In despair of pinning her down, they led her away at last to a bench
-and there she sat with officers to guard her. Now she watched one man
-and now she watched another. Often Philip Marsham felt a tremor, almost
-of fear, at seeing her eyes looking hard into his own. But though of
-the old woman the Court had made nothing, the exultation that showed
-in the faces of some of the prisoners was premature, for the Lords of
-Admiralty had other shafts to their bow, as any gentleman of fortune
-might have known they would.
-
-Again there was a stir among the ushers, and in the door appeared one
-at whose coming Tom Jordan ceased to smile.
-
-The fellow's chin sagged and his eyes were wild and he ducked to His
-Lordship as if some one had pulled a string; and when they called on
-him to give the Court his name he cried very tremulously, "Yea, yea!
-Joseph Kirk, an it please you, my lord!"
-
-"Come now, look about you at these men who are arraigned for piracy.
-Are there any there whom you have seen elsewhere?"
-
-"Yea, yea, that there be! There! And there! And there!"
-
-"Ah! Hm! Men you have seen elsewhere! Tell us who they are." And His
-Lordship smiled dryly.
-
-"It is not to count against me, my lord? I have repented--yea, I have
-repented! 'Twill not undo the King's pardon?"
-
-The very Judge on the bench gave a grunt as in disgust of the abject
-terror the fellow showed, and a murmur of impatience went through the
-room; but though he afforded a spectacle for contempt, they reassured
-him and urged him on.
-
-"Yea, yea! That one there--he at the end--was our captain, and Tom
-Jordan his name. It was he who led us against a vast number of prizes,
-which yielded rich profit. It was he and Harry Malcolm--why, Harry
-Malcolm is not here. Huh! 'Tis passing strange! He hath so often stole
-beside them, I had thought he would hang beside them too. Yea, and as
-I was saying--Let us consider! Yea, yea, it was he and Harry Malcolm
-who contrived the plan for killing Captain Candle and taking the Rose
-of Devon. Yea, they called me apart on the forecastle and tempted me to
-sin and forced me with many threats. He it was--"
-
-Tom Jordan was on his feet. "You lie in your throat, you drunken dog!
-It was you who struck him down with your own hand!"
-
-"Nay, nay! I did him no harm! It was another--I swear it was another!"
-
-"It seems," said His Lordship, when they had thrust Tom Jordan back in
-his seat and had somewhat abated their witness's terror of his one-time
-chief, "it seems this fellow's words have touched a sore. Go on."
-
-"And there is Martin Barwick--nay, hold him! Nay, if I am to go on, I
-must have protection!--and there Paul Craig and there our boatswain,
-Philip Marsham--" And so he continued to name the men and told a tale
-of shameful acts and crimes for the least of which a man is hanged.
-Indeed, Philip Marsham himself knew enough of their history to send
-them one and all to the gallows, but he had not heard a tenth part
-of the story of piracy and robbery and murder and black crimes unfit
-for the printed page that this renegade pirate told to the full Court
-of Admiralty. The fellow made a great story of it, yet kept within a
-bowshot of the truth; but he was a villain of mean spirit and, though
-he did for the Court the work it desired, he bought his life at cost of
-whatever honour he may have had left.
-
-And then came Captain Charles Winterton, who rose, bowing in stately
-wise to His Lordship, and with a composed air and an assured voice
-very quietly drew tight the purse-strings of the net that Joe Kirk had
-knotted. In his grand and dignified manner he bowed now and then to His
-Lordship and to the proctors, who asked him questions with a deference
-in their bearing very different from their way with the other witnesses.
-
-"Yea, these pirate rogues boarded His Majesty's ship Sybil and killed
-three of His Majesty's men before they perceived the blunder they had
-made and gave themselves up.--How many lives did the boarders lose?
-Probably twelve or fourteen. Several bodies fell into the water and
-were not recovered. It was useless to hunt for them, my lord. Great
-sharks abound in those waters.--Yea, this Thomas Jordan led them in
-person. In truth, there is little distinction between them in the
-matter of guilt. The man Marsham, whom the previous witness named a
-boatswain, was the first to board the Sybil. He entered the great cabin
-by way of the stem, apparently to spy out the situation on board. He
-declared himself a forced man who had run away from the pirates. Who
-could say? The situation in which he was taken was such, certainly,
-as to incriminate him; though 'twere cause for sorrow, since he was a
-brave lad and had given no trouble during the voyage home."
-
-There was a great whispering among the people, who thought it was a
-shame for so likely a lad to hang with a pack of pirates. But it was
-plain by now to the greatest dullard among those unhappy gentlemen of
-fortune that hang they must; and for Philip Marsham, who sat as white
-as death from the shame of it, there was no slightest spark of hope.
-The net was woven and knotted and drawn, and the end of it all was at
-hand.
-
-When, according to the custom of the time, they called on Tom Jordan
-for his defense, he rose and said, "Alas, my lord, the ropes are laid
-that shall hang me. Already my neck aches. This, though, I will say:
-whatever these poor men have done, it is I that compelled them into it,
-and I, my lord, will stand to answer for it."
-
-Some gave one defense and some another; and meanwhile there was much
-legal talk, dry and long and hard to understand. And so at last they
-called on Philip Marsham to rise and speak for himself if he had
-anything to say in his own defense.
-
-He rose and stood before them, very white of face, and though his voice
-trembled, which was a thing to be expected since he saw before him a
-shameful death, he told them his true story, beginning with the day he
-sailed from Bideford, very much as I have told it here. But when they
-asked him about affairs on board the Rose of Devon that concerned the
-others and not him, he replied that each man must tell his own tale and
-that though he swung for it he must leave the others to answer those
-questions for themselves.
-
-"Come," quoth His Lordship, leaning forward and sharply tapping his
-table, "you have heard the question asked. Remember, young man, that
-you stand in a place exceeding slippery. It shall profit you nothing to
-hold your peace."
-
-"My lord," said he, "the tale hath been told in full. There is no need
-that I add to it, and were I to speak further I should but carry with
-me to the grave the thought that I had done a treacherous thing. Though
-I owe these men for nought save hard usage, yet have I eaten their
-bread and drunk their wine, and I will not, despite their sins, help to
-hang them."
-
-It was doubtless very wrong for him to reply thus, as any moralist
-will point out, since it is a man's duty to help enforce the laws by
-bringing criminals to justice. But he answered according to his own
-conscience; and after the craven talk of Joseph Kirk, the lad's frank
-and honest statement pleased perhaps even my Lord the Judge, sitting
-high above the court, who frowned because his position demanded frowns.
-Surely loyalty ranks high among the virtues and great credit is due to
-a keen sense of personal honour. But there then came from his talk a
-result that neither he nor any other had foreseen.
-
-Up sprang Tom Jordan. "My lord," he cried, "I pray thee for leave to
-speak!"
-
-To the frowns and chidings of the officers who forced him down again,
-he paid no heed. A tumult rose in the room, for they had hurled the Old
-One back and clapped hands over his mouth; but out of the struggle came
-again the cry, "My lord! My lord!" and His Lordship, calling in a loud
-voice for order and silence, scowled and gave him the leave he asked.
-
-As Martin had said long before, Tom Jordan was an ugly customer when
-his temper was up and hot, but no man to nurse a grudge.
-
-"I thank you, my lord," said he, the while smoothing his coat, which
-had wrinkled sadly in the scuffle. "Though I must hang I desire to see
-justice done. It lay in the power of this Philip Marsham to have added
-to the tale of our sins and the sum of our woes; wherefore, since he
-hath had the spirit to refrain from doing thus, why, my lord, I needs
-must say that he hath spoken only the truth. He was a forced man, and
-having a liking for him, since he is a lad of spirit, I would have
-had him join us heart and soul. 'Tis true likewise that he ran away
-from our ship and turned his hand against us, and for that I would have
-let him hang with these other tall fellows but for the brave spirit he
-hath shown. But as for yonder swine--yea, thou, Joe Kirk! Quake and
-stare!--he hath done more mean, filthy tricks to earn a hanging than
-any other gentleman of fortune, I believe, that ever sailed the seas."
-
-"Not so, my lord!" Joe Kirk yelled. "He fears me for my knowledge of
-his deeds! Help! Hold him--hold him!"
-
-Tom Jordan swore a great oath and Joe Kirk leaped up in his seat, white
-and shaking, and cried over and over that it was all a lie, and there
-was a merry time of it before the attendants restored peace.
-
-And then, to the further amazement of all in the court, Captain Charles
-Winterton again rose.
-
-"If I may add a word, my lord? Thank you, my lord. I observed that when
-the prisoners went below their manner toward this man Marsham was such
-as to lend a certain plausibility to his story. They took, in short, so
-vindictive a delight in his misfortunes that even then it seemed not
-beyond reason that his tale was true and that he had indeed left them
-without leave. That, of course, proves nothing with regard to his being
-a forced man; but it is a matter of common justice to say that, in
-consideration of all that I have seen before and of that which I have
-this day heard, I believe he hath told the truth both then and now.
-Thank you, my lord."
-
-Such a hullabaloo of talk as then burst forth among the spectators, and
-such learned argument as passed between the proctors and the Lieutenant
-of Admiralty and His Lordship the Judge, surpass imagination. Some
-quoted the Latin and the Greek, while others of less learning voiced
-their opinions in the vulgar tongue, so that all in all there was
-enough disputation to fuddle the wits of a mere layman by the time they
-gave the case to the jury.
-
-Then the jury, weighing all that had been said, put together its twelve
-heads, while such stillness prevailed in the court that a man could
-hear his neighbor's breathing. It seemed to those whose lives were at
-stake that the deliberations took as many hours as in reality they took
-minutes. There are times when every grain of sand in the glass seems
-to loiter in falling and to drift through the air like thistledown, as
-if unwilling to come to rest with its fellows below. Yet the sand is
-falling as fast as ever, though a man whose life is weighing in the
-balance can scarcely believe it; so at last the jury made an end of its
-work, which after all had taken little enough time in consideration of
-the matter they must decide.
-
-"You have reached with due and faithful care a verdict in this matter?"
-quoth His Lordship.
-
-"We have, my lord."
-
-"You will then declare your verdict to the Court."
-
-"Of these fourteen prisoners at the bar of justice, my lord, we find
-one and all guilty of the felonies and piracies that are charged
-against them, save only one man." In the deathly silence that fell upon
-the room the name sounded forth like the stroke of a bell. "We acquit,
-my lord, Philip Marsham."
-
- * * * * *
-
-There and then Philip Marsham parted company with the men of the Rose
-of Devon. His hands shook when he rose a free man, and when many spoke
-to him in all friendliness he could find no voice to reply.
-
-Never again did he see their faces, but he heard long afterward of how,
-a week from the day of their trial, they went down the river to Wapping
-in wherries, with the bright sun shining on the ships and on the shore
-where a great throng had assembled to see them march together up the
-stairs to Execution Dock.
-
-Though they had always made themselves out to appear great and fierce
-men, yet on that last day they again showed themselves cravens at
-heart--except Tom Jordan. The Old One, stern, cold, shrewd, smiled at
-his fellows and said, "It is to be. May God have mercy on me!" And
-though he stood with the black cap over his eyes and the noose round
-his neck, he never flinched.
-
-As for Martin Barwick, his face grey with fear, he strove to break
-away, and cried out in English and in Spanish, and called on the
-Virgin. Sadly, though, had he fallen from the teachings of the Church,
-and little did his cries avail him! He came at the last to the end
-he had feared from the first; and his much talk of hanging was thus
-revealed to have been in a manner prophecy, although it sprang from no
-higher oracle than his own cowardly heart.
-
-One told Philip Marsham that Mother Taylor was hanged; another said
-they let her go, to die a natural death in the shadow of the gallows
-that stood by the crossroads in her native town of Barnstable. Either
-tale is likely enough, and Phil never learned which was true.
-
-For aught I know to the contrary, she may have found an elixir of life
-as good as the one discovered by the famous Count de Saint-Germain,
-and so be living still.
-
-Whatever the end she came to, Phil Marsham was far away when they
-determined her fate. For the day he stepped out in the streets of
-London, a free man once more and a loyal subject of the King, he took
-the road to the distant inn where he was of a mind to claim fulfillment
-of Nell Entick's promise.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII
-
-BACK TO THE INN
-
-
-If this were a mere story to while away an idle hour, I, the scribe,
-would tie neatly every knot and leave no Irish pennants hanging from
-my work. But life, alas, is no pattern drawn to scale. The many
-interweaving threads are caught up in strange tangles, and over them,
-darkly and inscrutably, Atropos presides. Who cannot recall to mind
-names and faces still alive with the friendship of a few weeks or
-months,--a friendship pleasant in memory,--a friendship that promised
-fruitful years, but that was lost for ever when a boy or man drifted
-out of sight for one reason or another, and on one tide or another of
-the projects that go to make up life? To Philip Marsham, tramping again
-the high roads of England, there came, mingled with many other desires,
-a longing to see once more the Scottish smith who had wrought the dirk
-that had tasted blood for his protection in those dark adventures at
-sea. But when he came to the smithy beside the heath he found it open
-and empty. The wind blew the door on rusty hinges; brown leaves had
-drifted in and lay about the cold forge; the coals were dead, the
-bellows were broken, and the lonely man who had wrought iron on the now
-rusty anvil had taken his tools and gone.
-
-The day was still young, for the wayfarer, starting early and in the
-fullness of his strength, had this day covered three miles in the time
-that one had taken him when he walked that road before. So he left the
-smithy and pushed on across the heath and far beyond it, marking each
-familiar farm and village and country house, until night had fallen and
-the stars had come out, when he laid him down under a hedge and slept.
-
-He was thinking, when he fell asleep, of Nell Entick. He remembered
-very well her handsome face, her head held so high, her white throat
-and bare arms. He was going back to the inn to claim fulfillment of
-her promise and he pictured her as waiting for him there. In most ways
-he was a bold, resolute youth who had seen much of life; but in some
-ways, nevertheless, he was a lad of small experience, and if he thought
-at all that she had been a little overbold, a little overwilling, he
-thought only that she was as honestly frank as he.
-
-Waking that night upon his bed of leaves, he saw far away on a hill the
-dancing flames of a campfire, concerning which he greatly wondered.
-For, having been long out of England, he had small knowledge of
-the ups and downs of parliaments and kings; and in the brief time
-since his return, of which he had spent nearly all in prison, he had
-heard nothing of the tumultuous state of the kingdom, save a few
-words dropped here or there while he was passing through hamlets and
-villages, and seen nothing thereof save such show of arms as in one
-place or another had caught his eye but not his thought. Although he
-knew it not, since he was a plain lad with no gift of second-sight, he
-lay in a country poised on the brink of war and his bed was made in the
-field where a great battle was to be fought.
-
-He went on at daylight, and going through a village at high noon
-saw a preacher in clipped hair and sober garb, who was calling on
-the people to be valiant and of good courage against those wicked
-men who had incited riot and rebellion among the Roman Catholics in
-Ireland, whereby the King might find pretext for raising a vast army to
-devastate and enslave England. Sorely perplexed by this talk, of which
-he understood little, Phil besought a sneering young fellow, who stood
-at no great distance, for an explanation; to which the fellow replied
-that it was talk for them that wore short hair and long ears, and that
-unless a man kept watch upon his wits his own ears would grow as long
-from hearing it as those of any Roundhead ass in the country. At this
-Phil took umbrage; but the fellow cried Nay, that he would fight no
-such keen blade, who was, it seemed, a better man than he looked. And
-with a laugh he waved the matter off and strolled away.
-
-So to the inn Phil came in due time, having meditated much, meanwhile,
-on the talk of the King and war and the rights of Parliament, which was
-in the mouths and ears of all men. But he put such things out of his
-mind when at last he saw the inn, for the moment was at hand when his
-dreams should come true and he should find waiting for him the Nell
-Entick he remembered from long ago.
-
-Surely a lad of enterprise, who had ventured the world over with
-pirates, could find in any English village something to which he could
-turn his hand. Indeed, who knew but some day he might keep the inn
-himself--or do better? Who knew? He remembered Little Grimsby and drew
-a long breath. Caught in a whirl of excitement that set the blood
-drumming in his ears, he strode into the house and, boldly stepping up
-to the public bar, called loudly, "Holla, I say! I would have speech of
-Mistress Nell Entick."
-
-From a tall settle in the corner, where he sat taking tobacco, there
-rose a huge man with red and angry face.
-
-"Who in the Devil's name art thou," he roared, "that comes ranting into
-an honest house and bawls out thus the name of Mistress Nell Entick?"
-
-There were as usual a couple of countrymen sitting with pots of ale,
-who reared their heads in vast amazement, and in the noisy kitchen
-down the passage a perceptible hush followed the loud words. The house
-seemed to pause and listen; the countrymen set down their pots; there
-was a sound of creaking hinges and of lightly falling feet.
-
-Very coolly, smiling slightly, Philip Marsham met the eyes of the big,
-red-faced man. "It seems," said he, "thou art riding for another fall."
-
-A look of recognition, at first incredulous, then profoundly
-displeased, dawned on the red face and even greater anger followed.
-
-"Thou banging, basting, broiling brogger!" he thundered. "Thou
-ill-contrived, filthy villain! Out the door! Begone!"
-
-"It seems, Jamie Barwick, that thy wits are struck with years. Have
-care. Thy brother is already on the road to Wapping--they have signed
-and sealed his passage."
-
-The fat man came to Phil with the slow gait and the low-hung head of a
-surly dog. He thrust his red face close to Phil's own.
-
-"Yea, it is thou," he sneered. "I am minded to beat thee and bang thee
-till thou goest skulking under the hedges for cover. But it seems thou
-hast good news. What is this talk of the hangman's budget?"
-
-"It is true. By now thine excellent brother hath in all likelihood
-donned the black cap and danced on air. As for beating and
-banging--scratch thy head and agitate thy memory and consider if I have
-given thee reason to hope for quietness and submission."
-
-There was a flicker of doubt in the man's small eyes, whereby it seemed
-his memory served him well.
-
-"And what meanest thou by saying thou would'st have speech of Mistress
-Nell Entick?" he asked suspiciously.
-
-"That concerns thee not."
-
-"Ha!" He scowled darkly. "Methinks it concerns me nearly!"
-
-And then a high voice cried, "Who called my name?"
-
-They turned and Phil Marsham's face lighted, for she stood in the door.
-She was not so fair as he had pictured her--what lad's memory will not
-play such tricks as that?--and he thought that when he had taken her
-away from the inn she need never again wear a drabbled gown. But it
-was she, the Nell Entick who had so lightly given him her promise and
-kissed him as he fled, and he had come for her.
-
-"Back again, John? Nay, John was not thy name. Stay! No, it hath
-escaped me, but I remember well thy face. And shall I bring thee ale?
-Or sack? We have some rare fine sack."
-
-He stared at her as if he could not believe his ears had told him
-right. "I have come," he said, "to claim a certain promise--"
-
-She looked bewildered, puzzled, then laughed loudly. "Silly boy!" she
-cried. "I am these six months a wife."
-
-"A wife!"
-
-"Yea, and mine," cried Barwick. "Come, begone I I'll have no puppies
-sniffling at her heels."
-
-At something in the man's manner, the full truth dawned on Philip
-Marsham. "I see. And you have taken the inn?"
-
-"Yea, that I have! Must I split thy head to let in knowledge? Begone!"
-
-She laid her hand on Barwick's wrist. "The lad means no harm," she
-whispered. "Come, it is folly to drive trade away." And over Barwick's
-shoulder she cast Phil such a glance that he knew, maid or matron, she
-would philander still.
-
-But Phil had seen her with new eyes and the old charm was broken.
-(Perhaps if Tom Marsham had waited a year before he leaped into
-marriage, I had had no story to tell!) All that was best in the father
-had come down to the son, and Phil turned his back on the siren with
-the bold, bright eyes. He turned his back on the inn, too, and all the
-dreams he had built around it--a boy's imaginings raised on the sands
-of a moment's fancy. Nay, he turned his back on all the world he had
-hitherto known.
-
-With a feeling that he was rubbing from his face a spider's web of
-sordidness,--that he was cutting the last cord that bound him to his
-old, wild life,--stirred by a new and daring project, he went out of
-the inn and turned to the left and took the road in search of Sir John
-Bristol.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII
-
-AND OLD SIR JOHN
-
-
-Sir John Bristol! There, gentlemen, was a brave, honest man! A man of
-spirit and of a humour! If you crossed him, if you toyed with him, his
-mirth was rough, his hand was hard, he was relentless as iron. But for
-a man who stood his ground and fought a bold fight and met squarely the
-old man's eyes, there was nothing Sir John would not do.
-
-After all his weary travels by land and sea, Philip Marsham had at last
-come back to find a man whom he had seen but once and for a brief time.
-Yet in that man he had such complete confidence as he had never had in
-any other, and since Jamie Barwick had left the man's service and taken
-the inn--who knew?
-
-Striding over the same rolling country road that he had tramped with
-Martin long before, and coming soon to the park, he skirted it and
-pressed on, keeping meanwhile his eyes and wits about him, until
-he perceived a gate and a porter's lodge. He went to the gate and
-finding it ajar slipped through and made haste up a long avenue with
-overarching trees. A man from the lodge came out and angrily called
-after the intruder, but Phil never looked back. The avenue turned to
-the left and he saw at a distance the great house; he was of no mind to
-suffer hindrance or delay.
-
-The sunset sky threw long, still shadows across the grass, and
-countless wandering branches of ivy lay like a dark drapery upon the
-grey walls of the old house. A huge dog came bounding and roaring down
-the avenue, but when the lad smiled without fear and reached a friendly
-hand toward him, the beast stopped clamouring and came quietly to heel.
-Lights shone from the windows and softly on the still evening air the
-thin, sweet music of a virginal stole over the broad terraces and lawns.
-
-The clamour of the dog, it seemed, had attracted the attention of those
-within, for a grey-haired servant met the stranger in the door. He
-stood there suspiciously, forbiddingly, and with a cold stare searched
-the young man from head to heel.
-
-"I would have speech of Sir John Bristol," said Phil.
-
-The servant frowned. "Nay, you have blundered," he replied haughtily.
-"The servants' hall--"
-
-"I said Sir John."
-
-"Sir John? It is--ahem!--impossible."
-
-"I said Sir John."
-
-The servant moved as if to shut the door.
-
-"Come," said Phil quietly, "enough of that! I will have speech of Sir
-John Bristol."
-
-For a moment the servant hesitated, then from within a great voice
-cried, "Come, Cobden, what's afoot?"
-
-In haughty disapproval of the lad without, the servant turned his back,
-but to the man within he spoke with deference, as if apologizing. "Yea,
-Sir John. The fellow is insistent, but I shall soon have him off."
-
-"Go, Cobden. Leave him to me."
-
-The servant moved away and disappeared.
-
-The virginalling had ceased, and on the lawns and the avenue and the
-park, which stretched away into the dark valley, a deep silence had
-come with the twilight. The sun had set and the long shadows across
-the grass were lost in the greater shadow of evening. As the world
-without had grown darker, the lights within seemed to have grown
-brighter.
-
-"Come, fellow, come into the hall. So! Have I not seen thee before?"
-
-"Yea, Sir John."
-
-"Ha! I can remember faces. Aye, there are few that escape me. Let us
-consider. Why, on my life! This is the lad that gave Barwick such a
-tumbling that the fellow walked lame for a month. Speak up! Have I not
-placed thee right?"
-
-"Though I was faint for want of food, I was quicker on my feet than he."
-
-The old man laughed until his brave curls shook.
-
-"In faith, and it is said with moderation. And what now, lad? What hath
-brought thee hither?"
-
-"Since Barwick hath left your service--"
-
-"That he hath, that he hath!"
-
-"It seemed there might be a place for a keeper."
-
-"For a keeper? Ha, ha, ha! Nay, th' art too spirited a lad to waste
-away as keeper. Mark my word, lad, the King will shortly have need for
-such courageous gallants as thou. Unless I mistake thy spirit, we shall
-soon see thee riding among the foremost when we chase these dogs of
-Roundheads into the King's kennels and slit their noses and prick their
-ears as a warning to all of weak mind and base spirit."
-
-"I have a taste for such sport, and God knows I am the King's man."
-
-"Good, say I!" Sir John's clear eyes searched the frank eyes of the
-lad, and the old man was pleased with what he found. "Come, the cook
-shall fill thy belly and Cobden shall find thee a bed. Cobden! Cobden,
-I say!"
-
-"Yea, Sir John."
-
-"Make place for this good fellow in the servants' hall and see that he
-hath all that he can eat and drink."
-
-"Yea, Sir John."
-
-"But stay a moment. Thy name, fellow."
-
-"Philip Marsham."
-
-"Philip Marsham?" The heavy brows knotted and Sir John spoke musingly.
-"Philip Marsham! I once knew a man of that name."
-
-Silence fell upon the hall. Grey Cobden stood a little behind his
-master, and when Phil looked past Sir John he saw standing in a door
-the tall, quiet girl he had seen with the old knight that day in the
-wood so long since. Doubtless it was she who had played upon the
-virginal. Her dark eyes and fine dignity wove a spell around the lad--a
-spell of the magic that has come down from the beginning of time--the
-magic that is always young.
-
-Take such spells, such magic, as lightly as you please; yet they have
-overturned kingdoms and not once, but many times, have they launched a
-thousand ships.
-
-"Did you ever hear of Dr. Marsham of Little Grimsby?" Sir John asked,
-and he watched the lad very closely.
-
-"Yea."
-
-"And what have you heard of him?"
-
-"He is my grandfather."
-
-"So!" The old knight stepped back and bent his brows. "Verily," he
-said, "I believe the lad hath spoken truth. Go, Cobden. There is no
-place in the hall for this lad."
-
-The servant departed and the girl stepped nearer.
-
-"Your father's name?" Sir John said.
-
-"My father's name was Thomas Marsham."
-
-"Doubtless he bred you to the sea."
-
-"He did."
-
-"He broke the hearts of his father and his mother."
-
-Phil stood silent in the hall and looked Sir John in the eye. Since
-there seemed to be no reply, he waited for the knight to speak again.
-
-"Tom Marsham's father and mother are dead, but within the year, lad,
-they stood where you are standing now. It was the last time I saw them."
-
-What could a young man say? Phil Marsham remembered well the one time
-he had himself seen them. Who knew what might have happened had he
-spoken? But the chance was gone, and for ever.
-
-"There is no place for Philip Marsham in my servants' hall," said Sir
-John. "His father--but no! Let the dead lie. There is no place for
-Philip Marsham in my servants' hall. Under my roof he is my guest."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV
-
-AND AGAIN THE ROSE OF DEVON
-
-
-The story of Philip Marsham and of Sir John Bristol, and of the fortune
-left by the good Doctor Marsham of Little Grimsby,--how it came to his
-grandson and was lost in the war that brought ruin to many a noble
-family,--is a tale that may some day be worth the telling. Of that, I
-make no promises.
-
-The years that followed were wild and turbulent, but during their
-passage Phil chanced upon one reminder and another of his earlier days
-of adventuring. He saw once again the long, ranting madman who had
-carried the great book. He might not have known the fellow, who was in
-a company of Brownists or Anabaptists, or some such people, had he not
-heard him crying out in his voice like a cracked trumpet, to the great
-wonder and admiration of his fellows, "Never was a man beset with such
-diversity of thoughts." There was Jacob, too, who had sneaked away
-like a rat on the eve of the day when Tom Jordan's schemes fell about
-his ears: Phil once came upon him face to face, but when their eyes
-met Jacob slipped round a corner and was gone. He was a subtle man and
-wise, and of no intention to be reminded of his days as a pirate.
-
-Philip Marsham went to the war with Sir John Bristol, and fought for
-the King, and rose to be a captain; and with the story of Philip
-Marsham is interwoven inseparably the story of Anne Bristol and of her
-father, Sir John. For Sir John Bristol died at the second battle of
-Newbury with his head on Philip Marsham's knees; and in his grief at
-losing the brave knight who had befriended him, the lad prayed God for
-vengeance on the Roundhead armies.
-
-And yet, though his grief was bitter, he had too just a mind to see
-only one side of a great war. Once, when they sent him from the King's
-camp on a secret mission, the enemy ran him to cover, and he escaped
-them only by doubling back and hiding in the garret of a cottage
-where he lay high under the thatch and watched through a dusty little
-window the street from the Red Boar Inn down the hill to the distant
-meadows, without being himself seen. He heard far away a murmur as
-of droning bees. Minutes passed and he heard the drone settle into a
-hollow rumble, from which there emerged after a time the remote sound
-of rattling drums and the occasional voices of shouting men. Then, of a
-sudden, there broke on the air a sound as of distant thunder, in which
-he made out a chorus:--
-
- "His staff and rod shall comfort me,
- His mantle e'er shall be my shield;
- My brimming cup I hold in fee
- Of him who rules the battlefield."
-
-The voices of the singing men came booming over the meadows. They were
-deep, strong voices and there was that in their volume and fierce
-earnestness which made a man shiver.
-
-Phil heard a dog barking; he saw a woman standing in the door of a
-cottage; he saw a cloud of dust rise above the meadow; then they came.
-
-First a band of men on foot in steel caps, with their firelocks
-shouldered, swinging out in long, firm strides. Then a little group
-of kettledrums, hammering away in a fierce rhythm. Then a number of
-horsemen, with never a glint of gold on their bridles and never a curl
-from under their iron helms. Then, rank behind rank, a solid column of
-foot that flowed along the dusty road over hillock and hollow, dark and
-sombre, undulating like a torpid stream of something thick and slow
-that mightily forces a passage over every obstacle in its way.
-
-They came up the hill, turning neither to right nor to left, up the
-hill and over it, and away to the north, where King Charles and all his
-armies lay.
-
-It was a fearful sight, for they were stern, determined men. There
-was no gallant flippancy in their carriage; there was no lordly show
-of ribbands and linen and gold and silver lace. They frowned as they
-marched, and looked about them little. They bore so steadily on, they
-made one feel they were men of tempered metal, men of no blood and no
-flesh, men with no love for the brave adventures of life, but with a
-streak of iron in their very souls.
-
-Philip Marsham had heard the men of the Rose of Devon go into battle
-with cries and shouting, and laugh when they killed; he had seen old
-Sir John Bristol throw back his head proudly and jest with the girls of
-the towns on their march; but these were men of another pattern.
-
-He became aware, as he watched them go by--and he then knew the meaning
-of fear, safely hidden though he was, behind the dirty and small window
-in the gable; for had one man of those thousands found him there, it
-would have ended the fighting days of Philip Marsham--he became aware
-that here was a courage so stubborn there was no mastering it; that
-here was a purposeful strength such as all the wild blades in his
-master's camp could never match. Their faces showed it; the marching
-rhythm of the never-ending column was alive with it.
-
-Behind the first regiments of infantry, horsemen came, and, at an
-interval in the ranks of the cavalry, five men rode together. The eyes
-of one, who led the four by a span or two, were bent on the road, and
-his face was stern and strong and thoughtful. As Phil watched him,
-the first hesitating surmisal became conviction, and long afterward
-he learned that he had been right. From his gable window he had seen
-Oliver Cromwell go by.
-
-All that afternoon the column streamed on, and in the early darkness
-Philip fell asleep to the sound of men marching. In the morning they
-were gone, and he went on his way and fulfilled his mission; but though
-the King's men fought with a gallantry that never lessened, the cause
-of the King was lost, and the day broke when Philip Marsham was ready
-to turn his back on England.
-
-So he came a second time to the harbour of Bideford, in Devon, and had
-it in his mind to take ship for some distant land where he could forget
-the years of his youth and early manhood. He was in the mood, then,
-to envy Sir John Bristol and all the gallant company that had died on
-the fields of Naseby and Newbury, and of many another great battle;
-for he was the King's man, and great houses of the country had fallen,
-and many lords and gentlemen whose estates had gone to pay the cost of
-Cromwell's wars had as much reason as he, and more, to wonder, at the
-sight of deep water, whether it were better to die by one's own hand
-or to seek new fortunes beyond the sea.
-
-There were many vessels in the harbour and his gaze wandered over
-them, ships and pinks and ketches and a single galliot from the Low
-Countries, until his eyes came at last to one of singularly familiar
-aspect. He looked at her a long time, then strolled down to the quay
-and accosted an aged man who was warming his rheumatic limbs in the sun.
-
-"What ship is that," said Captain Marsham, "which lies yonder, in line
-with the house on the farther shore to the right of the three trees?"
-
-The aged man squinted over the harbour to pick up the bearings his
-questioner had given him and cleared his throat with a husky cough.
-
-"Why, that," he said, "beës the frigate they call Rose of Devon."
-
-"The Rose of Devon--nay, she cannot be the Rose of Devon!"
-
-"Can and beës. Why does 'ee look so queer, sir?"
-
-"Not the Rose of Devon!"
-
-"Art 'ee addled?" He laughed like a cackling hen. "Aye, an' yon's her
-master."
-
-The master turned when the young captain accosted him, and replied,
-with reasonable civility, "Yea, the Rose of Devon, Captain Hosmer, at
-your service, sir. Passage? Yea, we can take you, but you're a queer
-sort to ask passage ere you know whither she sails. Is it murder or
-theft?"
-
-"Neither. The old order is changing and I would go abroad."
-
-"To the colonies?"
-
-"They tell me all the colonies are of a piece with these Roundheads
-here, and that as many psalms are whined in Boston in New England as in
-all the conventicles in London."
-
-He laughed in good humour. "You are rash," said he. "Were I of the
-other side, your words might cost you your head. But we're going south
-to Barbados, and there you'll find men to your own taste."
-
-Captain Philip Marsham wished no more than that. So he struck a bargain
-for passage, and paid with gold, and sailed from England for the second
-time in the old Rose of Devon, the dark frigate that by God's grace had
-come back to Bideford in the hour when he most needed her.
-
-
-THE END
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE DARK FRIGATE
-
- _By_ CHARLES BOARDMAN HAWES
-
-
-The frigate _Rose of Devon_ rescues from a wreck in mid-ocean twelve
-men who show their gratitude by seizing the _Rose_, killing her captain
-and sailing toward the Caribbean where they hope to plunder Spanish
-towns and galleons. Mistaking an English man-of-war for a merchantman,
-they are captured and brought back to England for trial. Only one,
-an English lad, Philip Marsham, a member of the original crew of the
-_Rose_, is acquitted; and he, after adventures in the forces of King
-Charles, tires of Cromwell's England and sails for Barbados once more
-on the _Rose of Devon_.
-
-"The Dark Frigate" has long been a favorite story for boys and in
-1924 was awarded the John Newbery Medal, given annually "for the most
-distinguished contribution to American literature for children."
-
-When "The Dark Frigate" was first published F. F. Van deWater in _The
-New York Tribune_ said: "No one, we think, has written so perfect a
-pirate tale since 'Treasure Island'."
-
-_With frontispiece in full color by_ ANTON OTTO FISCHER
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE MUTINEERS
-
- _By_ CHARLES BOARDMAN HAWES
-
-
-This rousing pirate story of the Pacific has proved even more popular
-than the author's Newbery Prize-winning "The Dark Frigate." Originally
-published as an Atlantic Monthly Press Book in 1920, it has delighted
-thousands of adventure-loving boys (and girls too!). From the moment
-when young Benjamin Lathrop of Salem signs up with Captain Whidden of
-the _Island Princess_ the reader embarks on a reading voyage of high
-and gleaming excitement.
-
-"There is the atmosphere of the old-time ships and the spirit of the
-sailors of a century ago--such as you find in the pages of Dana and
-Stevenson.... Here is a story that stands out with distinction among
-all the sea stories of many years."--_Boston Herald_
-
-_With frontispiece in full color by_ ANTON OTTO FISCHER
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's The Dark Frigate, by Charles Boardman Hawes
-
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Dark Frigate, by Charles Boardman Hawes
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Dark Frigate
-
-Author: Charles Boardman Hawes
-
-Release Date: December 3, 2015 [EBook #50598]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DARK FRIGATE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
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-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="311" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-
-<h1>THE
-DARK FRIGATE</h1>
-
-<p>Wherein is told the story of <i>Philip Marsham</i><br />
-who lived in the time of King Charles<br />
-and was bred a sailor<br />
-but came home to England after many hazards<br />
-by sea and land and fought for the King at Newbury<br />
-and lost a great inheritance and departed for Barbados<br />
-in the same ship, by curious chance, in which<br />
-he had long before adventured<br />
-with the pirates.</p>
-
-<p>BY CHARLES BOARDMAN HAWES</p>
-
-<p><i>Frontispiece in Color by</i><br />
-ANTON OTTO FISCHER</p>
-
-<p><i>AN ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS BOOK</i><br />
-LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY<br />
-BOSTON</p>
-
-
-<p><i>Copyright, 1923</i>,<br />
-<span class="smcap">By The Torbell Company</span><br />
-(Publishers of <i>The Open Road</i>)</p>
-
-<p><i>Copyright, 1923</i>,<br />
-<span class="smcap">By The Atlantic Monthly Press, Inc.</span></p>
-
-<p><i>Copyright, 1934</i>,<br />
-<span class="smcap">By Little, Brown and Company</span></p>
-
-<p><i>All rights reserved</i></p>
-
-<p><i>Twentieth Printing</i></p>
-
-<p>THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS BOOKS<br />
-ARE PUBLISHED BY<br />
-LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY<br />
-IN ASSOCIATION WITH<br />
-THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY COMPANY</p>
-
-<p>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any<br />
-evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>TO<br />
-GEORGE W. CABLE<br />
-WITH WARM ADMIRATION AND FILIAL AFFECTION</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>From <i>curious old books, many of them forgotten save<br />
-by students of archaic days at sea, I have taken<br />
-words and phrases and incidents. The words and phrases<br />
-I have put into the talk of the men of the Rose of Devon;<br />
-the incidents I have shaped and fitted anew to serve my purpose</i>.</p>
-
-<p>C. B. H.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/front.jpg" width="356" height="500" alt=""/>
-<div class="caption">
-<p><i>With her great sails spread she thrust her nose into the
-heavy swell.</i></p>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p class="ph3">CONTENTS</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
-<tr><td></td><td align="left">CHAPTER</td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Flight</span> </td><td align="right">3</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Leal Man and a Fool</span> </td><td align="right">11</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Two Sailors on Foot</span> </td><td align="right">26</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Girl at the Inn</span> </td><td align="right">35</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Sir John Bristol</span> </td><td align="right">45</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Rose of Devon</span> </td><td align="right">57</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Ship's Liar</span> </td><td align="right">75</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Storm</span> </td><td align="right">83</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Master's Guest</span> </td><td align="right">94</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Between Midnight and Morning</span> </td><td align="right">101</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Head Winds and a Rough Sea</span> </td><td align="right">108</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Porcupine Ketch</span> </td><td align="right">120</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Bird to Be Limed</span> </td><td align="right">137</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Wonderful Excellent Cook</span> </td><td align="right">144</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Lonesome Little Town</span> </td><td align="right">158</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Harbour of Refuge</span> </td><td align="right">171</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Will Canty</span> </td><td align="right">182</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Tom Jordan's Mercy</span> </td><td align="right">192</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Man Seen Before</span> </td><td align="right">198</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Prize for the Taking</span> </td><td align="right">208</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Ill Words Come True</span> </td><td align="right">215</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Back to the Inn</span> </td><td align="right">231</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">And Old Sir John</span> </td><td align="right">237</td></tr>
-<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV </a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">And Again the Rose of Devon</span> </td><td align="right">242</td></tr>
-</table></div>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h1>THE DARK FRIGATE</h1>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br />
-<small>FLIGHT</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>Philip Marsham was bred to the sea as far back as the days when he was
-cutting his milk teeth, and he never thought he should leave it; but
-leave it he did, once and again, as I shall tell you.</p>
-
-<p>His father was master of a London ketch, and they say that before the
-boy could stand unaided on his two feet he would lean himself, as a
-child does, against the waist in a seaway, and never pipe a whimper
-when she thrust her bows down and shipped enough water to douse him
-from head to heels. He lost his mother before he went into breeches and
-he was climbing the rigging before he could walk alone. He spent two
-years at school to the good Dr. Josiah Arber at Roehampton, for his
-father, being a clergyman's son who had run wild in his youth, hoped
-to do better by the lad than he had done by himself, and was of a mind
-to send Philip home a scholar to make peace with the grandparents, in
-the vicarage at Little Grimsby, whom Tom Marsham had not seen in twenty
-years. But the boy was his father over again, and taking to books with
-an ill grace, he endured them only until he had learned to read and
-write and had laid such foundation of mathematics as he hoped would
-serve his purpose when he came to study navigation. Then, running away
-by night from his master's house, he joined his father on board the
-Sarah ketch, who laughed mightily to see how his son took after him, do
-what he would to make a scholar of the lad. And but for the mercy of
-God, which laid Philip Marsham on his back with a fever in the spring
-of his nineteenth year, he had gone down with his father in the ketch
-Sarah, the night she foundered off the North Foreland.</p>
-
-<p>Moll Stevens kept him, while he lay ill with the fever, in her alehouse
-in High Street, in the borough of Southwark, and she was good to him
-after her fashion, for her heart was set on marrying his father. But
-though she had brought Tom Marsham to heel and had named the day,
-nothing is sure till the words are said.</p>
-
-<p>When they had news which there was no doubting that Tom Marsham was
-lost at sea, she was of a mind to send the boy out of her house the
-hour he was able to walk thence; and so she would have done, if God's
-providence had not found means to renew his strength before the time
-and send him packing in wonderful haste, with Moll Stevens and certain
-others after him in full cry.</p>
-
-<p>For the third day he had come down from his chamber and had taken the
-great chair by the fire, when there entered a huge-bellied countryman
-who carried a gun of a kind not familiar to those in the house.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah," Phil heard them whispering, as he sat in the great chair, "here's
-Jamie Barwick come back again." Then they called out, "Welcome, Jamie,
-and good-morrow!"</p>
-
-<p>Philip Marsham would have liked well to see the gun himself, since a
-taste for such gear was born in him; but he had been long bedridden,
-and though he could easily have walked over to look at it, he let well
-enough alone and stayed where he was.</p>
-
-<p>They passed it from one to another and marvelled at the craftsmanship,
-and when they let the butt fall on the floor, the pots rang and the
-cans tinkled. And now one cried, "Have care which way you point the
-muzzle." But the countryman who brought it laughed and declared there
-was no danger, for though it was charged he had spent all his powder
-and had not primed it.</p>
-
-<p>At last he took it from them all and, spying Moll Stevens, who had
-heard the bustle and had come to learn the cause, he called for a can
-of ale. There was no place at hand to set down his gun so he turned to
-the lad in the chair and cried, "Here, whiteface with the great eyes,
-take my piece and keep it for me. I am dry&mdash;Oh, so dry! Keep it till
-I have drunk, and gramercy. A can of ale, I say! Hostess! Moll! Moll!
-Where art thou? A can of ale!"</p>
-
-<p>He flung himself down on a bench and mopped his forehead with his
-sleeve. He was a huge great man with a vast belly and a deep voice and
-a fat red face that was smiling one minute and frowning the next.</p>
-
-<p>"Ho! Hostess!" he roared again. "Ale, ale! A can of ale! Moll, I say! A
-can of ale!"</p>
-
-<p>A hush had fallen upon the room at his first summons, for he had been
-quiet so long after entering that his clamour amazed all who were
-present, unless they had known him before, and they now stole glances
-at him and at one another and at Moll Stevens, who came bustling in
-again, her face as red as his own, for she was his match in girth and
-temper.</p>
-
-<p>"Here then!" she snapped, and thumped the can down before him on the
-great oaken table.</p>
-
-<p>He blew off the topmost foam and thrust his hot face into the ale, but
-not so deep that he could not send Phil Marsham a wink over the rim.</p>
-
-<p>This Moll perceived and in turn shot at the lad a glance so
-ill-tempered that any one who saw it must know she rued the day she had
-taken him under her roof in his illness. He had got many such a glance
-since word came that his father was lost, and more than glances, too,
-for as soon as Moll knew there was nothing to gain by keeping his good
-will she had berated him like the vixen she was at heart, although he
-was then too ill to raise his head from the sheet.</p>
-
-<p>It was a sad plight for a lad whose grandfather was a gentleman
-(although he had never seen the old man), and there had been times when
-he would almost have gone back to school and have swallowed without a
-whimper the Latin and Greek. But he was stronger now and nearer able to
-fend for himself and it was in his mind, as he sat in the great chair
-with the gun, that after a few days at longest he would pay the score
-in silver from his chest upstairs, and take leave for ever of Moll
-Stevens and her alehouse. So now, giving her no heed, he began fondling
-the fat countryman's piece.</p>
-
-<p>The stock was of walnut, polished until a man could see his face in it,
-and the barrel was of steel chased from breech to muzzle and inlaid
-with gold and silver. Small wonder that all had been eager to handle
-it, the lad thought. He saw others in the room furtively observing the
-gun, and he knew there were men not a hundred leagues away who would
-have killed the owner to take it. He even bethought himself, having no
-lack of conceit in such matters, that the man had done well to pick
-Phil Marsham to keep it while he drank his ale.</p>
-
-<p>The fellow had gone to the opposite corner of the room and had taken a
-deep seat just beneath the three long shelves on which stood the three
-rows of fine platters that were the pride of Moll Stevens's heart.</p>
-
-<p>The platters caught the lad's eye and, raising the gun, he presented
-it at the uppermost row. Supposing it were loaded and primed, he
-thought, what a stir and clatter it would make to fire the charge! He
-smiled, cocked the gun, and rested his finger on the trigger; but he
-was over weak to hold the gun steady. As he let the muzzle fall, his
-hand slipped. His throat tightened like a cramp. His hair, he verily
-believed, rose on end. The gun&mdash;primed or no&mdash;went off.</p>
-
-<p>He had so far lowered the muzzle that not a shot struck the topmost
-row of platters, but of the second lower row, not one platter was
-left standing. The splinters flew in a shower over the whole room,
-and a dozen stray shots&mdash;for the gun was charged to shoot small
-birds&mdash;peppered the fat man about the face and ear. Worst of all, by
-far, to make good measure of the clatter and clamour, the great mass of
-the charge, which by grace of God avoided the fat man's head although
-the wind of it raised his hair, struck fairly a butt of Moll Stevens's
-richest sack, which six men had raised on a frame to make easier the
-labour of drawing from it, and shattered a stave so that the goodly
-wine poured out as if a greater than Moses had smitten a rock with his
-staff.</p>
-
-<p>Of all in the room, mind you, none was more amazed than Philip Marsham,
-and indeed for a moment his wits were quite numb. He sat with the gun
-in his hands, which was still smoking to show who had done the wicked
-deed, and stared at the splintered platters and at the countryman's
-furious face, on which rivulets of blood were trickling down, and at
-the gurgling flood of wine that was belching out on Moll Stevens's
-dirty floor.</p>
-
-<p>Then in rushed Moll herself with such a face that he hoped never to
-see the like again. She swept the room at a single glance and bawling,
-"As I live, 't is that tike, Philip Marsham! Paddock! Hound! Devil's
-imp!"&mdash;at him she came, a billet of Flanders brick in her hand.</p>
-
-<p>He was of no mind to try the quality of her scouring, for although she
-knew not the meaning of a clean house, she was a brawny wench and her
-hand and her brick were as rough as her tongue. Further, he perceived
-that there were others to reckon with, for the countryman was on his
-feet with a murderous look in his eye and there were six besides him
-who had started up. Although Phil had little wish to play hare to their
-hounds, since the fever had left him fit for neither fighting nor
-running, there was urgent need that he act soon and to a purpose, for
-Moll and her Flanders brick were upon him.</p>
-
-<p>Warmed by the smell of the good wine run to waste, and marvellously
-strengthened by the danger of bodily harm if once they laid hands on
-him, he got out of the great chair as nimbly as if he had not spent
-three weeks in bed, and, turning like a fox, slipped through the door.</p>
-
-<p>God was good to Philip Marsham, for the gun, as he dropped it,
-tripped Moll Stevens and sent her sprawling on the threshold; the fat
-countryman, thinking more of his property than his injury, stooped for
-the gun; and those two so filled the door that the six were stoppered
-in the alehouse until with the whoo-bub ringing in his ears Phil had
-got him out of sight. He had the craft, though they then came after him
-like hounds let slip, to turn aside and take to earth in a trench hard
-by, and to lie in hiding there until the hue and cry had come and gone.
-In faith, he had neither the wind nor the strength to run farther.</p>
-
-<p>It was "Stop thief!"&mdash;"Murder's done!"&mdash;"Attach the knave!"&mdash;"Help!
-Help!"</p>
-
-<p>Who had dug the trench that was his hiding-place he never knew, but it
-lay not a furlong from the alehouse door, and as he tumbled into it and
-sprawled flat on the wet earth he gave the man an orphan's blessing.
-The hue and cry passed him and went racing down the river; and when
-the yells had grown fainter, and at last had died quite away, he got
-up out of the trench and walked as fast as he could in the opposite
-direction, stopping often to rest, until he had left Moll Stevens's
-alehouse a good mile behind him. He passed a parish beadle, but the
-fellow gave him not a single glance; he passed the crier calling for
-sale the household goods of a man who desired to take his fortune and
-depart for New England, and the crier (who, one would suppose, knew
-everything of the public weal) brushed his coat but hindered him not.
-In the space of a single furlong he met two Puritans on foot, without
-enough hair to cover their ears, and two fine gentlemen on horseback
-whose curls flowed to their shoulders; but neither one nor other gave
-him let. The rabble of higglers and waggoners from the alehouse, headed
-by the countryman, Jamie Barwick, and by Moll Stevens herself, had
-raced far down the river, and Phil Marsham was free to go wherever else
-his discretion bade him.</p>
-
-<p>Now it would have been his second nature to have fled to the docks,
-for he was bred a sailor and could haul and reef and steer with any
-man; but they whom he had no wish to meet had gone that way and in
-his weakness it had been worse than folly to beard them. His patrimony
-was forfeit, for although his father had left him a bag of silver, it
-lay in his chest in Moll Stevens's alehouse, and for fear of hanging
-he dared not go back after it. She was a vindictive shrew and would
-have taken his heart's blood to pay him for his blunder. His father was
-gone and the ketch with him, and, save for a handful of silver the lad
-had about him, he was penniless. So what would a sailor do, think you,
-orphaned and penniless and cut off from the sea, but set himself up for
-a farmer? Phil clapped his hand on his thigh and quietly laughed. That
-a man needed money and skill for husbandry never entered his foolish
-head. Were not husbandmen all fond fellows whom a lively sailor man
-might fleer as he pleased? Nay, they knew not so much as one rope from
-another. Why, then, he would go into the country and set him up as a
-kind of prince among husbandmen, who had, by all reports, plenty of
-good nappy liquor to drink and bread and cheese and meat to eat.</p>
-
-<p>With that he turned his back on the sea and London and on Moll Stevens,
-whom he never saw again. His trafficking with her was well ended, and
-as well ended his father's affair, in my belief; for the woman had a
-bitter temper and a sharp tongue, and there are worse things for a
-free-hearted, jovial man such as Tom Marsham was, than drowning. The
-son owed her nought that the bag in his chest would not repay many
-times over, so he set out with all good courage and with the handful of
-silver that chanced to be in his pocket and, though his legs were weak
-and he must stop often to rest, by nightfall he had gone miles upon his
-way.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br />
-<small>A LEAL MAN AND A FOOL</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>Clouds obscured the sun and a gusty wind set the road-side grasses
-nodding and rustled the leaves of oak and ash. Phil passed between
-green fields into a neat village, where men and women turned to
-look after him as he went, and on into open country, where he came
-at last to a great estate and a porter's lodge and sat him down and
-rested. There was a hoarse clamour from a distant rookery, and the
-wind whispered in two pine trees that grew beside the lodge where a
-gentleman of curious tastes had planted them. A few drops of rain,
-beating on the road and rattling on the leaves of a great oak,
-increased the loneliness that beset him. Where he should lie the night
-he had no notion, or whence his supper was to come; but the shower blew
-past and he pressed on till he came to a little hamlet on the border of
-a heath, where there was a smithy, with a silent man standing by the
-door.</p>
-
-<p>As he passed the smithy the lad stumbled.</p>
-
-<p>The man looked hard at him as if suspecting some trickery; but when
-Phil was about to press on without a word the man asked in a low voice,
-who the de'il gaed yonder on sic like e'en and at sic like hoddin' gait.</p>
-
-<p>At this Phil sat down on a stone, for his weakness had grown on him
-sorely, and replied that whither he was going he neither knew nor
-cared. Whereupon the man, whom he knew by his tongue to be a Scot,
-cried out, "Hech! The lad's falling!" And catching the youth by the
-arm, he lifted him off the stone and led him into the smithy.</p>
-
-<p>Phil found himself in a chair with straight back and sides, but with
-seat and backing woven of broad, loose straps, which seemed as easy as
-the best goose-feathers. "It is nought," he said. "A spell of faintness
-caught me. I'll be going; I must find an inn; I'll be going now."</p>
-
-<p>"Be still. Ye'll na be off sae soon."</p>
-
-<p>The man thrust a splinter of wood into the coals, and lighting
-therewith a candle in a lanthorn, he began rummaging in a cupboard
-behind the forge, whence he drew out a quarter loaf, a plate of cheese,
-a jug, and a deep dish in which there was the half of a meat pie.
-Placing before his guest a table of rough boards blackened with smoke,
-a great spoon, and a pint pot, he poured from the jug a brimming potful
-of cider, boiled with good spices and fermented with yeast.</p>
-
-<p>"A wee healsome drappy," said he, "an' then the guid vittle. Dinna be
-laithfu'."</p>
-
-<p>Raising the pot to his lips the lad drank deep and became aware he was
-famished for food, although he had not until then thought of hunger. As
-he ate, the quarter loaf, the cheese, and the half of a meat pie fell
-victims to his trenchering, and though his host plied the jug to fill
-his cup, when at last he leaned back he had left no morsel of food nor
-drop of drink.</p>
-
-<p>Now, for the first time, he looked about him and gave heed to the
-smoking lanthorn, the dull glow of the dying sea-coals in the forge,
-the stern face of the smith who sat opposite him, and the dark recesses
-of the smithy. Outside was a driving rain and the screech of a gusty
-wind.</p>
-
-<p>It was strange, he thought, that after all his doubts, he was well fed
-and dry and warm. The rain rattled against the walls of the smithy
-and the wind howled. Only to hear the storm was enough to make a man
-shiver, but warmed by the fire in the forge the lad smiled and nodded.
-In a moment he was asleep.</p>
-
-<p>"Cam' ye far?" his host asked in a rough voice.</p>
-
-<p>The lad woke with a start. "From London," he said and again he nodded.</p>
-
-<p>The man ran his fingers through his red beard. "God forgie us!" he
-whispered. "The laddie ha grapit a' the way frae Lon'on."</p>
-
-<p>He got up from his chair and led Phil to a kind of bed in the darkest
-corner, behind the forge, and covered him and left him there. Going to
-the door he looked out into the rain and stood so for a long time.</p>
-
-<p>Two boys, scurrying past in the rain, saw him standing there against
-the dim light of the lanthorn, and hooted in derision. The wind swept
-away their voices so that the words were lost, but one stooped and,
-picking up a stone, flung it at the smithy. It struck the lintel above
-the man's head and the boys with a squeal of glee vanished into the
-rain and darkness. The blood rushed to the man's face and his hand
-slipped under the great leathern apron that he wore.</p>
-
-<p>By morning the storm was gone. The air was clean and cool, and though
-puddles of water stood by the way, the road had so far dried as to give
-good footing. All this Philip Marsham saw through the smithy door, upon
-waking, as he raised himself on his elbow.</p>
-
-<p>He had slept that night with his head behind the cupboard and with his
-feet under the great bellows of the forge, so narrow was the space in
-which the smith had built the cot; and where his host had himself
-slept there was no sign.</p>
-
-<p>The smith now stood in the door. "Na, na," he was saying, "'tis pitch
-an' pay&mdash;siller or nought. For the ance ye hae very foully deceived me.
-Ye shall hence-forth hae my wark for siller; or, an ye like&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>A volley of rough laughter came booming into the smithy, and then a
-clatter of hoofs as the man without rode away; but the face of the
-smith was hot as flame when he turned to the forge, and, as he thrust
-his fingers through his red beard, an angry light was in his eyes.
-Reaching for the handle of the bellows, he blew the fire so fiercely
-that the rockstaff and the whole frame swayed and creaked. He then took
-up a bar of metal and, breaking it on the anvil with a great blow of
-the up-hand sledge, studied the grey surface and smiled. He thrust the
-bar into the white coals and with the slicer he clapped the coals about
-it.</p>
-
-<p>Now drawing out the bar a little way to see how it was taking its heat,
-and now thrusting it quickly back again, he brought it to the colour
-of white flame, and, snatching it out with his pliers and laying it on
-the face of the anvil, he shaped it with blow after blow of the hand
-hammer, thrust it again into the coals and blew up the fire, again laid
-it on the anvil, and, smiting it until the sparks flew in showers,
-worked it, with a deftness marvellous in the eyes of the lad, who sat
-agape at the fury of his strokes, into the shape of a dagger or dirk.</p>
-
-<p>At last, heating it in the coals to the redness of blood and throwing
-it on the floor to cool, he paced the smithy, muttering to himself.
-After a time he took it up again and with the files in their order&mdash;the
-rough, the bastard, the fine and the smooth&mdash;worked it down, now
-trying the surface with fingertips, now plying his file as if the Devil
-were at his elbow and his soul's salvation depended upon haste, until
-the shape and surface pleased him.</p>
-
-<p>He then thrust it again into the coals and blew up the fire softly,
-watching the metal with great care till it came to blood-red heat, when
-he quenched it in a butt of water and, laying it on the bench, rubbed
-it with a whetstone until the black scurf was gone and the metal was
-bright. Again he laid it in the coals and slowly heated it, watching
-with even greater care while the steel turned to the colour of light
-gold and to the colour of dark gold; then with a deft turn of the
-pliers he snatched it out and thrust it deep into the water.</p>
-
-<p>As he had worked, his angry haste had subsided and now, drawing out the
-metal, he studied it closely and smiled. Then he looked up and meeting
-the eyes of Philip Marsham, who had sat for an hour watching him, he
-gave a great start and cried, "God forgie us! I hae clean forgot the
-lad!"</p>
-
-<p>Laying aside his work he pushed before the chair the smoke-stained
-table he had used the night before, placed on it a bowl and a spoon,
-and, setting a small kettle on the forge, blew up the fire until the
-kettle steamed. He then poured porridge from the kettle into the bowl,
-and bringing from the cupboard a second quarter-loaf, nodded at the lad
-and, as an afterthought, remarked, "There's a barrel o' water ahint the
-smiddy, an ye'd wash."</p>
-
-<p>Rising, Phil went out and found the barrel, into which he thrust head
-and hands to his great refreshment; and returning, he sat down to the
-bread and porridge.</p>
-
-<p>While Phil ate, the smith worked at a bit of bone which he shaped to
-his desire as a handle for the dirk.</p>
-
-<p>With light taps of the riveting-hammer he drove it into place and bound
-it fast with ferules chosen from a box under the cot. He then sat
-looking a long time at Phil, nodded, smiled, ran his fingers through
-his beard, smiled again and, with a fine tool, fell to working on the
-ferules. There had been a friendly look in the lad's eyes, and of
-friendly looks the smith had got few in England. People bought his work
-because he was a master craftsman, but the country folk of England
-had little love for the Scots who came south in King James's time and
-after, and a man had need to look sharp lest he fall victim to theft
-or worse than theft. He stopped and again looked at his guest, ran his
-fingers through his beard and demanded suddenly, "Thy name, laddie?"</p>
-
-<p>"Philip Marsham."</p>
-
-<p>"Ye'll spell it out for me?"</p>
-
-<p>This Phil did.</p>
-
-<p>After working a while longer he said as if in afterthought, "Ye'll bide
-wi' me a while?"</p>
-
-<p>"No, I must be on my way."</p>
-
-<p>The man sighed heavily but said only, "I hae ta'en a likin' to ye."</p>
-
-<p>Rising, the lad thrust his hand into his bosom and stood as if to take
-his leave.</p>
-
-<p>"Na, na! Dinna haste! I'll ask ye to gie me help wi' a bit that's yet
-to be done."</p>
-
-<p>The smith turned his work over and over. He had made a dirk with a
-handle of bone bound with silver, and, as he turned it, he examined it
-with utmost care. "'Twill do," he said at last, "and noo for the wark
-that takes twa pair o' hands."</p>
-
-<p>He pointed to a great grindstone.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
- <div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">'He that will a guid edge win,</div>
-<div class="verse">Maun forge thick an' grind thin.'</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>Sitting down at the grindstone, the lad began to turn it while the
-smith, now dashing water over it, now putting both hands to the work,
-ground the dirk. An hour passed, and a second, with no sound save the
-whir of steel on stone and now and again the muttered words:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
- <div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">'He that will a guid edge win,</div>
-<div class="verse">Maun forge thick an' grind thin.'</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>Leaning back at last, he said "'Tis done! An' such wark is better
-suited to a man o' speerit than priggin' farriery."</p>
-
-<p>He tried the edge with his thumb and smiled. From a chip he sliced a
-thin circular shaving that went with and across and against the grain.
-Laying a bit of iron on a board, he cut it clean in two with the dirk
-and the edge showed neither nick nor mark.</p>
-
-<p>Phil rose now, and drew from inside his shirt his small pouch of
-silver. "I'll pay the score," he said.</p>
-
-<p>The Scot stared at him as if he would not believe his ears, then got up
-as if to thrust the dirk between the lad's ribs.</p>
-
-<p>"Those are very foul words," he said thickly. "Nae penny nor plack
-will I take, and were ye a man bearded, I'd leave ye a pudding for the
-hoodie-craw."</p>
-
-<p>The lad reddened and stammered, "I&mdash;I&mdash;why, I give you thanks and ask
-your pardon."</p>
-
-<p>The smith drew himself up and was about to speak harshly, but he saw
-the lad's eyes filling and knew no harm was intended. He caught his
-breath and bit his beard. "'Tis forgi'en an' forgot," he cried. "I hae
-ta'en a likin' to ye an' here's my hand on't. I hae made ye the dirk
-for a gift an' sin ye maun be on your way, ye shall hae my ane sheath,
-for I've no the time to mak' ye the mate to it e'er ye'll be leavin'
-me."</p>
-
-<p>With that he drew out his dirk, sheath and all, and placing the new
-blade in the old leather, handed it to the lad, saying, "'Tis wrought
-o' Damascus steel and there's not twa smiths in England could gi'e ye
-the like."</p>
-
-<p>So with few words but with warm friendliness they parted, and Philip
-Marsham went away over the heath, wondering how a Scottish smith came
-to be dwelling so many long leagues south of the border. In those days
-there were many Scots to be found in England, who had sought long since
-to better their fortunes by following at the heels of their royal
-countryman; but he had chanced to meet with few of them.</p>
-
-<p>Not until he had gone miles did he draw the dirk and read, cut in fine
-old script on the silver ferule, the legend, <i>Wrought by Colin Samson
-for Philip Marsham</i>. There are those who would say it was a miracle out
-of Bible times, but neither Philip Marsham nor I ever saw a Scot yet
-who would not share his supper with a poorer man than himself.</p>
-
-<p>At the end of the day he bought food at a cottage where the wife did
-not scruple to charge him three times the worth of the meal, and
-that night he lay under a hedge; the day thereafter he chanced upon
-a shepherd with whom he passed the night on the hills, and the third
-day he came to an inn where the reckoning took all but a few pence of
-his silver. So as he set out upon his way in the morning, he knew not
-whence his supper was to come or what roof should cover his head.</p>
-
-<p>It was a fine day, with white clouds blowing across a blue sky and all
-the colors as bright as in a painted picture, and there was much for a
-sailor to marvel at. The grass in the meadows waved in the great wind
-like running water. The river in the valley was so small and clear and
-still that, to a man bred at sea, it appeared to be no water at all but
-a toy laid between hills, with toy villages for children on its banks.
-Climbing with light quick steps a knoll from which there was a broader
-prospect, Phil came unawares upon a great thick adder, which lay
-sunning its tawny flanks and black-marked back but which slipped away
-into a thicket at the jar of footsteps. The reptile gave him a lively
-start, but it was soon gone, and from the knoll he saw the valley
-spread before him for miles.</p>
-
-<p>It was a day to be alive and, though Philip Marsham was adrift in a
-strange world, with neither chart nor compass to show the way, his
-strength had at last come back to him and he had the blithe spirit that
-seasons a journey well. His purse was light but he was no lad to be
-stayed for lack of wind, and seeing now a man far ahead of him on the
-road, and perceiving an opportunity to get sailing directions for the
-future, he leaped down from the knoll and set off after the fellow as
-hard as he could post.</p>
-
-<p>The man had gone another mile before Phil overhauled him and by then
-Phil was puffing so loudly that the fellow, who carried a huge book
-under his arm and bore himself very loftily, turned to see what manner
-of creature was at his heels. Although he had the air of a great man,
-his coat was now revealed as worn and spotted and his wristbands were
-dirty. He frowned, bent his head, and pursued his journey in silence.</p>
-
-<p>"Good morrow to you!" Phil cried and fell into step beside him.</p>
-
-<p>The man answered not a word but frowned and hugged his book and walked
-the faster.</p>
-
-<p>At that Phil bustled up and laid hand on his dirk. "Good morrow, I say.
-Hast no tongue between thy teeth?"</p>
-
-<p>The fellow hugged his book the tighter and frowned the darker and
-fiercely shook his head. "Never," he cried, "was a man assaulted with
-such diversity of thoughts! Yet here must come a lobcock lapwing and
-cry 'Good morrow!' I will have you know I am one to bite sooner than to
-bark."</p>
-
-<p>Already he was striding at a furious gait, yet now, giving a hitch to
-his mighty book, he made shift to lengthen his stride and go yet faster.</p>
-
-<p>Unhindered by any such load, Phil pressed at his heels.</p>
-
-<p>"'A lobcock'? 'A lapwing'?" he cried. "Thou puddling quacksalver&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Stopping short and giving him a look of dark resentment, the fellow
-sadly shook his head. "That was a secret and most venomous blow."</p>
-
-<p>"I gave you good morrow and you returned me nought but ill words."</p>
-
-<p>"The shoe must be made for the foot. I have no desire to go posting
-about the country with a roystering coxcomb but&mdash;well&mdash;as I say, I have
-no liking for thy company, which consorts ill with the pressure of many
-thoughts; but since you know what you know (and the Devil take him who
-learned you it!), like it or not, I must even keep thy company with
-such grace as may be. Yea, though thou clappest hand to thy weapon
-with such facility that I believe thee sunk to thy neck in the Devil's
-quagmire, bogged in thy sin, and thy hands red with blood."</p>
-
-<p>With that, he set out again but at an ordinary pace, and Phil,
-wonderfully perplexed by his words, fell into his step.</p>
-
-<p>Again the fellow shook his head very sadly. "A secret and most venomous
-blow! Th' art a Devon man?"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, I never saw Devon."</p>
-
-<p>The fellow shot him a strange glance and shifted the book from one arm
-to the other.</p>
-
-<p>"And have never seen Devon? Never laid foot in Bideford, I'll venture."
-There was a cunning look in his eyes and again he shifted the book.</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis even so."</p>
-
-<p>"A most venomous blow! This wonderfully poseth me." After a time he
-said in a very low voice, "There is only one other way. Either you have
-told me a most wicked lie or Jamie Barwick told you."</p>
-
-<p>The fellow, watching like a cat at a rat-hole, saw Phil start at the
-sound of Jamie Barwick's name.</p>
-
-<p>"I knew it!" he cried. "He'd tell, he'd tell! He's told before&mdash;'twas
-he took the tale to Devon. He's a tall fellow but I'll hox him yet. It
-was no fault of mine&mdash;though I suppose you'll not believe that."</p>
-
-<p>Upon the mind of Philip Marsham there descended a baffling array of
-memories. The name of the big countryman with the gun carried him back
-to that afternoon in Moll Stevens's alehouse, whence with good cause
-he had fled for his life. And now this stray wight, with a great folio
-volume under his arm, out of a conglomeration of meaningless words had
-suddenly thrown at the lad's head the name of Jamie Barwick.</p>
-
-<p>"We must have this out between us," the fellow said at last, breathing
-hard. "I'll not bear the shadow longer. Come, let us sit while we
-talk, for thereby we may rest from our travels. You see, 'twas thus
-and so. Jamie Barwick and I came out of Devon and took service with
-Sir John&mdash;Jamie in the stables, for he has a way with horses, and I as
-under-steward till my wits should be appreciated, which I made sure,
-I'd have you know, would be soon, for there are few scholars that can
-match my curious knowledge of the moon's phases and when to plant corn
-or of the influence of the planets on all manner of husbandry; and
-further, I have kept the covenant of the living God, which should make
-all the devils in hell to tremble; and if England keeps it she shall
-be saved from burning. So when I made shift to get the ear of Sir
-John, who hath a sharp nose in all affairs of his estate, said I,&mdash;and
-it took a stout heart, I would have you know, for he is a man of hot
-temper,&mdash;said I, if he would engage a hundred pounds at my direction I
-would return him in a year's time a gain of a fourth again as much as
-all he would engage.</p>
-
-<p>"'Aha!'" quoth he, "'this is speech after mine own heart. A hundred
-pounds, sayest thou? 'Tis thine to draw upon, and the man who can turn
-his talents thus shall be steward of all mine estates. But mind,'&mdash;and
-here he put his finger to his nose, for he hath keen scent for a
-jest,&mdash;'thou shalt go elsewhere to try the meat on the dog, for I'll be
-no laughingstock; and if thou fail'st then shalt thou go packing, bag
-and baggage, with the dogs at thy heels. Is 't a bargain?'</p>
-
-<p>"Now there was that in his way of speech which liked me little, for I
-am used to dealing with quieter men and always I have given my wits to
-booklearning and to Holy Writ rather than to bickering. But I could
-not then say him nay, for he held his staff thus and so and laughed in
-his throat in a way that I have a misliking of. So I said him yea, and
-took in my own name fifty acres of marsh land, and paid down more than
-thirty pound sterling, and expended all of eight pound sterling for the
-ploughing and twice that for the burning, and sowed it with rape-seed
-at ninepence the acre, and paid twelve pound for the second ploughing
-and eleven pound for the fencing&mdash;all this did I draw from Sir John,
-who, to pay the Devil his due, gave it me with a free hand; and if
-God had been pleased to send the ordinary blessing upon mine acres I
-should have got from it at harvest three hundred or four hundred or
-even five hundred quarters of good rape-seed. And what with reaping and
-threshing and all, at four and twenty shillings the quarter I should
-have repaid him his hundred pounds, threefold or fourfold. All this by
-the blessing of God should I have done but for some little bugs that
-came upon mine acres in armies, and the fowls of the air that came in
-clouds and ate up my rape-seed and my tender young rape, so that I lost
-all that I laid out. And Sir John would not see that in another year I
-ought, God favouring me, to get him back his silver I had lost, even as
-the book says. He is a man of his word and, crying that the jest was
-worth the money, he sent me out the gate with the dogs at my heels and
-with Jamie Barwick laughing till his fat belly shook, to see me go; for
-I was always in terror of the dogs, which are great tall beasts that
-delight to bark and snap at me. And the last word to greet my ears, ere
-I thought they would have torn me limb from limb, was Sir John bawling
-at me, 'Thou puddling quacksalver!' which Jamie Barwick hath told in
-Bideford, making thereby such mirth that I can no longer abide there
-but must needs flit about the country. And lo! even thou, who by speech
-and coat are not of this country at all, dost challenge me by the very
-words he used."</p>
-
-<p>Phil lay meditating on the queer fate that had placed those words in
-his mouth. "Who," he said at last, "is this Sir John?"</p>
-
-<p>"'Who is Sir John?'" The fellow turned and looked at him. "You have
-come from farther than I thought, not to know Sir John Bristol."</p>
-
-<p>"Sir John Bristol? I cannot say I have heard that name."</p>
-
-<p>"Hast never heard of Sir John Bristol? In faith, thou art indeed a
-stranger hereabouts. He is a harsh man withal, and doubtless my ill
-harvest was the judgment of God upon me for hiring myself to serve
-a cruel, blasphemous knight who upholdeth episcopacy and the Common
-Prayer book."</p>
-
-<p>"And whom," asked the lad, "do you serve now?"</p>
-
-<p>"Ah! I, who would make a skillful, faithful, careful steward, am
-teaching a school of small children, and erecting horoscopes for
-country bumpkins, so low has that harsh knight's ill-considered jest
-cast me. ''Twas worth the money,' quoth he; but it had paid him in
-golden guineas had he had the wit and patience to wait another year."
-The fellow closed his eyes, tossed back his long hair, and pressed his
-hands on his forehead. "Never, never," he cried, "was a man assaulted
-with such diversity of thoughts!"</p>
-
-<p>Philip Marsham contemplated him as if from a distance and thought that
-never was there a long-haired scarecrow better suited for the butt of a
-thousand jests.</p>
-
-<p>There were people passing on the road, an old man in a cart, a woman,
-and two men carrying a jug between them, but Phil was scarcely aware
-of them, or even of the lank man beside him, so absorbing were his
-thoughts, until the man rose, clasping his book in both hands and
-running his tongue over his lips.</p>
-
-<p>His mouth worked nervously. "I must be off, I must be off. There they
-are again, and the last time I thought I should perish ere I got free
-of them. O well-beloved, O well-beloved! they have spied me already. If
-I go by the road, they'll have me; I must go by wood and field."</p>
-
-<p>Turning abruptly, he plunged through a copse and over a hill, whence,
-his very gait showing his fear, he speedily disappeared.</p>
-
-<p>And the two men, having set their jug down beside the road, were
-laughing till they reeled against each other, to see him go.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br />
-<small>TWO SAILORS ON FOOT</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>As the two men roared with laughter by the wayside so that the noise
-of it made people a quarter-mile away turn round to see what was the
-matter, those who passed eyed them askance and gave them the width of
-the road. But to the few passers the two paid no heed at all. Pointing
-whither the lank fellow with the book had gone, they roared till they
-choked; then they fell on each other's necks, and embracing, whispered
-together.</p>
-
-<p>Separating somewhat unsteadily, they now looked hard at Philip Marsham
-who knew their kind and feared them not at all. Shifting his dirk
-within easy reach of his hand, and so drawing his knees together that
-he could spring instantly to one side or the other, he coolly waited
-for them to come nearer, which they did.</p>
-
-<p>The foremost was a fat, impudent scoundrel with very red cheeks and a
-very crafty squint. The other was thin and dark, less forward, but if
-one were to judge by his eyes, by far the braver. Both had put on long
-faces, which consorted ill with their recent laughter, and both, it was
-plain, were considerably the worse for strong drink.</p>
-
-<p>The first glanced back over his shoulder at the second, who gave him a
-nudge and pushed him forward.</p>
-
-<p>"Ahem," he began huskily. "You see before you, my kind young gentleman,
-two shipwrecked mariners who have lost at sea all they possess and are
-now forced to beg their way from London into Devon Port where, God
-willing, they will find a berth waiting for them. They&mdash;ahem&mdash;ahem&mdash;"
-He scratched his head and shut his eyes, then turning, hoarsely
-whispered, "Yea, yea! So far is well enough, but what came next?"</p>
-
-<p>The other scowled blackly. "Bear on," he whispered. "Hast forgot the
-tale of calamities and wrecks and sharks?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea! Troubles, my kind young gentleman, have somewhat bepuzzled
-my weary wits. As I was about to say, we have journeyed into those
-far seas where the hot sun besetteth a poor sailor with calentures,
-and nasty rains come with thunder and flash, and the wind stormeth
-outrageously and the poor sailor, if he is spared falling from the
-shrouds into the merciless waves,&mdash;for he must abide the brunt of
-those infectious rains upon the decks to hand in the sails,&mdash;goeth wet
-to his hammock and taketh aches and burning fevers and scurvy. Yea,
-we have seen the ravenous shark or dog-fish (which keepeth a little
-pilot-fish scudding to and fro to bring it intelligence of its prey)
-devour a shipmate with its double row of venomous teeth. Surely, then,
-young gentleman, kind young gentleman, you for whom we have brought
-home curious dainties from that strange and fearful sea, will give us a
-golden guinea to speed us on our way; or if a guinea be not at hand, a
-crown; or sparing a crown, a shilling; or if not a shilling, sixpence.
-Nought will come amiss&mdash;nay, even a groat will, by the so much, help
-two poor sailors on their way."</p>
-
-<p>As the two looked down at Philip Marsham, a score of old tales he had
-heard of worthless sailors who left the sea and went a-begging through
-the kingdom came to his mind. It was a manner of life he had never
-thought of for himself, nor had he a mind to it now. But he knew their
-game and, which was more, he knew that he held a higher trump than
-they. He leaned back and looked up at them and very calmly smiled.</p>
-
-<p>"How now!" the spokesman blustered. "Dost laugh at a tale so sad as
-mine? I ha' killed an Italian fencing-master in my time. I ha' fought
-prizes at half the fairs in England."</p>
-
-<p>His companion laid a hand on his arm and whispered in his ear.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay," he retorted angrily, "'tis nought but a country fellow. I'll
-soon overbear him."</p>
-
-<p>Again Phil smiled. "Hast thou never," he said in a quiet voice, "heard
-the man at the mainmast cry, 'A liar, a liar!' and for a week kept
-clean the beakhead and chains? Nay, I'll be bound thou hast sat in
-bilbowes or been hauled under the keel. The marshal doubtless knew thee
-well."</p>
-
-<p>The faces of the two men changed. The fat man who had been the
-spokesman opened his mouth and was at loss for words, but the thin,
-dark man began to laugh and kept on laughing till he could hardly stand.</p>
-
-<p>"We ha' reached for a pheasant and seized a hawk," he cried. "Whence
-came you, my gay young gallant, and what are you doing here?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why, I am here to set myself up for a farmer. I had a reason for
-leaving London&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Again the thin man burst out laughing. "Why, then," quoth he, "we are
-three men of like minds. So had Martin and I a reason for leaving
-London, too. And you are one who hath smelt salt water in your time.
-Nay, deny it not. Martin's sails are still a-flutter for wind, so
-sorely did you take him aback. 'Twas a shrewd thrust and it scored.
-Why, now, as for farming,"&mdash;he spread his hands and lifted his
-brows,&mdash;"come with us. There's a certain vessel to sail from Bideford
-on a certain day, and for any such tall lad as thou I'll warrant
-there'll be a berth."</p>
-
-<p>Leaning back against a little hill, the lad looked from the red,
-impudent face of the fat man to the amused, lean, daring face of his
-companion and away at the hills and meadows, the green trees and
-ploughed fields, and the long brown road that would lead the man who
-followed its windings and turnings, however far afield they might
-wander, all the way across England from the Channel to the Severn. He
-had made port, once upon a time, in Bristol and he remembered lifting
-Lundy's Island through the fog. A fair countryside lay before him, with
-the faint scent of flowered meadows and the fragrance of blossoming
-fruit-trees on the wind, but the sea was his home and the half-witted
-creature with the book and the ranting talk of ploughing and planting
-had made the lad feel the more his ignorance of country matters, a
-suspicion of which had been growing on him since first he left the town
-and port behind him. These were not men he would have chosen, but he
-had known as bad and he was lost in a wilderness of roads and lanes
-and never-ending hills and meadows and woods, with villages one after
-another. Any port in a storm&mdash;any pilot who knew his bearings! And
-for the matter of that, he had seen rough company before. Though his
-grandparents were gentlefolk, his father had led a rough life and the
-son had learned from childhood to bear with low humour and harsh talk.</p>
-
-<p>The lean man still smiled, and though Martin was angry still, neither
-the lad nor the man heeded him.</p>
-
-<p>"I could bear you company, but&mdash;" A doubt crept on him: when sober they
-might be of quite another mind.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, say us no buts."</p>
-
-<p>"I have neither money nor gear for a journey."</p>
-
-<p>"Nor we&mdash;come!&mdash;Nay, I am not so deep in my cups that I do not know my
-own mind." The man chuckled, perceiving that his intuition had fathomed
-the lad's hesitation.</p>
-
-<p>Rising, Phil looked at the two again. He was as tall as they, if not
-so broad. After all, it was only Martin whose head was humming with
-liquor; the lean man, it now appeared, was as sober as he pleased to be.</p>
-
-<p>"And if I have no money?"</p>
-
-<p>"We are the better matched."</p>
-
-<p>They returned to the highway, where Martin and the thin man took up
-the jug between them, each holding by his forefinger one of its two
-handles, and together all three set out. But the jug was heavy and they
-progressed slowly.</p>
-
-<p>"In faith, the day's warm and the road is dusty and I must drink
-again," said Martin at last.</p>
-
-<p>They stopped and set the jug down in the road.</p>
-
-<p>"You must pay," said the thin man.</p>
-
-<p>Taking from his pocket a penny, Martin handed it to his companion and
-filling a great cup, drained it to the bottom. He then shook the jug,
-which showed by the sound that there was little left.</p>
-
-<p>They walked on a while; then the thin man stopped. "I'll take a bit of
-something myself," he said. He took the penny out of his pocket, handed
-it to Martin, filled the cup and drained it.</p>
-
-<p>Both then looked at Phil. "It is tuppence a quantum," said the thin
-man. "Have you tuppence?"</p>
-
-<p>Phil shook his head, and the three went on together.</p>
-
-<p>Three times more they stopped. The penny changed hands and one or the
-other drank. Martin's speech grew thicker and his companion's face
-flushed.</p>
-
-<p>"Neither one of us nor the other," said the thin man, with a flourish
-of his hand, "is often seen in drink. There is a reason for it this
-time, though. 'If any chuff,' say I, 'can buy good wine for a half
-crown the jug and sell it at profit for tuppence the can, why cannot
-we?' So we ha' laid down our half crown and set out upon the road to
-peddle our goods, when Martin must needs drink for his thirst, which,
-as the Scripture hath it, endureth forever. 'But,' quoth I, 'for every
-pot a penny to him and a penny to me.' 'Why,' quoth he,"&mdash;lowering his
-voice, the thin man whispered to Phil, "He is a rare fool at times,"
-then resumed in his ordinary voice,&mdash;"'Why,' quoth he, 'here's thy
-penny for thee.' So, presently, I to him: his penny for the wine that I
-drink. Before we have gone far it comes upon me as a wondrous thrifty
-thought, that the more we drink the more we earn."&mdash;Again he whispered
-to Phil, drawing him aside, "When I had drunk a few cans, which much
-enlivened my wits, I saw he was not so great a fool as I had thought;"
-and resumed his ordinary voice&mdash;"'Tis little wonder that all the world
-desires to keep an alehouse or a tavern!"</p>
-
-<p>Never was there plainer example of befuddled wits! Passing back and
-forth, from one to the other, the single penny, the two had consumed
-their stock in trade, believing that they were earning great profit on
-their investment. Perceiving that the jug was nearly empty, Phil waited
-with quiet interest for the outcome.</p>
-
-<p>They stopped again in the road. Martin handed the penny to the thin
-man and poured from the jug into the cup. There was a gurgle or two and
-the jug was empty. The cup was but half full.</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis not full measure," he muttered, "but let it be." He emptied the
-cup and wiped his lips.</p>
-
-<p>"Now," said the thin man, his face by this time fully as red as his
-fellow's, "where's thy store of silver? Count and share, count and
-share."</p>
-
-<p>"Thou hast it, pence and pounds."</p>
-
-<p>Martin's eyes half closed and his head nodded. Breathing hard, he sat
-down beside the road.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, th'art drunk. Come, now, thy purse and a just division." Out of a
-fog of wild notions the befuddled thin man had pitched upon this alone,
-that Martin withheld from him their common profit from their adventure
-into trade. He had keen mind and strong will, and his head had long
-resisted the assaults of the wine; but wine is a cunning, powerful foe
-and not easily discouraged, which by sapping and mining can accomplish
-the fall of the tallest citadel; and now, although steadier on his
-feet, the fellow was nearly as drunk as his mate and in no condition to
-perceive the flaw in his own logic.</p>
-
-<p>To all this Martin gave no heed at all. He covered his eyes with his
-hands and uttering a prolonged groan, cried thickly,&mdash;apparently to
-Phil,&mdash;"And did you ever see a man dance on air! Ah, a hanging is a
-sight to catch the breath in your throat and make an emptiness in a
-man's belly!"</p>
-
-<p>"Tush!" the thin man cried. Leaning over Martin he thrust his hands
-into pocket, pouch and bosom. "Where hast thou hid it?" he fiercely
-whispered.</p>
-
-<p>Martin tried to stand and fell weakly back, but slapped the thin man
-across the face as he did so.</p>
-
-<p>In an instant the thin man had out a knife and was pressing the point
-firmly against Martin's ribs.</p>
-
-<p>Over Martin's florid face there came a ghastly pallor. "Let me go!"
-he yelled. "Take away thy knife, thou black-hearted, thrice accurst
-old goat! I've nought of thine. O Tom, to use me thus basely!" And
-sprawling on his back, he wriggled under the knife like a great,
-helpless hog.</p>
-
-<p>The thin man smiled. To Phil Marsham his face seemed to have grown
-like pictures of the Devil in old books. He held the knife against
-the shrieking fat man's breast and pressed it the harder when Martin
-clutched at his wrist, then with a fierce "Pfaw!" of disgust released
-his victim and stood erect. "Pig!" he whispered. "See!" The point of
-the knife was red with blood. "Th'art not worth killing. Thy thin blood
-would quench the fire of a fleshed blade."</p>
-
-<p>With that, he deliberately spat in the man's face, and turning, went
-off alone.</p>
-
-<p>They were two sober men that watched him go, for the fumes of liquor
-had fled from the fat man's brain as he lay with the knife at his
-heart, and of their wine Phil Marsham had taken not a drop. Striding
-away, the thin man never looked behind him; and still showing them only
-his back, he passed out of sight.</p>
-
-<p>Martin remained as pale as before he had been red. He rubbed his sore
-breast where the knife had pricked him, and gulped three or four times.
-"Ah-h-h!" he breathed. "God be praised, he's gone!" He made the sign of
-the cross, then cast a sharp glance at Phil to see if he had noticed.
-"God be praised, he's gone! He hath a cruel humour. He will kill for a
-word, when the mood is on him. I thought I was a dead man. Ah-h-h!"</p>
-
-<p>The colour returned to his round face and the sly, crafty look returned
-to his eyes. "We'll find him at Bideford, though, and all will go well
-again. He'll kill for a word&mdash;nay, for a thought! But he never bears a
-grudge&mdash;against a friend. We'll lie tonight, my lad, with a roof over
-our heads, and by dawn we'll take the road."</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br />
-<small>THE GIRL AT THE INN</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>As they came at nightfall to the inn whither Martin had been determined
-they should find their way, a coach drawn by two horses clattered down
-the village street and drew up at the inn gate before them. There was
-calling and shouting. Hostlers came running from the stables and stood
-by the horses' heads. The landlord himself stood by the coach door to
-welcome his guests and servants unloaded their boxes. The coachman in
-livery sat high above the tumult, his arms folded in lofty pride, and
-out of the coach into the light from the inn door there stepped an
-old gentleman who gallantly handed down his lady. The hostlers leaped
-away from the bridles, the coachman resumed the reins, and when the
-procession of guests, host, and servants had moved into the great room
-where a fire blazed on the hearth, the horses, tossing their heads,
-proceeded to the stable.</p>
-
-<p>All this the two foot-weary travellers saw, as unobserved in the bustle
-and stir, they made their way quietly toward the rear of the building.
-When they passed a dimly lighted window Martin glanced slyly around and
-with quick steps ran over to it and peeped in. Whatever he sought, he
-failed to find it, and he returned with a scowl. The two had chosen the
-opposite side of the house from the stable and no one perceived their
-cautious progress. Martin repeated his act at a second window and at a
-third, but he got small satisfaction, as his steadily darkening frown
-indicated.</p>
-
-<p>They came at last to a brighter window than any of the others, and this
-he approached with greater caution. He crouched under it and raised
-his great head slowly from the very corner until one eye saw into the
-room, which was filled with light and gave forth the clatter and hum of
-a great domestic bustling. Here he remained a long time, now ducking
-his head and now bobbing it up again, and when he came away a smile had
-replaced his frown. "She's here," he whispered. "From now on we've a
-plain course to sail, without rock or sandbar."</p>
-
-<p>They retraced their steps and went boldly round the inn to the kitchen
-door. There were lights in the stable and men talking loudly of one
-thing and another. From the kitchen door, which stood ajar, came
-the rattle of dishes and the smell of food and a great bawling and
-clamouring as the mistress directed and the maids ran.</p>
-
-<p>With a jaunty air and an ingratiating smile, Martin boldly stepped to
-the door. He knocked and waited but no one heeded his summons. A scowl
-replaced his smile and he knocked with redoubled vigour. The sound rang
-out clearly in the inn yard. Several men came to the door of the stable
-to see what was the matter and the clamour in the kitchen ceased. Steps
-approached, a firm hand threw wide the door, and a woman cried with
-harsh voice, "Well, then, what'll you have, who come to the back when
-honest folk go to the front?"</p>
-
-<p>There was for a moment a disagreeable cast in Martin's eyes, but his
-facile mouth resumed its easy smile. "An it please you, mistress, there
-are two gentlemen here would have a word with Nell Entick."</p>
-
-<p>"Gentlemen!" she cried with a great guffaw. "Gentry of the road, I make
-no doubt, who would steal away all the girl has&mdash;it's little enough,
-God knows."</p>
-
-<p>A couple of men came sauntering out of the stable and the kitchen maids
-stood a-titter.</p>
-
-<p>Martin sputtered and stammered and grew redder than before, which she
-perceiving, bawled in a great voice that rang through the kitchen and
-far into the house, "Nell Entick, Nell Entick! Devil take the wench,
-is she deaf as an adder? Nell Entick, here's a 'gentleman' come to the
-kitchen door to see thee, his face as red as a reeky coal to kindle a
-pipe of tobacco with."</p>
-
-<p>A shrill chorus of women's laughter came from the kitchen, echoed by
-a chorus of bass from the stable, and Phil Marsham stepped back in
-the dark, unwilling to be companioned with the man who had drawn such
-ridicule upon himself. But as Martin thrust himself forward with a show
-of bluster and bravado, the click of light footsteps came down the
-passage, and through the kitchen walked a girl whose flush of anger
-wondrously became her handsome face.</p>
-
-<p>"Where is the wretch," she cried, and stepping on the doorstone, stood
-face to face with Martin.</p>
-
-<p>"So, 'tis thou," she sneered. "I thought as much. Well&mdash;" she suddenly
-stopped, perceiving Phil, who stood nearly out of sight in the shadow.
-"Who is that?" she asked.</p>
-
-<p>The mistress had returned to the kitchen, the girls to their work, the
-men to the stable.</p>
-
-<p>"Th'art the same wench," Martin cried in anger, seizing at her hand.
-"Hard words for old acquaintance, and a warm glance for a strange face."</p>
-
-<p>She snatched her hand away and cuffed him on the ear with a force that
-sent him staggering.</p>
-
-<p>Though he liked it little, he swallowed his wrath.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, chuck," he coaxed her, "let bygones lie. Tell me, will he turn
-his hand to help his brother?"</p>
-
-<p>She laughed curtly. "The last time he spoke your name, he said he would
-put his hand in his pocket to pay the sexton that dug your grave and
-would find pleasure in so doing; but that he'd then let you lie with
-never a stone to mark the place, and if the world forgot you as soon as
-he, the better for him."</p>
-
-<p>"But sure he could not mean it?"</p>
-
-<p>"He did."</p>
-
-<p>Martin swore vilely under his breath.</p>
-
-<p>From the kitchen came the landlady's voice. "Nell Entick, Nell, I say!
-Gad-about! Good-for-nought!"</p>
-
-<p>"Go to the stable," she whispered, "and tell them I sent you to wait
-there. She'll be in better humour in an hour's time. It may be I can
-even bring you in here."</p>
-
-<p>She shot another glance over Martin's shoulder at the slim form of Phil
-Marsham and went away smiling.</p>
-
-<p>Few in the stable looked twice at the two strangers in worn coats and
-dusty shoes who entered and sat on a bench by the wall, for there is
-as much pride of place in a stable as in a palace. There was talk
-of racing and hunting and fairs, and the beasts champed their oats,
-and everywhere was the smell of horses and harness. Presently there
-came from the inn a coachman in livery and him they greeted with nods
-and good-morrows, for he was sleek and well fed and, after a manner,
-haughty, which commanded their respect. He sat down among them affably,
-as one conscious of his place in the world but desiring&mdash;provided they
-recognized him as a man of position&mdash;to be magnanimous to all; and
-after inquiring into the welfare of his horses he spoke of the weather
-and the roads.</p>
-
-<p>"Hast come far?" a wrinkled old man asked.</p>
-
-<p>"Aye, from Larwood."</p>
-
-<p>"The horses stood the day's travel well?"</p>
-
-<p>"Aye, they are good beasts. But much depends on proper handling. It
-makes a deal of difference who holds the reins." He looked about with
-an air of generous patronage. "That, and their meat." He nodded toward
-one of the men. "'Tis well, though, when at night they are well fed, to
-fill the rack with barley-straw or wheat ere leaving them, as I showed
-thee, that perceiving it is not pleasant they may lie down and take
-their rest, which is in itself as good as meat for the next day's work."</p>
-
-<p>A general murmur of assent greeted this observation.</p>
-
-<p>"Goest far?" another asked.</p>
-
-<p>"Aye, to Lincoln."</p>
-
-<p>A rumble of surprise ran about the stable and the deference of the
-stablemen visibly increased.</p>
-
-<p>"Hast been long away?"</p>
-
-<p>"Aye, six weeks to the day."</p>
-
-<p>"It do take a deal of silver to travel thus."</p>
-
-<p>"Aye, aye." He condescended to smile. "But there are few of the clergy
-in England can better afford a journey to the Isle o' Wight than the
-good Dr. Marsham, and he is one who grudges nought when his lady hath
-been ill. 'Tis wonderful what travel will do for the ailing. Aye, he
-hath visited in many great houses and I have seen good company while we
-have been on the road."</p>
-
-<p>Phil had looked up. "Where is this Doctor Marsham's home?" he asked.</p>
-
-<p>All frowned at the rash young man's temerity in thus familiarly
-accosting the powerful personage in livery, and none more accusingly
-than the personage himself; but with a scornful lift of his brows
-he replied in a manner to tell all who were present that such as he
-were above mere arrogance. "Why, young man, he comes from a place you
-doubtless never heard of, keeping as you doubtless do, so close at
-home: from Little Grimsby."</p>
-
-<p>Martin glanced at Phil. "The name, it seems, is thine own. Hast ever
-been at Little Grimsby?"</p>
-
-<p>"Never."</p>
-
-<p>And with that they forgot Philip Marsham, or at all events treated him
-as if he had never existed.</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis few o' the clergy ride in their own coaches," someone said, with
-an obsequiousness that went far to conciliate the magnificent coachman.</p>
-
-<p>"Aye, very few," he said smiling, "but Dr. Marsham is well connected
-and a distant relation some years since left him a very comfortable
-fortune&mdash;not to mention that in all England there are few better
-livings than his. There is no better blood in the country than runs in
-his veins. You'd be surprised if I was to tell you of families he's
-connected with."</p>
-
-<p>So the talk ran.</p>
-
-<p>Presently a little boy appeared from the darkness beyond the door and
-hunting out Martin, touched his shoulder and beckoned. Martin, having
-long nursed his ill temper, rose. "It is time," he said, "yea, more
-than time." With swagger and toss he elbowed his way out past the
-liveried coachman; but missing Phil he turned and saw him still sitting
-on the bench, his eyes fixed on the harness hanging on the opposite
-wall.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, come," he called loudly. "Come, make haste! Where are thy wits?
-Phil, I say!"</p>
-
-<p>Starting suddenly awake from his revery, Phil got up and followed
-Martin out of the stable, seeing no one, and so blindly pressed at his
-heels, so little heeded what went on about him, that the sudden burst
-of laughter his absence of mind had occasioned passed unheard over his
-head.</p>
-
-<p>In the kitchen, whither the boy led them, they found places laid at one
-end of a great table and Nell Entick waiting to serve them, who gave
-Martin cold glances but looked long and curiously at Phil Marsham. The
-mistress and the other girls were gone. The boy sat in the corner, by
-the great fireplace where the roast had been turning on the now empty
-spit. Nell set before them a pitcher of beer and all that was left of a
-venison pasty.</p>
-
-<p>Martin ate greedily and whispered to her and talked in a mumbling
-undertone, but she gave him short answers till his temper flew beyond
-his grasp and he knocked over his beer in reaching for her. "Witch!" he
-snarled. "Yea, look him in the eye! His wits are a-wandering again."</p>
-
-<p>Looking up, Phil met her eyes staring boldly into his. He leaned back
-and smiled, for she was a comely lass.</p>
-
-<p>"Have the two guests who came tonight in a coach gone yet to bed?" he
-asked.</p>
-
-<p>"How should I know that?"</p>
-
-<p>His question baffled her and she looked at him from under her long
-lashes, half, perhaps, in search of some hidden meaning in his words,
-but certainly a full half because she knew that her eyes were her best
-weapons and that the stroke was a telling one. She made little of his
-meaning but her thrust scored.</p>
-
-<p>He looked at her again and marked the poise of her shapely head,
-the curves of neck and shoulders, the full bosom, the bare arms. But
-his mind was still set on that other matter and he persisted in his
-design. "I want," he said slowly, "to see them&mdash;to see them without
-their knowing or any one's knowing&mdash;except you and me." Here he met her
-at her own game, and he was not so far carried away but that he could
-inwardly smile to see his own shot tell.</p>
-
-<p>"They have supped in the little parlor and are sitting there by the
-fire," she whispered. "It may cost me my place&mdash;but&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Again she looked at him under her long lashes. He gave her as good as
-she sent, and she whispered, "Come, then&mdash;come."</p>
-
-<p>Martin gave an angry snort over his beer, but she returned a hot glance
-and an impatient gesture. With Phil pressing close at her heels she
-led the way out of the kitchen and down a long passage. Stopping with
-her finger on her lips, she very quietly opened a door and motioned
-him forward. Again her finger at her lips! With her eyes she implored
-silence.</p>
-
-<p>Without so much as the creaking of a board he stepped through the door.
-A second door, which stood ajar, led into the little parlor and through
-the crack he saw an old man with long white hair and beard&mdash;an old man
-with a kindly face mellowed by years of study, perhaps by years of
-disappointment and anxiety. The old man's eyes were shut, for he was
-dozing. In a chair on the other side of the hearth a lady sat, but only
-the rich border of her gown showed through the partly open door.</p>
-
-<p>The lad stood there with a lump in his throat and a curious mingling
-of emotions in his heart and head. It had happened so suddenly,
-so strangely, he felt that baffling sense of unreality which comes
-sometimes to all of us. He touched the wall to make sure he was not
-dreaming. Had he but stayed in school, as his father had desired, and
-gone back to Little Grimsby, who knew what might have come of it? But
-no! He was a penniless vagabond, a waif astray on the highroads of
-England. He was now of a mind to speak out; now of a mind to slip like
-a fox to earth. His gay, gallant ne'er-do-weel of a father was gone. He
-was alone in the world save for his chance acquaintance of the road,
-which was perhaps worse than being entirely alone. What madness&mdash;he
-wondered as he looked at the kindly face of the drowsy old man&mdash;had led
-Tom Marsham away from his home? Or was it more than a mere mad prank?
-Had the manners of a country vicarage so stifled him that he became
-desperate? As Phil thought of Martin drinking in the kitchen, a wave
-of revulsion swept over him; but after all, his father had kept such
-company in his own life, and though he had brought up the boy to better
-things, the father's reckless and adventurous nature, in spite of his
-best intentions, had drawn the son into wild ways. Something rose in
-Phil's throat and choked him, but the hot pride that came straightly
-and honestly from his father now flamed high. He knew well enough that
-Tom Marsham had had his faults, and of a kind to close upon him the
-doors of such a home as the vicarage at Little Grimsby; but he had been
-a lovable man none the less and Tom Marsham's son was loyal.</p>
-
-<p>The girl, daring not speak, was tugging at Phil's coat in an agony of
-misgivings. He stepped softly back, closed the door on a world he might
-have entered, and carried away with him the secret that would have
-brought peace&mdash;if a sad, almost bitter peace&mdash;to two lonely souls.</p>
-
-<p>He paused in the passage and the girl stopped beside him. There was
-no one in sight or hearing, and he kissed her. Such is the curious
-complexity with which impressions and emotions crowd upon one, that
-even while the vicarage at Little Grimsby and his dead father were
-uppermost in his thoughts, he was of a mind then and for many a long
-day thereafter to come back and marry her. Since he had closed the door
-through which he might have passed, this was a golden dream to cling to
-in hard times and glad, he thought. For he had caught her fancy as well
-as she his and she kissed him full on the lips; and being in all ways
-his father's son, he fell victim to a kitchen wench's bright eyes at
-the very moment when Little Grimsby was within his reach, as has father
-had done before him. Then they walked out into the kitchen, trying to
-appear as if nothing had happened, and Martin, perceiving their red
-cheeks, only sneered.</p>
-
-<p>"You must sleep on the hay," she whispered; and to Martin, "I'll send
-him word before morning and give you his reply."</p>
-
-<p>So they again followed the little boy through the darkness to the
-stable by a back way, and climbed a ladder to the great mow and crawled
-behind a mountain of hay, and lay with their thoughts to bear them
-company while men far below talked of country affairs, horses were
-trampling uneasily in their stalls, and the little boy was off through
-the night with a message.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br />
-<small>SIR JOHN BRISTOL</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>There was not a cloud in the sky at dawn. Cocks crowed lustily, near
-and loud or far and faint. The blue light grew stronger and revealed
-the sleeping village and the rambling old inn and the great stable,
-where the horses stood in their stalls and pulled at the hay and
-pease in the racks or moved uneasily about. The stars became dim and
-disappeared. The rosy east turned to gold and the dark hills turned to
-blue and the village stirred from its sleep.</p>
-
-<p>The master of the inn came down, rubbing his eyes and yawning, to the
-great room where one of the maids, bedraggled with sleep, was brushing
-the hearth and another was clearing a table at which two village
-roysterers had sat late. The master was in an evil temper, but for the
-moment there was no fault to be found with the maids, so he left them
-without a word and went through the long passage to the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>Seeing there a candle, which had burned to a pool of tallow, still
-guttering faintly in its socket, he cried out at the waste and reached
-to douse the feeble flame, then stopped in anger, for in a chair by the
-table, on which he had rested his head and arms, the little boy sat
-fast asleep.</p>
-
-<p>"Hollo!" the master bawled.</p>
-
-<p>Up started the little boy, awake on the instant and his eyes wide with
-fear.</p>
-
-<p>"What in the fiend's name hast thou been up to, this night?" quoth the
-master in a fierce bellow.</p>
-
-<p>The little boy burst into tears. "He'll have nought to do with him,"
-he wailed. "'Twas a long way and fearful dark but I went it, every
-step, and ferreted him out and gave him the message; and he swore most
-wickedly and bade me tell the man go to a place I don't like to name,
-and bade me tell Nell Entick he took it ill of her to traffic with such
-as that brother of his."</p>
-
-<p>"Ah-ha!" cried the host, belting his breeches tighter. "Most shrewdly
-do I suspect there have been strange doings hereabouts. Where's Nell
-Entick? Nell Entick, I say, Nell Entick!" His voice went through the
-house like thunder. The sashes rattled and the little boy quaked.</p>
-
-<p>Down came the hostess and in came the maids&mdash;all but Nell Entick.</p>
-
-<p>"Nell Entick! Where's Nell Entick, I say! Fiend take the wench&mdash;where's
-Nell Entick?"</p>
-
-<p>Then in came the sleepy hostlers, and the coachman, his livery all awry
-from his haste&mdash;but not Nell Entick. For Nell Entick, a-tremble with
-well-founded apprehensions, having gone late to bed and slept heavily,
-had risen just after the host, had followed him down the passage and,
-after listening at the door until she made sure her worst fears were
-realized, had darted back along the passage and out through the inn
-yard to the stable where as loudly as she dared, but not loudly enough
-to rouse the weary sleepers above, she was calling, "Martin! Martin!
-Awake, I say, or they'll all be upon thee! Martin, awake!"</p>
-
-<p>The host in fury seized the little boy by the ear and dragged him
-shrieking across the table. "Now, sirrah," quoth he, "of whom mak'st
-thou this squalling and squealing? A stick laid to thy bum will
-doubtless go far to keep thy soul from burning."</p>
-
-<p>"Unhand me!" he squalled. "She'll kill me, an I tell."</p>
-
-<p>"An thou tellest not, thou slubbering noddy, I'll slice thee into
-collops of veal." And still holding the unhappy child by the ear, the
-host, making a ferocious face, reached for a long and sharp knife.</p>
-
-<p>"I'll tell&mdash;I'll tell&mdash;'Tis the two men that slept in the hay."</p>
-
-<p>"Ha! The hounds are in cry."</p>
-
-<p>And with that the host released his victim and dashed, knife in hand,
-out the kitchen door. The household trailed at his heels. The sleeping
-guests woke in their chambers and faces appeared at curtained windows.</p>
-
-<p>Nell Entick fled from the stable as he came roaring, but seeing her
-not, he mounted the ladder and plunged into the hay with wild thrusts
-of his knife in all directions. "Hollo! Hollo!" he yelled. "At 'em,
-dogs, at 'em!" And the two sleepers in the far corner of the mow, as
-the household had done before them, started wide awake.</p>
-
-<p>For the second time since they had met, Martin, crouching in the hay,
-crossed himself, then shot a scared glance at Phil. Martin was white
-round the lips and his hands were shaking like the palsy. "Said he
-aught of hanging?" he whispered. But Philip Marsham was then in no
-mood to heed his chance companion, whose bubble of bluster he had seen
-pricked three times.</p>
-
-<p>What had occurred was plain enough and the two were cornered like rats;
-but Phil got up on his toes, shielded from sight by a mound of hay,
-and squatting low, got in his arms as much of the hay as he could grasp.</p>
-
-<p>Bawling curses and thrusting this way and that with his knife, the host
-came steadily nearer. He passed the mound. He saw the two. Knife in
-hand he plunged at them over the hay, with a yell of triumph. But his
-footing was none of the best, and as he came, Phil rose with a great
-armful of hay to receive the knife-thrust and sprang at him.</p>
-
-<p>Thus thrown off his balance, the man fell and the lad, catching his
-wrist and dexterously twisting it, removed the knife from his hand and
-flung it into the darkest corner of the great mow.</p>
-
-<p>"Help! Treason! Murder! Thieves!"</p>
-
-<p>With his hand on the host's throat, Phil shoved him deeper in the hay
-and held him at his mercy, but Martin was already scrambling over the
-mow, and with a last thrust Phil left the blinded and choking host to
-dig himself out at his leisure and followed, dirk in hand. As the two
-leaped down on the stable floor, the flashing dirk bought them passage
-to the rear, whither they fled apace, and out the door and away.</p>
-
-<p>They passed Nell Entick at the gate, her hands clasped in terror, who
-cried to Martin, "He'll have nought of you. Hard words were all he
-sent."</p>
-
-<p>To Phil she said nothing but her glance held him, and he whispered, "I
-will come back and marry you."</p>
-
-<p>She smiled.</p>
-
-<p>"You will wait for me?" he whispered, and kissed her.</p>
-
-<p>She nodded and he kissed her again ere he fled after Martin.</p>
-
-<p>When they had left the village behind them they stopped to breathe and
-rest.</p>
-
-<p>Leaning against a tree, Martin mopped the sweat from his brow. "Had
-I but a sword," he cried, "I'd ha' given them theme for thought, the
-scurvy knaves!"</p>
-
-<p>"It seems thy brother, of whom we were to have got so much, bears thee
-little love." And Phil smiled.</p>
-
-<p>For this Martin returned him an oath, and sat upon a stone.</p>
-
-<p>On the left lay the village whence they had come, and, though the sun
-was not yet up, the spire of the church and the thatched roofs of the
-cottages were very clearly to be seen in the pure morning air. Smoke
-was rising from chimneys and small sounds of awakening life came out to
-the vagabonds on the lonely road, as from the woods at their back came
-the shrill, loud laugh of the yaffle, and from the marsh before them,
-the croaking of many frogs.</p>
-
-<p>Martin's shifty eyes ranged from the cows standing about the straw rack
-in a distant barton in the east to a great wooded park on a hill in the
-west. "I will not go hungry," he cried with an oath, "because it is his
-humour to deny me. We shall see what we shall see."</p>
-
-<p>He rose and turned west and with Phil at his heels he came presently to
-the great park they had seen from a distance.</p>
-
-<p>"We shall see what we shall see."</p>
-
-<p>With that he left the road and following a copse beside a meadow
-entered the wood, where the two buried themselves deep in the shade
-of the great trees. The sun was up now and the birds were fluttering
-and clamouring high overhead, but to the motion and clamour of small
-birds they gave no heed. From his pocket Martin drew a bit of strong
-thread, then, looking about, he wagged his head and pushed through the
-undergrowth. "Hare or pheasant, I care not which. Here we shall spread
-our net&mdash;here&mdash;and here." Whereupon he pulled down a twig and knotted
-the thread and formed a noose with his fingers. "Here puss shall run,"
-he continued, "and here, God willing, we shall eat."</p>
-
-<p>Having thus set his snare, he left it, and sulkily, for the sun was
-getting up in the sky and they had come far without breaking their
-fast. So Phil followed him and they lay on a bank, with an open vale
-before them where yellow daffodils were in full bloom, and nursed their
-hunger.</p>
-
-<p>After a while Martin slipped away deftly but returned with a face
-darker than he took, and though he went three times to the snare and
-scarcely stirred a leaf,&mdash;which spoke more of experience in such
-lawless sports than some books might have told,&mdash;each time his face,
-when he returned, was longer than before.</p>
-
-<p>"A man must eat," he said at last, "and here in his own bailiwick and
-warren will I eat to spite him. Yea, and leave guts and fur to puzzle
-him. But there's another way, quicker and surer, though not so safe."</p>
-
-<p>So they went together over a hill and down a glade to a meadow.</p>
-
-<p>"Do thou," he whispered, "lie here in wait."</p>
-
-<p>With a club in his hand and a few stones in his pocket he circled
-through the thicket, and having in his manner of knowing his business
-and of commanding the hunt, resumed his old bravado, he now made a
-great show of courage and resourcefulness; but Phil, having flung
-himself down at full length by the meadow, smiled to hear him puffing
-through the wood.</p>
-
-<p>Off in the wood wings fluttered and Martin murmured under his breath.
-Presently a stone rapped against a tree-trunk and again there was the
-sound of wings.</p>
-
-<p>Then the lad by the meadow heard a stone rip through the leaves and
-strike with a soft thud, whereupon something fell heavily and thrashed
-about in the undergrowth, and Martin cried out joyously.</p>
-
-<p>He had no more than appeared, holding high a fine cock-pheasant, with
-the cry, "Here's meat that will eat well," when there was a great noise
-of heavy feet in the copse behind him, and whirling about in exceeding
-haste, he flung the pheasant full in the face of the keeper and bolted
-like a startled filly. Thereupon scrambling to his feet, Phil must
-needs burst out laughing at the wild look of terror Martin wore, though
-the keeper was even then upon him and though he himself was of no mind
-to run. He lightly stepped aside as the keeper rushed at him, and
-darting back to where Martin had dropped his cudgel, snatched it up
-and turned, cudgel in hand. He was aware of a flash of colour in the
-wood, and the sound of voices, but he had no leisure to look ere the
-keeper was again at him, when for the first time he saw that the keeper
-was the selfsame red-faced countryman who had brought the gun to Moll
-Stevens's alehouse by the Thames&mdash;that it was Jamie Barwick.</p>
-
-<p>Now the keeper Barwick was at the same moment aware of something
-familiar about his antagonist, but not until he was at him a second
-time in full tilt did he recollect where and when he had last seen him.
-He then stopped short, so great was his amazement, but resumed his
-attack with redoubled fury. His stick crashed against the cudgel and
-broke, and ducking a smart rap, he dived at Phil's knees.</p>
-
-<p>To this, Phil made effective reply by dropping the cudgel and dodging
-past the keeper to catch him round the waist from behind (for his arms,
-exceeding long though they were, were just long enough to encompass
-comfortably the man's great belly), and the lad's iron clutch about the
-fellow's middle sorely distressed him. As they swayed back and forth
-the keeper suddenly seized Phil's head over his own shoulder and rose
-and bent forward, lifting Phil from the ground bodily; then he flung
-himself upon his back and might have killed the lad by the fall, had
-Phil not barely wriggled from under him.</p>
-
-<p>Both were on their feet in haste, but though the keeper was breathing
-the harder, Philip Marsham, having come far without food, was the
-weaker, and as Barwick charged again, Phil laid hands on his dirk, but
-thought better of it. Then Barwick struck from the shoulder and Phil,
-seizing his wrist, lightly turned and crouched and drew the man just
-beyond his balance so that his own great weight pitched him over the
-lad's head. It is a deft throw and gives a heavy fall, but Phil had not
-the strength to rise at the moment of pitching his antagonist,&mdash;which
-will send a man flying twice his length,&mdash;so Barwick, instead of taking
-such a tumble as breaks bones, landed on his face and scraped his nose
-on the ground.</p>
-
-<p>He rose with blood and mud smearing his face and with his drawn knife
-in his hand; and Philip Marsham, his eyes showing like black coals set
-in his stark white face, yielded not a step, but snatched out his dirk
-to give as good as he got.</p>
-
-<p>Then, as they shifted ground and fenced for an opening, a booming
-"Holla! Holla!" came down to them.</p>
-
-<p>They stopped and looked toward the source of the summons, but Phil, a
-shade the slower to return to his antagonist, saw out of the corner of
-his eye that Barwick was coming at him. He leaped back and with his arm
-knocked aside Barwick's blow.</p>
-
-<p>"Holla, I say! Ha' done, ha' done! That, Barwick, was a foul trick.
-Another like that, and I'll turn you out."</p>
-
-<p>A crestfallen man was Barwick then, who made out to stammer, "Yea, Sir
-John&mdash;yea, Sir John, but a poacher&mdash;'e's a poacher, Sir John, and a
-poacher&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"A foul trick is a foul trick."</p>
-
-<p>The speaker wore a scarlet cloak overlaid with silver lace, and his
-iron-grey hair crept in curls from under a broad hat. His face, when he
-looked at Barwick, was such that Barwick stepped quietly back and held
-his tongue. The man had Martin by the collar (his sleek impudence had
-melted into a vast melancholy), and there stood behind them a little
-way up the bank, Phil now saw, a lady no older than Phil himself, who
-watched the group with calm, dark eyes and stood above them all like a
-queen.</p>
-
-<p>"Throw down those knives," the knight ordered, for it took no divining
-to perceive that here was Sir John Bristol in the flesh. "Thrust them,
-points into the ground. Good! Now have on, and God speed the better
-man."</p>
-
-<p>To Philip Marsham, who could have expected prison at the very least,
-this fair chance to fight his own battle came as a reprieve; and though
-he very well knew that he must win the fight at once or go down from
-sheer weakness and want of food, his eyes danced.</p>
-
-<p>The knight's frown darkened, observing that Barwick appeared to have
-got his fill, and he smote the ground with his staff. Then Barwick
-turned and Philip Marsham went in upon him like a ray of light. Three
-times he threw the big man, by sheer skill and knowledge, for the other
-by his own weight hindered himself, but after the third time the world
-went white and the lad fell.</p>
-
-<p>He sat up shortly and looked into Sir John's face.</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis the lack of food," he stammered, "or I'd out-last him as well as
-out-wrestle him."</p>
-
-<p>Sir John was laughing mightily. "You gave him full measure, and thank
-God you are fresh from a fast or I'd ha' lost a keeper. As for food, we
-shall remedy that lack. Two things I have to say: one to you, Barwick.
-You attempted a foul trick. I'll have none such in my service. If it
-happens again, you go. And as for you, you white-livered cur, that
-would leave a boy to a beating and never turn a hand to save him, I'll
-even take you in hand myself."</p>
-
-<p>And with that, Sir John flung back his cloak and raising his staff with
-one hand while with the other he kept hold of Martin's coat-collar,
-he thrashed the man till he bellowed and blubbered&mdash;till his coat was
-split and his shirt was bloody and his head was broken and his legs
-were all welts and bruises.</p>
-
-<p>"Help! Help! O Holy Mary! Saints in Heaven! Help! O Jamie, Jamie,
-Jamie! O sir! Kind sir! let me go! Let me go!"</p>
-
-<p>Sir John flung him away with a last whistling stroke of the great
-staff. "That," said he, "for cowardice."</p>
-
-<p>And Jamie Barwick, having already forgotten his own rebuke, was broadly
-smiling.</p>
-
-<p>Sir John turned then and looked Philip Marsham in the eye. "It was a
-good fight," he said, and smiled. "Courage and honour will carry a man
-far."</p>
-
-<p>He then looked away across his wide acres to the distant village. For a
-while he was lost in revery and the others waited for him, but he came
-to himself with a start and turned brusquely, though not unkindly, to
-Philip Marsham.</p>
-
-<p>"Come now, begone, you vagabond cockerel! If a farm is robbed from
-here to the Channel, or a hundred miles the other way, I'll rear the
-county upon your track and scour the countryside from the Severn to
-the Thames. I'll publish the tale of you the country over and see you
-hanged when they net you."</p>
-
-<p>He stood there looking very fierce as he spoke, but there was a laugh
-in his eyes, and when Phil turned to go, he flung the lad a silver coin.</p>
-
-<p>Phil saw the gesture and picked the money from the air, for he was
-quick with his fingers, but before he caught it Sir John seemed to have
-forgotten him; for he bent his head and walked away with his eyes on
-the ground. There was something in the knight's manner that stung the
-lad, who looked at the coin in his hand and almost as quick as thought
-hurled it back at Sir John.</p>
-
-<p>"How now?" cried Sir John, turning about.</p>
-
-<p>"I'll take no money that is thrown me," Phil replied.</p>
-
-<p>"So!" Sir John stood looking at him. "I have a liking for thee," he
-said, and smiled. But he then, it seemed, again forgot that there was
-such a lad, for he once more bent his head and walked away with the
-lady who had stood above them in the wood.</p>
-
-<p>As for Phil, he did not so lightly forget Sir John. He watched him
-until he had fixed in his mind every line of his tall, broad figure,
-every gesture of his hand and every toss of his head. He then walked
-off, and when he turned to look back a last time Sir John was gone.</p>
-
-<p>"What was that he said of hanging?" Martin whispered.</p>
-
-<p>The fellow's face was so white and his lips and his bruises were so
-blue that Phil laughed at him before his eyes, who thereupon lost his
-temper and snarled, "It's all well enough to take things lightly, you
-who got no beating; but hanging is no laughing matter."</p>
-
-<p>He then looked cautiously around and ran back the way they had come.
-When he returned he held between thumb and forefinger the silver coin
-Phil had thrown back at the burly knight. Martin bought food with it
-and Phil, though he thought it would have choked him, helped him eat
-it; and so they survived the day.</p>
-
-<p>"That keeper, Barwick," Martin said that evening as the two tramped
-west along the highway, "is my brother, and an ungrateful wretch he is."</p>
-
-<p>"I knew he was your brother," Phil said. But he was not thinking of
-Martin or his brother. He was thinking of the old knight in the scarlet
-cloak so bravely decked with silver lace. There was only one man Philip
-Marsham had ever known, who had such a rough, just, heavy-handed humour
-as Sir John Bristol or any such indomitable sense of fair play, and
-that man was Phil's dead father.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br />
-<small>THE ROSE OF DEVON</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>They came to Bristol over the hills that lie to the south of the town.
-They had lost time on the way and had grown weary and sore of foot; and
-finding at last that there was little hope of overtaking at Bideford
-the thin man with whom they had parted on the road, they had turned
-north in Somerset at the end of Polton Hill. They passed first across
-a lonely waste where for miles the only human being they saw was an
-aged man gathering faggots; then over the Mendip Hills and through
-rough valleys and rougher uplands, and so at last to the height whence
-Bristol and Avon Valley and Bristol Channel in the east lie spread in a
-vast panorama.</p>
-
-<p>Far away in Hungroad and Kingroad ships were anchored, but the vessels
-at the wharves of Bristol lay with their keels in mud, for the tide was
-out and the tides of Bristol, as all know, have a wonderful great flow
-and ebb.</p>
-
-<p>The two went on into the town, where there were seafaring men standing
-about and talking of ships, which gave Phil Marsham a feeling of being
-once more at home after his inland travels; and passing this one tavern
-and another, they came to a square where there was a whipping-post and
-a stocks, and a man in the stocks.</p>
-
-<p>Now a man in stocks was a pleasing sight to Phil, for he was not so old
-that he missed the humour of it, and he paused to grin at the unlucky
-wight who bore with ill grace the jeers of the urchins that had
-assembled to do him honour; but when Martin saw the fellow he looked a
-second time and turned very hastily round. Straightway seizing Phil by
-the arm he whispered hoarsely, "Come now, we must hie us away again,
-and that speedily."</p>
-
-<p>"Why in so great haste?" Phil returned. "Here is a pleasant jest. Let
-us stay a while. Who knows but some day we may ourselves sit in the
-bilboes and yonder ballad-maker may take his fill of pleasure at our
-misfortune. Why, then, turn about is fair play. Let us enjoy his while
-there's time." And he waited with quiet glee for Martin's angry reply.</p>
-
-<p>"Fool!" Martin whispered. "Stay and be hanged, an thou wilt."</p>
-
-<p>Thereupon Martin posted in all haste back the way he had come and Phil,
-of no mind to be left now, since they had journeyed together thus far,
-followed at his heels with a curiosity that he was intent on satisfying.</p>
-
-<p>"'Sin,' according to the proverb," he called after Martin, "'begins
-with an itch and ends with a scar,' but methinks thy scars, which are
-numerous, are all an-itch."</p>
-
-<p>"Hist, fool," Martin snarled. "Be still! For ha'pence I'd slit thy
-throat to still thy tongue. I swear I can already feel the hemp at my
-weasand. It burns and spreads like a tetter." And he made haste up out
-of the town till despite his great weight and short wind he had Phil
-puffing at his heels.</p>
-
-<p>"This is queer talk of ropes and hangings. It buzzeth through thy
-noddle like bees in clover. In faith, though thy folly be great, yet it
-sorely presses upon thee, for I have seldom seen a man walk faster. Yet
-at thine ordinary gait a tin-pedlar's broken-down jade can set a pace
-too fast for thee to follow."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, laugh at me! Wouldst thou stay for sugared pills of pleasure with
-the hangman at thy heels?"</p>
-
-<p>"What has a poor devil in stocks to do with the hangman, prithee? And
-why this fierce haste?"</p>
-
-<p>"Th' art no better than a gooseling&mdash;fit for tavern quarrels. And did
-you never see a man dance on air? 'Tis a sight to catch the breath in
-the throat and make an emptiness in a man's belly."</p>
-
-<p>"There be no hangings without reason."</p>
-
-<p>"Reason? Law, logic, and the Switzers can be hired to fight for any
-man, they say. 'Tis true, in any event, of the law. I've seen the
-learned men in wigs wringing a poor man's withers and shaping the
-halter to his neck."</p>
-
-<p>They had talked breathlessly at long intervals in their hasty flight,
-and thus talking they had come out of the town and up from the valley;
-nor would Martin stay to rest till from the southern hill that had
-given them their first prospect of Bristol city they looked back upon
-the houses and the river and the ships. Martin breathed more easily
-then and mopped his forehead and sat down until his wildly beating
-heart was quieter.</p>
-
-<p>"To Bideford we must go, after all," said he, "and 'twere better by far
-had we never turned from the straight road."</p>
-
-<p>"I am of no mind to go farther," Phil replied, looking back. "There
-will be more vessels sailing out of Bristol than out of Bideford. A man
-can choose in which to go."</p>
-
-<p>Martin gulped and rubbed his throat. "Nay, I'll not hear to it. Daniel
-went but once into the lion's den."</p>
-
-<p>He sighed mightily as he thought of begging his long way through
-Somerset and Devon, for he was a big heavy man and lazy and short of
-wind; but he would not go back, though he refused to speak further of
-his reason for it; and Phil, though in truth he liked Martin little,
-was too easy-going to part thus with his companion of the road. The lad
-was young, and the world was wide, and it was still spring in England.</p>
-
-<p>So they turned toward the hills, which were blue and purple in the
-setting sun,&mdash;a shepherd, did he but know it, lives in halls more
-splendid than a king's,&mdash;and set forth upon their journey through the
-rough lands of Somerset. They went astray among the mines but found
-their way to Wells where, as they came out from the town, they passed
-a gallows, which gave Martin such a start that he stopped for neither
-breath nor speech until he had left that significant emblem of the law
-a mile behind him. They went through Glastonbury, where report has it
-that Joseph of Arimathea and King Arthur and King Edgar lie buried,
-and through Bridgewater, where to their wonder there was a ship of a
-hundred tons riding in the Parret. They went through Dulverton on a
-market day, and crossed the Dunsbrook by the stone bridge and so passed
-into Devon. They went on over heath and hill and through woods and
-green valleys until at the end of seven days from Bristol&mdash;for time and
-again they had lost their way, and a sailor on shore is at best like a
-lame horse on a rough road&mdash;they crossed the Taw at Barnstable. Again
-going astray, they went nearly to Torrington before they learned their
-blunder and turned down the valley of the Torridge. But all things
-come to an end at last, and one pleasant evening they crossed the
-ancient bridge built on stately Gothic arches into the populous town of
-Bideford.</p>
-
-<p>At the river front there lay a street the better part of a mile long,
-in which were the custom house and a great quay, and there they saw
-ships of good burden loading and unloading in the very bosom of the
-town, as the scribe hath it. Thither Phil would have gone straightly
-but Martin shook his head. So turning up from the river, they passed
-another long street, where the houses of wealthy merchants stood, and
-this, too, Martin hastened quickly by. He shot glances to one side and
-the other as if fearing lest he see faces that he knew, and led his
-companion by an obscure way, as night was falling, to a cottage whence
-a dim light shone through a casement window.</p>
-
-<p>Standing on the rough doorstone under the outcropping thatch, which
-projected beyond the line of the eaves to shield the door from rain, he
-softly knocked. There was no answer, no sound, but the door presently
-moved ajar as if by its own will.</p>
-
-<p>"Who knocks?" an old woman whispered. "'Tis that dark I cannot see thy
-face."</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis thine eyes are ailing. Come, open the door and bid us enter."</p>
-
-<p>"Thy voice hath a familiar ring but I know thee not. Who art thou?"</p>
-
-<p>"We be two honest men."</p>
-
-<p>"Ah, two honest men? And what, prithee, are two honest men doing here?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, 'tis a fair thrust and bites both ways! Thou old shrew, dost bar
-the door to Martin Barwick?"</p>
-
-<p>"So 'tis thou. I believe it even is. Enter then, ere the watch spy
-thee. Th' art a plain fool to stand here quibbling thus, though 'tis to
-be expected, since thou wert ever quicker of thy tongue than thy wit.
-But who's thy fellow?"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, thou old shrew, open to us. He is to be one of us, though a
-London man by birth."</p>
-
-<p>"One of us, say'st thou? Enter and welcome, then, young sir. Mother
-Taylor bids thee welcome. One of us? 'Tis the more pity so few of the
-gentlemen are left in port."</p>
-
-<p>"The Old One?"</p>
-
-<p>"He hath sailed long since." She closed the door behind them, and the
-three stood together in the dark passage. "Hast money?"</p>
-
-<p>"Not a groat."</p>
-
-<p>She sighed heavily. "I shall be ruined. Seven o' the gentlemen ha'
-sailed owing me."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, thou old shrew, had I a half&mdash;nay, had I the tenth part of the
-gold thou hast taken from us and laid away wherever thy hiding-places
-are, I'd go no more to sea. But thou know'st what thou know'st, and
-there's not one among us but will pay his score. The wonder is that of
-them thou could'st hang by a word none has slit thy scrawny throat."</p>
-
-<p>"Aye, they pay, they pay. And the gentlemen bear Mother Taylor nought
-but love. How else could they do their business but for good Mother
-Taylor?" She led them into a little back room where there was a fire
-and a singing kettle; and as she scuttled with a crooked, nimble gait
-from one window to another to make sure that every shutter was fast
-closed, in her cracked old voice she bade them sit.</p>
-
-<p>To his prudent companion, whose quick glance was marking every door
-and window,&mdash;for who knows when a man shall have need to leave in
-haste a sailor's inn?&mdash;quoth Martin, "The old witch is a rare hand to
-sell a cargo got&mdash;thou can'st guess well enough how; and the man who
-would bring a waggon-load of spirits past the customs on a dark night
-or would bargain with a Dartmoor shepherd for wool secretly sheared,
-can lay the matter before her and go his way, knowing she will do his
-business better than he could do it himself. Yea, a man's honour and
-life are safer with her than with any lord in England."</p>
-
-<p>She showed by a grunt that she had heard him but otherwise paid no
-attention to what he said. She brought food from a cupboard and laid
-the table by the fire, and going into a back room, she drew a foaming
-pitcher of beer.</p>
-
-<p>"No wine?" cried Martin. "Mother Taylor has no wine? Come, thou old
-beldame, serve us a stronger tipple."</p>
-
-<p>She laughed shrilly. "The beer," said she, "is from Frome-Selwood."</p>
-
-<p>"Why, then, I must needs drink and say nought, since it is common
-report that the gentry choose it, when well aged, rather than the wine
-of Portugal or France. But my heart was set on good wine or stronger
-spirits."</p>
-
-<p>"He who sails on the morning tide must go sober to bed else he may rue
-his choice. Aye, an' 'tis rare fine beer."</p>
-
-<p>Her old bent back fitted into her bent old chair. Her face settled into
-a myriad wrinkles from which her crooked nose projected like a fish in
-a bulging net. She was very old and very shrewd, and though there was
-something unspeakably hard in her small, cold eyes, Martin trusted her
-as thus far he had trusted no one they had met. Even to Phil she gave
-an odd sense of confidence in her complete loyalty.</p>
-
-<p>At Phil she cast many glances, quick and sharp like a bird's, but she
-never spoke to him nor he to her.</p>
-
-<p>It was Martin who again spoke up, having blunted the edge of his
-hunger. "And now, you old witch, who's in port and where shall we find
-the softest berths? For you've made it plain that since trust us you
-must, you will trust us little&mdash;that is to say, it is not in thy head
-that our score shall mount high."</p>
-
-<p>She chuckled down in her skinny old crop. "Let us see. The Old One has
-gone and that's done. You were late."</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis a long road and we went astray."</p>
-
-<p>"There's the Nestor and the Essay. They will be off soon; the one to
-Liverpool for salt, t' other to Ireland for wool."</p>
-
-<p>Martin thereupon set down his pot of beer and significantly rubbed his
-throat, at which the old woman cackled with shrill laughter. "Aye, th'
-art o'er well known in Liverpool. Well, let us consider again. There's
-the Rose of Devon, new come from Plymouth. I hear she's never touched
-at Bideford before and her master hails from Dorset."</p>
-
-<p>"His name?"</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis Candle."</p>
-
-<p>Martin laughed boisterously. "A bright and shining name! But I know him
-not and will chance a singeing. What voyage does she make?"</p>
-
-<p>"She goeth to fetch cod from Newfoundland." The old woman saw him
-hesitate. "A barren voyage, think'st thou? Nay, 'twere well for one of
-the gentlemen to look into that trade. Who knows?"</p>
-
-<p>"True, old mother witch, who knows?" Martin tapped the table. "Can'st
-arrange it?"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay. But I can start the wedge."</p>
-
-<p>"We'll go," said Martin at last. "But now for bed. We've been a weary
-while on the road."</p>
-
-<p>It was a great bed in a small room under the thatch; and as they lay
-there on the good goose-feathers in the dark, Martin said, "We'll sail
-in this Rose of Devon, lad."</p>
-
-<p>Phil, already nearly asleep, stirred and roused up. "Any port in a
-storm," he mumbled. Then, becoming wider awake, he asked, "What is all
-this talk of 'the gentlemen' and who, prithee, is the Old One?"</p>
-
-<p>"Ah, a natural question." Though the room was dark as Egypt, Phil knew
-by Martin's voice&mdash;for he could recognize every inflection and change
-in tone&mdash;that the sly, crafty look was creeping over his fat, red face.
-"Well," Martin continued after a moment of silence, "by 'the gentlemen'
-she means a few seafaring men that keep company together by custom and
-stop here when ashore&mdash;all fine, honest fellows as a man may be proud
-to know. I have hopes that some day you'll be one of us, Phil my lad,
-and some day I'll tell you more. As for the Old One, it very curiously
-happens that you have met with him. Do you recall to mind the thin man
-I quarrelled with, that first day?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea."</p>
-
-<p>"That is the Old One, and Tom Jordan is his proper name."</p>
-
-<p>It was Martin, after all, who fell asleep first, for Phil lay in the
-great bed in the small room, thinking of all that had happened since
-the day he fled from Moll Stevens's alehouse. There was Colin Samson,
-whose dirk he wore; there was the wild-eyed, black-haired man with the
-great book and the woeful tale; there were Martin, and Tom Jordan, "the
-Old One"; there were the inn and the old lady and gentleman&mdash;it all
-seemed so utterly unreal!&mdash;and Nell Entick, and Sir John Bristol. He
-fell asleep thinking of Nell and Sir John and dreamed of marrying Nell
-and keeping a tavern, to which the bluff old knight came in the guise
-of a very aged gentleman from Little Grimsby with a coachman who went
-poaching pheasants in the tavern yard.</p>
-
-<p>It was early morning when Mother Taylor called them down to breakfast
-at a table burdened with good food such as they had not eaten for many
-long days. She sat by the fire, a bent old woman in a round-backed
-little chair, watching them with keen small eyes while they ate, and
-smiling in a way that set her wrinkles all a-quiver to see them empty
-dish after dish.</p>
-
-<p>"Th' art a good old witch, Mother Taylor, though the Devil cry nay,"
-said Martin. "Though thy score be high never did'st thou grudge a man
-the meat he ate."</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis not for nought the gentlemen love Mother Taylor," she quavered.
-"What can a woman do when her beauty's gone but hold a man by the food
-she sets before him? 'Tis the secret of blessed marriage, Martin, and
-heaven send thee a wife as knows it like I!"</p>
-
-<p>"Beauty, thou old beldame! What did'st thou ever know of beauty? But
-beauty is a matter of little moment. Hast thou prepared the way for us?"</p>
-
-<p>She laughed in shrill delight at his rough jesting. "Aye, I ha' sent a
-messenger. Seek out the Rose of Devon and do thy part, and all shall be
-well."</p>
-
-<p>"And whence does good Captain Candle expect his men?"</p>
-
-<p>"Say to Captain Candle that thou and this handsome young gentleman who
-says so little are come from the Mersey, where thy vessel, the Pride o'
-Lancashire, lies to be repaired, and that Master Stephen Gangley sent
-thee."</p>
-
-<p>She looked at Phil, who had learned long before to hold his tongue in
-strange places, and he smiled; but Martin laughed hoarsely. "Th' art
-the Devil's own daughter. And does this Master Stephen Gangley in all
-truth dwell in Liverpool?"</p>
-
-<p>"Dost think my wits are wandering, Martin? Nay, I be old, but not so
-old as that. Go hastily through the town lest thou be seen and known.
-Thou, of all the gentlemen, most needs make haste."</p>
-
-<p>The two stopped just inside the door. "You have chalked down the score
-against us?"</p>
-
-<p>She laughed in her skinny throat. "I be old, but not so old as to
-forget the score. The gentlemen always pay."</p>
-
-<p>She pushed Martin out and shut the door behind him, then, seizing Phil
-by the arm, she whispered, "Leave him."</p>
-
-<p>Martin angrily thrust the door open again and she gave Phil a shove
-that sent him stumbling over the threshold. The door slammed shut and
-they heard the bolt slide.</p>
-
-<p>"They pay," Martin muttered. "Yea, they pay in full and the old witch
-hath got rich thereby, for 'tis pay or hang. So much does she know of
-all that goes on at sea! In faith, I sorely mistrust she is a witch in
-all earnest; but even be it so, a most useful witch."</p>
-
-<p>As the two came into the town they saw at a distance a crowd gathering.
-Dogs barked and boys shouted and men came running and laughing, which
-seemed to give promise of rare sport of one kind or another.</p>
-
-<p>"See!" cried Phil, catching Martin by the arm. "Here's a game. Come,
-let us join the cry."</p>
-
-<p>"Thou art a very pattern of blockishness," quoth Martin. "Would'st see
-us in pillory, egged, turnipped, nay, beaten at the post?"</p>
-
-<p>"Come, old frog, I for one will run the hazard."</p>
-
-<p>"Old frog, is it?" Martin's face flamed redder than before. "An we
-loiter there'll be sharp eyes upon us. My very throat is itching at the
-thought. Justice is swift. Who knows but we'll swing by sundown? Hast
-never considered the pains of hanging? The way they dance and twitch is
-enough to take the sap out of a man's legs."</p>
-
-<p>Martin's fears were an old story and the lad heeded them so little,
-save when he would make game of them, that he never even smiled. "See!"
-he cried. "There's a man in their midst. Stay! Who is he? He is&mdash;yea,
-he is the very one, come back to Bideford despite his fears. And it
-seems the townsfolk know him well."</p>
-
-<p>The jeering mob parted and revealed a lank man with a great book. His
-voice rose above their clamour, "O well beloved, O well beloved, never
-was a man perplexed with such diversity of thoughts!"</p>
-
-<p>But Martin was gone, and Phil hastening after him saw a face in a
-window, which was watching Martin hurry through the town. And when Phil
-pursued Martin the eyes in the window scanned the lad from head to foot.</p>
-
-<p>They found lying at the quay the vessel they sought, and a brave
-frigate she was, with high poop and nobly carved fiddlehead and sharp,
-deep cutwater. The gun-deck ports were closed, but on the main deck was
-a great show of ordnance with new carriages and new yellow breechings.
-There were swivel-guns on the forecastle and the quarter-deck and there
-was a finely wrought lantern of bronze and glass at the stern. But as
-they came up to her, a cloud hid the sun and the gilded carving ceased
-to shine and the bright colours lost their brilliance and her black,
-high sides loomed up sombrely, and to Phil she seemed for the moment
-very dark and forbidding.</p>
-
-<p>Of this Martin appeared to have no perception, for he smiled and
-whispered, "Mother Taylor hath done well by us. This Rose of Devon is a
-tall ship and by all the signs she will be well found."</p>
-
-<p>There were men standing about the capstan on the main deck and voices
-came from the forecastle; but on the poop there leaned against the rail
-to watch the two come down the quay a single man, of an age in the
-middle-thirties, with a keen, strong face, who wore a good coat on his
-back and had the manner of a king in a small island.</p>
-
-<p>They stepped under the poop and Martin doffed his hat, having assumed
-his most ingratiating smile. "An it please you, sir," said he, "have I
-the honour to address Captain Candle of the Rose of Devon frigate?"</p>
-
-<p>"I am Captain Candle."</p>
-
-<p>"Good morrow to thee, sir, and Master Stephen Gangley of Liverpool sent
-us&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, I received his letter. I know him not, but it seems he knows
-friends of mine. You are over heavy for a good seaman but your fellow
-takes my eye."</p>
-
-<p>Martin stammered and flamed up with anger, and perceiving this, the
-captain smiled.</p>
-
-<p>"Let it be," he said. "I can make room for the two, and to judge by
-your looks, if you are slow aloft at handling and hauling, we can use
-you to excellent purpose as a cook. Of good food and plenty it is plain
-you know the secret."</p>
-
-<p>He watched policy contend with anger in Martin's face and his own
-expression gave no hint of what went on in his mind; but there was that
-about him which made Phil believe he was inwardly laughing, and Phil
-had an instant liking for the man, which, if one might judge by the
-captain's glance or two, was returned.</p>
-
-<p>"You may sign the articles in the tavern yonder," he said. "You are
-none too early, for we sail in an hour's time to get the tide."</p>
-
-<p>As Phil followed Martin into the tavern he saw a bustle and flurry in
-the street, but it passed and while they waited by the fire for the
-captain and the agent to come with the articles he thought no more of
-it.</p>
-
-<p>They came at last, and other seamen with them, and spread the articles
-on the oaken table where one man might sign after another. And when
-Martin's turn was come, he tried to speak of wages, but the captain
-named the figure and bade him sign, and before he thought, he had done
-so. He stood back, cursing under his breath, and when the captain named
-a higher wage for Phil, Martin's cursing became an audible mumble,
-which drew from master and agent a sharp glance. Though Martin smiled
-and looked about as if to see whence the sound came, he deceived no one.</p>
-
-<p>The men filed out of the tavern, walking soberly behind the master, and
-proceeded down the quay to their ship. Their feet clattered on the
-cobbles and they swung along at a rolling gait. Some were sober and
-some were drunk; and some were merry and some were sad. Some eyed one
-another with the curiosity that a man feels if he must sit, for months
-to come, at cheek and jowl with strangers; and some bent their eyes on
-the ground as if ill at ease and uncertain of their own discretion in
-thus committing themselves to no one knew what adventures in distant
-seas and lands.</p>
-
-<p>Thus they came to the ship, following at the master's heels, and thus
-they filed on board, while Captain Candle stood at one side and looked
-them over as they passed.</p>
-
-<p>To a young fellow leaning over the waist one of the men called, "Well
-met, Will Canty!"</p>
-
-<p>Looking up, Phil himself then caught the eye of a lad of his own years
-who was returning the hail of a former shipmate, and since each of the
-youths found something to his taste in the appearance of the other, on
-the deck of the ship they joined company.</p>
-
-<p>"You come late," said the one who had answered to the name of Will
-Canty. "Unless I am much mistaken, you were not on board yesterday."</p>
-
-<p>He was tall and slender and very straight, and he carried his head with
-an erectness that seemed at first glance to savour of vanity. His face,
-too, was of a sober cast and his expression restrained. Yet he seemed a
-likable fellow, withal, and one whom a man could trust.</p>
-
-<p>"I have not until now set foot on this deck," Phil replied. "But
-having seen many vessels in my time, I venture that the Rose of Devon
-is a staunch ship, as Captain Candle, it is plain to see, is a proper
-master."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, both sayings are true. I know, for I have sailed before in this
-ship with Captain Candle."</p>
-
-<p>An order bawled from the quarter-deck caused a great stir, and for the
-moment put an end to their talk, but they were to see more of each
-other.</p>
-
-<p>Casting off the moorings in answer to the word of command, the men
-sprang to the capstan. It was "Heave, my bullies!" and "Pull, my hearts
-of gold!" Some, in a boat, carried out an anchor and others laboured
-at the capstan. The old frigate stirred uneasily and slipped away from
-the wharf, rolling slightly with the motion of the sea, and thus they
-kedged her into the tide.</p>
-
-<p>"Bend your passeree to the mainsail!"</p>
-
-<p>Back came a roaring chorus, "Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>"Get your sails to the yards there&mdash;about your gear on all hands!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!" men here and there replied.</p>
-
-<p>"Hoist sails half-mast high&mdash;make ready to set sail!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>"Cross your yards!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>"Bring the cable to the capstan&mdash;Boatswain, fetch the anchor
-aboard!&mdash;Break ground!&mdash;Up there, a hand to the foretop and loose the
-foretopsail!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!" And the first man to set foot on the ratlines was running
-up the rigging.</p>
-
-<p>It was Philip Marsham, for to him the sea was home and there was no
-night so dark he could not find his way about a ship. Nor did his
-promptness escape the sharp eye of Captain Candle.</p>
-
-<p>Now, while the captain stood with folded arms at the poop, his mate
-cried, "Come, my hearts, heave up your anchor! Come one and all! Who
-says <i>Amen</i>? O brave hearts, the anchor a-peak!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>"Heave out your topsails!&mdash;Haul your sheets!&mdash;Let fall your
-foresail!&mdash;You at the helm, there, steer steady before the wind!"</p>
-
-<p>On all the vessels in the harbour, and all along the quay and the
-streets, men had stopped their work to see the Rose of Devon sail. But
-though most of them stood idle and silent, there was a sudden flurry
-on the quay where but now she had been lying, and two men burst out,
-calling after her and waving their arms.</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis the beadle and the constable," the men muttered. "Who of us hath
-got to sea to escape the law?"</p>
-
-<p>The mate turned to the master, but the master firmly shook his head.
-"Come, seize the tide," he called. "We will stay for no man."</p>
-
-<p>"Heave out the foretopsail&mdash;heave out the main topsail&mdash;haul home your
-topsail sheets!"</p>
-
-<p>The men aloft let the lesser sails fall; the men on deck sheeted them
-home and hoisted them up. The mate kept bawling a multitude of orders:
-"Haul in the cable there and coil it in small fakes! Haul the cat! A
-bitter! Belay! Luff, my man, luff! You, there, with the shank painter,
-make fast your anchor!"</p>
-
-<p>Then came the voice of the master, which always his mate echoed, "Let
-fall your mainsail!"</p>
-
-<p>And the echo, "Let fall your mainsail!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>"On with your bonnets and drabblers!"</p>
-
-<p>And again came the echo from the mate, "On with your bonnets and
-drabblers!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>The great guns ranged along the deck&mdash;each bound fast by its new
-breechings&mdash;with their linstocks and sponges and ladles and rammers,
-made no idle show of warlike strength. There was too often need to let
-their grim voices sound at bay, for those were wild, lawless days.</p>
-
-<p>Such a ship as the Rose of Devon frigate, standing out for the open
-sea, is a sight the world no longer affords. Those ships are "gone,
-gone, gone with lost Atlantis." Their lofty poops, their little
-bonaventure masts, their lateen sails aft, their high forecastles
-and tall bowsprits with the square spritsail flaunted before the
-fiddlehead, came down from an even earlier day; for the Rose of Devon
-had been an ancient craft when King James died and King Charles
-succeeded to the throne. But she was a fine tall ship and staunch
-notwithstanding her years, and there was newly gilded carving on bow
-and stern and a new band of crimson ran her length. With her great
-sails spread she thrust her nose into the heavy swell that went rolling
-up the Bristol Channel, and nodding and curtseying to old Neptune, she
-entered upon his dominions.</p>
-
-<p>She was, as I have said, a brave tall ship, yet, despite her gilded
-carving and her band of crimson, her towering sides which were painted
-black gave her a singularly dark appearance, and she put to sea like a
-shadow out of older days.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a><br />
-<small>THE SHIP'S LIAR</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>Death by land is a sobering thing and works many changes; but to my
-thought death at sea is more terrible, for there is a vast loneliness,
-with only a single ship in the midst of it, and an empty hammock for
-days and weeks and even months, to keep a man in mind of what has
-happened; and death at sea may work as many changes as death by land.</p>
-
-<p>Now the Rose of Devon was a week from England when a footrope parted
-and the boatswain pitched down, clutching at the great belly of the
-sail, and plunged out of sight. And what could a man do to save him?
-They never saw him after that first wild plunge. There, aloft, was the
-parted rope, its ends frayed out and hanging. Below decks was the empty
-berth. The blustering old boatswain, with his great roaring voice and
-his quick ear for a tune, had gone upon the ultimate adventure which
-all must face, each man for himself; but they only said, "Did you see
-the wild look in his eyes when he fell?" And, "I fear we shall hear his
-pipe of nights." And, "'Tis a queer thought that Neddie Hart is to lie
-in old Davy Jones's palace, with the queer sea-women all about him,
-awaiting for his old shipmates."</p>
-
-<p>Presently the master's boy came forward into the forecastle, where the
-men off duty were sitting and talking of the one who had fallen so
-far, had sunk so deep, had gone on a journey so long that they should
-never see him again; and quietly&mdash;for the boy was much bedevilled and
-trembled with fright to think of putting his head, as it were, into the
-mouth of the lion&mdash;he crept behind Philip Marsham and whispered in his
-ear, "The master would see thee in the great cabin."</p>
-
-<p>They sat at close quarters in the forecastle of the Rose of Devon, and
-the boy had barely room to pass the table and the benches, for the
-men had crowded in and put their heads together; but for once they
-were too intent on their own thoughts to heed his coming or his going,
-which gave him vast comfort. (Little enough comfort the poor devil got,
-between the men forward and the officers aft!)</p>
-
-<p>So Phil rose and followed.</p>
-
-<p>The great cabin, when he entered, was empty. He stood at loss, waiting,
-but curiously observed meanwhile the rich hangings and the deep chairs
-and the cupboards filled with porcelain ware. There was plate on the
-cabin table and a rich cloak lay thrown loosely over a chair; and he
-thought to himself that those deep-sea captains lived like princes, as
-indeed they did.</p>
-
-<p>He shifted his weight from foot to foot in growing uneasiness. The boy
-had disappeared. There was no sound of voice or step. Then, as the ship
-rolled and Phil put out a foot to brace himself, a door swung open and
-revealed on the old-fashioned walk that ran across the stem under the
-poop, the lean, big-boned figure of Captain Francis Candle.</p>
-
-<p>The master of the Rose of Devon stood with folded arms and bent head,
-but though his head was bent, his eyes, the lad could see, were peering
-from under his heavy brows at the horizon. He swayed as the ship
-rolled, and remained intent on his thoughts, which so absorbed him that
-he had quite forgotten sending the boy for Philip Marsham.</p>
-
-<p>So Phil waited; and the broad hat that hung on the bulkhead scraped
-backward and forward as the ship plunged into the trough and rose on
-the swell; and Captain Candle remained intent on his thoughts; and a
-sea bird circled over the wake of the ship.</p>
-
-<p>After a long time the master turned about and walked into the cabin
-and, there espying Philip Marsham, he smiled and said, "I was remiss. I
-had forgotten you." He threw aside the cloak that lay on the chair and
-sat down.</p>
-
-<p>"Sit you down," he said with a nod. "You are a practised seaman, no
-lame, decrepit fellow who serves for underwages. Have you mastered the
-theory?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why, sir, I am not unacquainted with astrolabe and quadrant, and on
-scales and tables I have spent much labour."</p>
-
-<p>"So!" And his manner showed surprise. Then, "Inkpot and quill are
-before you. Choose a fair sheet and put down thereon the problem I
-shall set you."</p>
-
-<p>The captain leaned back and half closed his eyes while Phil spread the
-paper and dipped the quill.</p>
-
-<p>"Let us say," he finally continued, "that two ships sail from one port.
-The first sails south-south-west a certain distance; then altering
-her course, she sails due west ninety-two leagues. The second ship,
-having sailed six-score leagues, meets with the first ship. I demand
-the second ship's course and rhomb, and how many leagues the first ship
-sailed south-south-west. Now, my man, how go you to work?"</p>
-
-<p>Phil studied the problem as he had set it down, and wrinkled his brows
-over it, while Captain Candle lay back with a flicker of a smile on his
-lips and watched the lad struggle with his thoughts.</p>
-
-<p>After a time Phil raised his head. "First, sir," said he, "I shall
-draw the first ship's rhomb thus, from A unto E, which shall be
-south-south-west. Then I shall lay a line from A unto C as the ninety
-leagues that she sailed west. Next I shall lay my line from C to D, and
-further, as her south-west course. Then I shall lay from A a line that
-shall correspond to the six-score leagues the second ship sailed, which
-cuts at D the line I drew before." As he talked, he worked with his
-pen, and the master, rising as if in surprise, bent over the table and
-watched every motion.</p>
-
-<p>The pen drew lines and arcs and lettered them and wrote out a problem
-in proportions. Hesitating, the point crawled over columns of figures.</p>
-
-<p>"The rhomb of the second ship," said Phil at last, "is degrees
-sixty-seven, and minutes thirty-six. Her course is near
-west-south-west. And the first ship sailed forty-nine leagues."</p>
-
-<p>Tapping the table, as one does who meditates, Captain Candle looked
-more sharply at the lad. "You are clever with your pen."</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis owing to the good Dr. Arber at Roehampton," Phil replied. "Had I
-abode with him longer, I had been cleverer still, for he was an able
-scholar; but there was much in school I had no taste for."</p>
-
-<p>The captain's eyes searched his face. "I sent for you," he said,
-"because I was minded to make you my boatswain. But now, if my mate
-were lost, I swear I'd seat you at mine own table."</p>
-
-<p>Phil rose.</p>
-
-<p>"Go then, Master Boatswain. But stay! You and your comerado make a
-strange pair. How came you bedfellows?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why, sir, we met upon the road&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, not at sea! Not at sea! Enough is said. Begone, Master Boatswain,
-begone!"</p>
-
-<p>"How now," cried Martin when Phil passed him on the deck. "Art thou
-called before the mast?" And he laughed till he shook.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, he hath made me his boatswain."</p>
-
-<p>"Thou?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, comerado."</p>
-
-<p>"Thou? A mere gooseling? The master's on the road to Bedlam! Why here
-am I&mdash;" Martin's red face flamed hot.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, he spoke of thee."</p>
-
-<p>"Ah!"</p>
-
-<p>"Quoth he, thou art a fine fellow, but hot-tempered, Martin, and
-overbold."</p>
-
-<p>"Ah!" The crafty, sly look came upon Martin's face and he puffed with
-pride; but Phil, delighting to see the jest take effect, laughed before
-his eyes, which sorely perplexed him.</p>
-
-<p>"A fine fellow, but overbold," Martin muttered, as he coiled the cable
-in neat fakes. "Yea, I did not believe he thought so well of me. From
-the glances he hath bestowed upon me, it was in my mind he was a narrow
-man,&mdash;" Martin smiled and dallied over his work,&mdash;"one with no eye for
-a mariner of parts and skill. 'A fine fellow, but overbold!' Nay, that
-is fair speech and it seems he hath a very searching observation."</p>
-
-<p>Standing erect, Martin folded his arms and swelled like a turkey-cock.
-His eyes being on the horizon and his back toward the watchful mate, he
-remained unaware that he had attracted the mate's attention.</p>
-
-<p>"A fine fellow, but overbold," he repeated and smiled with a very
-haughty air.</p>
-
-<p>The mate, casting his eyes about the deck, picked up a handy end of
-rope and made a knot in it. One man and another and another became
-aware of the play that the mate and Martin were about to set and,
-grinning hugely, they paused in their work to watch, even though they
-risked getting themselves into such a plight as Martin's. The captain
-came to the break of the quarter-deck and, perceiving the fun afoot,
-leaned on the swivel-gun. Slowly his humour mastered his dignity and a
-smile twitched at his lips.</p>
-
-<p>"A fine fellow, but overbold," Martin was murmuring for the fourth
-time, when the rope whistled and wound about his ribs and the knot
-fetched up on his belly with a thump that knocked his wind clean out.</p>
-
-<p>He made a horrible face, gasping for breath, and his ruddy colour
-darkened to purple. Reaching for his knife he whirled round and drew
-steel.</p>
-
-<p>"What rakehell muckworm, what base stinkard, what&mdash;" He met the cold
-eye of the mate and for a moment flinched, then, burning with his
-own folly, he cried, "Thou villain, to strike thus a man the captain
-himself called a fine fellow but overbold!"</p>
-
-<p>A snicker grew in the silence and swelled into a rumble of laughter;
-then, by the forecastle bulkhead, a man began to bawl, "A liar! A liar!"</p>
-
-<p>The mate stopped short and his hand fell.</p>
-
-<p>A score of voices took up the cry&mdash;"A liar! A liar!"&mdash;and Martin turned
-pale.</p>
-
-<p>Captain Candle on the quarter-deck was laughing softly and the mate in
-glee slapped his thigh. "Thou yerking, firking, jerking tinker," said
-he, "dost hear the cry? 'Tis a Monday morning and they are crying thee
-at the mainmast."</p>
-
-<p>"A liar! A liar!" the men bawled, crowding close about.</p>
-
-<p>"But 'tis no lie. Or this foully deceitful comerado, this half-fledged
-boatswain&mdash;" It came suddenly upon Martin that he had been sorely
-gulled, and that to reveal the truth would fix upon him the lasting
-ridicule of his shipmates. He swelled in fury and gave them angry
-glances but they only laughed the louder, then, rope in hand, the mate
-stepped toward him.</p>
-
-<p>Though he made a motion as if to stand his ground, at sight of the rope
-Martin's hand shook in his haste to thrust his knife back into the
-sheath.</p>
-
-<p>It was the old custom of the sea that they should hail as a liar the
-man first caught in a lie on a Monday morning and proclaim him thus
-from the mainmast, and unhappy was the man thus hailed, for thereby
-he became for a week the "ship's liar" and held his place under the
-swabber.</p>
-
-<p>"For seven days, thou old cozzener," said the mate, "thou shalt keep
-clean the beakhead and the chains, and lucky art thou to be at sea.
-Ashore they would have whipped thee through the streets at the cart's
-tail."</p>
-
-<p>Again a great wave of laughter swept the deck and by his face Martin
-showed his anger. But though he was "a fine fellow" and "overbold," he
-kept his tongue between his teeth; and whatever he suspected of Philip
-Marsham, he held his peace and went over the bow with ill grace and
-fell to scraping the chains, which was a task to humble the tallest
-pride. There was that in the laughter of the crew which had taught
-discretion to even bolder men than Martin Barwick.</p>
-
-<p>"I have seen his kind before," a voice said low in Phil's ear. "But
-though there be much of the calf in him, beware lest you rouse him to
-such a pitch that he will draw and strike."</p>
-
-<p>It was Will Canty, the youth who had already won the young boatswain's
-liking, spoke thus. He was a comerado more to Phil's taste than was
-the luckless Martin; but fate is not given to consulting tastes, and
-necessity forces upon a traveller such bedfellows as he meets by the
-way.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a><br />
-<small>STORM</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>The storm brewed long in gray banks of cloud that hung in the west and
-north. It drew around the Rose of Devon from north to east with a slow,
-immutable force, as yet perceived rather than felt, till she sailed in
-the midst of a circle of haze. At night the moon was ringed. The sun
-rose in a bank of flaming red and the small sea-birds that by their
-presence, mariners say, tell of coming gales, played over the wake.</p>
-
-<p>Captain Candle from the poop sniffed at the damp air: and studying
-the winds as they veered and rose in brisk flourishes and fell to the
-merest whisper of a breeze, he puckered his lips, which was his way
-when thoughts crowded upon him. Martin on the beakhead pursued his
-noisome task of cleaning it under the watchful eye of the swabber
-(who took unkind joy in exacting from him the utmost pains), and cast
-furtive glances at the gray swell that came shouldering up from the
-east.</p>
-
-<p>"Holla, boatswain," the captain cried.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>"Our foresail is old and hath lost its goodness. Look to thy stores and
-see if there be not another. Have it ready, then, to bend in haste if
-there be need."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>"And lay out thy cordage, boatswain, that if sheet or halyard or
-tackling shall part, we may be ready to bend another in its place."</p>
-
-<p>Descending thereupon into the forehold with his boatswain's mate to
-fetch and carry, Boatswain Marsham fell to work overhauling the bolts
-of sail-cloth and the hanks of cordage and the coils of rope, till he
-had found a new foresail and laid it under the hatch, and had placed
-great ropes and such cordage as headlines and marlines and sennets so
-that a man could lay hands on them in a time of haste and confusion.
-For the Rose of Devon was heavily pitching and the seas crashed on her
-three-inch planks with a noise like thunderclaps; and when she lifted
-on the swell, the water rumbled against her bilge and gurgled away past
-her run.</p>
-
-<p>Very faintly he heard a sailor's voice, "The pump is choked." There
-was shouting above for a time, then the cry arose, which brought
-reassurance to all, "Now she sucks," and again there was quiet.</p>
-
-<p>Climbing through the hatch and passing aft along the main deck, he
-heard for himself the <i>suck-suck</i> from the pump well, then the rattle
-of tiller and creak of pintle as the helmsmen eased her off and brought
-her on to meet a rising sea.</p>
-
-<p>"Holla, master!"</p>
-
-<p>"Holla, is all laid ready below?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea! Ropes and cordage and sail are laid ready upon the main deck and
-secured against the storm."</p>
-
-<p>"And seemeth she staunch to one in the hold?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, master."</p>
-
-<p>"Then, boatswain, call up the men to prayer and breakfast, for we shall
-doubtless have need of both ere the day is done. Boy, fetch my cellar
-of bottles, for I would drink a health to all, fore and aft, and I
-would have the men served out each a little sack."</p>
-
-<p>By midday the veering winds had settled in the east and the overcast
-sky had still further darkened. The ship, labouring heavily, held her
-course; but as the wind blew up a fresh gale, the after sails took the
-wind from the sails forward, which began to beat and thresh. Swarming
-aloft, the younkers handed the fore-topsail-steering-sail, the fore and
-main topsails, and the main-topsail-staysail. But as they manned the
-foreyard, the ship yawed in such a manner that the full force of the
-wind struck the old foresail and split it under their fingers.</p>
-
-<p>Philip Marsham on the weather yardarm, with the grey seas breaking in
-foam beneath him at one minute and with the forecastle itself seeming
-to rise up at him the next minute, so heavily did the old ship roll,
-was reaching for the sail at the moment it tore to ribands; and a
-billow of grey canvas striking him in the face knocked him off the
-yard; but as he fell, he locked his legs round the spar and got finger
-hold on the earing, and crawled back to the mast as the sailors stood
-by the ropes to strike the yard and get in the threshing tatters of the
-sail.</p>
-
-<p>The mate, going aft, was caught in the waist when the ship gave a
-mighty lurch, and went tumbling to lee-ward where the scupper-holes
-were spouting like so many fountains all a-row. The fall might well
-have ended his days, had he not bumped into the capstan where he clung
-fast with both arms, and twice lucky he was to stay his fall thus, for
-a sea came roaring over the waist and drowned the fountains in the
-scuppers and in a trice the decks were a-wash from forecastle to poop.
-But the old ship shook her head and righted and Captain Francis Candle,
-leaning against the wind, his cloak flapping in the gale and his hat
-hauled hard down over his eyes, descended from the poop and braced
-himself in its lee.</p>
-
-<p>"The wind blows frisking," the mate cried, scrambling up the ladder and
-joining the master.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, it is like to over-blow. She took a shrewd plunge but now. We
-shall further our voyage by striking every sail. Go thou, mate, and
-have them secure the spritsail-yard, then take thy station on the
-forecastle."</p>
-
-<p>For an hour or two the old Rose of Devon went plunging through the
-seas; and there was much loosing and lowering of sails. For a while,
-then, the wind scanted so that there was hope the storm had passed, and
-during the lull they bent and set the new foresail and must needs brace
-and veer and haul aft. But ere long the gale blew up amain, and in the
-late afternoon Captain Candle, sniffing the breeze, called upon all to
-stand by and once more to hand both foresail and mainsail.</p>
-
-<p>"Cast off the topsail sheets, clew garnets, leechlines and buntlines!"
-The order came thinly through the roar of the wind.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!" a shrill voice piped.</p>
-
-<p>"Stand by the sheet and brace&mdash;come lower the yard and furl the
-sail&mdash;see that your main halyards be clear and all the rest of your
-gear clear and cast off."</p>
-
-<p>"It is all clear."</p>
-
-<p>"Lower the main yard&mdash;haul down upon your down-haul." As the yard
-swayed down and the men belayed the halyards, one minute staggering to
-keep their feet, the next minute slipping and sliding across the decks,
-the captain's sharp voice, holding them at their work, cut through the
-gale, "Haul up the clew garnets, lifts, leechlines and buntlines!
-Come, furl the sail fast and secure the yard lest it traverse and gall!"</p>
-
-<p>"'Twas a fierce gust," an old sailor cried to Phil, who had reached
-for the rigging and saved himself from going down to the lee scuppers.
-"We best look the guns be all fast. I mind, in the Grace and Mary, my
-second Guinea voyage, a gun burst its breechings&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Belay the fore down-haul!" the mate thundered, and leaving his tale
-untold, the old man went crawling forward.</p>
-
-<p>The men heard faintly the orders to the helmsman, "Hard
-a-weather!&mdash;Right your helm!&mdash;Now port, port hard! More hands! He
-cannot put up the helm!"</p>
-
-<p>Then out of the turmoil and confusion a great voice cried, "A sail! A
-sail!"</p>
-
-<p>"Where?"</p>
-
-<p>"Fair by us."</p>
-
-<p>"How stands she?"</p>
-
-<p>"To the north'ard."</p>
-
-<p>She lay close hauled by the wind and as the Rose of Devon, scudding
-before the sea, bore down the wind and upon her, she hove out signs to
-speak; but though Captain Candle passed under her lee as near as he
-dared venture and learned by lusty shouting that she was an English
-ship from the East Indies, which begged the Rose of Devon for God's
-sake to spare them some provisions, since they were eighty persons on
-board who were ready to perish for food and water, the seas ran so
-high that neither the one vessel nor the other dared hoist out a boat;
-and parting, the men of the Rose of Devon lost sight of her in the
-gathering dusk.</p>
-
-<p>Still more and more the storm increased. Darkness came, but there was
-no rest at sea that night.</p>
-
-<p>Thanks to the storm, and the labour and anxiety it brought all hands,
-Martin, the latter part of that day, escaped the duties of ship's liar,
-and glad was he of the chance to slip unobserved about the deck with
-no reminder of his late humiliation. But by night he was blue with
-the cold, and drenching wet and so hungry that he gnawed at a bit of
-biscuit when he needed both hands to haul on a rope.</p>
-
-<p>Finding Phil Marsham at his shoulder and still resenting bitterly the
-jest to which he had fallen victim, he shot at him an ill-tempered
-glance and in sullen silence turned his back.</p>
-
-<p>"Belay!"</p>
-
-<p>A line of struggling men tripped and stumbled as they secured the rope
-and went swaying and staggering across the deck when the ship rolled;
-for the weight of her towering superstructure and her cannon would set
-her wallowing fearfully in the merest seaway. One caught up the rope's
-end in loose coils; another, having fallen, got clumsily on his feet
-and staunched his bleeding nose; the rest shivered as the icy wind
-struck through their wet shirts.</p>
-
-<p>Martin again turned his back on the boatswain and hugged himself, but
-to little profit, although his fat arms covered a goodly area. Phil
-laughed softly at Martin's show of spleen and was about to warm the
-man's temper further by a thrust well calculated to stir him to fury,
-when the ship rose with a queer lurch and descended into a veritable
-gulf.</p>
-
-<p>They saw above them a sea looming like a black cloud. It mounted slowly
-up, hung over them, curled down a dark tongue of water and, before
-the Rose of Devon had righted from her plunge into the trough, broke
-upon the ship and overwhelmed her. The waist was flooded from the head
-of the forecastle to the break of the poop. Water, licking across the
-quarter-deck, rose in a great wave that drenched the captain to his
-thighs and poured into the steerage room, momentarily blinding the men
-at the helm,&mdash;for in those old ships they stood with their faces on
-a level with the quarter-deck,&mdash;and, following whipstaff and tiller,
-spilled into the main deck and hold.</p>
-
-<p>Philip Marsham, as the water washed him off his feet, made shift to lay
-hands on the shrouds, and though he had no footing and was washed far
-out over the side, his grasp was strong and he held himself against the
-rush of water as the ship rose like a dog shaking its head and coming
-up through a wave. In very truth she seemed to shake her head and
-struggle up to the black night above. But as Phil saved himself he saw
-Martin cowering by a gun and striving to reach the breeching; and as
-the ship rose, the lad half felt, half saw, some great body washed past
-him and over the side.</p>
-
-<p>There was no one beside the gun: Martin was gone.</p>
-
-<p>Though a man were a knave and liar, Phil Marsham had no stomach to
-see him drown thus; and though he held old Martin in contempt and
-bedevilled him night and day, yet he had a curious liking for the
-fellow. Overhead there hung from the maintop a loose rope. He faintly
-saw it swinging against the leaden-black sky. By a nimble leap there
-was a fair chance a man might reach it and if it did not part, an
-active man might by a stroke of fortune regain the ship. All this Phil
-saw in the falling of a single grain of sand, then the rope swung
-within reach of his hand and he seized it. Spared the hazard of
-leaping for it, he let go the shrouds and swung with all his strength
-out into the night.</p>
-
-<p>Swinging high over the sea he saw for an instant, while he was in
-mid-air, the Rose of Devon surging away from under him. The single
-great lanthorn was burning on her poop, and dim lights in forecastle
-and cabin showed that those parts of the ship, at least, had come up
-through the sea unflooded. He thought he saw a cloaked figure like a
-shadow on the quarter-deck. Then he slid down into darkness till the
-rope burned his hands, then he struck the water and went under, gasping
-at the shock, for the sea was as cold as a mountain stream. He caught
-a last glimpse of the great ship, now looming high above him, then
-clutching fast the rope with one hand and wildly kicking out, he felt
-with his knees what might be a man's body.</p>
-
-<p>With his free hand he reached for the body. He snatched at an arm and
-missed it, then felt hair brushing his fingers and tangled them in it
-and gripped it. He went down and down; then the drag of the water, for
-the ship was scudding fast, raised him to the surface. The ship rolled
-toward him and he again went under, overshadowed by the lofty poop
-which leaned out so far that notwithstanding the tumble home he thought
-the poop would come down and crush him. The ship then rolled away from
-him, and the rope brought up on his arm so hard that he feared the
-bones would pull from their sockets; but if he died in doing it he was
-bound he would hold the rope and keep his man.</p>
-
-<p>The ship rolled till he bumped against her side and was lifted half out
-of water.</p>
-
-<p>"Help!" he cried. "Help or we die!"</p>
-
-<p>He heard voices above and felt the rope move as if some one had seized
-it, then the looming bulk of the ship rolled back and drove him again
-down into the sea.</p>
-
-<p>He had no wind left for calling when he came up as once more the ship
-rolled, but the man he held had come to life and was clinging like a
-leech to the rope, which vastly lightened the strain, and some one
-above was hauling on it. For a moment the two swung in air with the sea
-beneath them, then the ship rolled farther and their weight rested on
-planks, and hands from within the ship reached down and lifted them on
-board.</p>
-
-<p>The man&mdash;and it was indeed Martin&mdash;coughed like one who is deathly
-sick, as well he might be, and went rolling down the deck with a boy to
-help him. But Phil, having kept his head and having swallowed no great
-quantity of salt water, was able after breathing deeply a few times to
-stand alone beside Will Canty whose hands had drawn him to safety, and
-to perceive that waist, boat, capstan, windlass and sheet anchor were
-washed away.</p>
-
-<p>He then heard a pounding and shouting aft. "What in the fiend's name
-hath befallen us?" he demanded.</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis even worse than doth appear," Will cried. "The sea hath a free
-passage into the hold between the timber heads. They are pumping with
-both pumps. The captain hath ordered the mizzenmast cut away, the
-better to keep us before the wind. Hear you not the sound of axes?
-And&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Out of the darkness burst the mate. "Come, my hearts! Below there! Cram
-blankets and hammocks into the leak, yea, the shirts from off your
-backs! And then to the pumps to take your turn. And pray Almighty God
-to give us sight of another day."</p>
-
-<p>There was running on the deck and shadows passed forward and aft.</p>
-
-<p>From the quarter-deck a clear voice, so sharp that it pierced the noise
-of the storm, was calling, "Port the helm! Ease her, ease her! Now up!
-Hard up! Ease her, ease her!"</p>
-
-<p>As the boatswain dropped through the hatch, he saw very dimly the
-captain crouching under the poop, his cloak drawn close about him.</p>
-
-<p>There was wild confusion below, for as the ship rolled to starboard the
-sea burst in through the great gap along the timber heads and pushed
-through the gap and into the ship the blankets and rugs that were
-stuffed in place. Though the men leaped after them and came scrambling
-back to force them again into place between the timbers, and though
-they tore down hammocks and jammed them in with the blankets to fill
-the great opening, yet as the ship again rolled and the sea once more
-came surging against the barrier, they again fled before it, and again
-the sea cleared the gap and came flooding in upon the deck. It was a
-sight to fill a brave man with despair.</p>
-
-<p>The more hands made faster work, and though the labour seemed spent in
-vain they stuffed the gap anew. But now when the ship again rolled to
-starboard an old seaman raised his hand and roared, "Every man to his
-place and hold against the sea! Stay! Hold fast your ground!&mdash;Come,
-bullies, hold hard!&mdash;Good fellows! See, we have won!"</p>
-
-<p>They had perceived his meaning and braced themselves and with their
-hands they had held the stuffing in the gap until the pressure ceased,
-which was more of a feat than a man might think, since despite their
-every effort the sea had found passage in great strong streams, yet
-they held to the last; and when the ship rolled back, Boatswain Marsham
-cried out:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"Now, Master Carpenter, quick! Bring great nails and hammer and a plank
-or two. Yare, yare!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea," the carpenter cried, and came running down the deck.</p>
-
-<p>The men held the planking and the carpenter drove home the nails
-and thus they made the plank fast along the timbers behind the gap,
-where it would serve to brace the stuffing. Between the plank and the
-stuffing they forced a great mass of other wadding, and though the ship
-rolled ever so deeply the plank held against the sea. They left it so;
-but all that night, which seemed as long as any night they had ever
-seen, no man slept in the Rose of Devon, for they still feared lest the
-sea should batter away the plank and work their undoing.</p>
-
-<p>All night long they kept the pumps going and all night long they feared
-their labour would be lost. But at four in the morning one of the pumps
-sucked, which gave them vast comfort, and at daybreak they gave thanks
-to God, who had kept them safe until dawn.</p>
-
-<p>The storm had passed and the sky was clear, and Phil and Martin met at
-sunrise.</p>
-
-<p>"Since thou hast haled me out of the sea by the hair of my head," quoth
-Martin, after the manner of one who swallows a grievance he can ill
-stomach, "I must e'en give thee good morrow."</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a><br />
-<small>THE MASTER'S GUEST</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>"A sail! A sail!"</p>
-
-<p>The seas had somewhat abated and the Rose of Devon was standing on her
-course under reefed mainsail when the cry sounded.</p>
-
-<p>The vessel they sighted lay low in the water; and since she had one
-tall mast forward and what appeared to be a lesser mast aft they
-thought her a ketch. But while they debated the matter the faint sound
-of guns fired in distress came over the sea; and loosing the reef of
-their mainsail and standing directly toward the stranger, the men in
-the Rose of Devon soon made her out to be, instead, a ship which had
-lost her mainmast and mizzenmast and was wallowing like a log. While
-the Rose of Devon was still far off, her men saw that some of the
-strange crew were aloft in the rigging and that others were huddled on
-the quarter-deck; and when, in the late afternoon, she came up under
-the stranger's stern, the unknown master and his men got down on their
-knees on the deck and stretched their arms above their bare heads.</p>
-
-<p>"Save us," they cried in a doleful voice, "for the Lord Jesus' sake!
-For our ship hath six-foot water in the hold and we can no longer keep
-her afloat."</p>
-
-<p>In all the Rose of Devon there was not a heart but relented at their
-lamentable cry, not a man but would do his utmost to lend them aid.</p>
-
-<p>"Hoist out thy boat and we will stand by to succour thee," Captain
-Candle called. "We can do no more, for we ha' lost our own boat in the
-storm."</p>
-
-<p>It appeared they had but one boat, which was small, so they must needs
-divide the crew to leave their vessel, part at one time and part at
-another; and the seas still ran so high, though wind and wave had
-moderated, that it seemed impossible they could make the passage. With
-men at both her pumps the Rose of Devon lay by the wind, wallowing and
-plunging, and her own plight seemed a hard one. But the poor stranger,
-though ever and again she rose on the seas so that the water drained
-from her scupper-holes, lay for the most part with her waist a-wash
-and a greater sea than its fellows would rise high on the stumps of
-mainmast and mizzenmast. Her ropes dragged over the side and her
-sails were a snarl of canvas torn to shreds, and a very sad sight she
-presented.</p>
-
-<p>Three times they tried to hoist out their boat and failed; but the
-fourth time they got clear, and with four men rowing and one steering
-and seven with hats and caps heaving out the water, they came in the
-twilight slowly down the wind past the Rose of Devon and up into her
-lee.</p>
-
-<p>The men at the waist of the ship saw more clearly, now, the features
-of those in the boat, and the one in the stern who handled the great
-steering oar had in the eyes of Philip Marsham an oddly familiar look.
-Phil gazed at the man, then he turned to Martin and knew he was not
-mistaken, for Martin's mouth was agape and he was on the very point of
-crying out.</p>
-
-<p>"Holla!" Martin yelled.</p>
-
-<p>The man in the stern of the boat looked up and let his eyes range
-along the waist of the ship. Not one of all those in sight on board
-the Rose of Devon escaped his scrutiny, which was quick and sure;
-but he looked Martin coldly in the face without so much as a nod of
-recognition; and though his brief glance met Phil's gaze squarely and
-seemed for the moment to linger and search the lad's thoughts, it then
-passed to the one at Phil's side.</p>
-
-<p>It was the thin man who had been Martin's companion on the road&mdash;it was
-Tom Jordan&mdash;it was the Old One.</p>
-
-<p>Martin's face flamed, but he held his tongue.</p>
-
-<p>A line thrown to the boat went out through the air in coils that
-straightened and sagged down between the foremost thwarts. A sailor
-in the boat, seizing the line, hauled upon it with might and main.
-The Old One hotly cursed him, and bellowed, "Fend off, fend off, thou
-slubbering clown! Thy greed to get into the ship will be the means of
-drowning us all."</p>
-
-<p>Some thrust out oars to fend away from the side of the ship and some
-held back; but two or three, hungering for safety, gave him no heed and
-hauled on the rope and struggled to escape out of their little boat,
-which was already half full of water. The Old One then rose with a look
-of the Fiend in his eyes and casting the steering oar at the foremost
-of them, knocked the man over into the sea, where he sank, leaving a
-blotch of red on the surface, which was a terrible sight and brought
-the others to observe the Old One's commands.</p>
-
-<p>Some cried "Save him!" but the Old One roared, "Let the mutinous dog
-go!"</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps he was right, for there are times when it takes death to
-maintain the discipline that will save many lives. At all events it
-was then too late to save either the man or the boat, for although they
-strove thereafter to do as the Old One bade them, the boat had already
-thumped against the side of the ship and it was each man for himself
-and the Devil take the last. The men above threw other ropes and bent
-over to give a hand to the poor fellows below, and all but the man who
-had sunk came scrambling safe on board.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One leaned out and looked down at the boat, which lay full of
-water, with a great hole in her side.</p>
-
-<p>"I would have given my life sooner than let this happen," he said.
-"There are seven men left on board our ship, who trusted me to save
-them. Indeed, I had not come away but these feared lest without the
-master you should refuse to take them. What say ye, my baw-cocks, shall
-we venture back for our shipmates?"</p>
-
-<p>Looking down at the boat and at the gaping holes the sea had stove by
-throwing her against the Rose of Devon, the men made no reply.</p>
-
-<p>"Not one will venture back? Is there no one of ye?"</p>
-
-<p>"'Twere madness," one began. "We should&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"See! She hath gone adrift!"</p>
-
-<p>And in truth, her gunwales under water, the boat was already drifting
-astern. At the end of the painter, which a Rose of Devon's man still
-held, there dangled a piece of broken board.</p>
-
-<p>"Let us bring thy ship nigh under the lee of mine," the Old One cried
-to Captain Candle. "It may be that by passing a line we can yet save
-them."</p>
-
-<p>"It grieves me sorely to refuse them aid, but to approach nearer, with
-the darkness now drawing upon us, were an act of folly that might well
-cost the lives of us all. Mine own ship is leaking perilously and in
-this sea, were the two to meet, both would most certainly go down."</p>
-
-<p>The Old One looked about and nodded. "True," said he. "There is no
-recovering the boat and darkness is upon us. Let us go as near to
-the ship as we may and bid them have courage till morning, when, God
-willing, we shall try to get aboard and save them."</p>
-
-<p>"That we will. And I myself will con the ship."</p>
-
-<p>Leaning over the rail, Tom Jordan, the Old One, called out, "Holla, my
-hearts! The boat hath gone adrift with her sides stove; but do you make
-a raft and keep abroad a light until morning, when God helping us, we
-will endeavor to get you aboard."</p>
-
-<p>Perceiving for the first time that the boat was gone and there was
-no recovering her, those left on board the wreck gave a cry so sad
-that it pierced the hearts of all in the Rose of Devon, whose men saw
-them through the dusk doing what they could to save themselves; and
-presently their light appeared.</p>
-
-<p>Working the Rose of Devon to windward of the wreck, Captain Candle lay
-by, but all his endeavours could not avail to help them, for about ten
-o'clock at night, three hours after the Old One and his ten men had got
-on board the Rose of Devon, their ship sank and their light went out
-and seven men lost their lives.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One, standing beside Captain Candle, had watched the light to
-the last. "It is a bitter grief to bear," he said, "for they were seven
-brave men. A master could desire no better mariners. 'Tis the end of
-the Blue Friggat from Virginia, bound for Portsmouth, wanting seven
-weeks."</p>
-
-<p>"A man can go many years to sea without meeting such a storm."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea! Three days ago when the wind was increasing all night we kept
-only our two courses abroad. At daybreak we handed our main course,
-but before we had secured it the storm burst upon us so violently that
-I ordered the foreyard lowered away; but not with all their strength
-could the men get it down, and of them all not one had a knife to cut
-away the sail, for they wore only their drawers without pockets; so the
-gale drove us head into the sea and stopped our way and a mighty sea
-pooped us and filled us and we lay with only our masts and forecastle
-out of the water. I myself, being fastened to the mizzenmast with a
-rope, had only my head out of water. Yea, we expected to go straight
-down to the bottom, but God of his infinite goodness was pleased to
-draw us from the deep and another sea lifted up our ship. We got down
-our foresail and stowed it and bored holes between the decks to let
-the water into the hold and by dint of much pumping we kept her afloat
-until now. In all we have lost eight lives this day and a sad day it
-is."</p>
-
-<p>"From Virginia, wanting seven weeks," Captain Candle mused.</p>
-
-<p>Captain Jordan stole a swift glance at him but saw no suspicion in his
-face.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, from Virginia."</p>
-
-<p>"You shall share mine own cabin but I fear you have come only from one
-wreck to another."</p>
-
-<p>The two captains sat late that night at the table in the great cabin,
-one on each side, and ate and drank. There was fine linen on the table,
-and bread of wheat flour with butter less than two weeks from the
-dairy, and a fine old cheese, and a mutton stew, and canary and sack
-and aqua vit&aelig;. At midnight they were still lingering over the suckets
-and almonds and comfits that the boy had set before them; and the boy,
-nodding in uncontrollable drowsiness as he stood behind his master's
-chair, strove to keep awake.</p>
-
-<p>The murmuring voices of the men at the helm came faintly through the
-bulkhead, and up from below the deck came the creak of whipstaff and
-tiller. The moon, shining through the cabin window, added its wan light
-to the yellow radiance from the swinging lanthorns, and stars were to
-be seen. So completely had wind and weather changed in a night and a
-day that, save for the long rolling swell, the great gap where waist
-and boat and capstan had gone, the hole stuffed with blankets and
-rugs and hammocks, the stump of a mizzenmast, and the rescued men on
-board&mdash;save for these, a man might have forgotten storms and wrecks.</p>
-
-<p>"You are well found," said Captain Thomas Jordan, tilting his glass
-and watching the wine roll toward the brim; "yea, and we are in good
-fortune." His thin face, as he lifted his brows and slightly smiled at
-his host, settled into the furrowed wrinkles that had won him the name
-of the Old One.</p>
-
-<p>"We can give such entertainment as is set before you," his host drily
-replied. Francis Candle was too shrewd a man to miss his guest's
-searching appraisal of the cabin and its furnishings. In his heart he
-already distrusted the fellow.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a><br />
-<small>BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND MORNING</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>Through the main deck to the gun-room and up into the forecastle there
-drifted smoke from the cookroom in the hold, which was the way of those
-old ships. At times it set choking the men at the pumps; it eddied
-about the water cask before the mainmast and about the riding butts by
-the heel of the bowsprit, and went curling out of the hawse pipes. It
-crept insidiously into the forecastle, and the men cursed fluently when
-their eyes began to smart and their noses to sting.</p>
-
-<p>There were seven men in the forecastle and Martin Barwick was one of
-the seven, although his watch was on deck and he had no right to be
-there. Philip Marsham, whose watch was below, had stayed because he
-suspected there was some strange thing in the wind and was determined
-to learn if possible what it was. Two of the others were younkers of
-the Rose of Devon, who suspected nothing, and the remaining three were
-of the rescued men.</p>
-
-<p>There was a step above and a round head appeared in the hatch. The dim
-smoky light gave a strange appearance to the familiar features.</p>
-
-<p>"Ho, cook!" Martin cried, and thumped on the table. "Come thou down
-and bring us what tidings the boy hath brought thee in the cookroom.
-Yea, though the cook labour in the very bowels of the ship, is it not a
-proverb that he alone knows all that goes on?"</p>
-
-<p>Slipping through the hatch, the cook drew a great breath and sat him
-down by the table. "She was the Blue Friggat, I hear, and seven weeks
-from Virginia&mdash;God rest the souls of them who went down in her!"</p>
-
-<p>"From Virginia!" quoth Martin. "Either th' art gulled, in truth, or th'
-art the very prince of liars. From Virginia! Ho ho!" And Martin laughed
-loud and long.</p>
-
-<p>Now it was for such a moment that Philip Marsham was waiting, nor had
-he doubted the moment would come. For although Martin had gone apart
-with the men who had come from the foundered ship, the fellow's head,
-which was larger than most heads, could never keep three ideas in
-flourish at the same time. To learn what game was in the wind there was
-need only to keep close at Martin's heels until his blunders should
-disclose his secrets.</p>
-
-<p>"The Devil take thee, thou alehouse dog!" the cook cried in a thick,
-wheezy voice. "Did not the boy bring me word straight when he came down
-for a can of boiling water with which this Captain Jordan would prepare
-a wondrous drink for Captain Candle?"</p>
-
-<p>"And did not I part with this Captain Jordan not&mdash;Wow-ouch!" With a
-yell Martin tipped back in his chair and went over. Crawling on his
-feet, he put on a long face and rubbed his head and hurled a flood of
-oaths at the sailor beside him, a small man and round like an apple,
-who went among his fellows&mdash;for he was one of those the Rose of Devon
-had rescued&mdash;by the name of Harry Malcolm.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay," the little round man very quietly replied, "I fear you not, for
-all your bluster. Put your hand on your tongue, fellow, and see if
-you cannot hold it. I had not intended to tip you over. It was done
-casually."</p>
-
-<p>"And why, perdy, did'st thou jam thy foot on mine till the bones
-crunched? I'll have thy heart's blood."</p>
-
-<p>"Nay," the man replied, so quietly, so calmly that he might have been
-a clerk sitting on his stool, "you have a way of talking overmuch,
-fellow, and I have a misliking of speech that babbles like a brook. It
-can make trouble."</p>
-
-<p>Martin stopped as if he had lost his voice, but continued to glare at
-the stranger, who still regarded him with no concern.</p>
-
-<p>"It is thy weakness, fellow," he said, "and&mdash;" he looked very hard at
-Martin&mdash;"it may yet be the occasion of thine untimely end."</p>
-
-<p>For a moment Martin stood still, then, swallowing once or twice, he
-went out of the dimly lighted forecastle into the darkness of the deck.</p>
-
-<p>"He appears," the little man said, addressing the others, "to be an
-excitable fellow. Alas, what trouble a brisk tongue can bring upon a
-man!"</p>
-
-<p>The little man, Harry Malcolm, looked from one to another and longest
-at Phil.</p>
-
-<p>Now Phil could not say there had been a hidden meaning in the hard look
-the little man had given Martin or in the long look the little man had
-given Phil himself. But he knew that whether this was so or not, there
-was no more to be got that night from Martin, and he in turn, further
-bepuzzled by the little man's words and after all not much enlightened
-by Martin's blunder, left the forecastle to seek the main deck.</p>
-
-<p>Passing the great cannon lashed in their places, and leaving behind him
-the high forecastle, he came into the shadow of the towering poop on
-which the lantern glowed yellow in the blue moonlight, and continued
-aft to the hatch ladder. Already it was long past midnight.</p>
-
-<p>He imagined he heard voices in the great cabin, and although he well
-enough knew that it was probably only imagination,&mdash;for the cabin door
-was closed fast,&mdash;the presence of the Old One on board the Rose of
-Devon was enough to make a man imagine things, who had sat in Mother
-Taylor's cottage and listened to talk of the gentlemen who sailed from
-Bideford. He paused at the head of the ladder and listened, but heard
-nothing more.</p>
-
-<p>An hour passed. There were fewer sounds to break the silence. There is
-no time like the very early morning for subtle and mysterious deeds.</p>
-
-<p>Boatswain Marsham was asleep below and Captain Candle was asleep aft,
-when Captain Jordan arose and stretched himself, and in a voice that
-would have been audible to Captain Candle if he had been awake but that
-was so low it did not disturb his sleep, vowed he must breathe fresh
-air ere he could bury his head in a blanket for the night.</p>
-
-<p>Emerging from the great cabin, Captain Jordan climbed first to the
-poop, whence he looked down on the brave old ship and the wide space of
-sky and darkly heaving sea within the circle of the horizon. To look
-thus at the sea is enough to make a philosopher of a thinking man, and
-this Captain Thomas Jordan was by no means devoid of thought.</p>
-
-<p>But whereas many a one who stands under the bright stars in the small
-morning hours feels himself a brother with the most trifling creatures
-that live and is filled with humility to consider in relation to the
-immeasurable powers of the universe his weakness during even his brief
-space of life&mdash;whereas such a one perceives himself to be, like the
-prophets of ancient times, in a Divine Presence, the Old One, his
-face strangely youthful in its repose, threw back his head and softly
-laughed, as if there high on the poop he were a god of the heathen, who
-could blot out with his thumb the ship and all the souls that sailed
-in her. His face had again a haunting likeness to the devils in the
-old wood-cuts; and indeed there is something of the devil in the very
-egotism of a man who can thus assert his vain notions at such an hour.</p>
-
-<p>Presently descending from the poop and with a nod passing on the
-quarter-deck the officer of the watch, he paced for a time the
-maintop-deck. He pretended to absorb himself in the sea and the damage
-the storm had done to the waist; but he missed nothing that happened
-and he observed the whereabouts of every man in the watch.</p>
-
-<p>Edging slowly forward, he stood at last beside a big man who was
-leaning in the shadow of the forecastle.</p>
-
-<p>"We meet sooner than you thought," he said in a low voice.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, for we were long on the road and entangled ourselves wonderfully
-among those byways and high-ways which cross the country in a manner
-perplexing beyond belief."</p>
-
-<p>"Saw you your brother?"</p>
-
-<p>"In all truth I saw him&mdash;and the Devil take him!"</p>
-
-<p>The Old One laughed softly.</p>
-
-<p>"It is plain thy brother hath little love for a shipwrecked mariner,"
-quoth he, "yet there is a most memorable antiquity about the use of
-ships, and even greater gluttons than thy brother have supped light
-that worthy seamen might not go hungry to bed. We will speak of him
-another time. What think you of this pretty pup we have met by the
-way?&mdash;Ah, thine eye darkens! Methinks thou hast more than once felt the
-rough side of his tongue."</p>
-
-<p>"He bears himself somewhat struttingly&mdash;" Martin hesitated, but added
-perforce, since he had received a friendly turn he could not soon
-forget, "yet he hath his good points."</p>
-
-<p>"He was one too many for thee! Nay, confess it!"</p>
-
-<p>"Th' art a filthy rascal!" Martin's face burned with anger.</p>
-
-<p>"I knew he would be too cunning for thy wool-gathering wits. Truly I
-believe he is a lad after my own heart. I have marked him well."</p>
-
-<p>"But hast thou plumbed his inclination with thy sounding lead?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why, no. At worst, he can disappear. It has happened to taller men
-than he, and in a land where there are men at arms to come asking
-questions."</p>
-
-<p>"Hgh!"</p>
-
-<p>"This for thy whining, though: we shall play upon him lightly. Some are
-not worth troubling over, but this lad is a cunning rogue and hath book
-learning."</p>
-
-<p>"Came you in search of this ship?"</p>
-
-<p>"It was chance alone that brought us across her course. Chance alone,
-Martin, that brought your old captain back to you."</p>
-
-<p>Watching Martin, as he spoke, the Old One again laughed softly.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, Martin, it touches the heart of your old captain to see with what
-pleasure you receive him."</p>
-
-<p>"Th' art a cunning devil," Martin muttered, and babbled oaths and
-curses.</p>
-
-<p>"We must sleep, Martin&mdash;sleep and eat, for we are spent with much
-labour and many hardships, and it is well for them to sail our ship for
-us a while longer. But the hour will come, and do you then stand by."</p>
-
-<p>The Old One went aft. The ship rolled drowsily and the watch nodded.
-Surveying her aloft and alow, as a man does who is used to command, and
-not as a guest on board might do, the Old One left the deck.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a><br />
-<small>HEAD WINDS AND A ROUGH SEA</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>"Lacking the mizzen she labours by the wind, which hath veered sadly
-during the night," quoth Captain Jordan in a sleepy voice, as with his
-host he came upon deck betimes.</p>
-
-<p>"I like it little," the master replied.</p>
-
-<p>"It would be well to lay a new course and sail on a new voyage. There
-is small gain to be got from these fisheries. A southern voyage, now,
-promises returns worth the labour."</p>
-
-<p>To this Captain Candle made no reply. He studied the sore damage done
-to the ship, upon which already the carpenter was at work.</p>
-
-<p>"With a breadth of canvas and hoops to batten the edges fast, and
-over all a coating of tar, a man might make her as tight and dry as
-you please," said the Old One. He smiled when he spoke and his manner
-galled his host.</p>
-
-<p>"It was in my own mind," Captain Candle replied, with an angry lift
-of his head. There are few things more grievously harassing than the
-importunity and easy assurance of a guest of whom there is no riddance.
-It puts a man where he is peculiarly helpless to defend himself, and
-already Captain Candle's patience had ebbed far. "Bid the boatswain
-overhaul his canvas, mate, and the carpenter prepare such material as
-be needful. Aye, and bid the 'liar' stand ready to go over the side.
-'Twill cool his hot pride, of which it seems he hath full measure."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea!"</p>
-
-<p>As the master paced the deck, back and forth and back and forth,
-the Old One walked at his side&mdash;for he was a shrewd schemer and had
-calculated his part well&mdash;until the master's gorge rose. "I must return
-to the cabin," he said at last, "and overhaul my journal."</p>
-
-<p>"I will bear you company."</p>
-
-<p>"No, no!"</p>
-
-<p>The Old One smiled as if in deprecation; but as the master turned away,
-the smile broadened to a grin.</p>
-
-<p>Boatswain Marsham and the one-eyed carpenter who wore a beard like
-a goat's were on their way to the forehold. The cook and his mate
-were far down in the cookroom. Ten men in the watch below were sound
-asleep&mdash;but Martin Barwick, the eleventh man in the watch, was on deck,
-<i>and of the eleven rescued men not one was below</i>. With Captain Candle
-safe in his cabin and busied over his journal, there were left from the
-company of the Rose of Devon eight men and the mate, and one man of the
-eight was at the helm. These the Old One counted as he took a turn on
-the quarter-deck.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One and his men were refreshed by a night of sleep and restored
-by good food. To all appearances, without care or thought to trouble
-them, they ruffled about the deck. One was standing just behind the
-mate; two were straying toward the steerage.</p>
-
-<p>"Thy boatswain is a brave lad," the Old One said to the mate, and
-stepping in front of him, he spread his legs and folded his arms.</p>
-
-<p>The mate nodded. He had less liking for their guest, if it were
-possible, than the captain.</p>
-
-<p>"A brave lad," the Old One repeated. "I can use him."</p>
-
-<p>"You?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, I."</p>
-
-<p>The mate drew back a step, as a man does when another puts his face too
-near. He was on the point of speaking; but before his lips had phrased
-a word the Old One raised his hand and the man behind the mate drove
-six inches of blue steel into the mate's back, between his ribs and
-through his heart.</p>
-
-<p>He died in the Old One's arms, for the Old One caught him before he
-fell, and held him thus.</p>
-
-<p>"Well done," the Old One said to his man.</p>
-
-<p>"Not so well as one could wish," the man replied, wiping his knife on
-the mate's coat. "He perished quietly enough, but the knife bit into a
-rib and the feeling of a sharp knife dragging upon bone sets my teeth
-on edge."</p>
-
-<p>The Old One laughed. "Thy stomach is exceeding queasy," he said. "Come,
-let us heave him over the side."</p>
-
-<p>All this, remember, had happened quickly and very quietly. There were
-the three men standing by the quarter-deck ladder&mdash;the Old One and his
-man and the mate&mdash;and by all appearances the Old One merely put out
-his hands in a friendly manner to the other, for the knife thrust was
-hidden by a cloak. But now the mate's head fell forward in a queer,
-lackadaisical way and four of the Old One's men, perceiving what they
-looked for, slipped past him through the door to the steerage room,
-where they clapped down the hatch to the main deck. One stood on the
-hatch; two stood by the door of the great cabin; and the fourth,
-stepping up to the man at the helm, flashed a knife from his sleeve
-and cut the fellow down.</p>
-
-<p>It was a deft blow, but not so sure as the thrust that had killed the
-mate. The helmsman dropped the whipstaff and, falling, gave forth a
-yell and struck at his assailant, who again let drive at him with the
-knife and finished the work, so that the fellow lay with bloody froth
-at his lips and with fingers that twitched a little and then were still.</p>
-
-<p>The man who had killed him took the whipstaff and called softly,
-"Holla, master! We hold the helm!" then from his place he heard a
-sailor cry out, "The mate is falling! Lend him aid!"</p>
-
-<p>Then the Old One's voice, rising to a yell, called, "Stand back! Stand
-off! Now, my hearts!"</p>
-
-<p>There came a quick tempest of voices, a shrill cry, the pounding of
-many feet, then a splash, then a cry wilder and more shrill than any
-before, "Nay, I yield&mdash;quarter! Quarter, I say! Mercy! God's mercy, I
-beg of you! Help&mdash;O God!"</p>
-
-<p>There was at the same time a rumble of hoarse voices and a sound of
-great struggling, then a shriek and a second splash.</p>
-
-<p>The man at the helm kicked the dead helmsman to one side and listened.
-In the great cabin, behind the bulkhead at his back, he heard a sudden
-stir. As between the mainmast and the forecastle the yells rose louder,
-the great cabin door burst open and out rushed Captain Francis Candle
-in a rich waist with broad cuffs at his wrists, his hair new oiled
-with jessamine butter, and gallant bows at his knees, for he was a
-fine gentleman who had first gone to sea as a lieutenant in the King's
-service. As he rushed out the door the man lying in wait on the left
-struck a fierce blow to stab him, but the knife point broke on a steel
-plate which it seemed Captain Candle wore concealed to foil just such
-dastardly work.</p>
-
-<p>Thereupon, turning like a flash, Captain Candle spitted the scoundrel
-with his sword. But the man lying in wait on the right of the door saw
-his fellow's blow fail and perceived the reason, and leaping on the
-captain from behind, he seized his oiled hair with one hand and hauled
-back his head, and reaching forward with the other hand, drove a knife
-into the captain's bare throat.</p>
-
-<p>Dark blood from a severed vein streamed out over Captain Candle's
-collar and his gay waist. He coughed and his eyes grew dull. He let go
-his sword, which remained stuck through the body of the man who had
-first struck at him, clapped his hand to his neck, and went down in a
-heap.</p>
-
-<p>The yells on deck had ceased and the man who had killed Francis Candle,
-after glancing into the great cabin where the captain's cloak lay
-spread over the chair from which he rose to step out of his door and
-die,&mdash;where the captain's pen lay across the pages of the open journal
-and a bottle of the captain's wine, which he had that morning shared
-with his guest, Captain Thomas Jordan, stood beside the unstoppered
-bottle of ink,&mdash;walked forth upon the deck and nodded to the Old One,
-who stood with his hand on the after swivel gun.</p>
-
-<p>There were a few splotches of blood on the deck and three men of the
-Rose of Devon's crew lay huddled in a heap; there were left standing
-three other men of the Rose of Devon, and sick enough they looked;
-Martin Barwick was stationed by the ladder to the forecastle, where
-he stood like a pigeon cock with his head haughtily in the air and his
-chest thrust out; and the little round apple of a man, Harry Malcolm,
-who had broken in upon Martin the night before, bearing now a new
-and bloody gash across his forehead, was prowling among the guns and
-tapping the breech rings with a knowing air.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One from the quarter-deck looked down at the new comer.</p>
-
-<p>"Rab took the steel," the fellow said.</p>
-
-<p>"Rab!" the Old One cried. "Not Rab, you say?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, he struck first but the master wore an iron shirt which turned
-the point and he was then at him with his sword."</p>
-
-<p>"We have lost nine good men by this devil-begotten storm, but of them
-all Rab is the one I am most loath to see go to the sharks." The Old
-One paced the deck a while and the others talked in undertones. "Yea,
-Martin," he called at last, "nine good men. But we have got us a ship
-and I have great hopes of our boatswain, who may yet make us two of
-Rab. At all events, my bullies, we must lay us a new course, for I have
-no liking of these northern fisheries. Hark! They are pounding on the
-hatch."</p>
-
-<p>The sound of knocking and a muffled calling came from the main hatch,
-whereat the men on deck looked at one another and some of them smiled.</p>
-
-<p>"It were well&mdash;" the little round man began. He glanced at the huddled
-bodies and shrugged.</p>
-
-<p>"True, true!" the Old One replied, for he needed no words to complete
-the meaning. "You men of the Rose of Devon, heave them into the sea."</p>
-
-<p>The three looked at one another and hesitated, and the youngest of the
-three turned away his face and put his hand on his belly, and sick
-enough he looked, at which a great laugh went up.</p>
-
-<p>"Go, Harry," the Old One cried to the little round man, "and tell them
-at the hatch to be still, for that we shall presently have them on
-deck. We must learn our brave recruits a lesson."</p>
-
-<p>Again a roar of laughter rose, and as the little man went in to
-the hatch, the others drew about the three who cowered against the
-forecastle ladder, as well they might.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, silly dogs," said the Old One, "in faith, you must earn your
-foolish lives. Lay hands on those carcasses and heave them to the
-fishes."</p>
-
-<p>They looked into the faces of the men about them, but got small comfort
-as they edged toward their unwelcome task.</p>
-
-<p>"It is hard to use thus a shipmate of three voyages," the oldest of
-them muttered.</p>
-
-<p>"True," replied the Old One, "but so shall you buy your way into a
-goodlier company of shipmates, who traffic in richer cargoes than
-pickled codfish and New England herrings."</p>
-
-<p>The three picked up the bodies, one at a time, each with its arms and
-legs dragging, and carried them to the waist and pushed them over. But
-the youngest of the three was trembling like a dead weed in November
-when they had finished, and the Old One chuckled to see the fellow's
-white face.</p>
-
-<p>"Have courage, bawcock," the Old One cried; "there shall soon be
-a round of aqua vit&aelig; to warm thy shaking limbs and send the blood
-coursing through thy veins. Now, Mate Harry, lift off the hatch and
-summon our good boatswain and carpenter."</p>
-
-<p>"As you please, as you please," came the quick, gentle voice of the
-little round man. "But there are two of 'em left still&mdash;Rab and the
-captain&mdash;and there's a deal of blood hereabouts."</p>
-
-<p>They heard the hatch creak as the little man pried it off. They heard
-his quick sentences pattering out one after another: "Hasten out on
-deck&mdash;nay, linger not. The master would have speech of thee. Nay,
-linger not. Ask me no questions! There's no time for lingering."</p>
-
-<p>Then out burst Phil Marsham with the older carpenter puffing at his
-heels.</p>
-
-<p>"What's afoot?" cried Phil. "Where's the master?&mdash;what&mdash;where&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>So speedily had they hurried from the hatch (and so cleverly had the
-little round man interposed himself between the hatch and the two
-bodies at the cabin door) that in the dim light of the steerage room
-the two had perceived nothing amiss. But now, looking about for the
-source of the fierce cries and yells they had heard, they saw red
-stains on the deck, and men with scared white faces.</p>
-
-<p>All looked toward the Old One as if awaiting his reply; and when
-Phil Marsham, too, looked toward him, he met such another quizzing,
-searching, understanding gaze as he had long ago met when he had taken
-the words from Martin's lips on the little hill beside the road.</p>
-
-<p>"Why, I am master now, good boatswain."</p>
-
-<p>"But Captain Candle&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"His flame is out."</p>
-
-<p>The lad glanced about him at the circle of hard old sea dogs&mdash;for they
-were all of them that, were their years few or many&mdash;and drew away till
-he stood with the waist at his back. Laying hands on his dirk, he said
-in a voice that slightly trembled, "And now?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why," quoth the Old One, "you have sat in Mother Taylor's kitchen and
-heard talk of the gentlemen. You know too many secrets. Unless you are
-one of us&mdash;" He finished with a shrug.</p>
-
-<p>"You ask me, then, to join you?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea."</p>
-
-<p>"I refuse." He looked the Old One in the eye.</p>
-
-<p>"Why, then," said the Old One, "you are the greater fool."</p>
-
-<p>The circle drew closer.</p>
-
-<p>"What then?"</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis but another candle to be snuffed."</p>
-
-<p>With hand on dirk and with back against the waist, the boatswain looked
-one and another and then another in the eye. "Why, then," said he, "I
-must even join you, as you say. But I call upon you all to witness I am
-a forced man." And he looked longest and hardest at the three men from
-the old crew of the Rose of Devon.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One looked back at the lad and there was, for the first time,
-doubt in his glance. He stood for a while pondering in silence all that
-had taken place and studying the face of his boatswain; but his liking
-of the lad's spirit outweighed his doubts, for such bold independence,
-whether in friend or foe, was the one sure key to Tom Jordan's heart.
-"So be it," he said at last. "But remember, my fine young fellow, that
-many a cockerel hath got his neck wrung by crowing out of season." He
-turned to the carpenter. "And what say you? We can use a man of your
-craft."</p>
-
-<p>"I am thy man!" the fellow cried. The stains on the deck had made him
-surpassingly eager, and his one eye winked and his beard wagged, so
-eager was he to declare his allegiance.</p>
-
-<p>"Well said!" the Old One responded. "And now, Master Harry, have them
-up from below&mdash;the sleepers, and the cook and his mate, and all! We
-have taken a fine ship&mdash;a fine ship she will be, at all events, once
-our good carpenter has done his work&mdash;and well found. We needs must
-sign a crew to sail and fight her."</p>
-
-<p>They heard the little round man calling down the hatch and at a great
-distance in the ship they heard the voices of men grumbling at being
-summoned out of sleep. But the grumbling was stilled when one by one
-the men came out on deck; and of them all, not a man refused to cast
-his lot with the Old One and the rest. The mere sight of a little blood
-and of the hard faces that greeted them was enough for most. And two or
-three, of whom Will Canty was one, must fain perceive how futile would
-be present resistance. Indeed, in the years since the old Queen had
-died, and the navy had gone to the dogs, and merchantmen had come to
-sail from the Downs knowing they were likely enough to meet a squadron
-of galleys lying in wait fifty leagues off the Lizard, many a sailor
-had taken his fling at buccaneering; and those that had not, had heard
-such great tales of galleons laden with treasures of the Indies and
-with beautiful dames of Spain that their palates were whetted for a
-taste of the life.</p>
-
-<p>The cook smiled broadly and clapped the boy on the back and cried out
-that as a little lad he had sailed with John Jennings what time John
-Jennings's wench had turned his luck, and that having begun life in
-such brave company, he would gladly end it in a proper voyage if it
-was written that his time was near. They all laughed to see the boy
-turn white and tremble, and they huzzaed the cook for his gallant
-words. But Will Canty met Phil's eyes and there passed between them a
-look that made the Old One frown, for he was a man who saw everything.</p>
-
-<p>The Rose of Devon, although close-hauled by the wind, rolled heavily,
-which was the way of those old tall ships; but the adverse winds and
-high seas she had encountered were of fancy as well as of fact. The sun
-was shining brightly and sky and sea were a clear blue; but despite
-sun and sky and sea no weatherwise man could have believed the dark
-days of the Rose of Devon were at an end. Like so many iron bars the
-shadows of the ropes fell blue on the sails, and the red blotches on
-the deck matched the dull red paint of the stanchions and the waist.
-The carpenter, who had come up with his plane in his hand, fingered the
-steel blade. The boy turned his back on the bloody deck and looked away
-at the sea, for he was a little fellow and not hardened by experience
-of the world.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, my hearts," cried the Old One, and gaily enough he spoke.
-"We are banded together for the good of all. There is no company of
-merchants to profit by our labour and our blood. God hath placed in
-our keeping this brave ship, which will be staunch and sea-worthy
-when our carpenter hath done his work. Harry Malcolm is our mate
-and master gunner as of old, and Phil Marsham shall continue as our
-boatswain&mdash;nay, grumble not! He came with Martin Barwick and he hath
-sat in Mother Taylor's kitchen, where may we all sit soon and raise our
-cans and drink thanks for a rich voyage. There is work to be done, for
-all must be made clean and tight&mdash;yea, and Rab is to be buried."</p>
-
-<p>The little round man was still wandering from gun to gun and smiling
-because the guns pleased him. They were demiculverins of brass, bored
-for a twelve-pound ball and fit to fight the King's battles; but alas!
-they had shown themselves powerless against a foe from within the ship.
-And as the Rose of Devon rolled along in the bright sun, alone in a
-blue sea, the body of Francis Candle lay forgotten in the steerage
-room.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a><br />
-<small>THE PORCUPINE KETCH</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>Looking down from the quarter-deck the Old One spied the cook, who had
-come up to warm his bald head and fat face in the sun and to clear the
-smoke from his nostrils. "Ho, cook," quoth he, "I have a task for thee.
-Break out from the cabin stores rice and currants and cinnamon and the
-finest of thy wheaten flour. Seek you also a few races of green ginger.
-It may chance there is even a little marchpane, for this man Candle had
-a gentle palate. Spare not your old cheese, and if you unearth a cask
-of fine wine fail not to tell of it. In a word, draw forth an abundance
-of the best and make us such a feast as a man may remember in his old
-age."</p>
-
-<p>The cook smiled and rubbed his round paunch (yet cringed a little), for
-he was of a mind, being never slow in such matters, to filch from the
-cabin table whatever he might desire and his heart warmed to hear the
-good victuals named. "Yea, master," he cried, "for thee and for Mate
-Malcolm?"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, thou parsimonious dog! Think you that such are the manners of
-gentlemen mariners? Times have changed. Though I be master, there is no
-salt at my board. One man is as good as another and any man may rub his
-shoulder with mine."</p>
-
-<p>The Old One's own men chuckled at the cook's blank face and the boy
-shivered when he thought that he must wait on them all, of whom one was
-as likely as another to fetch him a blow on the head. But the cook
-went down below and they heard him bawling to his mate to come and help
-break out the cabin stores, and word went through the ship of what
-was afoot. And though Will Canty and the boatswain, meeting, glanced
-dubiously each at the other, as did others of the Rose of Devon's old
-company,&mdash;for matters are in a sad way in a ship when the master feasts
-the men,&mdash;all the foolish fellows were clapping one another on the back
-and crying that here was a proper captain, and there was none quite so
-mad as to dispute them in so many words.</p>
-
-<p>The smoke grew thick between the decks, and after a while there rose
-the smell of baking and roasting, and the foolish ones patted their
-bellies and smacked their lips. They whispered about that the boy was
-spreading with a linen cloth the table in the great cabin and that the
-cook's mate was staggering under weight of rich food; and when the cook
-called for men to hoist out a cask of such nectar as poor sailors know
-not the like of, a great cheer went up and there were more hands to
-haul than there was room on the rope.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One, leaning on the poop, smiled and Harry Malcolm, coming to
-join him, smiled too; for they knew well the hearts of sailormen and
-did nothing without a purpose.</p>
-
-<p>So the table was laid and the feast was spread and in came the men.
-Only one remained at the helm, for the wind was light, which made
-light his task; six remained on deck to watch and stand by, with Harry
-Malcolm curled against the light gun on the quarter-deck to command
-them; and the cook and his mate, resting from their labours far down in
-the hold, gorged themselves on good food and drank themselves drunk
-on nappy liquor from a cask they had cannily marked for their own
-among the cabin stores. Of the rest, all that could find room crowded
-into the great cabin, and all that could find no room in the cabin
-squatted on the deck outside the door on the very spot where Francis
-Candle had fallen dead. They sat with their backs against bulkheads and
-stanchions, where they, too, could join in the feast and the council;
-and the boy, when all were fed, gathered meat from under the table like
-old King Adoni-bezek of unhappy memory.</p>
-
-<p>It was a sight to remember, for very merry they were and save as they
-were rough, hard-featured men, a man would never have dreamed they bore
-blood on their hands and murder on their hearts. The Old One sat at the
-head of the table and took care that neither food nor wine was stinted.
-The carpenter, his one eye twinkling with pleasure and his beard
-waggling in his haste lest another should get ahead of him at trencher
-work, sat on the Old One's right, which was accorded him as a mark of
-honour since he had accomplished marvels in restoring the planking the
-storm had torn asunder. A stout seaman of the rescued men, Paul Craig
-by name&mdash;it was he who had needed two blows to kill the helmsman&mdash;sat
-at the Old One's left and squared his big shoulders over his meat and
-ate like a hog till he could hold no more, for he was an ox of great
-girth and short temper and little wit, who ate by custom more than did
-him good. Another of gaunt frame, Joseph Kirk by name, sat smiling at a
-man here and a man there and tippled till his head wagged; and off in
-a corner there sat a keen little man with a hooked nose, who was older
-than most of those in the cabin yet had scarcely a wrinkle to mar the
-smoothness of his shaven face save above and behind his eyes, where a
-few deep lines gave him the wild look of a hawk.</p>
-
-<p>When he spoke, which was seldom, thick gutturals confused his words,
-and always he sat in corners. Does not a man looking out of a corner,
-with a wall on two sides of him and no one behind him, see more than
-another? His Christian name was Jacob and most of them knew him by no
-other; but mocking him they called it "Yacob." Further than that, which
-he took with a wry smile, they refrained from mocking him, for though
-he spoke little, his silence said much.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One rose and very sober he was as he held high a brimming can,
-and so steady was his hand that not a drop spilled. For a space he
-paused and looked around at the rough company seated at the long table
-and crouching in the mellow shadows beyond the door, then, "To the
-King!" he cried.</p>
-
-<p>Those not knowing him well, who stared in perplexity at such a toast
-in such a place and time, saw his eyes twinkle and perceived he was
-looking at old Jacob in the corner. Then old Jacob, smiling as at a
-familiar jest, rose in turn and raised his can likewise, and pausing to
-look about him, cried back at the Old One in his thick foreign voice,
-"The King and his ships&mdash;be damned!"</p>
-
-<p>A yell of laughter and derision shook the cabin. The one-eyed carpenter
-leaped up first, then such of the rescued men as were not too drunk to
-stand, then here and there men of the Rose of Devon's company, some
-eagerly in all earnestness, others having a mind to keep their throats
-in one piece, for they perceived that like enough the unholy toast was
-but to try their allegiance.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One's eyes leaped from man to man and his cold voice cut
-through the noisy riot of drunken mirth. "I had said Will Canty was a
-man of spirit, but his can hugs the table when these tall fellows are
-drinking confusion to the King."</p>
-
-<p>"A hand-napper, a hand-napper! Have him away, my hearts, to the Halifax
-engine," Joe Kirk bawled with a drunken leer.</p>
-
-<p>"Why," said Will Canty, and his face was white, but with a red spot on
-either cheek, "my can, since you say what you say, was dry; and for the
-matter of that, I am no prating Puritan who wishes ill to the King."</p>
-
-<p>Over the rumble of voices the Old One's voice rose loudest: "See you,
-then, religious cobblers or preaching button-makers among us?"</p>
-
-<p>"And there are others yet besides prating Puritans, mine friend, that
-drink our toast!" cried Jacob.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One then smiled, for he was no man to drive a nail with a
-two-hand sledge. But although he changed his manner as fast and often
-as light flickers on running water, under the surface there flowed a
-strong, even current of liking or ill will, as sooner or later all men
-that had dealings with him must learn, some to their wonder and some to
-their sorrow. "Enough, enough!" said he. "Will's a good lad and he'll
-serve us well when there's powder smoke to snuff. Be you not offended,
-Will. In all faith our ship is a king's ship and more, for are we not
-thirty kings, to fight our own battles and heave out our own flag
-before the world and take such treasures as will buy us, each and all,
-a king's palace and all the wives a king could wish? Nay, God helping
-us, my hearts, we shall carry home to good Mother Taylor riches that
-will serve for a sponge to wipe the chalk from every black post in
-Cornwall and in Devon, and Will Canty shall drink with us there."</p>
-
-<p>There rose a thunder of fists beating the board and a rumble of
-"Yea's," and the Old One made no end of smiling, but there were some
-whom his smile failed to deceive.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, boy, with thy pitcher of sack! Pour sack for all!" he cried.
-"Come, ply thy task and let no man go wanting. Fill you Will Canty's
-pot." He gulped down a mighty draught and wiped his moustaches with
-thumb and forefinger. "And now, brave lads, let us have our heads
-together: though we lie but a hundred leagues off these banks of
-Newfoundland, what say you? Shall we turn our backs on them and take a
-fling at a braver trade? Or shall we taste of fat lobsters and great
-cod, and perchance pluck the feathers from some of these New England
-towns concerning which there hath lately been such a buzz of talk
-in old England&mdash;at Cape Ann, let us say at venture, or Naumkeag, or
-Plymouth Colony?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea! I am for Cape Ann," cried Joe Kirk, and his head rolled
-drunkenly above his great shoulders as he bolstered his opinion with
-curses. "Did not my brother go thither, years and years agone, for the
-company of Dorchester merchants? Yea, and told rare tales of succulent
-great fish, which are a marvelous diet."</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, thy brother was as great a sot as thou," a voice put in, and Joe
-rose in anger, but a general clamour drowned his retort and he lapsed
-back into a sodden lethargy.</p>
-
-<p>"As for me," bellowed Martin with bluster and bravado, "I say go we
-to Plymouth and rap the horns of these schismatic Puritans. Tell me
-not but that they've mines of rich gold hid away. Did'st ever see a
-Roundhead knave would brave the wild lions of America unless he thought
-there was gold in't?"</p>
-
-<p>"Thou thyself art fool as well as knave," quoth the Old One. "Did'st
-thou not once cry the whole ship's company out of sleep to see a
-mermaid that would entice thee to thy peril? And when sober men had
-come on deck there was nought there but a seal-fish at play. Lions
-forsooth! In Africa even I have heard a lion roar, but not in America.
-Much searching of tracts hath stuffed thy head."</p>
-
-<p>The drunken Joe roused sleepily up. "My brother saw a lion at Cape Ann
-plantation. My brother&mdash;" He drew a knife and wildly flourished it, but
-fell back in a stupor before the laughter died.</p>
-
-<p>Martin's bluster, as was its way when a man boldly confronted it, broke
-like a pricked bubble, but his sullen glare caught the Old One's eye.</p>
-
-<p>Leaning over the table, the Old One said in a low, taunting voice, "And
-did you never see a man dance on air? Ah, there's a sight to catch the
-breath in your throat and make an emptiness in a man's belly!"</p>
-
-<p>As often happens when there has been a great noise and a man speaks in
-a low voice, there was a quick lull and the words came out as clear as
-the ringing of a half crown. Phil Marsham, looking across the table
-into the Old One's cold blue eyes, which were fixed on Martin, saw in
-them a flicker of calculating amusement; then he saw that Martin was
-swallowing as if he had a fishbone in his throat.</p>
-
-<p>In truth Martin wore the sickly smile that a man affects when he is
-cornered and wishes to appear braver than he is. He tried to speak but
-succeeded only in running his tongue over his lips, which needed it if
-they were as dry as they were blue.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, come, we get no place!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yacob! Yacob!" they cried at the sound of his voice, "Up on thy feet,
-Yacob!"</p>
-
-<p>He rose and stood in his corner. His long hair was brushed back from
-a forehead so high that it reached to a great lump on the crown of
-his head. His brows were knit with intense earnestness. His big nose
-and curled lips and small chin were set in what might have seemed in
-another place and another time scholarly intentness. They did him
-honour by waiting in silence for his words.</p>
-
-<p>"This bickering and jangling brings us no place. Shall we go on or
-shall we go back? Shall we go north or shall we go south? Those are
-questions we must answer. Now I will tell you. If we go on, we shall
-find little fishing ships, with fish and no chinks, and we shall get
-tired of eating fish. If we go back in this fine ship that God in his
-goodness hath given us, we shall hang. We may yet go back to Mother
-Taylor, but we must go back in another ship. You know why. Now, brave
-hearts, if we go on to New England it shall profit us nothing. For the
-New-English are poor. They live in little huts. The savages come down
-out of the woods and kill. Whether there be lions I do not know and I
-do not care; those savages I have seen and they are a very ugly sight.
-The English plantations are cold in winter like the devil. They are
-poor. The English, they play with poverty.</p>
-
-<p>"And if we go south? Ah-h-h! There are the Spains! They have sun and
-warmth and fruits and spices! They have mines of gold and silver
-and stones of great price. While the English play with poverty, the
-Spains play with empires! In New England we shall eat salt cods or
-starve&mdash;which is much the same, for salt cods are a poor diet. But in
-the South we shall maybe catch a galleon with a vast treasure." And
-with that, very serious and sure of his rightness, he sat down.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, Yacob! Yea, Yacob!" they bawled and delighting in the
-alliteration cried it again, over and over.</p>
-
-<p>Paul Craig, heavy with sated gluttony, piped a shrill "Yea, Yacob,"
-and the Old One pounded the table and grinned, for he had sailed many
-seas in Jacob's company. Phil Marsham&mdash;nay, and even Will Canty,
-too!&mdash;pricked ears at the sound of Spanish galleons; for the blue
-Caribbean and the blue hills of the main were fabled, as all knew, to
-hold such wealth as according to the tales of the old travellers was to
-be found in Cathay or along the banks of the first of the four rivers
-out of Paradise. And was not a Spanish ship fair prey for the most
-law-abiding of English mariners?</p>
-
-<p>There was a hubbub of talk as they sat there, and there was no doubt
-but they were of one mind to turn their backs on the bleak northern
-coast and seek a golden fortune in the south. But the council arrived
-suddenly at an end when down from the deck came the lingering call, "A
-sa-i-l! A sa-i-l!"</p>
-
-<p>Up, then, the Old One leaped, and he raised his hand. "A sail is cried.
-What say you?"</p>
-
-<p>"Let us not cast away what God hath offered us!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, Yacob!"</p>
-
-<p>"Up, you dogs in the steerage! A hall, a hall!"</p>
-
-<p>One fell over on the table in drunken torpor. Another rushed out the
-door and tumbled over a sleeper at the threshold.</p>
-
-<p>"Up, you dogs! How stands he?"</p>
-
-<p>They poured out of the cabin to the deck.</p>
-
-<p>"He stands on the lee bow!"</p>
-
-<p>"Bear up the helm! A fresh man at the helm!" the Old One thundered. He
-squinted across the sea. "Come, Harry&mdash;here on the poop&mdash;and tell me if
-she be not a ketch. Now she lifts&mdash;now she falls. 'Twill be a chase, I
-take it."</p>
-
-<p>The round little mate came nimbly up the ladder.</p>
-
-<p>"Helm a-luff!" said he in his light, quick voice, which at first the
-helmsman failed to hear. "Helm a-luff! A-luff, man! Art deaf? The
-courses hide her. There she lifts! Yea, a ketch. Let us see. It is now
-an hour to sunset. If we stand across her bows and bear a sharp watch
-we shall come up with her in early evening and a very proper moment it
-will be."</p>
-
-<p>His light, incisive speech, so unlike the boisterous ranting of the Old
-One, in its own way curiously influenced even the Old One himself. A
-man who has a trick of getting at sound reasons, unmoved by bluster or
-emotion, can hold his own in any company; and many a quiet voice can
-fire a ship's crew to action as a slow match fires a cannon.</p>
-
-<p>"Now, young men," Martin roared, "up aloft and loose fore and main
-topsails. And oh that our stout mizzenmast were standing yet!"</p>
-
-<p>"No, no, no!" cried Harry Malcolm and he almost raised his voice. "Thy
-haste, thou pop-eyed fool, would work the end of us all. Think you, if
-they see us fling every sail to the wind, they will abide our coming
-without charging their guns and stationing every gunner with linstock
-and lighted match? Nay, though she be but a ketch, let us go limping
-across her bows as lame as a pipped hen."</p>
-
-<p>"True, and with every man lying by the side of his gun, where they
-shall not see him until we haul up the ports and show the teeth of
-the good ship." It was Jacob who spoke thus as he climbed to Harry
-Malcolm's side.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One, looking down at the deck below, touched his mate's arm.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, I see them. What do you want?"</p>
-
-<p>"It seems," said the Old One, "that our boatswain hath a liking for the
-fellow."</p>
-
-<p>"And that the fellow hath a liking for our boatswain, think you?"</p>
-
-<p>"Well?"</p>
-
-<p>Jacob thrust his long nose between them. "'Well,' you say, by which you
-mean 'not well.' It proves nothing that a man will not drink damnation
-to a king."</p>
-
-<p>The three heads met, high on the poop, and now and again they glanced
-down at the two lads who stood by the waist and watched the distant
-sail, which grew black as the sun set behind it.</p>
-
-<p>The sun set and the sea darkened and a light flamed up on board the
-chase, which appeared to show her good faith by standing toward the
-Rose of Devon.</p>
-
-<p>There was a rumble of laughter among the men when they perceived she
-had changed her course. The sober wrung oaths from the drunk by dashing
-bucketfuls of cold water in their faces. The gunners moved like shadows
-among the guns. And high on the poop, three shadows again merged into
-one.</p>
-
-<p>"Master Boatswain," the Old One called, but softly, "do thou take it
-upon thyself, although it lies outside thine own province, to make
-sure that powder and balls and sponges and ladles and rammers are laid
-ready."</p>
-
-<p>Hunching his bent shoulders, Mate Malcolm came nimbly down the ladder
-and from the chest of arms drew forth muskets and pistols.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, my bullies below there, knock open your ports!" It was the Old
-One's voice, but so softly and briskly did he speak that it might have
-been Harry Malcolm.</p>
-
-<p>As the dim figures on deck moved cautiously about, the subdued voice
-again floated down to them:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"Let all the guns be loose in tackles and stand by to run them out when
-the word is given. Port your helm! Every man to his quarters. Now, my
-hearts, be ready to show your courage and we'll have this wandering
-ketch for a consort to our good Rose of Devon."</p>
-
-<p>Then Harry Malcolm came in haste along the deck. "Who's to this gun?
-And who to this? Nay, you've a man too many there. Here, fellow, come
-hither! Here a man is lacking. You there, who are playing the part of
-gunner, have you ever heard these bulldogs bark? And understand you the
-business? Good, good!" And he passed on up the deck. Nought escaped
-him. In the silence they heard the sound of his voice and the quick
-pattering of his feet when they could see no more than that he was
-still moving among the guns.</p>
-
-<p>They had come so near the stranger that they must soon hail or be
-hailed, when a figure emerging from the steerage room in the darkness
-came upon Phil Marsham by the quarter-deck ladder and gave a great
-start. As Phil turned, the fellow whispered, "God be thanked it is
-thou! I thought it was another. Come with me to the side&mdash;here by the
-shrouds."</p>
-
-<p>The two stepped lightly under the shadow of the quarter-deck to the
-waist, where the carpenter had nailed in place new planks not twelve
-hours since, and together they raised a bundle. It was on the larboard
-side, and since all had gathered for the moment to starboard to watch
-the strange ketch, there was no man to observe them. Some one moved
-above them and they hesitated, then they heard slow steps receding and
-thick undertones that they recognized as Jacob's. When he had gone,
-the one who had brought the bundle whispered, "Heave it far out," and
-together they hove it.</p>
-
-<p>Still in the shadow of the quarter-deck, the two slipped silently back,
-unseen, and when Harry Malcolm came hurrying from one side, and Jacob
-from the other, to see what had made the splash, there was no one there
-nor could any man answer their questions.</p>
-
-<p>"Have you done as you said?" Phil asked in a breathless whisper.</p>
-
-<p>"That I have." And it was Will Canty who spoke.</p>
-
-<p>"Then we shall like enough be hanged; but thou art a tall fellow and I
-love thee for it."</p>
-
-<p>There came over the water a voice distinctly calling, "Whence your
-ship?"</p>
-
-<p>"Back to your guns, ye dogs!" cried Mate Malcolm in a voice that could
-be heard the length of the deck, yet that was not loud enough to be
-heard on board the stranger.</p>
-
-<p>"Of England," the Old One called from the quarter-deck. "And whence is
-yours?"</p>
-
-<p>There was a space of silence, in which the two vessels came nearer each
-other, and I would have you know that hearts ever so courageous were
-thumping at a lively pace.</p>
-
-<p>"And yours?" the Old One cried the second time.</p>
-
-<p>There came voices and a hoarse laugh from the stranger, then, "Are you
-merchants or men of war?"</p>
-
-<p>"Of the sea," cried the Old One in a voice so like thunder that a man
-would not think it could have come from his lean throat. "Run out
-your guns, O my hearts! Let him have the chase guns first. The chase
-guns&mdash;the chase guns!"</p>
-
-<p>Now one bawled down the main hatch, and another below echoed his cry,
-then there sounded the quick <i>boom-boom</i> from the bows. The guns had
-spoken and the fight was on.</p>
-
-<p>"Up your helm&mdash;up your helm! Hold your fire now, my hearts, and have at
-them!" the Old One cried.</p>
-
-<p>And now the voice came again over the restless sea. "Our ship is the
-Porcupine ketch and our quills are set."</p>
-
-<p>The dark sea tossed and rolled between the vessels and little that
-happened on board either was visible to the other, so black was the
-night; but the light of the sky, which the water reflected, made of
-each a black shape clear-cut as of jet but finer than the most cunning
-hand could carve, in which a man might trace every line and rope.</p>
-
-<p>And now from on board the ketch jets of flame burst out and after them
-came smartly the crack of muskets.</p>
-
-<p>"Now, lads," the Old One thundered, "give fire and make an end of this
-petty galling. Give fire!"</p>
-
-<p>A gun on the maintop-deck boomed and another followed; but there
-was confusion and stumbling and all were slow for want of practice
-together, and there was time lost ere the third gun spoke. Then, while
-Mate Malcolm was storming up the deck and the Old One was storming
-down, they heard the strange master calling to his gunners; then, to
-the vast amazement of the men of the Rose of Devon, who had cherished
-the delusion that their chase was a weak craft and an easy prize, on
-board the ketch as many as a dozen guns belched flame. Their thunder
-shook the sea and their balls sang through the rigging, and a lucky
-shot struck the Rose of Devon in the forecastle and went crashing
-through the bulkhead.</p>
-
-<p>The ketch then tacked as if to give fire with her other broadside but
-deftly swung back again and before the Old One or Harry Malcolm had
-fathomed the meaning of it there rose from on board her, the cries of
-"Bear up and close with him!"&mdash;"Board him on his quarter!" "Have ready
-your graplins!"</p>
-
-<p>"Sheer off, sheer off!" old Jacob roared. "Our powder is good for
-nought. Yea, she is in all truth a prickly porcupine."</p>
-
-<p>"If we foul, cut anything to get clear!" cried the Old One. "Put down
-your helm! Veer out your sheets! Cast off weather sheets and braces!
-Aloft, there, and clear the main yard where the cut tacklings foul it!
-Good lad, boatswain, good lad!"</p>
-
-<p>For on the yardarm Phil had drawn dirk and cut at the snarl of ropes,
-where a chance ball had wrought much mischief. Then, as the two vessels
-swung side by side he looked squarely into the eyes of a bearded man in
-the rigging of the ketch.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One&mdash;give the Devil his due!&mdash;was handling his ship in a proper
-manner and by luffing he had kept abreast of those guns in the ketch
-which had spent their charges. But it was plain that the Rose of Devon
-had caught a tartar. In all truth, she had run upon a porcupine with
-quills set, for though a smaller vessel, the ketch, it now appeared,
-carried as many men or more, and every man knew his place and duty.
-Looking down on her deck, Phil saw her gun crews toiling with sponges
-and rammers to load anew.</p>
-
-<p>She was herself, it seemed, a sea rover athirst for blood and in those
-wild, remote seas there was no fraternity among thieves. As the main
-yardarm of the Rose of Devon swung toward her rigging when the ship
-rolled, the bearded man ran a rope about the spar and in a moment the
-vessels were locked abeam and were drifting together till their sides
-should touch.</p>
-
-<p>Philip Marsham again drew the dirk that Colin Samson had wrought for
-him and leaning far out struck at the fellow's breast, who swung back
-to avoid the thrust, which pricked him but did no more. Then the fellow
-sprang to the attack with his own knife in hand, for he had thrown
-a knot in the rope, which creaked and tightened; and with a yell of
-triumph he struck at the lad, who swung to one side and struck back.</p>
-
-<p>It was a brave fight in the empty air, and the two were like warring
-spiders as they circled and swung in the darkness and thrust each at
-the other. But the lad was many years the younger, and by so much the
-more nimble, and his dirk&mdash;for which all thanks to Colin Samson!&mdash;smote
-the fellow a slashing blow in the thigh. And while the fellow clung to
-the shrouds, weak with pain, a second Rose-of-Devon's man came crawling
-over Phil who hung below from the yard, and slashed the rope.</p>
-
-<p>"We are clear! We are clear! God be thanked!" the Old One yelled.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the men of the Rose of Devon had succeeded in firing
-three guns of the larboard broadside, which by the grace of Divine
-Providence wrought such ruin in the stranger's running gear that the
-one crew of rascals was enabled to escape fit retribution at the hands
-of the other. The peak of her great foresail fell and in a moment her
-cut halyards were swept into a snarl that needed time and daylight for
-untangling.</p>
-
-<p>So the Rose of Devon slipped past the ketch, whose men were striving
-to clear the rigging and come about in pursuit, and having once evaded
-her erstwhile chase, the old ship ran away in the night. With her
-lights out and all the sail spread that she could carry, and favoured
-by clouds and fog, she made good her escape; but there was grumbling
-forward and grumbling aft, and there was a dead man to heave over the
-side.</p>
-
-<p>It served Philip Marsham better than he knew that he had fought a duel
-on the yardarm; for dark though the night had been, there had happened
-little that escaped the Old One's eye; and bitter though Tom Jordan's
-temper and angry his mood, he was always one to give credit where he
-believed it due.</p>
-
-<p>When he wiped the blood from the dirk, Phil remembered with gratitude
-the good smith, Colin Samson. Then he thought of the old lady and
-gentleman at the inn, and of Nell Entick, and bluff Sir John. He would
-have been glad enough to be out of the Rose of Devon and away, but for
-better or worse he had cast his lot in the ship, and though he little
-liked the lawless turn her affairs had taken, a man cannot run away by
-night from a ship on the high seas.</p>
-
-<p>All hands stood watch till dawn as a tribute to the war of one pirate
-upon another, and not until the sun had risen and shown no sail in
-sight did the Old One himself go into the great cabin.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a><br />
-<small>A BIRD TO BE LIMED</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>A lad being called into council by such a man as Tom Jordan might well
-think himself a fine fellow, and rare enough were lads whom Tom Jordan
-would thus have summoned. But although Philip Marsham, it seemed, had
-taken the Old One's eye and won his heart long before on the little
-hill beside the road, when Phil had drawn the wind from Martin's sails,
-and although it had not escaped Tom Jordan that Phil's hand moved
-easily toward his weapon, the old proverb has it "a man that flattereth
-his neighbor, spreadeth a net for his steps"; and "he that whistleth
-merrily, spreadeth his nets cunningly and hunteth after his prey
-greedily."</p>
-
-<p>So, "Come, boatswain, and lend us thy wits," cried Tom. "Four heads
-shall provide more wisdom than three." And with that, he clapped Phil
-on the back and drew him into the cabin where Jacob and the mate sat
-deep in talk of the night's adventures.</p>
-
-<p>"A hawk, when she is first dressed and ready to fly," said Jacob, "is
-sharp set and hath a great will upon her. If the falconer do not then
-follow it, she will be dulled for ever after. So, master, a man! Yea,
-and a ship."</p>
-
-<p>"A great will, sayest thou?" quoth the Old One, and his voice revealed
-his sullen anger. "Why then, in God's name, did ye not rake them with
-a broadside or twain?" With which he turned on Harry Malcolm, thus to
-include him in the charge.</p>
-
-<p>"For one thing," replied Malcolm, and testily, for ill temper prevailed
-both aft and forward, "we gave the gunners no firing to learn them
-their guns. For another thing, the powder failed us. For yet another,
-since you say what you say, and be cursed for it, 'twere a mad, foolish
-notion to run afoul a strange ship, for we have but a half the company
-we need to work a ship and fight. And finally, to cap our woeful
-proverbs, we know what we know&mdash;yea," and he shot a dark glance from
-under bent brows, "we know what we know; there be those who come toward
-us with their feet, but go from us with their hearts." His voice, as
-always, was light and quick, but there was a rumble in it, such as one
-may sometimes hear in a dog's throat.</p>
-
-<p>As the three men looked first at one and then at another, there came to
-Boatswain Marsham, sitting as it were outside their circle, the uneasy
-throbbing of their suspicion.</p>
-
-<p>"Of the powder," said Jacob coolly, "I have taken a little from each
-barrel." He laid on the table seven packages wrapped in leaves from an
-old book. Regarding closely the notes he had written on each package,
-he opened them one by one and placed them in a row.</p>
-
-<p>"This," said he, "is from the barrel that good Harry Malcolm served
-out to the men and that doubtless this man Candle hath used from in
-old days. It hath lost its strength by long lying. Press it with thy
-fingers and thou shalt feel it soft to the touch. Here upon this white
-sheet of paper I lay four corns of this powder. This other powder"&mdash;and
-he chose a second package&mdash;"is from a barrel new opened. Press it and
-thou shalt see how firm and hard is each corn. And this, too, is firm
-and of a fair azure. And so, also, this. But this&mdash;" and he first put
-his eyes close to the notes on each remaining packet, then held them
-far off, for his sight, although good at a great distance, made out
-with difficulty things near at hand, "this is from a barrel that hath
-lost its strength by moisture; and this hath a fault I shall tell you
-of."</p>
-
-<p>Taking a pinch of each, as he spoke, he had laid the corns, each some
-three fingers distant from the next, in a circle on the paper. He then
-struck tinder, and lighting a match made of twisted cords of tow boiled
-in strong lye-ashes and saltpetre, he held it over a corn of the good
-powder. There was a flash and puff, and the ring of powder was gone.
-The corns of good powder had fired speedily and left only a chalky
-whiteness in their place, nor had they burned the paper or given off
-smoke; but the corns of poor powder had burned slowly, and some had
-scorched the paper and some had given forth smoke.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One softly swore. "And have we, then," asked he, "but three
-barrels of good powder?"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, there are more than three. This last is weak because they have
-neglected to turn the barrels upside down, so the petre has settled
-from top to bottom, as is its way. We shall find the bottom as strong
-as the top is weak, and by turning the barrel we shall renew its
-strength evenly."</p>
-
-<p>"As for the powder that hath spoiled by long lying," cried Philip
-Marsham, "I will undertake to make it as good as new."</p>
-
-<p>"Do you, boatswain, mind your sails and cordage," said old Jacob,
-with a wry smile. "An you wish to grind it in the mortar, that you
-may; but it is I who will measure the petre. Nay, I will make you, if
-you wish it for a wonder to show friends, a powder of any colour you
-please&mdash;white, red, blue, or green."</p>
-
-<p>Of the three who leaned over the packets of powder, old Jacob was the
-only one who bore with even temper the sad reverse of the night before;
-for master and mate glared at each other in such wrath as had thrown a
-shadow over every soul in the ship.</p>
-
-<p>Some had waked with aching heads, for which they had their own folly
-to thank; some were like men who dream they have got a great treasure
-but wake to find pebblestones or worse under the pillow: since the
-Porcupine ketch had yielded them no gold and had stung them instead
-with her quills. In all truth the ship was by the ears, for in
-extremities your sea sharks are uncertain friends, as a touch of foul
-weather will manifest to any man's satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p>"Enough of this," said the Old One, and he pushed aside the packets and
-folded his arms. "We lose time. There is a thief amongst us."</p>
-
-<p>"A thief, you say?" And the hot red of anger burned its way across the
-boatswain's face, for the three had turned and looked hard at him.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One and Harry Malcolm then exchanged quick glances, and Jacob
-shut his small mouth tight and knotted his brows.</p>
-
-<p>"Well," cried Phil, "would you charge me with theft?"</p>
-
-<p>"Some one," said the Old One, lingering over each word, "hath wrought a
-clever plot against us."</p>
-
-<p>"Say on, say on!"</p>
-
-<p>"He is a man, I make no doubt, whose buttons are breaking with venom."</p>
-
-<p>There was heavy silence in the cabin. Jacob, pursing his lips and
-knotting his brows, looked from one of them to another, and Phil,
-vaguely on the defensive, drew back and gave them a gaze as steady as
-they sent.</p>
-
-<p>"He is doubtless a very cunning rascal," Harry Malcolm put in, "who
-hath cut his cloth by his wits; but he is making a suit that will
-throttle him by its narrowness about the neck."</p>
-
-<p>The master and mate once more exchanged glances and the Old One then
-smiled lightly, as if again there were sunlight rippling over dark
-water.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, Philip, we think no ill of thee. But do thou have care to thy
-company. A foul trick hath been done with a mind to render us helpless
-at sea, so that we must crawl to the nearest land, where some base
-dunghill spirit is doubtless of a mind to leave our company. But we
-have resources; yea, and of thee, Philip, we think no ill."</p>
-
-<p>Despite their fair words, though, they were watching Philip Marsham
-like three old tomcats watching a sparrow, and he, being no fool, knew
-the reason why.</p>
-
-<p>Three hard faces they showed: the one, handsome in a devilish way and
-keen; the second, unassuming, yet deeply astute and marked by a deeper
-rooted, if less frank, selfishness; the third, older, wiser, more
-self-centred.</p>
-
-<p>The eyes of master and mate were coldly cruel; but old Jacob was too
-intent on his own thoughts to be cruel save by indifference.</p>
-
-<p>All that day Jacob squatted on the deck and toiled with tools and wood.
-From the wood he chose certain long pieces, fine-grained and straight
-and dry and free from knots, and certain shorter and broader pieces
-that were suited to his purpose, and bade the carpenter plane them
-smooth. He laid out scales, working with a small square and a pair
-of compasses, and engraved them with utmost care. He wrought brass
-into curious shapes by a plan he made, and from morning till night he
-kept at the task, frowning and ciphering and sitting deep in thought.
-He called for charcoal and a mortar, and beat the charcoal to a fine
-powder and tempered it with linseed oil. This he rubbed into the wood
-he had shaped to his liking, and watched it a long while, now and again
-touching it to try it; then with oil from a phial he had found in a
-chest in the great cabin he rubbed the wood clean, and there were left
-in the wood, set off neatly in black, the gradations and figures he had
-so exactly etched.</p>
-
-<p>Taking his work into the great cabin, he toiled on by lanthorn light
-until a late hour, and there through the open door men as they passed
-might see him hunched over the table with his medley of tools about
-him. But when at last he leaned back and drew a long breath of relief,
-very serious and very wise, his work was done, and curiously and deftly
-contrived it was.</p>
-
-<p>On the table before him there lay a cross-staff, a nocturnal and a
-Gunter's scale, "with which," said he, to the Old One, who sat opposite
-him quietly taking tobacco and sipping wine, "and with what instruments
-the thief hath left us, a man can navigate a ship where he will."</p>
-
-<p>Examining closely the nocturnal, which was intricately carved and
-engraved, the Old One muttered, as if ignoring Jacob's words, "I will
-yet lime that bird."</p>
-
-<p>"Though he be never so mad a callant, I misdoubt he will put his head
-into a noose," said Jacob in his thick, serious voice.</p>
-
-<p>"Be he the one we think or not the one we think, I will set him such
-a trap," said the Old One, "as will take the cunningest fox that ever
-doubled on the hounds." And the thin face smiled in a way that was not
-pleasant to see.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a><br />
-<small>A WONDERFUL EXCELLENT COOK</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>If an astrologer or an Arabian enchanter could say to a man, "Beware
-of this or that, for it is a thing conceived of the Devil to work thy
-ruin," there would be reason for studying the stars or smiting the
-sand. And this, indeed, they do, according to the old tales. But if a
-sailor seek out an astrologer to learn things that shall profit him,
-he is more likely to find a man grown foolish by much study, who will
-stroke his chin sagely and say, "Come, let us look into this matter.
-Under Capricorn are all diseases in the knees and hams, leprosies, itch
-and scales and schirrous tumors, fallow grounds and barren fields,
-ox-houses and cow-houses, low dark places near the ground, and places
-where sails and materials for ships be laid." And while he talks of
-fixed angles and of the Lord of the Ascendant being in the fourth week,
-some small unsuspected thing may be the very egg on which the Devil is
-sitting like an old black hen to hatch forth a general calamity.</p>
-
-<p>Thus certain incidents that shortly thereafter happened are to the
-point, for although they appeared of little moment at the time, they
-turned the tide of men's lives and made a stir that has to do with the
-current of my tale.</p>
-
-<p>Now the men of the Rose of Devon sighted a sail at high noon when they
-were a week on their way south, and though she showed her heels and
-ran, and though the Rose of Devon lacked her mizzenmast, the strange
-vessel was but a small pink and so slow that they laid her aboard two
-hours before dark. In her crew she had only a dozen men, and sorely
-frightened they were, as they tossed in the lee of the dark frigate.
-So to save themselves from a more cruel fate there was scarcely one of
-them but leaped at the chance to join the Rose of Devon's crew. They
-tumbled up their small cargo of salt fish for Bilbao and hoisted it on
-board the ship, together with their shallop, and casting their pink
-adrift, they forbore from complaining when their new master and his men
-stole whatever pleased them, from the new men's rings and knives to the
-very clothes on their backs. So, with her plunder and her recruits, the
-Rose of Devon again squared her yards and continued on her course.</p>
-
-<p>There was, to be sure, one fellow of mean spirit who whined dolefully,
-upon conceiving his present extremity to be distasteful. But another
-got comfort by knocking him on the head when no one was looking; and
-finding him dead, the Old One hove him over-board and there was no
-further trouble from the fishermen.</p>
-
-<p>Yet it was no secret that there was grumbling and complaining forward
-among the gentlemen of the Rose of Devon, so the Old One sent the
-boatswain to summon them aft when the watches were changing.</p>
-
-<p>He leaned against the swivel gun on the quarter-deck, and looking down
-into their faces, smiled disagreeably. "It hath come to my ears," said
-he, "that one hath a sad tale to tell because we failed to take the
-Porcupine, which, though a mere ketch, outnumbered us in guns and men.
-And another hath a sad tale to tell because this pink that late became
-our prize is small and of little worth, though we got from her eleven
-brave fellows who shall be worth a store of fine gold." He looked from
-one of his men to another, for they were all there,&mdash;Martin and the
-cook, and Philip Marsham and Will Canty, and Paul Craig and Joe Kirk,
-the one-eyed carpenter and the rest,&mdash;and his thin face settled into
-the many wrinkles that had got him his name. There was none of them,
-unless it might be Harry Malcolm or Old Jacob, who could say surely at
-one time or another what thoughts were uppermost in Tom Jordan's shrewd
-head.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, now, my hearts of gold," he cried, "let us have an end of such
-folly. Said I not that these northern fisheries were meat for crows?
-And that we must go south to find prey for eagles? We will choose a
-fine harbour by some green island where there's rich fruit for the
-picking and fat fish for the catching, and we will build there a town
-of our own. We will take toll from the King of Spain's ships; we will
-take us wives and women and gold and wine from the dons of the islands
-and the main. Yea, we will lay up a great store of riches and live in
-fullness of bread and abundance of idleness."</p>
-
-<p>Some were pleased, but some doubted still, which the Old One
-perceiving, for he read their faces, cried, "Nay, speak up, speak up!
-Let us have no fair-protesting friends with hollow and undermining
-hearts."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, it is a fair tale," cried one, in a surly voice, "but thus far we
-have blows to show for our pains&mdash;blows and a kettle of fish."</p>
-
-<p>"And methinks," another growled, "we shall see more of salt fish and
-buccaned meat, than of fine wines and gold and handsome women."</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis a swinish thought," the Old One retorted; but he smiled when he
-said it, so that they took no offense, for of such grumbling he had no
-fear. He was set to catch a bird of quite another feather.</p>
-
-<p>Then old Jacob rose and they were silent to hear him. "Let us make an
-end of talk," said he slowly. "We are on our way south and to stop or
-turn aside would be nothing but foolishness." And with that, although
-they had expected him to say more, he turned away.</p>
-
-<p>Then, of a sudden, "Come, Will," the Old One cried, singling out his
-man from all the rest, "what say you?"</p>
-
-<p>If Will Canty's face changed at all, it was a whit the paler as he met
-the Old One's eyes. "I say," he replied, "that since we have fish on
-board, we are sure of fish and would do well to eat fish ere we lose
-it."</p>
-
-<p>"There is sooth in thy words," quoth the Old One, and he smiled in
-friendly wise. (But despite his smile, he liked the words little, as
-any shrewd man might have known by his eyes, and Will Canty was no
-fool.) "Come, cook, and boil us a great kettle of fish."</p>
-
-<p>The rumble of low voices changed to laughter and the cook boldly cried,
-"Yea, yea, master!"</p>
-
-<p>"For our much voyaging and many pains," cried the men, as they went
-about their work, "we have got a kettle of fish." And they laughed
-mightily, for though it was the very thing that before had made them
-grumble, now they saw it as a droll affair and made of it many jests,
-of which a few were good and more bad, after the manner of jests.</p>
-
-<p>As for the cook, he called his mate and bade him break out a drum of
-fish and set a kettle to boil, and cuffed him this way and that, till
-the poor fellow's ears were swollen.</p>
-
-<p>And the Old One said to Harry Malcolm, "Saw you not how deftly the
-fellow twisted out of the corner, and with a sly remark that no one can
-take amiss? Oh, he is a slippery dog and I am minded to cut his throat
-out of hand!"</p>
-
-<p>"Now, that would be very foolish, for where there's one of them,
-there's always two, and the one will toll the other on until there are
-two dogs by the heels instead of one."</p>
-
-<p>At that the Old One laughed harshly, and the two, who were after a
-left-handed fashion uncommonly congenial, went off well pleased with
-their conceit.</p>
-
-<p>Down in the hold the kettle boiled right merrily, and the cook swelled
-with pride that he had a mate to carry and fetch. He cuffed the poor
-fellow this way, and he cuffed him that. He threw a pan at him when the
-fire smoked worse than common, and he thrust a fistful of flour into
-his face and down his neck when he let the fire lag. He flung him his
-length on the floor for spilling a pint of water; and when in despair
-the lad fled for his life, the cook seized him by the hair and haled
-him back and put a long knife at his breast and swore to have his
-heart's blood. Oh, the cook was in a rare and merry mood, for he had
-drunk more sack than was good for him from the cask he had marked as
-his own; but as he had waxed exceeding gay and haughty, the sack had
-dulled his wits and he was drunker than he knew.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, thou pig! Thou son of a swine!" he yelled. "Ladle out the fish
-and choose of the best for the cabin. Yea, choose in abundance and
-summon the master's boy and bid him haste. And do thou bestir thyself
-and carry to the men." And with that, he fetched the poor fellow a blow
-on his head, which knocked him off his feet.</p>
-
-<p>The fellow ran to do the work and the cook, in vast satisfaction at
-having so well acquitted himself, sat down with a goblet of sack and
-tippled and nodded, and kept an ill-tempered eye on the master's boy
-and his own, as with shrewd fear of broken heads they scurried back and
-forth.</p>
-
-<p>"It is most wonderful excellent sack," quoth the cook, and with his
-sleeve he mopped his fiery bald head. "It was by a happy stroke I
-marked it for my own. Truly, I had rather be cook than master, for here
-I sit with mine eye upon the cabin stores, from which I can choose and
-eat at will, and the captain, nay, the Lord High Admiral of England,
-is himself none the wiser. Fish, sayest thou? Nay, fish is at best a
-poor man's food. I will have none of it." And thus he ran on foolishly,
-forgetting as he drank sack, that there was no one to hear him, not
-even his mate. "Truly, I am a wonderful excellent cook. I may in time
-become a captain. I may even become the governor of a plantation and
-take for a wife some handsome Spanish woman with a wonderful rich
-dowry. She must have an exceeding rich dowry if she will marry me,
-though. Yea, I am a wonderful excellent cook." And the more he drank
-the more foolish he became.</p>
-
-<p>After a while, he cocked his head upon one side; and quoth he, "I hear
-them calling and shouting! It seemeth they are singing huzza for me.
-I hear them coming down to do me honour. Truly, I am a most wonderful
-excellent cook and the fish hath pleased them well. Foolish ones that
-they are to eat it!"</p>
-
-<p>The silly fellow sat with his head on one side and smiled when they
-burst in upon him. "Hast come for more fish?" he cried. "Yonder stands
-the kettle. Nay, what's that? What's that thou sayest? Nay, fellow,
-th' art mad? Thou know'st not to whom thou speakest."</p>
-
-<p>"Fool! Knave! Scoundrel! Swine!" they yelled. "Oh, such a beating as
-thy fat carcase will get. Hear you not the uproar? Think you to cozzen
-us?"</p>
-
-<p>With that they seized him, two by the head and two by the feet, and
-dragged him to the ladder. They threw a rope about him and knotted it
-fast and tossed the ends to men at the hatch above, who hauled him,
-squealing and kicking like an old hog, up on deck. To the cabin they
-dragged him, with all the men shrieking curses at him and pelting him
-with chunks of fish, and in the cabin they stood him before the table
-where the Old One and Harry Malcolm sat, and very angry were they all.</p>
-
-<p>"Dog of a cook," said the Old One, "for a relish to conclude our meal,
-we shall see thee eat of this fish that the boy hath brought us." And
-he thrust before the cook a great dish. "Eat it, every shred, bones and
-all," said he, "or I'll have thee butchered and boiled in place of it."</p>
-
-<p>"Why, now," said the cook, somewhat sobered by rough handling and a
-trifle perplexed, but for all that still well pleased with himself, "as
-for the bones, they are liable to scrape a man's throat going down. I
-am reluctant to eat bones. But the meat is good. I rejoice to partake
-of it, for so diligently have I laboured to prepare it that I have
-denied myself, yea, though I hungered greatly."</p>
-
-<p>"Eat," said the Old One and widely he grinned.</p>
-
-<p>Looking suspiciously about him, for there was something in their manner
-that he failed to understand, the cook thrust his hand into the dish
-and took from it a great slice of fish, which he crammed into his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>"Eat," said the Old One, "eat, O thou jewel among cooks!"</p>
-
-<p>A curious look came over the cook's face and he raised his hand as if
-to take the fish out of his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, swallow it down," said the Old One. "Be not sparing. There is
-abundance in the dish. Yea, thou shalt stand there eating for a long
-time to come." And though he smiled, his look made it plain that he was
-in no trifling mood.</p>
-
-<p>The cook turned pale and choked and gasped. "Water!" he cried thickly,
-for his mouth was too full for easy speech.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, much drinking hath wrought havoc with thy wits. Eat on, eat on!"</p>
-
-<p>Prodigious were the gulps by which the cook succeeded at last in
-swallowing his huge mouthful, and great was his distress, for the salt
-in it nearly choked him. "Water, water!" he weakly cried. "Nay, temper
-thine heart with mercy, master! I beg for water&mdash;I beseech for water."</p>
-
-<p>"Eat on," said the Old One grimly.</p>
-
-<p>Then Harry Malcolm chuckled and the men in the door roared with
-laughter, but the cook plunked down on his fat knees and thrust out
-both his hands. "Nay, master, I cannot hold it down!"</p>
-
-<p>"Eat on, O jewel among cooks!"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, master&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Come, then, lads, and cram it down his hungry throat."</p>
-
-<p>Three of them seized him, and one, when he shut tight his mouth, thrust
-a knife between his teeth.</p>
-
-<p>"Blub-bub-blah!" he yelled. "I'll eat! I'll eat!"</p>
-
-<p>They let him go and he rose and ate. Time and again he gasped for water
-and they laughed; time and again he lagged and the Old One cried, "Eat
-on!" When at last he stood miserably in front of the empty dish, the
-Old One said, "For a day and a night shalt thou sit in bilboes with a
-dry throat, which will be a lesson to learn thee two things: first,
-before cooking a kettle of fish, do thou bear it well in mind to soak
-out the salt so that the fish be fit for food; and second, by way of
-common prudence, do thou sample for thyself the dishes that are cooked
-for the cabin."</p>
-
-<p>They haled him forward and locked the shackles on his feet and placed
-beside him a great dish of the fish, that whoever wished might pelt him
-with it; and there they left him to repent of his folly and forswear
-drunkenness and whimper for water.</p>
-
-<p>As the weary hours passed, the sun tormented him in his insufferable
-thirst; but nightfall in a measure brought relief and he nodded in the
-darkness and fell asleep.</p>
-
-<p>Waking, he would rub his head, which sadly throbbed and would seek by
-gulping to ease his parched throat; and sleeping again, he would dream
-of great buckets of clear water. The voices that he heard buzzed in his
-ears as if they were the droning of flies, and hunching himself down
-in his shackles at one end of the iron bar, he forgot the world and
-was forgotten, since his fat carcase lay inertly in a black shadow and
-there was nothing to make a man keep him in mind.</p>
-
-<p>He heard at last a voice saying, "But nevertheless it becomes you to
-walk lightly and carefully," and another replying, "I fear him not, for
-all his subtle ways. Much that goes on escapes him."</p>
-
-<p>He stirred uneasily, and opening his eyes, saw that there were two men
-leaning side by side against the forecastle.</p>
-
-<p>"In the matter of wit, you grant him less than his due," said the first
-speaker. "And in another matter you charge him with a heavier burden
-than he needs bear."</p>
-
-<p>The cook stirred and groaned and the first speaker chuckled, at which
-the cook's gorge rose from anger.</p>
-
-<p>"O jewel among cooks!" one of the two called softly, and the unhappy
-man knew by the voice that the speaker was Philip Marsham.</p>
-
-<p>Naming no names and talking in roundabout phrases as people do when
-they wish one to know their meaning and another not to, the two
-continued with no heed at all to the cook, whom they thought a mere
-drunken lout. And indeed, their undertones were scarcely audible; but
-anger sharpened the cook's ears and his wits, and he lay and ruminated
-over such chance sentences as he got.</p>
-
-<p>"It puzzled me from the first," said the other, "to see how easily you
-bore with your comrade of the road."</p>
-
-<p>"Why, he is a good soul in his way."</p>
-
-<p>The other gave a grunt of disgust.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, it is a wonder to me that a lad with your nice notions ever found
-his way to sea," Phil retorted.</p>
-
-<p>"And I might never have gone, had not Captain Francis Candle been my
-godfather."</p>
-
-<p>"As for me, I have seen both sides of life; and, but for a certain
-thing that happened, I might be well enough contented where I am."</p>
-
-<p>"And that?"</p>
-
-<p>Phil hesitated, for though they had talked freely, as young men will,
-the question searched a side of Phil's life to which as yet he had
-given no clue. "Why," said he, lowering his voice, "for one thing, I
-saw for the first time my own grandfather; and for another, I saw a
-certain old knight who quite won my fancy from such a man as a certain
-one we know. Come, let us stroll together." And as they walked the deck
-that night, arm in arm, Phil told his companion what his life had been
-and what it might have been, and mentioned, in passing, the girl at the
-inn.</p>
-
-<p>Left to his miseries and his thoughts, of which the first were little
-better company than the second, the woeful cook turned over and over
-in his fat head such fragments of their talk as he had succeeded in
-overhearing, and to say truth, he made little more out of it all than
-the speakers had intended. But his parched throat teased his wits to
-greater effort, and being come to such a state that he would have
-bartered his immortal soul for water, had chance offered, he bethought
-him of a plan by which, if luck held good, he might escape from his
-shackles.</p>
-
-<p>The moment for which he waited was a long time coming and he suffered
-a great variety of increasing miseries before it arrived; but when
-the watches changed, he saw among the men newly arrived on deck his
-erstwhile dearest friend, and somewhat reluctantly forgiving his dear
-friend for belabouring him over the head with a whole salt fish, the
-cook softly called the man by name.</p>
-
-<p>The fellow came snickering, which made it none the easier to bespeak
-his aid; but the cook nevertheless swallowed his wrath as well as with
-his dry throat he could, and whispered to the fellow that he must make
-haste and tell the master there was news to be imparted in secret.</p>
-
-<p>At this the fellow held up his hand with thumb thrust between first and
-second fingers.</p>
-
-<p>"Give me no fico," wailed the most excellent cook. "Nay, I have
-stumbled upon a black and hidden matter. Go thou, and in haste, and it
-will pay thee well."</p>
-
-<p>For a time they bickered in the dark, but there was in the cook's
-despair a sincerity that finally made the fellow believe the tale; and
-finding, upon stealing aft, that there was still a light in the great
-cabin, he mustered up his courage and knocked.</p>
-
-<p>"Enter," cried a hard voice.</p>
-
-<p>The fellow opened the door and peeped in and found the Old One sitting
-alone at the table. Glancing hastily about, and the more alarmed to
-meet the cold eye of Harry Malcolm who lay on the great bed in the
-corner of the cabin, he closed the door at his back and whispered, "He
-swears it's true&mdash;that there's foul work afoot. 'Tis the cook who hath
-told me&mdash;yea, and hath bade me tell you. He would say no more&mdash;the
-cook, I mean."</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, my good friend, our most excellent cook!" Meditating, the Old
-One looked the fellow up and down. "Here," said he, "strike off his
-shackles and send him in with the key." And he threw the fellow the key
-to the locks.</p>
-
-<p>After a while the cook came weakly in and shut the door behind him and,
-throwing the key on the table, fell into a chair.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah," said the Old One, "what is this tale I have heard news of?"</p>
-
-<p>"Water!" gasped the cook. For though he had managed, by pausing at the
-butt on his way, to drink nearly a quart, he had no mind the Old One
-should know of it.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One smiled. "Go, drink, if thy tale be worth it; but mind, if
-I deem thy tale not worth it, thou shalt pay with a drop of blood for
-every drop of water."</p>
-
-<p>The cook shot a doubting glance at the Old One, but went none the less,
-and came back wiping his lips.</p>
-
-<p>"Have at thy tale," said the Old One.</p>
-
-<p>There was a quaver in the cook's voice, for he was by no means sure of
-how great a tale he could make, and the master's face gave him small
-encouragement, for from the beginning of the tale to the end the Old
-One never altered his cold, cruel smile.</p>
-
-<p>"It was the boatswain and young Canty," he said.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah!"</p>
-
-<p>"They was leaning on the forecastle and walking the deck arm in arm and
-talking of one thing and another."</p>
-
-<p>"And what did they say?"</p>
-
-<p>"They talked about some one's slow wit&mdash;I could not make sure whose,
-for they scoffed at me bitterly&mdash;and Canty was bepuzzled by the
-boatswain's ways, and he wanted him to do something or other."</p>
-
-<p>"Go on." The Old One, grinning coldly, leaned back and watched the
-labouring cook, who wracked his few brains to make a worthier story.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, but I heard little else. Yet, said I, the master must know at all
-costs."</p>
-
-<p>"What a thick head is thine and how easily seen through and through!"
-The Old One laughed. "Think you all this is worth a second thought? I
-am of the mind to have you skinned and salted. But I forgive you, since
-I have a milkish heart that is easy moved to pity. Get you down to your
-berth and sleep."</p>
-
-<p>The cook departed in haste, but with a fleeting glance at Harry Malcolm
-whom he feared less only than the master. He was aware that for some
-reason he did not understand, his broken tale had served his purpose.</p>
-
-<p>When he had gone the Old One turned about. "You heard him. What think
-you?" said he.</p>
-
-<p>From the great bed in the corner, Harry Malcolm raised his head and
-laughed silently. "Our able cook was hard pressed for an excuse to get
-out of his ankle rings. Did you hear him slopping at the butt the first
-time passing? As for his tale, we know what we knew, and no more."</p>
-
-<p>"'Slow wits'! I wonder."</p>
-
-<p>"At Baracao we shall see," said Harry Malcolm. "Neither one nor a dozen
-can harm us before we raise land."</p>
-
-<p>"And after raising land, which by God's mercy will be soon now, we
-shall see whose wits will nick first when the edges crack together."</p>
-
-<p>The Old One stretched and yawned and Harry Malcolm softly laughed.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a><br />
-<small>A LONESOME LITTLE TOWN</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>A light seen in the middle watch gave warning of an unexpected
-landfall, and calling up the Old One, who had a store of knowledge
-gained by much cruising in those seas, they lay off and on until dawn,
-when they made out an island of the Bahamas. It seemed, since by their
-reckoning they were still a day's sail from land, that there was some
-small fault in their instruments; but to this they gave little heed,
-and which island it was and what occasioned the light they never knew,
-though some ventured one guess and some another as they bore past it
-and lifted isle beyond isle. For two days, with the Old One conning the
-ship, they worked their way among the islands, and thus at last they
-came to a deep bay set among hills, which offered a commodious and safe
-anchorage, notwithstanding that on the point that guarded the bay there
-was the wreck of a tall ship.</p>
-
-<p>In the shallop they had taken from the fishing pink, the Old One and
-Jacob, with four men to row them, went out to the wreck and returned
-well pleased with what they had found.</p>
-
-<p>"God is good to us," cried the Old One, perceiving that Harry Malcolm
-waited at the waist for their coming. "Though her foremast and mainmast
-be sprung, yet her mizzen is sound as a nut."</p>
-
-<p>"And is it to be fetched out of her unharmed?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, that it is! Come, Master Carpenter, haul out our broken old stump
-of a mizzen. By this time on the morrow our good Rose of Devon will
-carry in its place as stout a stick as man can wish. Faith, the ill
-fortune of them whose ship lies yonder shall serve us well."</p>
-
-<p>There was a great bustle in the old frigate, for work was to be done
-that needed many hands. Some went to the wreck to save masts and spars,
-and others, led by the one-eyed carpenter, toiled to haul out the
-stump. Boatswain Marsham and his mate laid ready ropes and canvas; and
-the most of the company being thus busied with one task or another,
-Martin and the cook caught a store of fresh fish, which the cook&mdash;who
-had now become a chastened, careful man&mdash;boiled for supper, while
-Martin went onshore for fruit that grew wild in abundance and for fresh
-water from a sandy spring. It was three days instead of one before the
-work was finished; but meanwhile there was fresh food and water aft and
-forward, and having spent at sea many weary weeks, the men rejoiced to
-pass time so pleasantly in a snug haven.</p>
-
-<p>Indeed, a man might have passed a long life in comfort on such an
-island, and there were many who cried yea, when Joseph Kirk declared
-himself for building a town there, to which they might return with a
-store of wives and wines, and from which they could sally forth when
-their supplies of either got low, and get for themselves others out of
-the King of Spain's ships and plantations. But the Old One laughed and
-cried nay. "I shall show you a town," said he, "in a land as fair as
-this, but with houses built and ready for us, and with gold piled up
-and waiting, and with great cellars of wine and warehouses filled with
-food."</p>
-
-<p>So they sailed from the island one morning at dawn and for a week they
-picked their way down the windward passages. At times they lay hidden
-in deep harbours of which the Old One knew the secret; and again they
-stood boldly out to sea and put behind them many leagues of their
-journey. And thus progressing, one night, as they worked south against
-a warm breeze scented with the odour of flowers, they sighted on the
-horizon a dark low land above which rose dimly the shape of a distant
-mountain.</p>
-
-<p>The men gathered about master and mate and Jacob, then Harry Malcolm
-went swarming up the rigging and from the maintopsail yard studied the
-dim bulk of the mountain. After a time he cried down to them, "Douse
-all lights and hold her on her course!"</p>
-
-<p>For an hour they stood toward the land, then Malcolm came down from
-aloft smiling, and there ran through the ship a great wave of talk.
-Though a man had never sailed those seas before, he would not have
-found the reason for their talk hard to guess, since there were few
-secrets on board. Time and distance had made less the grumbling
-occasioned by the disastrous brush with the Porcupine and by the
-littleness of the profit got from the pink, and they had warmed their
-hearts with the Old One's tales.</p>
-
-<p>Bearing to the west, the Rose of Devon skirted the dark shore for
-miles; but the master and mate were growing anxious lest dawn overtake
-them before they should reach the hiding-place they sought; and when
-they rounded a certain wooded point and sailed into a deep, secluded
-bay where a ship might lie for a year unseen,&mdash;which put an end to
-their fears,&mdash;they let go their anchors with all good will and furled
-their sails; and at break of day they kedged the ship into a cove that
-might have been a dock, so straight were the shores and so deep the
-water.</p>
-
-<p>"Mind you, Ned," or "Mind you, Hal, the night we landed on Hispaniola?"
-the men from the Blue Friggat were saying. And "'Twas thou at my side
-when we stole down through the palms and bottled the garrison in the
-little fort." And "Ah, what wine we got that night!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, and how drunk we got! So that Martin Barwick was of a mind to go
-fight a duel with the captain of the soldiers. And then they burst out
-and drove us all away, and there was an end of our taking towns for a
-long, long while."</p>
-
-<p>"I will have you know that I was no drunker than any man else," Martin
-snarled, and they laughed uproariously.</p>
-
-<p>"Come," cried another, "since we have laid our ship in her chosen
-berth, let us sleep while the idlers watch. We shall be off in the cool
-of the afternoon."</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, in the morning!"</p>
-
-<p>"Afternoon or morning matters little," said old Jacob thickly, in the
-corner where he sat watching all the men. "The hour is near when we
-shall lay in the hold a goodly cargo. I know well <i>this</i> town. We need
-only find two more such towns to get the money to keep us the rest of
-our lives like so many dukes, each of us in a great house in England,
-with a park full of deer, and the prettiest tavern wenches from all the
-country round to serve us in the kitchen."</p>
-
-<p>That day, while the men slept in such cool places as they could find,
-the cook and the carpenter stood watch; and a very good watch they
-kept, for they were prudent souls and feared the Old One and dared
-not steal a wink of sleep. But though there was much need that the men
-should sleep, there was small need of a watch, for the ship lay in that
-deep cove in the little round bay, with masses of palms on the high
-banks, which hid her from waterline to truck.</p>
-
-<p>At mid-afternoon, as the Old One had bade them, the cook and the
-carpenter called the men, who came tumbling up, quickly awake and
-breathing heavily, since there was work to be done ere another morning
-broke, and, like enough, blood to be spilled.</p>
-
-<p>From a chest of arms Harry Malcolm handed out muskets and pistols and
-pikes. "This for you," he said&mdash;"and this for you&mdash;and here's a tall
-gun for Paul Craig. Nay, curse not! Prayers, Paul, shall profit thee
-more than curses."</p>
-
-<p>"I tell ye what, I'll not carry this great heavy gun," quoth he, and
-turned a dull red from anger.</p>
-
-<p>"Blubububububub!" one cried, and all laughed.</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis lucky, Paul," retorted Harry Malcolm, "that Tom Jordan is an
-easy, merciful man, or there's more than one back would bear a merry
-pattern in welts." He took up another musket&mdash;cumbersome, unwieldy
-weapons they were, which a man must rest for firing&mdash;and handed it to
-another. "And this for you."</p>
-
-<p>Jacob was turning over and over on his palm powder from a newly opened
-barrel, and the Old One was leaning on the quarter-deck rail, whence
-he sleepily watched the small groups that were all the time gathering
-and parting. Will Canty, his face a little whiter than ordinary and his
-hand holding his firelock upright by the barrel, stood ill at ease by
-the forecastle. The boys lurked in corners, keeping as much as possible
-out of the way, but watching with wide eyes the many preparations.
-And indeed it was a rare sight, for the staunch old ship, her rigging
-restored and her many leaks stopped, lay in her little cove where a
-cool breeze stirred the ropes, and the afternoon sun shone through the
-palms brightly on the deck, and the men moved about bare-armed and
-stripped to their shirts.</p>
-
-<p>"It would save much labour," said the carpenter, "were we to use this
-fair breeze to go by sea."</p>
-
-<p>"True, carpenter, but a ship coming in from sea is as easy spied by
-night as by day, whereas a company of men descending from the hills by
-night will have the fort before the watchdogs bark. And who is there
-will grudge labour in such a cause?" The Old One looked about and the
-carpenter himself nodded assent.</p>
-
-<p>Only Paul Craig grumbled, and at him the others laughed as they ate and
-drank.</p>
-
-<p>They slept again till just before dawn, then, running a plank to the
-shore, they gathered under the palms, for there was need of a last
-council before leaving the ship.</p>
-
-<p>"We are forty men," said the Old One, "and forty men are all too few;
-but though it is little likely that any will stumble on the ship in our
-absence, it is a matter of only common prudence that we post a guard
-ere we go."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, a guard!" cried Paul Craig. "I, now, am a very watchful man."</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, but think, Paul, how great a meal thou can'st eat when thou hast
-climbed up hill and down with thy gun, and how much thou can'st drink.
-'Twould be no kindness to leave thee. We must leave some lithe, supple
-lad who hath no need for the tramp." And the Old One chuckled. "Come,
-Paul and Martin, you shall lead our van."</p>
-
-<p>Harry Malcolm met his eye, and he nodded.</p>
-
-<p>"I name to guard our ship," said he, "the cook and Joe Kirk and Will
-Canty. Do you, lads, load the swivel guns and keep always at hand two
-loaded muskets apiece. Fire not unless the need is urgent, and keep the
-ship with your lives, for who knows but the lives of us all are staked
-upon your watchfulness and courage? You, Harry, since you know best the
-road, shall lead, with Paul and Martin upon either hand; the rest shall
-follow, and Jacob and I will guard the rear." He turned to the three
-who were to stay. "If there is good news, I will send men to bring the
-ship round to the harbour where, God willing, we shall load her to the
-deck with yellow chinks. If bad news,&mdash;why, you may see us in one day,
-or three, or five,&mdash;or maybe never."</p>
-
-<p>He arched his brows and tossed his piece to his shoulder, and with
-Jacob at his side, he followed the others, who were already labouring
-under the weight of their weapons as they filed up the steep acclivity.
-The Old One and Jacob slowly climbed the wild, rough hill and paused
-until the marching column was out of hearing.</p>
-
-<p>"You are a strange man," said Jacob. "I would wring his neck without
-thought."</p>
-
-<p>"That were a mere brutal jest such as affordeth little joy," the Old
-One replied. "I will wind him in a tangle of his own working, then I
-will take the breath from his nostrils deliberately and he will know,
-when he dies, that I know what I know."</p>
-
-<p>"You are a strange man."</p>
-
-<p>"I can keep order among the gentlemen better than could any captain in
-the King's service; and such a game as this sharpens a man's wits. We
-shall see what we shall see."</p>
-
-<p>Jacob slipped away by himself and the Old One followed his men.</p>
-
-<p>All that morning, unseen and unsuspected, Jacob sat behind a rock
-within earshot of the ship. The palms shielded him and shaded him and
-he got himself into such a corner that no one could approach him from
-behind or see him without being seen. And all that morning he neither
-heard nor saw aught worthy of mark until about noon a voice in the ship
-cried out so that Jacob could plainly understand the words, "One should
-watch from land. Now a man on the hilltop could serve us well."</p>
-
-<p>To which a second voice replied, "Go thou up, Will, go thou up! We are
-of no mind to stir."</p>
-
-<p>There came the sound of steps on a plank, then a rattle of pebbles
-and a rustle of leaves; and Jacob rose quickly and followed at a safe
-distance a man who passed his corner on the way up the acclivity.</p>
-
-<p>Reaching the summit, of the hill, where he was safely out of sight from
-the ship, the fellow&mdash;and it was indeed Will Canty&mdash;searched the sea
-from horizon to horizon; but Jacob, hunting deliberately as was his
-manner, found a seat a great way off, yet so situated among the trees
-that he could watch without being seen. For an hour he sat thus in a
-niche in the rocks below and watched Will on the flat ledge above; then
-he saw him start up of a sudden and look around him very carefully and
-cautiously, and whip his shirt off his back and wave it in the air.</p>
-
-<p>For a good half-hour Will waved the shirt, stopping now and then to
-rest; but it seemed that nothing came of his waving, for with a sad
-face he put on his shirt and again sat down and presently he returned
-to the ship.</p>
-
-<p>Jacob dozed a while longer where he was, having seen all that; for he
-was a man who could put two and two together as well as another, and
-he had learned what he wished to know. Then he got up, and seeking out
-the place where the Old One and his men had passed, he followed after
-them at a serious, steady gait, which seemed not very fast yet which
-kept plodding so surely up hill and down hill and through gullies and
-over ledges and along beside the sea, that in two hours he had covered
-the distance the others, burdened with guns and pikes and swords, had
-covered in three; and before nightfall, following the marks they had
-left for him, he overtook them resting in a ravine.</p>
-
-<p>Night, which comes so suddenly in the tropics, was about to darken the
-world, when Jacob gave them a great start by walking silently in upon
-them as they sat talking in low voices, with their guns lying by their
-sides and their minds on the work that was before them. He nodded at
-the Old One, who knew well enough what his nod meant, and sat quietly
-down among them.</p>
-
-<p>There was but a small moon, and when at nearly midnight they bestirred
-themselves and ate the last of the sea bread they had brought, the
-light was dim. But their plans were laid and the hour was come and the
-Old One and Harry Malcolm and Jacob knew the ways they were to go.</p>
-
-<p>They were more than thirty, and they straggled out in a long line as
-they climbed the precipitous hill. But those ahead waited at the top
-for those behind and together, marching in close array, they crossed a
-ridge and came into sight of a little town that lay below them among
-hills and mountains.</p>
-
-<p>It was a dark and silent town, whose houses had a ghostly pallor in
-the faint light from the crescent moon, and it lay beside a harbour
-which shone like silver. There were no lights in the houses and in all
-the place nothing stirred; but in the harbour a ship lay anchored,
-concerning which they speculated in whispers.</p>
-
-<p>"The road lies yonder under the rock," said Harry Malcolm.</p>
-
-<p>"And one man has strayed," Jacob whispered. "I will fetch him."</p>
-
-<p>He stepped back the way they had come, and returned with Paul Craig who
-dragged his gun by the muzzle.</p>
-
-<p>The fellow's manner betrayed his cowardice and the Old One pushed the
-point of a knife against his breast. "If again you stray or loiter,"
-he whispered, "this blade will rip you open like a hog fat for the
-killing."</p>
-
-<p>Though the words were uttered very softly, others heard them, and
-Martin Barwick, whose courage was none of the staunchest, rubbed his
-throat and swallowed hard.</p>
-
-<p>"Gold without stint is ours for the taking," said the Old One.</p>
-
-<p>"I have a misliking of yonder ship."</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, she is but one more prize."</p>
-
-<p>They moved down the mountain path toward the town.</p>
-
-<p>"There are twelve houses," said Jacob. "Two men to a house leaves ten
-for the fort." In the dim light he had missed his count, for the men as
-they approached the gate of the village had crowded together.</p>
-
-<p>"No one sleeps in the fort," quoth Harry Malcolm in a low voice. "They
-go to the fort only when they are attacked by dogs of English or wicked
-pirates."</p>
-
-<p>Some one laughed softly.</p>
-
-<p>"Two men to a house," the Old One was saying. "Kill, plunder, and
-burn!" Then as they stood in the very gate a dog barked.</p>
-
-<p>They jumped at the sound, but higher by far did they jump when from the
-ship lying in the harbour there came a loud hail in Spanish.</p>
-
-<p>"Ha! The dogs are wakeful!" the Old One cried in double meaning, and
-with that he plunged forward through the shadows. Though for the most
-part he showed himself a shrewd, cautious man, he was not one to turn
-back when his blood was up; and quicker than thought he had raised his
-voice to a yell:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"Come, my hearts, and burn them in their beds!"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, nay!" cried Jacob. "Come back while there is yet time! They
-cannot yet know who we are or from whence we come. Another day, another
-month, will be best!" But they had gone. With a yell the Old One had
-led the way, and they had followed at his heels. Jacob was left alone
-in the dark, and being a rarely prudent man and of no mind to risk his
-neck lightly, he stayed where he was.</p>
-
-<p>As the Old One stormed the first house, there came a shot from the
-darkness and he gave a howl of pain and rage. Turning, Phil Marsham saw
-a stranger cross the road behind him, but he had no time to consider
-the matter, since the first cries had waked the town. A dozen men were
-exchanging musket-shots with the fort, wherein they were folly-blind,
-for their shots went wild in the dark and their guns took a long time
-loading; and the Old One, thinking to further the attack and not
-considering that the light would reveal their whereabouts and their
-weakness, struck fire to dry grass, which blazed up and caught wood,
-but went out, hissing, under a bucket of water from within a house.
-Here a Rose-of-Devon's man took the steel and died, and there another
-went down, hit by a musket-ball. In a lull in the firing&mdash;for the
-charges of their guns were soon spent&mdash;they heard plainly the sound of
-oars and saw that two boats were bringing men from the vessel in the
-harbour, and from the far side of the place others came charging with
-pikes and swords. In all truth, the town was aroused and the game was
-over, so they took to their heels and ran for their lives, since they
-were outnumbered and outfought and no other course was left them.</p>
-
-<p>All who escaped gathered on the hill, for though a man might wish in
-his heart to leave the Rose of Devon for ever, he could find no refuge
-in the nest of hornets they had stirred to fury, since in the eyes of
-the enemy one must appear as guilty as another. So, leaving ten of
-their number behind them, dead or wounded or captured, every man who
-could walk started back for the Rose of Devon with the thought to cheer
-him on, that after daybreak in all likelihood the howling pack would be
-at his heels.</p>
-
-<p>They bickered and wrangled and cursed, and one whispered to Philip
-Marsham that if they had an abler captain their luck would turn, which
-was a great folly and cost him a broken head.</p>
-
-<p>"That for thy prattle," the Old One cried, for he had been walking just
-behind. And with a club he struck the fellow a blow that sent him to
-the ground. Indeed, the Old One had intended to kill him, and had he
-not been so weary, he would doubtless have stayed to complete his work,
-for his temper was torn to rags.</p>
-
-<p>Uphill and down they went, through thickets and streams, over ledges
-and sandy slides, round dank old fallen logs and along firm beaches,
-back to their dark frigate, with their labour for their pains. And so,
-by broad daylight, weary and hungry and too angry for civil speech,
-they came to the Rose of Devon. The younkers trotted along, dog-tired,
-and the men tramped in as best they could. There were hard words on
-this side and hard words on that, and hands were clapped on knives for
-no cause at all.</p>
-
-<p>They thought it queer, when in the gray morning they came sliding down
-to the ship, with a rattle of pebbles and loose earth, that they found
-her so still, and only the cook on her deck, and himself in a cold
-sweat of fear.</p>
-
-<p>"I would have nought to do with it," he cried, and being still mindful
-of his thirsty hours in bilboes, he shook in his shoes lest they fix
-upon him a share of the blame for that which had occurred in their
-absence.</p>
-
-<p>"With what and whom would'st thou have nought to do?" the Old One
-demanded, and he showed a face that made the cook's teeth rattle.</p>
-
-<p>"With them&mdash;they've gone."</p>
-
-<p>"Who hath gone?"</p>
-
-<p>"Will Canty and Joe Kirk. They took the shallop and bread and beer."</p>
-
-<p>"It seems," said the Old One, and in a strangely quiet voice, "that the
-edge that is nicked is not Will Canty's. Is it thine, Jacob, or mine?"</p>
-
-<p>The cook thought that either he or the Old One had lost his wits, for
-he made no sense of the words; but Harry Malcolm and Jacob knew what
-was meant, and Philip Marsham made a sharp guess at it.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a><br />
-<small>THE HARBOUR OF REFUGE</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>It was up anchor and away, for they needs must flee ere the hunters
-find them. They stood along the coast with a light breeze in the early
-morning, when the sun was rising over the sea and tipping with gold
-the branches of the dark palms; but the Rose of Devon was a hawk with
-clipped wings.</p>
-
-<p>A company of twenty-nine or thirty men in a staunch ship with a
-goodly number of brass cannon and with powder and balls in abundance
-(which provident merchants had bought to defend their venture against
-pirates!) might have done very well on a merchant voyage or fishing. If
-there are not too many to share in the adventure, a man can earn his
-wages by the one; or if he would go to the banks of Newfoundland or to
-Massachusetts Bay, his lay of a fishing voyage will doubtless bring
-him enough golden chinks to drink in strong ale or sack the health of
-every fair maiden of Plymouth ere he must be off to fill his pockets
-anew. Though the times be ever so hard, he is a feckless sailor who
-cannot earn in such a company the price of drinking the three outs.
-But to work a ship and lay aboard a rich prize, with perhaps need to
-show heels to a King's cruiser or to fight her, is quite another game;
-and the Old One and Harry Malcolm, who had their full share of the
-ill-temper that prevailed throughout the ship, cursed their fortune,
-each in his own way, and wrangled together and quarrelled with the men.</p>
-
-<p>And indeed, among all the men of the Rose of Devon there were only two
-or three who that morning remained unperturbed by their misadventures
-of the night. One was Jacob, who sat in this corner or that and eyed
-all comers coldly and as if from a distance. A second was Philip
-Marsham, who did not, like Jacob, appear to lose his warmer interest in
-the ship and her company, but whose interest had been always less as
-for himself alone.</p>
-
-<p>Meeting in groups of three or five, the men ripped out oaths and told
-of how one captain or another had once taken a ship or a town with
-vast bloodshed and plunder, and thus they stormed about the deck at
-intervals until an hour after sunrise, when Phil from the forecastle
-and Old Jacob from his corner under the quarter-deck, having observed
-them for some time putting their heads together and conversing in
-undertones, heard them crying out, "Yea, yea! Go on, go on! We are
-all with you!" Four of the men then started through the steerage room
-to the great cabin and the rest gathered in a sullen half circle just
-under the quarter-deck.</p>
-
-<p>Jacob raised his head and listened; his face was very thoughtful and
-his small mouth was puckered tight. At the sounds that issued from the
-cabin, Phil himself drew nearer.</p>
-
-<p>"Well," cried the Old One in a voice that seemed as full of wonder as
-of wrath,&mdash;they heard him plainly,&mdash;"what in the Devil's name mean ye
-by this?"</p>
-
-<p>"We ha' lost a dozen men and our shallop by this foolish march, and
-from this rich town of which you have promised much we have got only
-blows and balls for our labour." The speaker's voice was loud and
-harsh, and he larded his speech with such oaths and obscene bywords
-as are not fit for printing. "We are of a mind to change captains. You
-shall go forward and Paul Craig shall come aft. Speak up, Paul! Tell
-your tale of no marching to wear out a man's feet&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>There came a string of oaths in the Old One's voice and a wild stamping
-and crashing; then out they burst, jostling one another in their haste,
-and after them the Old One with a clubbed musket.</p>
-
-<p>He subdued his fury, when he faced the ring of sullen men, as if he had
-taken it with his hands and pushed it down. But they feared him none
-the less, and perhaps the more. A man looking at him must perceive that
-his mind was keen and subtle, which made his quietness, when he was
-angry, more terrible than a great show of wrath.</p>
-
-<p>"I have sailed before with mad, fickle crews," said he; "yea, once
-with a crew so mad that it would send a gentleman post unto the King
-with a petition of grievances because a King's ship had chased us from
-the South Foreland to the Lizard. But never saw I a more mad crew than
-this, which is enough to give a man a grievous affliction of the colic
-and stone by the very excess of its madness."</p>
-
-<p>"As for madness," cried a man who stood at a safe distance behind the
-rest, "I charge thee with worse than madness. We have lost two fights
-and many men and have got to show for it&mdash;a kettle of fish."</p>
-
-<p>Some laughed, but more muttered angrily.</p>
-
-<p>"Why&mdash;we have had our ill fortunes. But what gentlemen of the sea have
-not? Come, make an end of this talk. Come out, you who spoke, and let
-us consider the matter. Nay? He will not come, though by his speech he
-is a bold man?"</p>
-
-<p>Again some of them laughed, but in a mean way, for he had cowed them by
-his show of violence and they feared more than ever that subtle spirit
-which over-leaped their understanding.</p>
-
-<p>"Listen, then, my hearts of gold: we will come about and sail back.
-We will lie tonight by the very town that last night we stormed. We
-will seek it out as a harbour of refuge. We will tell them a tale of
-meeting pirates who captured our shallop and part of our men. We will
-give them such a story that they will think we have met the very men
-they themselves last night beat off, and will welcome us with open arms
-to succour our distress. Who knows but that we can then take them by
-assault? Or if for the time they are too strong for us, we will mark
-well the approaches and the defenses, and some night we will again come
-back."</p>
-
-<p>The idea caught their fancy, and though a few cried nay and whispered
-that it was the sheerest madness yet, more cried yea and argued there
-was little risk, for if worst should come to worst, they could turn
-tail and run as run they had before. As they talked, they forgot their
-many woes and whispered about that none but the Old One would ever
-think of such a scheme.</p>
-
-<p>Harry Malcolm and the Old One went off by themselves and put their
-heads together and conversed secretly, and throughout the ship there
-was a great buzz of voices. Only Jacob, who sat in his corner and
-watched now one and now another, and Philip Marsham, who watched Jacob,
-kept silence amidst the hubble-bubble.</p>
-
-<p>So they wore ship, and returning along the palm-grown shores, came
-again at the end of the afternoon into sight of the flat mountain they
-had seen first by night; and though the wind fell away at times until
-the sails hung in listless folds, they gathered speed with the evening
-breeze and came at nightfall into a fine landlocked harbour with the
-town at its head, where there were lights shining from the houses and a
-ship still lying at anchor.</p>
-
-<p>Upon their coming there was a great stir in the town. They saw lights
-moving and heard across the water voices calling; but though the men
-of the Rose of Devon stood by their guns, ready to lift the ports at a
-word and run out their pieces, they laughed in their sleeves at their
-own audacity whereby they hoped greatly to enrich their coffers.</p>
-
-<p>Then one in the fort hailed them in Spanish, and while the Old One
-made answer in the same tongue, those who understood it whispered to
-the rest that he was giving the men in the fort a sad tale of how the
-Rose of Devon had fallen in with a band of sailors of fortune who had
-killed part of her men and would have killed them all had not the Old
-One himself by a bold and clever stroke eluded them. The Old One and
-the man in the fort flung questions and answers back and forth; and as
-they talked, the men at the guns relaxed and softly laughed, and Martin
-whispered to Philip Marsham, "Yea, they are telling of a band of roving
-Englishmen who last night singed their very whiskers; and being clever
-men and learning that them whom we ourselves have met and fought were
-lawless English dogs, they perceive we needs have met the very rascals
-that made them so much trouble." Again Martin listened, then slapped
-his thigh. "They are sending us boats!" he exclaimed. "Though they
-perceive we are English, it seemeth they bear an Englishman no ill will
-because he is English. Truly, a fool shall be known by his folly!"</p>
-
-<p>Most of the men were elated, but old Jacob watched and said nought. His
-black, bright eyes and his nose, which came out in a broad curve, made
-him look like an old, wise rat.</p>
-
-<p>As the boats came over the dark water, with the soft splash of oars,
-there was hurried talking on the quarter-deck, then the Old One came
-swiftly. "Good boatswain," said he, "these foolish fellows have bade us
-ashore to break bread with them and share a bottle of wine. Now I am
-of a mind to go, and Harry Malcolm is of a mind to bear me company. We
-will take twelve men and so arrange it that they shall not surprise us.
-Yea, I am too old a dog to be caught by tricks. It may be we can strike
-them again tonight, and a telling blow. It may be not. But do you and
-Jacob keep watch on board, with every man at his station in case of
-need."</p>
-
-<p>So the Rose of Devon let go her anchors and swung with the tide a
-cable's length from the unknown ship, which lay dark and silent and
-apparently deserted.</p>
-
-<p>The strange boats came up in the shadow of the poop and the Old One and
-Harry, with their men mustered about them, exchanged greetings with the
-oarsmen below, in rough English and in rougher Spanish, as each side
-strove to outdo the other in civility.</p>
-
-<p>The men&mdash;heavily armed&mdash;slid down into the boats and the Old One
-smiled as he watched them go, for he was himself well pleased with
-the escapade. Such harebrained adventures were his bread of life. He
-followed the men, the cabin lanthorn in his hand, and after him came
-Harry Malcolm, as cool as a man could desire, and watched very sharply
-all that went on while the boats rowed slowly away toward the land.</p>
-
-<p>Then Jacob came out of his corner and spoke to Phil. "I will watch
-first," said he. "The cook hath laid a fine supper on the cabin table.
-Go you down and eat your fill, then come up and keep the deck and I
-will go down and eat in my turn."</p>
-
-<p>At something in the man's manner, which puzzled him, Phil hesitated;
-but the thought was friendly, and he said, "I will not be long."</p>
-
-<p>"Do not hurry."</p>
-
-<p>When Phil turned away, old Jacob cleared his throat.</p>
-
-<p>"Boatswain&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea?"</p>
-
-<p>"Do not hurry."</p>
-
-<p>As Phil sat at the table in the great cabin, which was so dark that he
-could scarcely see the plate in front of him (although he ate with no
-less eagerness because of the darkness), the planks and timbers and
-transoms and benches were merged into an indiscriminate background
-of olive-black, and there hung before him by chance a mirror on the
-forward bulkhead, in which the reflection of the yellow sky threw into
-sharp outline the gallery door at his back. Having no means at hand for
-striking a light, he was hungrily eating and paying little heed to his
-surroundings, when in the mirror before his eyes, against the yellow
-western sky the silhouette of a head wearing a sweeping hat appeared
-over the gallery rail.</p>
-
-<p>There was not the faintest noise, and no slightest motion of the ship
-was perceptible in the brown stillness of the evening. The head, darkly
-silhouetted, appeared in the mirror as if it were a thing not of this
-earth, and immediately, for he was one who always kept his wits about
-him, Phil slipped silently off the bench, and letting himself down
-flat on the deck, slid back into the darkest corner of all, which lay
-to the starboard of the gallery door. There, without a sound, he rose
-to his feet.</p>
-
-<p>The black silhouette reflected in the mirror grew larger until it
-nearly blocked the reflection of the door, then a board in the gallery
-gently creaked and Phil knew that the man, whoever he was, was coming
-into the cabin. Presently in the subdued light he could dimly see the
-man himself, who stood by the table with his back toward Phil and
-glanced about the cabin from one side to the other. Knowing only that
-he was a stranger and therefore had no right to enter the great cabin
-of the Rose of Devon, Phil had it in mind to jump and seize him from
-behind, for so far as he could appraise the man's figure, the two were
-a fair match in weight and height. But when Phil was gathering himself
-for the leap, he saw in the mirror the reflection of a second head, and
-then of a third.</p>
-
-<p>Again the gallery creaked, for the newcomers, like the first, were
-on their way into the cabin. By the door they stood for a moment
-listening, and in the silence Phil heard a boat gently bumping against
-the side of the ship. He was first of a mind, naturally, to cry an
-alarm; but were he to call for help, he would learn no more of their
-errand. They drew together beside the table and conversed in whispers
-of which Phil could distinguish nothing, although he was near enough
-to reach out his hand and seize hold of the curls and brave hat of the
-nearest of them. To attack them single-handed were an act of plain
-folly, for they wore swords and doubtless other weapons; but when he
-perceived that the first had got out flint and steel, he knew that they
-must soon discover him.</p>
-
-<p>"Whence and for what have you come?" he said in a low voice.</p>
-
-<p>They turned quickly but with admirable composure: there were never seen
-three calmer men. The first struck light to a slow match and held over
-it the wick of a candle drawn from his pocket, upon which the flame
-took hold and blazed up, throwing curious shadows into the corner of
-the cabin and half revealing the hangings and weapons. The man raised
-the candle and the three drew close about Phil and looked at him
-steadily.</p>
-
-<p>"So a watch is set in the cabin, I perceive," the man holding the
-candle said with a quiet, ironical smile.</p>
-
-<p>By mien and speech Phil knew upon the instant that they were Englishmen
-and it took no great discernment to see that they were gentlemen and
-men of authority.</p>
-
-<p>They pressed closer about him.</p>
-
-<p>"Whence and for what have you come?" he repeated.</p>
-
-<p>They made no reply but stood in the brown light, holding high their
-candle and looking him hard in the face.</p>
-
-<p>Again he heard the boat bumping against the side of the ship and
-now the murmur of the wind aloft. Far away he heard a faint sound
-of calling which was growing constantly louder. The three exchanged
-glances and whispering to one another, moved toward the gallery; but as
-they started to go, the one turned back and held the candle to Phil's
-face.</p>
-
-<p>"Of this be assured, my fine fellow," said he, "I shall know you well
-if ever I see you again."</p>
-
-<p>Phil was of a mind to call after them, to pursue them, to flee with
-them; but as it is easy to understand, there were strong reasons
-for his staying where he was, and there had been little welcome in
-their faces. He stood for a moment by the table and noticed that the
-sky in the mirror had turned from a clear olive to a deep gray and
-that the lines of the door and the gallery rail had lost their sharp
-decisiveness and had blurred into the dark background. Then he darted
-out of the cabin through the steerage and called sharply, "Jacob!
-Jacob!"</p>
-
-<p>The men watching at the guns stirred in suppressed excitement and
-turned from whispering uneasily.</p>
-
-<p>"There are strange sounds yonder, boatswain," called one.</p>
-
-<p>"And shall we knock out the ports and loose the tacklings?" another
-asked.</p>
-
-<p>"Be still! Jacob, Jacob!" Phil cried, running up on the quarter-deck.</p>
-
-<p>There was no one on the quarter-deck; there was no one on the poop. The
-wind was blowing up into a fair breeze and small waves were licking
-against the dark sides of the Rose of Devon. But the after decks were
-deserted.</p>
-
-<p>"Jacob!" Phil cried once more, and sent his voice out far across the
-water. But there was still no answer. Jacob had gone.</p>
-
-<p>For a moment the lad stood by the rail and intently listened. The
-calling on shore had ceased, but a boat was rowing out from the town
-and the beat of oars was quick and irregular. Further, to swell his
-anxiety, there was a great bustle on board the unknown ship, which had
-been lying hitherto with no sign of human life.</p>
-
-<p>Then Philip Marsham took the fate of the Rose of Devon in his hands and
-leaned out over the quarter-deck gun. "Holla, there!" he called, but
-not loudly, "Let the younkers lay quietly aloft and lie ready on the
-yards to let the sails fall at a word."</p>
-
-<p>Seeming encouraged and reassured by a summons to action, the younger
-men went swarming up the rigging, and as quietly as one could wish; but
-even the low sound of their subdued voices drummed loud in the ears of
-the lad on the quarter-deck.</p>
-
-<p>Jacob had gone! The boatswain, for one, remembered old tales of rats
-leaving ships of ill fortune.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a><br />
-<small>WILL CANTY</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>They saw a boat coming a long way off, with her men rowing furiously,
-but by that time there were all manner of sounds on the shore whence
-the boat had launched forth. Shouts and yells in English and Spanish,
-with ever the booming of guns, echoed across the harbour. Beacons
-flamed up and for a while danced fitfully, only to die away when those
-who tended the fires left them unwatched and with flaming brands joined
-in the cry; and in the wake of the furiously rowing boat came others
-that strove with a great thresh of oars to overhaul the fugitive.</p>
-
-<p>The activity and tumult were very small and faint under the bright
-stars in that harbour girdled about with palms. Though the rugged
-slopes of wild mountains, rising like escarpments above the harbour,
-by day completely dwarfed it, yet the stars made the mountains seem by
-night mere pigmy hills, and even the many sounds, which a great echoing
-redoubled, seemed smaller and fainter in the presence of the vast
-spaces that such a night suggests.</p>
-
-<p>Although the men in the foremost boat rowed out of time and clumsily,
-their fierce efforts kept them their lead, and they were still far in
-advance of their pursuers when they tossed up their oars and crouched
-panting on the thwarts in the shadow of the ship.</p>
-
-<p>"Ropes, you fools!" the Old One called. "Cast us ropes! Ropes! Bind
-fast this bird we've caught and trice him up! Now, my hearts, swing him
-aloft&mdash;there he swings and up he goes! Well done! I'll keep him though
-I risk my neck in doing it. Make fast a rope at bow and at stern! Good!
-Every man for himself! Up, thou! And thou! Up go we all! Come, tally on
-and hoist the boat on board! And the men are aloft? Well done, Jacob!
-Haul up the anchor and let fall the courses!"</p>
-
-<p>It was plain from their manner that those who came swarming up
-the sides had a story to tell, but there was little time then for
-story-telling. The pursuing boats lifted their oars and swung at a
-distance with the tide, since it was plain for all to see that they
-were too late to overhaul the fugitives. Although on board the stranger
-ship there were signs and sounds of warlike activity, she too refrained
-from aggression; and the Old One, having no mind to traffic with them
-further, paced the deck with a rumble of oaths and drove the men alow
-and aloft to make sail and be gone.</p>
-
-<p>It was "Haul, you swine!"</p>
-
-<p>And "Heave, you drunken dogs!"</p>
-
-<p>And "Slacken off the weather braces! Leap for your lives!"</p>
-
-<p>And "Haul, there, haul! A touch of the rope's end, boatswain, to stir
-their spirits!"</p>
-
-<p>And "Come, clear the main topsail! Up aloft to the topsail yard, young
-men! A knife, you dog, a knife! Slash the gaskets clear! A touch of the
-helm, there! Harder! Harder! There she holds! Steady!"</p>
-
-<p>Then Harry Malcolm called from the quarter-deck in his quiet, quick
-voice, "The swivel gun is loaden, Tom. I'll chance a shot upon the
-advantage."</p>
-
-<p>"Good, say I!" quoth the Old One. "And if the first shot prove ill,
-amend it with a second."</p>
-
-<p>They saw moving on the forecastle the light of a match, and after such
-brief space of time as a spark takes to go from brace-ring to touchhole
-the gun, which was charged with small shot for sweeping the deck if an
-enemy should board the ship, showered the distant boats with metal.
-They saw by the splashing that the charge had carried well and that
-Malcolm's aim was true, and a yell and a volley of curses told them as
-well as did the splash, which was dimly seen by starlight, that the
-shot had scored a hit.</p>
-
-<p>While a sailor sponged the gun, Harry Malcolm gave a shog to the full
-ladle of powder, and keeping his body clear of the muzzle, put the
-ladle home to the chamber, where he turned it till his thumb on the
-ladle-staff was down, and gave it a shake to clear out the powder, and
-haled it forth again. Then with the rammer he put the powder home and
-drove after it a good wad and in anger and haste called for a shot.</p>
-
-<p>Then the Old One laughed through his teeth. "Go thou down, Jacob,"
-cried he, "and give them a ball from the stern chaser. To sink one of
-those water snakes, now, would be a message worthy of our parting.
-Jacob! Jacob, I say!"</p>
-
-<p>There was no answer from old Jacob.</p>
-
-<p>It was Boatswain Marsham who cried back, "He hath gone."</p>
-
-<p>"Gone?" quoth the Old One. His face, as the starlight revealed it, was
-not for the reading, but despite him there was something in his voice
-that caught the attention of the men.</p>
-
-<p>"Gone?" the Old One repeated, and leaned down in the darkness. The
-shadows quite concealed his face when he was bent over so far that no
-light from above could fall on it, but he raised his hand and beckoned
-to the boatswain in a way there was no mistaking.</p>
-
-<p>In response to the summons of the long forefinger, Phil climbed the
-ladder to his side.</p>
-
-<p>"You say he hath gone," the Old One quietly repeated. "When did he go?"</p>
-
-<p>"I do not know. He kept the deck when I went below for supper."</p>
-
-<p>"How did he go?"</p>
-
-<p>"Nor do I know that. But three men came into the cabin by way of the
-gallery while I was there&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Three men, say you? Speak on." The Old One leaned back and folded his
-arms, and though he smiled, he listened very carefully to the story the
-boatswain told.</p>
-
-<p>"And when you came on deck he was gone." The Old One tapped the rail.
-"You have booklearning. Can you navigate a ship?"</p>
-
-<p>"I can."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, it may well be that now we shall have need of such learning.
-It was an odd day when you and I met beside the road. I shall not
-soon forget that ranting fool with the book, who was as good as a
-bear-baiting to while away an afternoon when time hung heavy. Oft ha'
-we left him fallen at the crest, in the old days when he dwelt in
-Bideford, but Jacob saw no sport in it, nor could he abide the fellow."
-The Old One looked Phil frankly in the eye and smiled. "In faith, I
-had a rare game that day with Martin, whose wits are but a slubbering
-matter at best. But that's all done and away with. And Jacob hath gone!
-Let him go. Betide it what may, there is one score I shall settle
-before my hour comes. Go forward, boatswain, and bear a sharp watch at
-sea, and mind you come not abaft the mainmast until I give you leave."</p>
-
-<p>The Old One spoke again when Phil was on the ladder. "Mind you,
-boatswain: come not abaft the mainmast until I give you leave. I bear
-you nought but love, but I will have you know that in what I have to do
-I will brook no interruption."</p>
-
-<p>Though Tom Jordan had spoken him kindly, the lad was not so blunt of
-wit that he failed to detect suspicion in the man's manner. He stopped
-by the forecastle, and looking back saw that the Old One was giving
-the helmsman orders, for the ship had cleared the harbour, to all
-appearances unpursued, and was again bearing up the coast. The Old One
-then came down from the quarter-deck, and, having spoken to several of
-the men in turn, called, "Come, Martin; come, Paul, bring the fellow
-in."</p>
-
-<p>And with that, he went into the great cabin, where they heard him
-speaking to Harry Malcolm.</p>
-
-<p>As for Martin Barwick and Paul Craig, they went over to where the one
-had all this time been lying whom they had trussed up in ropes and
-hoisted on board. All the time he had been in the ship he had neither
-moved nor spoken, nor did he speak now as they picked him up, one at
-his head and one at his feet, and carried him into the cabin. The door
-shut and for a long time there was silence.</p>
-
-<p>There were some to whom the matter was a mystery, and the boatswain was
-among them; but the whispering and nodding showed that more knew the
-secret than were ignorant of it. The ship thrust her nose into a heavy
-swell and pitched until her yards knocked on the masts; the breeze
-blew up and whipped the tops off the waves and showered the decks with
-spray; the sky darkened with clouds and threatened rain. But in the
-ship there was such a deep silence as stifles a man, which endured and
-seemed&mdash;were it possible&mdash;to grow minute by minute more intense until a
-low cry burst from the cabin.</p>
-
-<p>The men sitting here and there on deck stirred and looked at one
-another; but Philip Marsham leaped to his feet.</p>
-
-<p>"Sit down, lad," said the carpenter.</p>
-
-<p>"Drop your hand!"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, it is better that I keep my hand on your arm."</p>
-
-<p>"Drop your hand! Hinder me not!"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, I am obeying orders."</p>
-
-<p>There came a second cry from the cabin, and Phil laid his free hand on
-his dirk.</p>
-
-<p>"Have care, boatswain, lest thy folly cost thee dear. There are others
-set to watch the deck as well as I."</p>
-
-<p>And now three men who had been sitting by the mainmast rose. They were
-looking toward Phil and the carpenter, and one of them slowly walked
-thither.</p>
-
-<p>Though Philip Marsham had no fear of hard fighting, neither was he an
-arrant fool, and instantly he perceived that he was one man against
-many under circumstances that doubled the odds. His heart beat fast and
-a cold sweat sprang out on his forehead.</p>
-
-<p>"What are they doing to him?" he demanded.</p>
-
-<p>"Nothing that he hath not richly earned," said the man who had come
-near the two.</p>
-
-<p>Scarcely conscious of his own thought, Phil glanced toward the dark and
-distant shore; but, slight though his motion, the carpenter's one eye
-saw it and his none too nimble wit understood it.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay," said he, "it is a mad conceit."</p>
-
-<p>The carpenter thrust his fingers through his beard, and, being a kindly
-soul in his own way and having a liking for the boatswain, he wished
-himself rid of his responsibilities. But since there was no escape from
-the situation he drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders to make
-the best of it. "I heard of a man once, when I was a little lad," he
-said, "who was cast ashore on the main, in Mexico or some such place.
-Miles Philips was his name and the manner of his suffering at the hands
-of the Indians and the Spaniards may serve as a warning. For they flung
-him into prison where he was like to have starved; and they tortured
-him in the Inquisition where he was like to have perished miserably;
-and many of his companions they beat and killed or sent to the galleys;
-and himself and certain others they sold for slaves. So grievous was
-his suffering, he was nigh death when he heard news of Sir Francis
-Drake being in those seas and ran away to join him. Yet again they
-caught him&mdash;caught this Miles Philips and clapped him into prison with
-a great pair of bolts on his legs; and yet once more did he escape, for
-God willed it, and filed off his irons and got him away and so betook
-him back to England after such further suffering from the Indians and
-the mosquitoes and the Spaniards and the dogs of the Inquisition as few
-men have lived to tell the tale of. All this, I have heard from an old
-man who knew him, is told in Master Hakluyt's book, where any scholar
-of reading may find it for himself. Though not a man of reading, yet
-have I taken it to heart to beware of straying from a ship into a
-strange land."</p>
-
-<p>Of all the fellow had said Philip Marsham had heard no more than half,
-for the cry that had twice sounded still rang in his ears, although
-since it had died away the second time there was only silence on the
-deck save for the carpenter's rambling talk. The lad's mind leaped
-nimbly from one occurrence to another in search for an explanation of
-the cry.</p>
-
-<p>"Tell me," said he, "what happened on shore?"</p>
-
-<p>At this the carpenter laughed, pleased with believing he had got the
-boatswain's thoughts off the affair of the moment. "Why, little enough.
-They would have persuaded us to leave our weapons at the door, but the
-Old One was too wise a horse to be caught by the rattle of oats. And
-whilst he was ducking and smiling and waving hands with the Spaniards,
-I myself, my ears being keen, heard one cry in Spanish, for I have a
-proper understanding of Spanish which I got by many pains and much
-listening&mdash;as I was saying, I heard one cry in Spanish, 'Yea, that is
-he.' And said I to myself, 'Now Heaven keep us! Where have I heard
-that voice?' And then it came upon me and I cried in English, 'Who of
-us knew the dog, Will Canty, could talk Spanish?' Whereat the Old One,
-hearing me, turned and caught a glimpse of Will in the darkness. You
-know his way&mdash;a shrewd blade, but hot-tempered. 'There,' cries he, 'is
-my man! Seize him!' And with that I, being nearest, made a leap. And
-they, being at the moment all oil to soothe our feelings and hood our
-eyes, were off their guard. So the Old One, who likely enough had heard
-for himself Will Canty's saying, since he too hath a curious knowledge
-of Spanish, cries, 'Back to the boat, my lads!' For seest thou, if Will
-Canty was pointing out this one or that, there was treacherous work in
-the wind. So down through them we rushed, all together, bearing Will
-with us by the suddenness and audacity of our act, and so away in a
-boat before they knew our thought."</p>
-
-<p>"And who were the other Englishmen?"</p>
-
-<p>The carpenter gave the lad a blank look. "Why, there were none."</p>
-
-<p>Rising, Phil paced the deck while the carpenter and the others watched
-him. Some scowled and whispered suspicions, and others denied them,
-until Phil himself heard one crying, "Nay, nay, he's a true lad. 'Tis
-only he hath a liking for the fellow."</p>
-
-<p>The carpenter neither smiled nor frowned, for though he knew no
-loyalty deeper than his selfish interests, and though he felt no qualm
-regarding that which was going on in the cabin (since he had little
-love for the poor wretch who was the victim), he had a very kindly
-feeling toward those who got his liking; and it sorely troubled him
-that Philip Marsham should suffer thus, though it were at second hand.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, lad," said he, "sit down here and take comfort in the fine
-night."</p>
-
-<p>Laying his elbows on the rail, Phil thrust his hands through his hair
-and bit his two lips and stared at the distant shore of Cuba. He feared
-neither Indians nor insects nor the Inquisition. There were other
-things, to his mind, more fearful than these.</p>
-
-<p>The gasping sound that then came from the cabin was one thing more than
-he could abide. He turned with the drawn dirk in his hand, but the
-carpenter was on him from behind, whispering, "Come, lad, come!" And
-because he could not but be aware of the carpenter's honest good will,
-he could not bring himself to use the dirk, yet only by using the dirk
-could he have got out of the long arms that held him fast. For a moment
-they swayed back and forth; then, when others were hurrying to aid the
-carpenter, the door of the great cabin opened.</p>
-
-<p>A rumble of laughter issued, then the Old One's voice, "Lay him here
-in the steerage and shackle him fast to the mizzen. He may well be
-thankful that I am a merciful man."</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a><br />
-<small>TOM JORDAN'S MERCY</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>They anchored that noon in a great bay surrounded by forests and
-mountains, which formed a harbour wherein a thousand sail of tall ships
-might have lain. Through the long afternoon, while the Rose of Devon
-swung at her anchor, the wind stirred the palms and a wild stream,
-plunging in a succession of falls down a mountainside, shone like a
-silver thread. But Paul Craig sat guard over Will Canty, who lay in the
-steerage chained to the mizzenmast, and there was no chance for any
-one of the men to speak with Will. And on deck the carpenter measured
-and sawed and planed for his purpose; and having shaped his stock he
-wrought a coffin.</p>
-
-<p>First he threw nails in a little heap on the deck, then, kneeling,
-he drove them home into the planed boards. It was rap-rap-rap, and
-rap-rap-rap. The noise went through the ship, while the men looked at
-one another; and some chuckled and said that the Old One was a rare
-bird; but the Old One, coming out of the great cabin without so much
-as a glance at the lad who lay chained to the mast, stood a long time
-beside the carpenter. He kept a grave face while he watched him work,
-and very serious he looked when he turned away and came and stood
-beside Philip Marsham.</p>
-
-<p>"There are men that would slit the fellow's throat," he said, "or burn
-him at stake, or flay him alive; but I have a tender heart and am by
-nature merciful. Though he broke faith and dipped his hands in black
-treachery, I bear him no ill will. I must needs twist his thumbs to
-wring his secrets out of him and I can no longer keep him about me;
-yet, as I have said, I bear him no ill will. Saw you ever a finer
-coffin than the one I have ordered made for him?"</p>
-
-<p>What could a man reply? Although there had been complaining and revolt
-before, the Old One again held the ship in the palm of his hand, for
-they feared his irony more than his anger.</p>
-
-<p>Darkness came and they lowered the coffin into the boat, whither man
-after man slid down.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, boatswain," said the Old One, in a quiet, solemn voice. "There
-is an oar to pull."</p>
-
-<p>And what could a man do but slide with the others down into the
-boat and rest on the loom of an oar? Phil shared a thwart with the
-carpenter, and raised his oar and held it upright between his knees.</p>
-
-<p>The coffin lay across the boat amidships, and there were four oars,
-two on the one side and two on the other; but a man sat beside each
-oarsman, two more crowded into the bow, and two sat in the stern sheets
-with the Old One. Then they lowered Will Canty to the bottom in front
-of the Old One, where he lay bound hand and foot.</p>
-
-<p>Shoving off from the ship, the oarsmen bent to their task and the Old
-One steered with a sweep; but the boat was crowded and deep in the
-water, and they made slow progress.</p>
-
-<p>Mosquitoes swarmed about them and droned interminably. The water licked
-at the boat and lapped on the white beach. The wind stirred in the
-palms. The great bay with its mountains and its starry sky was as fair
-a piece of land and sea as a man might wish to look upon in his last
-hour; but there are few men whose philosophy will stand by them at such
-a moment, and there is an odd quirk in human nature whereby a mere
-droning mosquito can drive out of mind the beauty of sea and land&mdash;nay,
-even thoughts of an immeasurable universe.</p>
-
-<p>The men beat at mosquitoes and swore wickedly until the Old One bade
-them be silent and row on, for although they had come near the shore
-the water was still deep under the boat, which tossed gently in the
-starlight.</p>
-
-<p>A time followed in which the only sounds were of the wind and the
-waves and the heavy breathing of the men. Some were turning their
-heads to see the shore and the Old One had already risen to choose a
-landing-place, when Will Canty&mdash;who, although bound hand and foot, had
-all the while been edging about in the stern unknown to the others till
-he had braced his feet in such a way that he could get purchase for a
-leap&mdash;gave a great spring from where he lay, and thus threw himself up
-and fell with his back across the gunwale, whence, wriggling like a
-worm, he strove to push himself over the side.</p>
-
-<p>The Old One sprang forward in fury to seize and hold him, and caught
-him by the wrist; but one of the men in zeal to have a hand in the
-affair drove the butt of his gun against Will Canty's chin, and in
-recovering the piece he stumbled and pushed the Old One off his
-balance. So the Old One lost his hold on Will Canty's wrist and before
-the rest knew what was happening Will had slipped into the deep water
-and had sunk. That he never rose was doubtless the best fortune that
-could have befallen him, and likely enough it was the blow of the gun
-that killed him. But the Old One was roused to such a pitch of wrath at
-being balked of his revenge that he was like a wild beast in his fury.</p>
-
-<p>Quicker than thought, he turned on the man who had pushed against him,
-and reaching for the coffin that was made to Will's measure&mdash;a great,
-heavy box it was!&mdash;raised it high and flung it at the fellow.</p>
-
-<p>It gashed the man's forehead and fell over the side and floated away,
-and the man himself, with a string of oaths, clapped his hand to the
-wound, whence the blood trickled out between his fingers.</p>
-
-<p>"Swine! Ass!" the Old One snarled. "I was of a mind to lay thee in Will
-Canty's bed. But let the coffin go. Th' art not worthy of it." The boat
-grated on white sand, and leaping to his feet the Old One cried with a
-high laugh as he marked his victim's fear, "Get thee gone! If ever I
-see thy face again, I will slit thy throat from ear to ear."</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, nay, do not send me away! Do not send me away!" the man wailed.
-"O God! No, not that! I shall perish of Indians and Spaniards! The wild
-beasts will devour me. Nay! Nay!"</p>
-
-<p>The Old One smiled and reached for a musket, and the poor fellow, his
-face streaked with gore, was overcome by the greater terror and fled
-away under the palms. No shot was fired and neither knife nor sword was
-drawn ere the echo of the fellow's wailing died into silence; but the
-Old One then fired a single shot after him, which evoked a last scream.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, Martin, take the scoundrel's oar," quoth the Old One, and he
-turned the head of the boat to sea.</p>
-
-<p>They said little and were glad to row briskly out to the ship. Action
-is ever welcome at the time when a man desires most of all to get away
-from memory and thought.</p>
-
-<p>That night, when they were all asleep, Martin leaped out on the deck
-and woke them by shrieking like a lunatic, until it seemed they were
-all transported into Bedlam. He then himself awoke, but he would say
-only, "My God, what a dream! Oh, what a dream!" And he would rub his
-hands across his eyes.</p>
-
-<p>The grumblers continued quietly to grumble, for that is a joy no
-power on earth can take away, but there was no more talk of another
-captain. Some said that now the luck would change and told of prizes
-they had taken and would take, and recalled to mind the strong liquors
-of Bideford and the pasties that Mother Taylor would make for them.
-Others, although they said little, shook their heads and appeared to
-wish themselves far away. But whether a man felt thus or otherwise,
-there was small profit of their talking.</p>
-
-<p>For another day and night they lay at anchor and ate and drank and
-sprawled out in the sun. The Rose of Devon, as they had earlier had
-occasion to remark, was richly found, and they had still no need to
-bestir themselves for food and drink. But any man with a head on his
-shoulders must perceive that with old Jacob, who had gone so wisely
-about his duties and had so well held his own counsel in many things,
-the ship had lost something of stability and firm purpose even in her
-lawless pursuits.</p>
-
-<p>And Will Canty, too, was gone! As the old writer has it, "One is choked
-with a fly, another with a hair, a third pushing his foot against the
-trestle, another against the threshold, falls down dead: So many kind
-of ways are chalked out for man, to draw towards his last home, and
-wean him from the love of earth." Though Will Canty had died a hard
-death, he had escaped worse; and as Priam, numbering more days than
-Troilus, shed more tears, so Philip Marsham, outliving his friend,
-faced such times as the other was spared knowing.</p>
-
-<p>Of all this he thought at length, and fearing his own conscience more
-than all the familiars of the Inquisition, in which he was singularly
-heartened by remembering the stout old knight in the scarlet cloak, he
-contrived a plan and bode his time.</p>
-
-<p>In the darkness of the second night, when the Old One had somewhat
-relaxed his watchfulness, Boatswain Marsham slipped over the bow and
-lowered himself silently on a rope he had procured for the purpose,
-and very carefully, lest the noise be heard on board the ship, seated
-himself in Tom Jordan's boat and rowed for shore. An honest man can go
-so far in a company of rogues and no farther.</p>
-
-<p>Reaching the land and hauling the boat up on the beach in plain sight
-of those left in the Rose of Devon, where they might swim for it if
-they would, he set off across the hills and under the palms. Upon
-reaching the height he looked back and for a moment watched the old
-ship as she swung with the tide on the still, clear water. He hoped he
-should never see her again. Then he looked down at the tremulous and
-shimmering bay where Will Canty lay dead, and was glad to plunge over
-the hill and leave the bay behind him.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a><br />
-<small>A MAN SEEN BEFORE</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>There was sullen anger and worse in the Rose of Devon when day broke,
-for the boatswain, too, had gone and the boat lay in sight upon the
-beach whereby all might know the means of his going.</p>
-
-<p>One watching from the mountain would have seen the Rose of Devon spread
-her sails and put to sea like a great bird with white wings. But there
-was no one on the mountain to watch, and when the ship had sailed,
-no human being remained to interrupt the placid calm that overspread
-the bay that summer morning. The sun blazed from a clear sky, and the
-green palms rustled and swayed beside the blue water, and in all the
-marvelously fair prospect of land and sea no sign or mark of violence
-remained.</p>
-
-<p>Phil Marsham had gone in the night over the hills and across the narrow
-peninsula between two bays. Though the way was rough, the land was high
-and&mdash;for the tropics&mdash;open, and he had put the peninsula behind him by
-sunrise. He had then plunged down into a swampy region, but, finding
-the tangle of vines and canes well nigh impassable in the dark, he had
-struggled round it and had again come to the shore.</p>
-
-<p>There, finding once more a place where a man could walk easily, he had
-pressed on at dawn through a forest of tall trees in infinite number
-and variety, with flowers and fruits in abundance, and past a plain of
-high grass of wonderful greenness.</p>
-
-<p>A short time after sunrise he drank from a spring of water and ate
-ship's bread from the small store with which he had provided himself.
-But he dared not linger, and resuming his journey he came upon two huts
-where nets and fishing-tackle were spread in the sun to dry. The heat,
-which seemed to swell from the very earth, by then so sorely oppressed
-him that he stopped for a while in a shady place to rest. But still he
-dared not stay, and although upon again arising he saw that dark clouds
-were covering the sky, he once more stepped forth with such a stout
-heart as had carried him out of London and all the long way to Bideford
-in Devon.</p>
-
-<p>It gave him a queer feeling to be tramping through an unknown land with
-no destination in his mind, yet he vowed to himself that, come what
-might, he would never go back to the Rose of Devon. There is a time
-when patience and forbearance are enough to earn a man a hempen halter,
-and thinking thus, he faced the storm and renewed his determination.</p>
-
-<p>The wind rose to a furious gale; the clouds overswept the sky and
-thunder shook the earth and heavens. The rain, sweeping down in
-slanting lines, cut through the palm leaves like hundreds upon hundreds
-of thrusting swords; and lightning flamed and flashed, and leaped from
-horizon to horizon, and hung in a sort of continual cloud of deathly
-blue in the zenith, blazing and quivering with appalling reverberations
-that went booming off through the mountains and came rolling back in
-ponderous echoes. It was enough to make a brave man think the black
-angels were marshalling for the last great battle; it was such a
-storm as a boy born in England and taught his seamanship in northern
-waters knew only by sailors' tales. The rain beat through the poor
-shelter that he found and drenched him to the skin, and the roaring and
-thundering of the tempest filled him with awe. And when the storm had
-passed, for it lasted not above three quarters of an hour, the sun came
-out again and filled the air with a steamy warmth that was oppressive
-beyond description.</p>
-
-<p>Then the woods came to life and insects stirred and droned, and
-mosquitoes, issuing from among the leaves and grasses, plagued him to
-the verge of madness.</p>
-
-<p>One who has lived always in a land where mosquitoes return each year in
-summer is likely to have no conception of the venomous strength with
-which their poison can work upon one who has not, by much experience of
-their bites, built up a measure of resistance against it. Phil's hands
-swelled until he could not shut them, and the swelling of his face so
-nearly closed his eyes that he could hardly see. When two hours later,
-all but blinded, and thirsting and hungry, he came again to the shore
-and made out in the offing, by squinting between swollen eyelids, the
-same Rose of Devon from which he had run away and to which he had vowed
-he would never return, his misery was such that he would have been glad
-enough to be on board her and away from such torment, though they ended
-the day by hanging him. But the Rose of Devon sailed away over the blue
-sea on which the sun shone as calmly and steadily as if there had been
-no tempest, and Philip Marsham sat down on a rock and gave himself up
-as a man already dead.</p>
-
-<p>There two natives of the country found him, and by grace of God, who
-tempered their hearts with mercy, carried him to their poor hut and
-tended him with their simple remedies until he was in such measure
-recovered of the poison that he could see as well as ever. He then set
-out once more upon his way to he knew not where, having rubbed himself
-with an ointment of vile odour, which they gave him in goodly quantity
-to keep off all pestiferous insects, and on the day when he ate the
-last morsel of the food with which the natives had provided him he saw
-from the side of a high hill a strange ship at anchor in a cove beneath.</p>
-
-<p>Now a ship might mean one thing or she might mean another; and a man's
-life might depend on the difference.</p>
-
-<p>Drinking deeply from a stream that ran over the rocks and through the
-forest, and so at last into the cove, Philip Marsham returned into the
-wood and sat upon a fallen tree. He saw a boat put out from the ship
-and touch on the shore a long way off, where some men left her and
-went out of sight. After an hour or two they came back, and, entering
-the boat, returned to the ship. He saw men working on deck and in the
-rigging; he heard the piping of a whistle, and now and again, as the
-wind changed, he heard more faintly than the drone of insects the
-voices of the men.</p>
-
-<p>Being high above the shore, he found the mosquitoes fewer and the wind
-helped drive them away; yet they plagued him continually, despite his
-ointment, of which little was left, and made him miserable while he
-stayed. He would have hurried off had he dared; but the chance that the
-ship would be the means of saving his life withheld him from pursuing
-his journey, while doubt concerning the manner of craft she was
-withheld him from making known his presence.</p>
-
-<p>In mid-afternoon he saw far away a sail, which came slowly in across
-the blue plain of the sea; and having clear eyes, trained by long
-practice, he descried even at that great distance the motion of a
-heavily rolling ship. From his seat high on the hill he could see a
-long way farther than the men in the ship in the cove, and a point of
-land shut off from them an arc of the sea that was visible from the
-hill; so when night fell they were still unaware of the sail.</p>
-
-<p>Though he had watched for hours the ship in the cove, the runaway
-boatswain of the Rose of Devon had discovered no sign of what nation
-had sent her out or what trade her men followed; but there came a time
-when his patience could endure suspense no longer. He picked his way
-down to the shore, following the stream from which he had been drinking
-during his long watch, and cautiously moved along the edge of the water
-till he came to the point of land nearest the anchored ship, whence he
-could very plainly hear voices on board her. There were lights on the
-stern and on deck, and through an open port he got sight of hammocks
-swinging above the guns on the main deck.</p>
-
-<p>At last he took off the greater part of his clothes and piled them
-on a rock; then, strapping his dirk to his waist, he waded silently
-into the water. Reaching his depth, he momentarily hesitated, but
-fortifying his resolution with such philosophy as he could muster, he
-began deliberately and silently to swim. Letting himself lie deep in
-the water and moving so slowly that he raised no wake, he came into the
-shadow of the ship. It was good to feel her rough planking. He swam
-aft under the quarter, and coming to the rudder laid hands on it and
-rested. Above him he could see, upon looking up, a lighted cabin-window.</p>
-
-<p>His own body seemed ponderous as he slowly lifted himself out of
-water. He raised one hand from the tip of the rudder just above the
-tiller to the carving overhead and got grip on a scroll wrought in
-tough oak. He put his foot on the rudder, and feeling above him with
-his other hand seized fast the leg of a carved dragon. Very thankful
-for the brave ornaments with which the builder had bedecked the ship,
-he next got hold of the dragon's snout, and clinging like a fly, unseen
-and unsuspected, above the black water that gurgled about the rudder
-and the hull, he crawled silently up the stern.</p>
-
-<p>Coming thus to the lighted cabin window, he peeked in and found the
-place deserted. On the table a cloth was laid, and on the cloth such a
-dinner service as he could scarce have dreamed of. There were glasses
-of rare tints, with a few drops of wine left in them, which glowed
-like garnets under the bright candles. There were goblets of silver,
-and even, he believed, of gold. There were wonderfully delicate plates
-crusted with gold about the edges. There was an abundance of silver to
-eat with and a great decanter, wrought about with gold and precious
-stones, such as simple folk might not expect to see this side of Heaven.</p>
-
-<p>At the sound of steps, Phil drew back and hung over the water on the
-great stern of the ship.</p>
-
-<p>A boy came into the cabin and stepped briskly about clearing the table.
-Voices came down from above&mdash;and they were speaking in English! What
-a prize she would have made for the Rose of Devon, Phil thought, and
-grimly smiled.</p>
-
-<p>"Boy!" a voice bellowed from somewhere in the bowels of the ship.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea, master," cried the boy, and with that he scurried from the
-cabin like a startled chick.</p>
-
-<p>Phil raised his head and renewed his hold, for he could not cling there
-forever; yet how to introduce himself on board the ship was a question
-that sorely puzzled him. He threw a bare leg over the sill, the more
-easily to rest, and revolved the problem in his mind. They were plainly
-honest Englishmen, and right glad would he have been to get himself in
-among them. Yet if he came like a thief in the night, they must suspect
-him of evil intentions without end. While he thus attacked the problem
-from one side and from the other, it occurred to him that the best way
-was to crawl down again into the water and swim back to the shore from
-whence he had come. There, having donned his clothes, he would call for
-help. Surely there was no one so hard of heart as to refuse a lad help
-in escaping from the pirates.</p>
-
-<p>He raised his leg to swing it out of the window again and put his
-scheme into practice, when he felt&mdash;and it startled him nearly out of
-his skin&mdash;a hand lay hold on his ankle.</p>
-
-<p>If you will balance yourself on the outside of any window with one foot
-over the sill, you will find it exceedingly difficult to pull your foot
-away from some one inside the window without throwing yourself off the
-wall, and Phil for the moment was reluctant to make the plunge. Slowly
-at first he twisted and pulled, but to no purpose. With waxing vigour
-he struggled and yanked and kicked and jerked, but completely failed to
-get his ankle out of the hand that held it.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed that a gentleman who had been sitting at a little desk, so
-placed that Phil could not have seen it without thrusting his head all
-the way into the cabin, had looked up, and, perceiving to his mild
-surprise a naked foot thrust in through the window, had nimbly arisen,
-and stepping lightly toward the foot, had seized the ankle firmly at
-the moment when Phil was about to withdraw it.</p>
-
-<p>The gentleman marvelled much at what he had discovered and purposed to
-get at the reason for it. Not only did he succeed with ease in holding
-the ankle fast against his captive's somewhat cautious first kicks;
-he anticipated a more desperate effort by getting firm hold with both
-hands, so that when his captive decided to risk all, so to speak, and
-tried with might and main to fling himself free and into the water by
-a great leap, the gentleman kept fast his hold and held the lad by his
-one leg, who dangled below like a trapped monkey.</p>
-
-<p>Very likely it was foolish of Philip Marsham to attempt escaping,
-but as I have said he was of no mind to be caught thus like a thief
-entering in the night, and he was so completely surprised that he had
-no time at all to collect his wits before he acted. Yet caught he was,
-and, for a bad bargain, hung by the heels to boot.</p>
-
-<p>"Boy," the gentleman said, and his voice indicated that he had a droll
-humour, "call Captain Winterton."</p>
-
-<p>The boy, further sounds revealed, who had come silently and in leisure,
-departed noisily and in haste.</p>
-
-<p>Heavy steps then approached, and a gruff voice cried, "What devilish
-sort of game is this?"</p>
-
-<p>"Take his other leg, Charles, and we shall soon have him safe on board.
-I am not yet prepared to say what sort of game it is, beyond saying
-that it is a rare and curious game."</p>
-
-<p>Thereupon a second pair of hands closed on Philip Marsham's other
-ankle, and, would he or would he not, he was hauled speedily through
-the cabin window.</p>
-
-<p>"Young man," said the gentleman who had first seized him, "who and what
-are you, and from whence have you come?"</p>
-
-<p>"I am Philip Marsham, late boatswain of the Rose of Devon frigate. I
-came to learn from what country this ship had sailed and to ask for
-help. I myself sailed from Bideford long since in the Rose of Devon,
-but, falling into the hands of certain sailors of fortune who killed
-our master and took our ship, I have served them for weary months as a
-forced man. Having at last succeeded in running away from them, I have
-come hither by land, as you can see, suffering much on the way, and I
-ask you now to have compassion on me, in God's name, and take me home
-to England."</p>
-
-<p>"Truly," said the gentleman, "those devilish flies have wrought their
-worst upon him. His face is swelled till it is as thick-lipped as a
-Guinea slave's." He spoke lightly and with little thought of Phil's
-words, for his humour was uppermost in him. He was in every way the
-fine gentleman with an eye for the comical, accustomed to having all
-things done for him and as little likely to feel pity for this nearly
-naked youth as to think it wrong that the little cabin boy should stand
-till morning behind his chair, lest by chance, desiring one thing or
-another, he must compromise his dignity by fetching it for himself.</p>
-
-<p>But now the other, Captain Winterton, a tall, grave man, with cold face
-and hard cold eyes, stepped forward, and speaking for the first time
-said: "Do you remember me?"</p>
-
-<p>Phil looked him in the eye and felt his heart sink, but he was no
-coward. "I do," he replied.</p>
-
-<p>Captain Winterton smiled. He was the first of the three men who had
-come on board the Rose of Devon by way of her gallery, and had entered
-the great cabin the night when Phil Marsham sat there at supper.</p>
-
-<p>It then burst upon Phil that in the whole plain truth lay his only hope.</p>
-
-<p>"I ran away from them&mdash;they had forced me into their service!&mdash;a week
-since. Nay, it is true! I am no liar! And it will pay you well to keep
-a sharp watch this night, for a vessel like enough to the Rose of Devon
-to be her twin is this minute lying behind yonder point."</p>
-
-<p>"Ah! And you sailed, I believe you said, from Bideford. Doubtless you
-have kept the day in mind?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why, 'twas in early May. Or&mdash;stay! 'Twas&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Enough! Enough! The master of&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"But though I marked neither the day of the week nor the day of the
-month, I remember the sailing well."</p>
-
-<p>"Doubtless," quoth the captain dryly, "but it will save time and serve
-thy cause to speak only when I bid thee. Interrupt me not, but tell me
-next the name of the lawful master in whose charge thy most excellent
-ship sailed from Bideford."</p>
-
-<p>This keen and quiet captain in the King's service was of no mind that
-his prisoner should tell with impunity such a story as he might make
-up on the moment. Accordingly he proceeded to draw forth by question
-after question such particular parts of the story as he himself desired
-to hear, now attacking the matter from one angle and now from another,
-watching his prisoner closely the while and all the time standing in
-such a place that the lad had no chance at all of escaping through the
-open window.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a><br />
-<small>A PRIZE FOR THE TAKING</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>"We shall see," said Captain Winterton, when he had listened to all
-of the tale that he would hear. He turned about. "Boy," he cried, "go
-speedily and send Mr. Rance in to me."</p>
-
-<p>The boy departed in haste and in a moment there entered a junior
-officer, who stared in frank curiosity at the three in the cabin.</p>
-
-<p>"Mr. Rance," said the captain, "go aloft in person to the main truck
-and look about you sharply. Come back and report what you see."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea, sir," the young man replied, and with that he was gone.</p>
-
-<p>The captain stood by the cabin window and frowned. Plainly he had small
-confidence in the good faith of the prisoner and regarded his story as
-at best an attempt to save himself at the expense of his friends. The
-gentleman of the humours, somewhat sobered by the captain's manner of
-grave concern, returned to his desk, but sat tapping his fingers and
-watching Philip Marsham.</p>
-
-<p>It had instantly, of course, dawned upon the runaway boatswain that
-his peril was more serious than he had had reason earlier to believe.
-For supposing the unknown sail should in all truth be the Rose of
-Devon,&mdash;and since she was cruising idly thereabouts nothing was more
-probable,&mdash;he stood between the Devil, or at all events the Devil's
-own emissary, Thomas Jordan, and a deeper sea than any ship has ever
-sailed: the sea upon which many a man with less plain evidence of
-piracy against him has embarked from a yardarm with a hempen collar
-about his neck and a black cap over his eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Who, pray, would accept for sober truth such a tale as any scoundrel
-would make out of whole cloth to save himself from hanging? Despite all
-he could do or say, he now saw plainly, he must stand convicted, in
-their minds, of being at the very least a spy sent to learn the state
-of affairs on board this tall ship in which he was now a prisoner.</p>
-
-<p>Then back to the cabin came young Mr. Rance and very much excited did
-he appear.</p>
-
-<p>"Sir," he exclaimed, and stood in the door.</p>
-
-<p>"Tell your tale."</p>
-
-<p>"A ship lieth two cable's lengths from land on the farther side of the
-point, and a boat hath set out from her and is following the shore as
-if to reconnoitre."</p>
-
-<p>"Ah," said the captain, "it is quite as I thought. No drums, mind you,
-nor trumpets, Mr. Rance. Call the men to quarters by word of mouth.
-Make haste and put springs on the cables if there be time before the
-boat rounds the point. Bid the gunner make all preparations for action
-and order a sharp watch kept; but order also that there be no sound or
-appearance of unusual activity. Send me a corporal and a file of men,
-and the master."</p>
-
-<p>The gentleman at the desk chuckled.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, boy, clear the table," said the captain.</p>
-
-<p>The boy jumped and returned to his work.</p>
-
-<p>The master came first, but the corporal and his men were close at the
-master's heels.</p>
-
-<p>"Take this fellow to the gun room, clap him into irons, and set a man
-to watch him."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea. Come, fellow, march along."</p>
-
-<p>And thus sending before them Boatswain Marsham, erstwhile of the Rose
-of Devon frigate, the corporal and his men departed from the cabin.</p>
-
-<p>There were guns on the right hand and the left&mdash;ordnance of a size to
-sink the Rose of Devon with a broadside. There were sailormen thronging
-between-decks in numbers to appall the young prisoner who came down
-among them nearly naked from his swim. Though no greater of burthen
-than the Rose of Devon, the ship was better armed and better manned,
-and all signs told of the stern discipline of a man-of-war.</p>
-
-<p>The alternatives that Phil Marsham faced, as he sat in shackles with no
-spirit to reply to the jibes of the sailors and watched men stripped to
-the waist and moving deftly among the guns, were not those a man would
-choose. If his old shipmates took this tall and handsome ship, a blow
-on the head and a burial over the side was the kindest treatment he
-could expect of them. And if not&mdash;the gallows loomed beyond a Court of
-Admiralty. For hours the hum of voices went up and down the main deck
-and for hours Boatswain Marsham sat with the bolts upon his legs and
-wrists and saw the life of the ship go on around him. The men leaped
-here and there at a word, or lolled by their guns waiting for orders.
-The night wore on, and nodding, Phil thought of the two ships lying
-one on each side of the point of land and by all appearances two quiet
-merchantmen. Yet one, he knew to his sorrow, smelled devilishly of
-brimstone; and the other, in which he now sat a prisoner, though her
-ports were closed and her claws sheathed, was like some great tiger
-watching through half-shut eyes a bold, adventurous goat.</p>
-
-<p>As the night wore on, he dared hope that the reconnoitering boat had
-returned to her ship with news that had sent her away in haste, whereby
-there was a chance that his tale might yet be taken for the truth that
-it was; and the longer he waited the higher rose his hope, and with
-the better reason. But an hour or more after midnight he heard men
-beginning to talk as if there was something new in the wind, and the
-nearest gunner put his ear to a cat-hole.</p>
-
-<p>"The dogs are out; I hear oars," he whispered. "Yea, though they are
-rowing softly, I swear I can hear oars."</p>
-
-<p>A hush came over the ship and those below heard faintly a hail given on
-deck.</p>
-
-<p>Distant sounds came and went like whispers out of the sky, then
-somewhere outside the ship a great shouting arose and one of the men at
-a starboard gun cried gleefully, with a round oath, "Verily they are
-bent on boarding us, lads! Their foolish audacity seasons the term of
-all our weary waiting."</p>
-
-<p>"Hark! They are hailing!" cried another.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, strike your flag. Have an end of all this talk," a distant voice
-called. Whereat Philip Marsham, who knew the voice, thought that though
-their audacity cost him his life it was in its own mad way superb.</p>
-
-<p>The reply was inaudible below, but a boat crashed against the ship.</p>
-
-<p>There was a burst of yelling, followed by a rattle of musketry, then a
-voice boomed down, "Haul up your ports and run out your guns!"</p>
-
-<p>At that the men beside the guns sprang up with running and calling and
-the ports flew open and the sounds from without became suddenly louder
-and clearer. On the one hand were boys handing up filled budge-barrels;
-on the other were gunners with linstocks ready and powder for the
-priming. Then, "Ho, Master Gunner," a great voice roared, "withhold
-your fire! The boats are under the guns and too near for a fair shot!"
-It was such a moment as a man remembers always, for there was the smoke
-of powder in the air, with a din of splashing and cursing, and overhead
-a great hubbub, then silence save for the quick beat of oars.</p>
-
-<p>"See! See!" cried the men. "There go their boats, splintered and all
-but sunk! And see! There go ours! To your oars, lads, to your oars, ere
-their ship hath time to flee! See! There they go! Yea, and there go we!"</p>
-
-<p>The Old One had made his last blunder. He had come by night, thinking
-to board a peaceful merchantman laden with a rich cargo, and had found
-himself at the head of his score of men on the deck of a man-of-war.</p>
-
-<p>To all those below, but most of all to Philip Marsham chained in the
-gun room, it was a blind, confusing affair; but the sounds told the
-story; and though darkness hid the blood that was spilled, there was no
-mistaking the cries for quarter and the shrieks of agony.</p>
-
-<p>Nor was there need for haste to reach the Rose of Devon, since the
-men left as keepers of the ship were too few to make sail. Captain
-Charles Winterton of the King's navy himself boarded the dark frigate
-by starlight, and a capital lark he found it, for behind his stern mien
-was a lively taste for such adventure. With lusty shouting he swept
-the handful of men from her deck, and having put a prize crew and his
-lieutenant in charge of her, he brought back a few more prisoners to
-join company with the luckless boarders he had sent down to be locked
-in irons below.</p>
-
-<p>They were sad and angry gentlemen, for there are those to whom the
-laughter of a hundred sailors is worse than death by the sword. The
-first of them all to enter the gun room was Tom Jordan. His cheek
-was gashed and his hair was singed and blood smeared his shirt from
-shoulder to shoulder and one arm hung limp and broken; but though he
-was in great pain he smiled, and when they led him into the gun room
-and he saw Philip Marsham with bolts on wrists and ankles, he laughed
-aloud.</p>
-
-<p>The fellow was a very mark and pattern of a scoundrel, but he had
-the courage and spirit of a hero, and had he first gone to sea under
-another king than James or Charles he might in some overwhelming danger
-have saved England. Great admirals are made of such timber&mdash;bold,
-resolute, utterly dauntless&mdash;and any bold man might have fallen into
-the same trap that had caught Tom Jordan. (Nay, had nothing warned
-Captain Winterton or aroused his suspicions, there was a fighting
-chance for Tom Jordan to have taken his ship from him even so.) But
-Tom Jordan had gone to sea in the days when the navy was going to the
-dogs, and, like many another lad of spirit who left the King's service
-to join the pirates, he had adventured with the Algerians before he led
-the gentlemen of Bideford. And at last, hazarding a final effort to
-retrieve his luck, he had unwittingly thrust his head into the halter.</p>
-
-<p>Yet, though they had broken his body, they had failed to touch his
-courage; despite his pain, he could smile and even laugh. Turning his
-great grief into a jest, he cried, "Holla, O bravest of boatswains!
-This is a joy I had not looked for. It seems that, if hang I must, I
-shall not hang alone." And laughing again, right merrily, he swooned
-away, which Captain Charles Winterton, having himself come down with
-the others to see them all shackled, watched with quiet interest.</p>
-
-<p>They brought down the carpenter, who was shaking like a man with an
-ague, and his beard waggled as he shook. They brought down Martin
-Barwick, whose face was drawn and haggard, and his hand rubbed his
-throat, for it itched in a prophetic manner. Then came Harry Malcolm,
-who stopped before Phil and spat at him and cursed him, and Paul Craig,
-who had neither eye nor thought for any one besides himself, and a
-dozen others of whom there was not one that failed to revile at their
-erstwhile boatswain. A hapless time of it Philip Marsham had among
-them, but it added little to his great burden of misery.</p>
-
-<p>Nor, for the matter of that, did reviling content them; for toward
-morning, when the others were dozing, Harry Malcolm, whom they had
-locked to a longer chain, crawled over to where Phil lay and very
-craftily tried to kill him with bare hands. The guard cried out, but
-instead of stopping, the man redoubled his efforts to throttle the lad
-whom he had seized from behind when he was asleep; whereupon the guard
-struck a sharp blow with the butt of his musket, and when the corporal
-had come running and had felt of Harry Malcolm's wrist and had listened
-for his heart and had turned him over on his back, he cursed the guard
-with fluent oaths for robbing the gallows.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a><br />
-<small>ILL WORDS COME TRUE</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>To the Isle of Wight, and thence to Spithead and Deptford, came in
-time the Sybil of forty-four guns, Captain Charles Winterton, and
-accompanying her, in the hands of a prize crew, the Rose of Devon
-frigate. There, bundling certain unhappy gentlemen of fortune out of
-the ship, they sent them expeditiously up to London and deposited them
-for safe keeping in the Marshalsea prison, a notable hostelry which has
-harboured great rogues before and since.</p>
-
-<p>In the fullness of time, the Lord High Admiral of England, "who holds
-his court of justice for trials of all sea causes for life and goods,"
-being assisted by the Judge of Admiralty and sundry others, officers
-and advocates and proctors and civilians, was moved to proceed against
-the aforesaid gentlemen of fortune. So they heard their names cried in
-the High Court of Admiralty and were arraigned for piracy and robbery
-on the high seas and charged with seizing the frigate Rose of Devon,
-the property of Thomas Ball and others, and murdering her master,
-Francis Candle, and stealing supplies and equipment to the value of
-eight hundred pounds. Nor was that the whole tale of charges, for it
-seemed that the Lords of Admiralty laid to the discredit of those
-particular gentlemen of fortune numerous earlier misdeeds of great
-daring and wickedness and an attempt to take His Majesty's ship Sybil,
-which had cost the lives of certain of His Majesty's seamen and had
-occasioned His Majesty much grief and concern.</p>
-
-<p>He who read the indictment spoke in a loud and solemn voice, such as
-might of itself make a man think of his sins and fear judgment; but
-they were already cowed and fearful, save only the Old One, who still
-held his head high and very scornfully smiled. The cook bent his head
-and shivered and dared not look the jury in the face. The carpenter
-wept and Martin Barwick was like a man struck dumb and Paul Craig kept
-working his mouth and biting at his lips.</p>
-
-<p>There was a great concourse of people, for who would not seize upon
-the chance to see a band of pirates? But a very poor show the pirates
-made, save the Old One; for though they had talked much and often of
-their valour and had represented themselves as tall fellows who feared
-nothing in life or death, they were now and for all time revealed as
-cowards to the marrow of their bones.</p>
-
-<p>Quietly and expeditiously the officers of the Court swore their first
-witness, who smelled of pitch and tar and bore himself in such wise
-that he was to be known for a sailor wherever he might turn.</p>
-
-<p>To their questions he replied with easy assurance, for he was not one
-of those fellows who cope with great gales and storms at sea only to be
-cowed by a great person on land. "Yea, sir," quoth he, "there is among
-mariners common talk of a band of sea sharks that hath long resorted
-to His Majesty's port of Bideford. Yea, my lord.&mdash;And have I met with
-them? That I have, and to my sorrow. This month two years I was master
-in a likely snow, the Prosperous of three hundred tons, which fell
-afoul of that very company, as their boasting and talk discovered
-to us, who took our ship and set me adrift in a boat with seven of
-mine own men, whereby, God being merciful unto us, we succeeded after
-many hardships in winning to the shore of Ireland, whence the Grace
-of Bristol bore us home to England.&mdash;The fate of the others in our
-company? In faith, some, I am told, joined themselves with that same
-band of sea sharks. The rest were slaughtered out of hand.&mdash;Nay, my
-lord, the night was black and my sight of the scoundrels was brief. I
-much misdoubt if I should know them again."</p>
-
-<p>"Come, come," quoth His Lordship, tapping the papers spread on his
-great table, "look at these prisoners gathered here at the bar and tell
-me if there be one among them of whom you can say, 'This man was there;
-this man did thus and so.'"</p>
-
-<p>So the witness came, with the air of a man who is pleased to be seen
-of many people, and looked them over, one and all; but at the end of
-his looking he sadly shook his head. "Nay, my lord, the night was dark
-and sight was uncertain; and though I should rejoice&mdash;none more than
-I!&mdash;to see a pirate hanged, I am most loath to swear away the life of
-an innocent man. There is no man here of whom I can truly say I have
-seen him before."</p>
-
-<p>His Lordship frowned and the proctors shook their heads; the prisoners
-sighed and breathed more freely. The tale was at an end, and bearing
-away with him his smell of pitch and tar the fellow returned to his
-place.</p>
-
-<p>Four witnesses were then summoned, one after another, and told tales
-like the first. One had been in a ship that was seized and sunk in
-Bristol Channel; the second had received a gaping wound in the shoulder
-off St. David's Head, and had known no more until he found himself
-alone on the deck of a plundered flyboat; the third had fallen into
-evil company in Plymouth, which beat him and robbed him and left him
-for dead, and from the talk of his murderous companions he had learned,
-before they set upon him that they were certain gentry of Bideford;
-and the last of the four told of the murderous attack of a boarding
-party, which had taken a brig and tumbled him over the side into a
-boat. "Yea, my lord," he cried, "and I fear to think upon what befell
-our captain's little son, for of all our crew only three men were left
-alive and as they sailed away from us three we heard the boy shrieking
-pitifully." One by one the witnesses wove with their tales a black
-net of wickedness, but they could not or would not say they knew this
-prisoner or that.</p>
-
-<p>The Judge frowned darkly from his bench and the people in the seats
-opened their mouths in wonder and excitement at the stories of robbery
-and murder. But the net was woven loosely and without knots, for thus
-far there had been no one to pick out this man or that and say, "It
-was he who did it." So the cook and the carpenter took heart; and the
-colour returned to Martin Barwick's face; and the Old One, leaning
-back, still smiled scornfully. Yet the Judge and the advocates seemed
-in no way discouraged, from which the men of the Rose of Devon might
-have drawn certain conclusions; for as all the world knows, judges and
-advocates with a band of pirates under the thumb are, for the honour of
-the law, set upon making an example of them.</p>
-
-<p>There was long counselling in whispers, then a bustle and stir, and an
-officer cried loudly, "Come, make haste and lead her in."</p>
-
-<p>A murmur passed over the court and the people turned their heads to
-look for the meaning of the cry. Then a door opened and an officer
-appeared, leading by the arm a very old woman.</p>
-
-<p>Phil Marsham felt his heart leap up; he saw Martin raise his hand to
-his throat with a look of horror. But when he stole a glance at the
-Old One, he saw, to his wonder, that the Old One was smiling as calmly
-as before: truly the man was a marvel of unconcern and a very cool and
-desperate rascal.</p>
-
-<p>"Is this the woman?" quoth my Lord the Judge, who raised his head and
-lifted his brows to see her the better.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, my lord."</p>
-
-<p>"Hm! Let us look into this matter!" There was silence in the room
-except for the sound of shuffling papers. "This woman, commonly known
-as Mother Taylor, is to be hanged this day sennight, I believe."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, my lord."</p>
-
-<p>"And it hath been suggested that if she can lay before us such evidence
-as is needful, she will be commended to the King's mercy and doubtless
-reprieved from the gallows. Hath all this been made plain and clear to
-her?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, my lord."</p>
-
-<p>"Hm! It appears by these papers, woman, that keeping a house to which
-rogues of all descriptions have resorted is the least of your crimes."</p>
-
-<p>A strange, cracked old voice burst shrilly upon the still court. "'Tis
-a lie, my lord! Alas, my lord, that wicked lies should take away my
-good name, and I tottering on the edge of the grave!"</p>
-
-<p>There were cries of "Silence!" And the officer at the old woman's side
-shook her by the arm.</p>
-
-<p>"And to continue from the least to the greatest, you have disposed of
-all manner of stolen goods, and have prepared slow poisons to be sold
-at a great price and have stained your hands with murder."</p>
-
-<p>"Alas, my lord, it is a wicked lie&mdash;!"</p>
-
-<p>They shook her into silence, but her lips continued to move, and as she
-stood between the officers her sharp little eyes ranged about the court.</p>
-
-<p>There was further counselling among the proctors, then one cried
-sharply, "Come, old woman, remember that the hangman is ready to don
-his gown, and answer me truly before it is too late: on such and such a
-day you were at your house in Bideford, were you not?"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, sir, I am old and my wits are not all they were once and I cannot
-remember as I ought."</p>
-
-<p>"Come, now, on such a day, did not a certain man come to your house in
-Bideford and abide there the night?"</p>
-
-<p>"It may be&mdash;it may be&mdash;for one who keepeth a tavern hath many guests."</p>
-
-<p>"Look about you, old woman, and tell us if you see the man."</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, good sir, my wits wander and I do not remember as I used."</p>
-
-<p>As Philip Marsham watched her hard face, so very old and crafty, he
-paid little heed to the low voices of the proctors and the Judge. But
-the sharp command, "Look this man in the face and tell us if you have
-ever seen him before," came to the erstwhile boatswain of the Rose of
-Devon like the shock of cold water to a man lying asleep.</p>
-
-<p>They led her before Tom Jordan&mdash;before the Old One himself&mdash;and the two
-looked each other full in the face, yet neither fluttered an eye. In
-all truth they were a cool pair; it had taken a Solomon to say which of
-them was now the subtler.</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, my lord, how should I know this man? He hath the look of an
-honest fellow, my lord, but I never saw him ere this."</p>
-
-<p>Thereupon the officers exchanged glances and the proctors whispered
-together.</p>
-
-<p>They led her before Martin Barwick and again she shook her old white
-head. "Nay, my lord, I know him not." But Martin was swallowing hard,
-as if some kind of pip had beset him, and this did not escape the
-notice of the Court.</p>
-
-<p>Down the line of accused men she came and, though she walked in the
-shadow of the gallows, she said of each, in her shrill, quavering old
-voice, "Nay, my lord, I know him not."</p>
-
-<p>Of some she spoke thus in all truth; of others, though she knew it
-would cost her life, she craftily and stoutly lied. And at last she
-came to Philip Marsham, whose heart chilled when he met the sharp eyes
-that had looked so hard into his own in Bideford long before. "Nay,
-my lord, he is a handsome blade, but I never saw him ere this." Some
-smiled and sniggered; but the old woman shrugged, and lifted her brows,
-and stood before the Court, wrinkled and bent by years of wickedness.
-Say what you will of her sins, her courage and loyalty were worthy of a
-better cause.</p>
-
-<p>In despair of pinning her down, they led her away at last to a bench
-and there she sat with officers to guard her. Now she watched one man
-and now she watched another. Often Philip Marsham felt a tremor, almost
-of fear, at seeing her eyes looking hard into his own. But though of
-the old woman the Court had made nothing, the exultation that showed
-in the faces of some of the prisoners was premature, for the Lords of
-Admiralty had other shafts to their bow, as any gentleman of fortune
-might have known they would.</p>
-
-<p>Again there was a stir among the ushers, and in the door appeared one
-at whose coming Tom Jordan ceased to smile.</p>
-
-<p>The fellow's chin sagged and his eyes were wild and he ducked to His
-Lordship as if some one had pulled a string; and when they called on
-him to give the Court his name he cried very tremulously, "Yea, yea!
-Joseph Kirk, an it please you, my lord!"</p>
-
-<p>"Come now, look about you at these men who are arraigned for piracy.
-Are there any there whom you have seen elsewhere?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea, that there be! There! And there! And there!"</p>
-
-<p>"Ah! Hm! Men you have seen elsewhere! Tell us who they are." And His
-Lordship smiled dryly.</p>
-
-<p>"It is not to count against me, my lord? I have repented&mdash;yea, I have
-repented! 'Twill not undo the King's pardon?"</p>
-
-<p>The very Judge on the bench gave a grunt as in disgust of the abject
-terror the fellow showed, and a murmur of impatience went through the
-room; but though he afforded a spectacle for contempt, they reassured
-him and urged him on.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, yea! That one there&mdash;he at the end&mdash;was our captain, and Tom
-Jordan his name. It was he who led us against a vast number of prizes,
-which yielded rich profit. It was he and Harry Malcolm&mdash;why, Harry
-Malcolm is not here. Huh! 'Tis passing strange! He hath so often stole
-beside them, I had thought he would hang beside them too. Yea, and as
-I was saying&mdash;Let us consider! Yea, yea, it was he and Harry Malcolm
-who contrived the plan for killing Captain Candle and taking the Rose
-of Devon. Yea, they called me apart on the forecastle and tempted me to
-sin and forced me with many threats. He it was&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Tom Jordan was on his feet. "You lie in your throat, you drunken dog!
-It was you who struck him down with your own hand!"</p>
-
-<p>"Nay, nay! I did him no harm! It was another&mdash;I swear it was another!"</p>
-
-<p>"It seems," said His Lordship, when they had thrust Tom Jordan back in
-his seat and had somewhat abated their witness's terror of his one-time
-chief, "it seems this fellow's words have touched a sore. Go on."</p>
-
-<p>"And there is Martin Barwick&mdash;nay, hold him! Nay, if I am to go on, I
-must have protection!&mdash;and there Paul Craig and there our boatswain,
-Philip Marsham&mdash;" And so he continued to name the men and told a tale
-of shameful acts and crimes for the least of which a man is hanged.
-Indeed, Philip Marsham himself knew enough of their history to send
-them one and all to the gallows, but he had not heard a tenth part
-of the story of piracy and robbery and murder and black crimes unfit
-for the printed page that this renegade pirate told to the full Court
-of Admiralty. The fellow made a great story of it, yet kept within a
-bowshot of the truth; but he was a villain of mean spirit and, though
-he did for the Court the work it desired, he bought his life at cost of
-whatever honour he may have had left.</p>
-
-<p>And then came Captain Charles Winterton, who rose, bowing in stately
-wise to His Lordship, and with a composed air and an assured voice
-very quietly drew tight the purse-strings of the net that Joe Kirk had
-knotted. In his grand and dignified manner he bowed now and then to His
-Lordship and to the proctors, who asked him questions with a deference
-in their bearing very different from their way with the other witnesses.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, these pirate rogues boarded His Majesty's ship Sybil and killed
-three of His Majesty's men before they perceived the blunder they had
-made and gave themselves up.&mdash;How many lives did the boarders lose?
-Probably twelve or fourteen. Several bodies fell into the water and
-were not recovered. It was useless to hunt for them, my lord. Great
-sharks abound in those waters.&mdash;Yea, this Thomas Jordan led them in
-person. In truth, there is little distinction between them in the
-matter of guilt. The man Marsham, whom the previous witness named a
-boatswain, was the first to board the Sybil. He entered the great cabin
-by way of the stem, apparently to spy out the situation on board. He
-declared himself a forced man who had run away from the pirates. Who
-could say? The situation in which he was taken was such, certainly,
-as to incriminate him; though 'twere cause for sorrow, since he was a
-brave lad and had given no trouble during the voyage home."</p>
-
-<p>There was a great whispering among the people, who thought it was a
-shame for so likely a lad to hang with a pack of pirates. But it was
-plain by now to the greatest dullard among those unhappy gentlemen of
-fortune that hang they must; and for Philip Marsham, who sat as white
-as death from the shame of it, there was no slightest spark of hope.
-The net was woven and knotted and drawn, and the end of it all was at
-hand.</p>
-
-<p>When, according to the custom of the time, they called on Tom Jordan
-for his defense, he rose and said, "Alas, my lord, the ropes are laid
-that shall hang me. Already my neck aches. This, though, I will say:
-whatever these poor men have done, it is I that compelled them into it,
-and I, my lord, will stand to answer for it."</p>
-
-<p>Some gave one defense and some another; and meanwhile there was much
-legal talk, dry and long and hard to understand. And so at last they
-called on Philip Marsham to rise and speak for himself if he had
-anything to say in his own defense.</p>
-
-<p>He rose and stood before them, very white of face, and though his voice
-trembled, which was a thing to be expected since he saw before him a
-shameful death, he told them his true story, beginning with the day he
-sailed from Bideford, very much as I have told it here. But when they
-asked him about affairs on board the Rose of Devon that concerned the
-others and not him, he replied that each man must tell his own tale and
-that though he swung for it he must leave the others to answer those
-questions for themselves.</p>
-
-<p>"Come," quoth His Lordship, leaning forward and sharply tapping his
-table, "you have heard the question asked. Remember, young man, that
-you stand in a place exceeding slippery. It shall profit you nothing to
-hold your peace."</p>
-
-<p>"My lord," said he, "the tale hath been told in full. There is no need
-that I add to it, and were I to speak further I should but carry with
-me to the grave the thought that I had done a treacherous thing. Though
-I owe these men for nought save hard usage, yet have I eaten their
-bread and drunk their wine, and I will not, despite their sins, help to
-hang them."</p>
-
-<p>It was doubtless very wrong for him to reply thus, as any moralist
-will point out, since it is a man's duty to help enforce the laws by
-bringing criminals to justice. But he answered according to his own
-conscience; and after the craven talk of Joseph Kirk, the lad's frank
-and honest statement pleased perhaps even my Lord the Judge, sitting
-high above the court, who frowned because his position demanded frowns.
-Surely loyalty ranks high among the virtues and great credit is due to
-a keen sense of personal honour. But there then came from his talk a
-result that neither he nor any other had foreseen.</p>
-
-<p>Up sprang Tom Jordan. "My lord," he cried, "I pray thee for leave to
-speak!"</p>
-
-<p>To the frowns and chidings of the officers who forced him down again,
-he paid no heed. A tumult rose in the room, for they had hurled the Old
-One back and clapped hands over his mouth; but out of the struggle came
-again the cry, "My lord! My lord!" and His Lordship, calling in a loud
-voice for order and silence, scowled and gave him the leave he asked.</p>
-
-<p>As Martin had said long before, Tom Jordan was an ugly customer when
-his temper was up and hot, but no man to nurse a grudge.</p>
-
-<p>"I thank you, my lord," said he, the while smoothing his coat, which
-had wrinkled sadly in the scuffle. "Though I must hang I desire to see
-justice done. It lay in the power of this Philip Marsham to have added
-to the tale of our sins and the sum of our woes; wherefore, since he
-hath had the spirit to refrain from doing thus, why, my lord, I needs
-must say that he hath spoken only the truth. He was a forced man, and
-having a liking for him, since he is a lad of spirit, I would have
-had him join us heart and soul. 'Tis true likewise that he ran away
-from our ship and turned his hand against us, and for that I would have
-let him hang with these other tall fellows but for the brave spirit he
-hath shown. But as for yonder swine&mdash;yea, thou, Joe Kirk! Quake and
-stare!&mdash;he hath done more mean, filthy tricks to earn a hanging than
-any other gentleman of fortune, I believe, that ever sailed the seas."</p>
-
-<p>"Not so, my lord!" Joe Kirk yelled. "He fears me for my knowledge of
-his deeds! Help! Hold him&mdash;hold him!"</p>
-
-<p>Tom Jordan swore a great oath and Joe Kirk leaped up in his seat, white
-and shaking, and cried over and over that it was all a lie, and there
-was a merry time of it before the attendants restored peace.</p>
-
-<p>And then, to the further amazement of all in the court, Captain Charles
-Winterton again rose.</p>
-
-<p>"If I may add a word, my lord? Thank you, my lord. I observed that when
-the prisoners went below their manner toward this man Marsham was such
-as to lend a certain plausibility to his story. They took, in short, so
-vindictive a delight in his misfortunes that even then it seemed not
-beyond reason that his tale was true and that he had indeed left them
-without leave. That, of course, proves nothing with regard to his being
-a forced man; but it is a matter of common justice to say that, in
-consideration of all that I have seen before and of that which I have
-this day heard, I believe he hath told the truth both then and now.
-Thank you, my lord."</p>
-
-<p>Such a hullabaloo of talk as then burst forth among the spectators, and
-such learned argument as passed between the proctors and the Lieutenant
-of Admiralty and His Lordship the Judge, surpass imagination. Some
-quoted the Latin and the Greek, while others of less learning voiced
-their opinions in the vulgar tongue, so that all in all there was
-enough disputation to fuddle the wits of a mere layman by the time they
-gave the case to the jury.</p>
-
-<p>Then the jury, weighing all that had been said, put together its twelve
-heads, while such stillness prevailed in the court that a man could
-hear his neighbor's breathing. It seemed to those whose lives were at
-stake that the deliberations took as many hours as in reality they took
-minutes. There are times when every grain of sand in the glass seems
-to loiter in falling and to drift through the air like thistledown, as
-if unwilling to come to rest with its fellows below. Yet the sand is
-falling as fast as ever, though a man whose life is weighing in the
-balance can scarcely believe it; so at last the jury made an end of its
-work, which after all had taken little enough time in consideration of
-the matter they must decide.</p>
-
-<p>"You have reached with due and faithful care a verdict in this matter?"
-quoth His Lordship.</p>
-
-<p>"We have, my lord."</p>
-
-<p>"You will then declare your verdict to the Court."</p>
-
-<p>"Of these fourteen prisoners at the bar of justice, my lord, we find
-one and all guilty of the felonies and piracies that are charged
-against them, save only one man." In the deathly silence that fell upon
-the room the name sounded forth like the stroke of a bell. "We acquit,
-my lord, Philip Marsham."</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>There and then Philip Marsham parted company with the men of the Rose
-of Devon. His hands shook when he rose a free man, and when many spoke
-to him in all friendliness he could find no voice to reply.</p>
-
-<p>Never again did he see their faces, but he heard long afterward of how,
-a week from the day of their trial, they went down the river to Wapping
-in wherries, with the bright sun shining on the ships and on the shore
-where a great throng had assembled to see them march together up the
-stairs to Execution Dock.</p>
-
-<p>Though they had always made themselves out to appear great and fierce
-men, yet on that last day they again showed themselves cravens at
-heart&mdash;except Tom Jordan. The Old One, stern, cold, shrewd, smiled at
-his fellows and said, "It is to be. May God have mercy on me!" And
-though he stood with the black cap over his eyes and the noose round
-his neck, he never flinched.</p>
-
-<p>As for Martin Barwick, his face grey with fear, he strove to break
-away, and cried out in English and in Spanish, and called on the
-Virgin. Sadly, though, had he fallen from the teachings of the Church,
-and little did his cries avail him! He came at the last to the end
-he had feared from the first; and his much talk of hanging was thus
-revealed to have been in a manner prophecy, although it sprang from no
-higher oracle than his own cowardly heart.</p>
-
-<p>One told Philip Marsham that Mother Taylor was hanged; another said
-they let her go, to die a natural death in the shadow of the gallows
-that stood by the crossroads in her native town of Barnstable. Either
-tale is likely enough, and Phil never learned which was true.</p>
-
-<p>For aught I know to the contrary, she may have found an elixir of life
-as good as the one discovered by the famous Count de Saint-Germain,
-and so be living still.</p>
-
-<p>Whatever the end she came to, Phil Marsham was far away when they
-determined her fate. For the day he stepped out in the streets of
-London, a free man once more and a loyal subject of the King, he took
-the road to the distant inn where he was of a mind to claim fulfillment
-of Nell Entick's promise.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</a><br />
-<small>BACK TO THE INN</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>If this were a mere story to while away an idle hour, I, the scribe,
-would tie neatly every knot and leave no Irish pennants hanging from
-my work. But life, alas, is no pattern drawn to scale. The many
-interweaving threads are caught up in strange tangles, and over them,
-darkly and inscrutably, Atropos presides. Who cannot recall to mind
-names and faces still alive with the friendship of a few weeks or
-months,&mdash;a friendship pleasant in memory,&mdash;a friendship that promised
-fruitful years, but that was lost for ever when a boy or man drifted
-out of sight for one reason or another, and on one tide or another of
-the projects that go to make up life? To Philip Marsham, tramping again
-the high roads of England, there came, mingled with many other desires,
-a longing to see once more the Scottish smith who had wrought the dirk
-that had tasted blood for his protection in those dark adventures at
-sea. But when he came to the smithy beside the heath he found it open
-and empty. The wind blew the door on rusty hinges; brown leaves had
-drifted in and lay about the cold forge; the coals were dead, the
-bellows were broken, and the lonely man who had wrought iron on the now
-rusty anvil had taken his tools and gone.</p>
-
-<p>The day was still young, for the wayfarer, starting early and in the
-fullness of his strength, had this day covered three miles in the time
-that one had taken him when he walked that road before. So he left the
-smithy and pushed on across the heath and far beyond it, marking each
-familiar farm and village and country house, until night had fallen and
-the stars had come out, when he laid him down under a hedge and slept.</p>
-
-<p>He was thinking, when he fell asleep, of Nell Entick. He remembered
-very well her handsome face, her head held so high, her white throat
-and bare arms. He was going back to the inn to claim fulfillment of
-her promise and he pictured her as waiting for him there. In most ways
-he was a bold, resolute youth who had seen much of life; but in some
-ways, nevertheless, he was a lad of small experience, and if he thought
-at all that she had been a little overbold, a little overwilling, he
-thought only that she was as honestly frank as he.</p>
-
-<p>Waking that night upon his bed of leaves, he saw far away on a hill the
-dancing flames of a campfire, concerning which he greatly wondered.
-For, having been long out of England, he had small knowledge of
-the ups and downs of parliaments and kings; and in the brief time
-since his return, of which he had spent nearly all in prison, he had
-heard nothing of the tumultuous state of the kingdom, save a few
-words dropped here or there while he was passing through hamlets and
-villages, and seen nothing thereof save such show of arms as in one
-place or another had caught his eye but not his thought. Although he
-knew it not, since he was a plain lad with no gift of second-sight, he
-lay in a country poised on the brink of war and his bed was made in the
-field where a great battle was to be fought.</p>
-
-<p>He went on at daylight, and going through a village at high noon
-saw a preacher in clipped hair and sober garb, who was calling on
-the people to be valiant and of good courage against those wicked
-men who had incited riot and rebellion among the Roman Catholics in
-Ireland, whereby the King might find pretext for raising a vast army to
-devastate and enslave England. Sorely perplexed by this talk, of which
-he understood little, Phil besought a sneering young fellow, who stood
-at no great distance, for an explanation; to which the fellow replied
-that it was talk for them that wore short hair and long ears, and that
-unless a man kept watch upon his wits his own ears would grow as long
-from hearing it as those of any Roundhead ass in the country. At this
-Phil took umbrage; but the fellow cried Nay, that he would fight no
-such keen blade, who was, it seemed, a better man than he looked. And
-with a laugh he waved the matter off and strolled away.</p>
-
-<p>So to the inn Phil came in due time, having meditated much, meanwhile,
-on the talk of the King and war and the rights of Parliament, which was
-in the mouths and ears of all men. But he put such things out of his
-mind when at last he saw the inn, for the moment was at hand when his
-dreams should come true and he should find waiting for him the Nell
-Entick he remembered from long ago.</p>
-
-<p>Surely a lad of enterprise, who had ventured the world over with
-pirates, could find in any English village something to which he could
-turn his hand. Indeed, who knew but some day he might keep the inn
-himself&mdash;or do better? Who knew? He remembered Little Grimsby and drew
-a long breath. Caught in a whirl of excitement that set the blood
-drumming in his ears, he strode into the house and, boldly stepping up
-to the public bar, called loudly, "Holla, I say! I would have speech of
-Mistress Nell Entick."</p>
-
-<p>From a tall settle in the corner, where he sat taking tobacco, there
-rose a huge man with red and angry face.</p>
-
-<p>"Who in the Devil's name art thou," he roared, "that comes ranting into
-an honest house and bawls out thus the name of Mistress Nell Entick?"</p>
-
-<p>There were as usual a couple of countrymen sitting with pots of ale,
-who reared their heads in vast amazement, and in the noisy kitchen
-down the passage a perceptible hush followed the loud words. The house
-seemed to pause and listen; the countrymen set down their pots; there
-was a sound of creaking hinges and of lightly falling feet.</p>
-
-<p>Very coolly, smiling slightly, Philip Marsham met the eyes of the big,
-red-faced man. "It seems," said he, "thou art riding for another fall."</p>
-
-<p>A look of recognition, at first incredulous, then profoundly
-displeased, dawned on the red face and even greater anger followed.</p>
-
-<p>"Thou banging, basting, broiling brogger!" he thundered. "Thou
-ill-contrived, filthy villain! Out the door! Begone!"</p>
-
-<p>"It seems, Jamie Barwick, that thy wits are struck with years. Have
-care. Thy brother is already on the road to Wapping&mdash;they have signed
-and sealed his passage."</p>
-
-<p>The fat man came to Phil with the slow gait and the low-hung head of a
-surly dog. He thrust his red face close to Phil's own.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, it is thou," he sneered. "I am minded to beat thee and bang thee
-till thou goest skulking under the hedges for cover. But it seems thou
-hast good news. What is this talk of the hangman's budget?"</p>
-
-<p>"It is true. By now thine excellent brother hath in all likelihood
-donned the black cap and danced on air. As for beating and
-banging&mdash;scratch thy head and agitate thy memory and consider if I have
-given thee reason to hope for quietness and submission."</p>
-
-<p>There was a flicker of doubt in the man's small eyes, whereby it seemed
-his memory served him well.</p>
-
-<p>"And what meanest thou by saying thou would'st have speech of Mistress
-Nell Entick?" he asked suspiciously.</p>
-
-<p>"That concerns thee not."</p>
-
-<p>"Ha!" He scowled darkly. "Methinks it concerns me nearly!"</p>
-
-<p>And then a high voice cried, "Who called my name?"</p>
-
-<p>They turned and Phil Marsham's face lighted, for she stood in the door.
-She was not so fair as he had pictured her&mdash;what lad's memory will not
-play such tricks as that?&mdash;and he thought that when he had taken her
-away from the inn she need never again wear a drabbled gown. But it
-was she, the Nell Entick who had so lightly given him her promise and
-kissed him as he fled, and he had come for her.</p>
-
-<p>"Back again, John? Nay, John was not thy name. Stay! No, it hath
-escaped me, but I remember well thy face. And shall I bring thee ale?
-Or sack? We have some rare fine sack."</p>
-
-<p>He stared at her as if he could not believe his ears had told him
-right. "I have come," he said, "to claim a certain promise&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>She looked bewildered, puzzled, then laughed loudly. "Silly boy!" she
-cried. "I am these six months a wife."</p>
-
-<p>"A wife!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, and mine," cried Barwick. "Come, begone I I'll have no puppies
-sniffling at her heels."</p>
-
-<p>At something in the man's manner, the full truth dawned on Philip
-Marsham. "I see. And you have taken the inn?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, that I have! Must I split thy head to let in knowledge? Begone!"</p>
-
-<p>She laid her hand on Barwick's wrist. "The lad means no harm," she
-whispered. "Come, it is folly to drive trade away." And over Barwick's
-shoulder she cast Phil such a glance that he knew, maid or matron, she
-would philander still.</p>
-
-<p>But Phil had seen her with new eyes and the old charm was broken.
-(Perhaps if Tom Marsham had waited a year before he leaped into
-marriage, I had had no story to tell!) All that was best in the father
-had come down to the son, and Phil turned his back on the siren with
-the bold, bright eyes. He turned his back on the inn, too, and all the
-dreams he had built around it&mdash;a boy's imaginings raised on the sands
-of a moment's fancy. Nay, he turned his back on all the world he had
-hitherto known.</p>
-
-<p>With a feeling that he was rubbing from his face a spider's web of
-sordidness,&mdash;that he was cutting the last cord that bound him to his
-old, wild life,&mdash;stirred by a new and daring project, he went out of
-the inn and turned to the left and took the road in search of Sir John
-Bristol.</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</a><br />
-<small>AND OLD SIR JOHN</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>Sir John Bristol! There, gentlemen, was a brave, honest man! A man of
-spirit and of a humour! If you crossed him, if you toyed with him, his
-mirth was rough, his hand was hard, he was relentless as iron. But for
-a man who stood his ground and fought a bold fight and met squarely the
-old man's eyes, there was nothing Sir John would not do.</p>
-
-<p>After all his weary travels by land and sea, Philip Marsham had at last
-come back to find a man whom he had seen but once and for a brief time.
-Yet in that man he had such complete confidence as he had never had in
-any other, and since Jamie Barwick had left the man's service and taken
-the inn&mdash;who knew?</p>
-
-<p>Striding over the same rolling country road that he had tramped with
-Martin long before, and coming soon to the park, he skirted it and
-pressed on, keeping meanwhile his eyes and wits about him, until
-he perceived a gate and a porter's lodge. He went to the gate and
-finding it ajar slipped through and made haste up a long avenue with
-overarching trees. A man from the lodge came out and angrily called
-after the intruder, but Phil never looked back. The avenue turned to
-the left and he saw at a distance the great house; he was of no mind to
-suffer hindrance or delay.</p>
-
-<p>The sunset sky threw long, still shadows across the grass, and
-countless wandering branches of ivy lay like a dark drapery upon the
-grey walls of the old house. A huge dog came bounding and roaring down
-the avenue, but when the lad smiled without fear and reached a friendly
-hand toward him, the beast stopped clamouring and came quietly to heel.
-Lights shone from the windows and softly on the still evening air the
-thin, sweet music of a virginal stole over the broad terraces and lawns.</p>
-
-<p>The clamour of the dog, it seemed, had attracted the attention of those
-within, for a grey-haired servant met the stranger in the door. He
-stood there suspiciously, forbiddingly, and with a cold stare searched
-the young man from head to heel.</p>
-
-<p>"I would have speech of Sir John Bristol," said Phil.</p>
-
-<p>The servant frowned. "Nay, you have blundered," he replied haughtily.
-"The servants' hall&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"I said Sir John."</p>
-
-<p>"Sir John? It is&mdash;ahem!&mdash;impossible."</p>
-
-<p>"I said Sir John."</p>
-
-<p>The servant moved as if to shut the door.</p>
-
-<p>"Come," said Phil quietly, "enough of that! I will have speech of Sir
-John Bristol."</p>
-
-<p>For a moment the servant hesitated, then from within a great voice
-cried, "Come, Cobden, what's afoot?"</p>
-
-<p>In haughty disapproval of the lad without, the servant turned his back,
-but to the man within he spoke with deference, as if apologizing. "Yea,
-Sir John. The fellow is insistent, but I shall soon have him off."</p>
-
-<p>"Go, Cobden. Leave him to me."</p>
-
-<p>The servant moved away and disappeared.</p>
-
-<p>The virginalling had ceased, and on the lawns and the avenue and the
-park, which stretched away into the dark valley, a deep silence had
-come with the twilight. The sun had set and the long shadows across
-the grass were lost in the greater shadow of evening. As the world
-without had grown darker, the lights within seemed to have grown
-brighter.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, fellow, come into the hall. So! Have I not seen thee before?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, Sir John."</p>
-
-<p>"Ha! I can remember faces. Aye, there are few that escape me. Let us
-consider. Why, on my life! This is the lad that gave Barwick such a
-tumbling that the fellow walked lame for a month. Speak up! Have I not
-placed thee right?"</p>
-
-<p>"Though I was faint for want of food, I was quicker on my feet than he."</p>
-
-<p>The old man laughed until his brave curls shook.</p>
-
-<p>"In faith, and it is said with moderation. And what now, lad? What hath
-brought thee hither?"</p>
-
-<p>"Since Barwick hath left your service&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"That he hath, that he hath!"</p>
-
-<p>"It seemed there might be a place for a keeper."</p>
-
-<p>"For a keeper? Ha, ha, ha! Nay, th' art too spirited a lad to waste
-away as keeper. Mark my word, lad, the King will shortly have need for
-such courageous gallants as thou. Unless I mistake thy spirit, we shall
-soon see thee riding among the foremost when we chase these dogs of
-Roundheads into the King's kennels and slit their noses and prick their
-ears as a warning to all of weak mind and base spirit."</p>
-
-<p>"I have a taste for such sport, and God knows I am the King's man."</p>
-
-<p>"Good, say I!" Sir John's clear eyes searched the frank eyes of the
-lad, and the old man was pleased with what he found. "Come, the cook
-shall fill thy belly and Cobden shall find thee a bed. Cobden! Cobden,
-I say!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, Sir John."</p>
-
-<p>"Make place for this good fellow in the servants' hall and see that he
-hath all that he can eat and drink."</p>
-
-<p>"Yea, Sir John."</p>
-
-<p>"But stay a moment. Thy name, fellow."</p>
-
-<p>"Philip Marsham."</p>
-
-<p>"Philip Marsham?" The heavy brows knotted and Sir John spoke musingly.
-"Philip Marsham! I once knew a man of that name."</p>
-
-<p>Silence fell upon the hall. Grey Cobden stood a little behind his
-master, and when Phil looked past Sir John he saw standing in a door
-the tall, quiet girl he had seen with the old knight that day in the
-wood so long since. Doubtless it was she who had played upon the
-virginal. Her dark eyes and fine dignity wove a spell around the lad&mdash;a
-spell of the magic that has come down from the beginning of time&mdash;the
-magic that is always young.</p>
-
-<p>Take such spells, such magic, as lightly as you please; yet they have
-overturned kingdoms and not once, but many times, have they launched a
-thousand ships.</p>
-
-<p>"Did you ever hear of Dr. Marsham of Little Grimsby?" Sir John asked,
-and he watched the lad very closely.</p>
-
-<p>"Yea."</p>
-
-<p>"And what have you heard of him?"</p>
-
-<p>"He is my grandfather."</p>
-
-<p>"So!" The old knight stepped back and bent his brows. "Verily," he
-said, "I believe the lad hath spoken truth. Go, Cobden. There is no
-place in the hall for this lad."</p>
-
-<p>The servant departed and the girl stepped nearer.</p>
-
-<p>"Your father's name?" Sir John said.</p>
-
-<p>"My father's name was Thomas Marsham."</p>
-
-<p>"Doubtless he bred you to the sea."</p>
-
-<p>"He did."</p>
-
-<p>"He broke the hearts of his father and his mother."</p>
-
-<p>Phil stood silent in the hall and looked Sir John in the eye. Since
-there seemed to be no reply, he waited for the knight to speak again.</p>
-
-<p>"Tom Marsham's father and mother are dead, but within the year, lad,
-they stood where you are standing now. It was the last time I saw them."</p>
-
-<p>What could a young man say? Phil Marsham remembered well the one time
-he had himself seen them. Who knew what might have happened had he
-spoken? But the chance was gone, and for ever.</p>
-
-<p>"There is no place for Philip Marsham in my servants' hall," said Sir
-John. "His father&mdash;but no! Let the dead lie. There is no place for
-Philip Marsham in my servants' hall. Under my roof he is my guest."</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV</a><br />
-<small>AND AGAIN THE ROSE OF DEVON</small></h2>
-
-
-<p>The story of Philip Marsham and of Sir John Bristol, and of the fortune
-left by the good Doctor Marsham of Little Grimsby,&mdash;how it came to his
-grandson and was lost in the war that brought ruin to many a noble
-family,&mdash;is a tale that may some day be worth the telling. Of that, I
-make no promises.</p>
-
-<p>The years that followed were wild and turbulent, but during their
-passage Phil chanced upon one reminder and another of his earlier days
-of adventuring. He saw once again the long, ranting madman who had
-carried the great book. He might not have known the fellow, who was in
-a company of Brownists or Anabaptists, or some such people, had he not
-heard him crying out in his voice like a cracked trumpet, to the great
-wonder and admiration of his fellows, "Never was a man beset with such
-diversity of thoughts." There was Jacob, too, who had sneaked away
-like a rat on the eve of the day when Tom Jordan's schemes fell about
-his ears: Phil once came upon him face to face, but when their eyes
-met Jacob slipped round a corner and was gone. He was a subtle man and
-wise, and of no intention to be reminded of his days as a pirate.</p>
-
-<p>Philip Marsham went to the war with Sir John Bristol, and fought for
-the King, and rose to be a captain; and with the story of Philip
-Marsham is interwoven inseparably the story of Anne Bristol and of her
-father, Sir John. For Sir John Bristol died at the second battle of
-Newbury with his head on Philip Marsham's knees; and in his grief at
-losing the brave knight who had befriended him, the lad prayed God for
-vengeance on the Roundhead armies.</p>
-
-<p>And yet, though his grief was bitter, he had too just a mind to see
-only one side of a great war. Once, when they sent him from the King's
-camp on a secret mission, the enemy ran him to cover, and he escaped
-them only by doubling back and hiding in the garret of a cottage
-where he lay high under the thatch and watched through a dusty little
-window the street from the Red Boar Inn down the hill to the distant
-meadows, without being himself seen. He heard far away a murmur as
-of droning bees. Minutes passed and he heard the drone settle into a
-hollow rumble, from which there emerged after a time the remote sound
-of rattling drums and the occasional voices of shouting men. Then, of a
-sudden, there broke on the air a sound as of distant thunder, in which
-he made out a chorus:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
- <div class="stanza">
- <div class="verse">"His staff and rod shall comfort me,</div>
- <div class="verse indent2">His mantle e'er shall be my shield;</div>
- <div class="verse">My brimming cup I hold in fee</div>
- <div class="verse indent2">Of him who rules the battlefield."</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>The voices of the singing men came booming over the meadows. They were
-deep, strong voices and there was that in their volume and fierce
-earnestness which made a man shiver.</p>
-
-<p>Phil heard a dog barking; he saw a woman standing in the door of a
-cottage; he saw a cloud of dust rise above the meadow; then they came.</p>
-
-<p>First a band of men on foot in steel caps, with their firelocks
-shouldered, swinging out in long, firm strides. Then a little group
-of kettledrums, hammering away in a fierce rhythm. Then a number of
-horsemen, with never a glint of gold on their bridles and never a curl
-from under their iron helms. Then, rank behind rank, a solid column of
-foot that flowed along the dusty road over hillock and hollow, dark and
-sombre, undulating like a torpid stream of something thick and slow
-that mightily forces a passage over every obstacle in its way.</p>
-
-<p>They came up the hill, turning neither to right nor to left, up the
-hill and over it, and away to the north, where King Charles and all his
-armies lay.</p>
-
-<p>It was a fearful sight, for they were stern, determined men. There
-was no gallant flippancy in their carriage; there was no lordly show
-of ribbands and linen and gold and silver lace. They frowned as they
-marched, and looked about them little. They bore so steadily on, they
-made one feel they were men of tempered metal, men of no blood and no
-flesh, men with no love for the brave adventures of life, but with a
-streak of iron in their very souls.</p>
-
-<p>Philip Marsham had heard the men of the Rose of Devon go into battle
-with cries and shouting, and laugh when they killed; he had seen old
-Sir John Bristol throw back his head proudly and jest with the girls of
-the towns on their march; but these were men of another pattern.</p>
-
-<p>He became aware, as he watched them go by&mdash;and he then knew the meaning
-of fear, safely hidden though he was, behind the dirty and small window
-in the gable; for had one man of those thousands found him there, it
-would have ended the fighting days of Philip Marsham&mdash;he became aware
-that here was a courage so stubborn there was no mastering it; that
-here was a purposeful strength such as all the wild blades in his
-master's camp could never match. Their faces showed it; the marching
-rhythm of the never-ending column was alive with it.</p>
-
-<p>Behind the first regiments of infantry, horsemen came, and, at an
-interval in the ranks of the cavalry, five men rode together. The eyes
-of one, who led the four by a span or two, were bent on the road, and
-his face was stern and strong and thoughtful. As Phil watched him,
-the first hesitating surmisal became conviction, and long afterward
-he learned that he had been right. From his gable window he had seen
-Oliver Cromwell go by.</p>
-
-<p>All that afternoon the column streamed on, and in the early darkness
-Philip fell asleep to the sound of men marching. In the morning they
-were gone, and he went on his way and fulfilled his mission; but though
-the King's men fought with a gallantry that never lessened, the cause
-of the King was lost, and the day broke when Philip Marsham was ready
-to turn his back on England.</p>
-
-<p>So he came a second time to the harbour of Bideford, in Devon, and had
-it in his mind to take ship for some distant land where he could forget
-the years of his youth and early manhood. He was in the mood, then,
-to envy Sir John Bristol and all the gallant company that had died on
-the fields of Naseby and Newbury, and of many another great battle;
-for he was the King's man, and great houses of the country had fallen,
-and many lords and gentlemen whose estates had gone to pay the cost of
-Cromwell's wars had as much reason as he, and more, to wonder, at the
-sight of deep water, whether it were better to die by one's own hand
-or to seek new fortunes beyond the sea.</p>
-
-<p>There were many vessels in the harbour and his gaze wandered over
-them, ships and pinks and ketches and a single galliot from the Low
-Countries, until his eyes came at last to one of singularly familiar
-aspect. He looked at her a long time, then strolled down to the quay
-and accosted an aged man who was warming his rheumatic limbs in the sun.</p>
-
-<p>"What ship is that," said Captain Marsham, "which lies yonder, in line
-with the house on the farther shore to the right of the three trees?"</p>
-
-<p>The aged man squinted over the harbour to pick up the bearings his
-questioner had given him and cleared his throat with a husky cough.</p>
-
-<p>"Why, that," he said, "be&euml;s the frigate they call Rose of Devon."</p>
-
-<p>"The Rose of Devon&mdash;nay, she cannot be the Rose of Devon!"</p>
-
-<p>"Can and be&euml;s. Why does 'ee look so queer, sir?"</p>
-
-<p>"Not the Rose of Devon!"</p>
-
-<p>"Art 'ee addled?" He laughed like a cackling hen. "Aye, an' yon's her
-master."</p>
-
-<p>The master turned when the young captain accosted him, and replied,
-with reasonable civility, "Yea, the Rose of Devon, Captain Hosmer, at
-your service, sir. Passage? Yea, we can take you, but you're a queer
-sort to ask passage ere you know whither she sails. Is it murder or
-theft?"</p>
-
-<p>"Neither. The old order is changing and I would go abroad."</p>
-
-<p>"To the colonies?"</p>
-
-<p>"They tell me all the colonies are of a piece with these Roundheads
-here, and that as many psalms are whined in Boston in New England as in
-all the conventicles in London."</p>
-
-<p>He laughed in good humour. "You are rash," said he. "Were I of the
-other side, your words might cost you your head. But we're going south
-to Barbados, and there you'll find men to your own taste."</p>
-
-<p>Captain Philip Marsham wished no more than that. So he struck a bargain
-for passage, and paid with gold, and sailed from England for the second
-time in the old Rose of Devon, the dark frigate that by God's grace had
-come back to Bideford in the hour when he most needed her.</p>
-
-
-<p class="ph3">THE END</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p class="ph3">THE DARK FRIGATE</p>
-
-<p class="ph4"><i>By</i> CHARLES BOARDMAN HAWES</p>
-
-
-<p>The frigate <i>Rose of Devon</i> rescues from a wreck in mid-ocean twelve
-men who show their gratitude by seizing the <i>Rose</i>, killing her captain
-and sailing toward the Caribbean where they hope to plunder Spanish
-towns and galleons. Mistaking an English man-of-war for a merchantman,
-they are captured and brought back to England for trial. Only one,
-an English lad, Philip Marsham, a member of the original crew of the
-<i>Rose</i>, is acquitted; and he, after adventures in the forces of King
-Charles, tires of Cromwell's England and sails for Barbados once more
-on the <i>Rose of Devon</i>.</p>
-
-<p>"The Dark Frigate" has long been a favorite story for boys and in
-1924 was awarded the John Newbery Medal, given annually "for the most
-distinguished contribution to American literature for children."</p>
-
-<p>When "The Dark Frigate" was first published F. F. Van deWater in <i>The
-New York Tribune</i> said: "No one, we think, has written so perfect a
-pirate tale since 'Treasure Island'."</p>
-
-<p class="ph4"><i>With frontispiece in full color by</i> ANTON OTTO FISCHER</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p class="ph3">THE MUTINEERS</p>
-<p class="ph4"><i>By</i> CHARLES BOARDMAN HAWES</p>
-
-
-<p>This rousing pirate story of the Pacific has proved even more popular
-than the author's Newbery Prize-winning "The Dark Frigate." Originally
-published as an Atlantic Monthly Press Book in 1920, it has delighted
-thousands of adventure-loving boys (and girls too!). From the moment
-when young Benjamin Lathrop of Salem signs up with Captain Whidden of
-the <i>Island Princess</i> the reader embarks on a reading voyage of high
-and gleaming excitement.</p>
-
-<p>"There is the atmosphere of the old-time ships and the spirit of the
-sailors of a century ago&mdash;such as you find in the pages of Dana and
-Stevenson.... Here is a story that stands out with distinction among
-all the sea stories of many years."</p>
-
-<p class="ph5">&mdash;<i>Boston Herald</i></p>
-
-<p class="ph4"><i>With frontispiece in full color by</i> ANTON OTTO FISCHER</p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's The Dark Frigate, by Charles Boardman Hawes
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