Read Black Bartlemy's Treasure Page 17


  CHAPTER XVI

  TELLS HOW WE WERE DOGGED BY THE BLACK SHIP

  I awoke in panic and, leaping up groped in the pitch-dark until myeager fingers closed on the haft of the sheath-knife under my pillow,and with this naked in my hand I crouched awaiting I knew not what; forall about me was direful sound, groans and cries with wailings longdrawn out in shuddering complaint. Then, all at once, my panic waslost in sudden great content, and thrusting away the knife I took flintand steel and therewith lighted my lanthorn; since now indeed I knewthese dismal sounds nought but the creak and groan of the stout ship,the voice of her travail as she rose to the seas. And as I hearkened,every individual timber seemed to find a voice, and what with this andthe uneasy pitching and rolling of the ship I judged we were well underweigh and beyond the river-mouth. This (bethinking me of the damage wehad sustained from the great black ship) set me to wondering, insomuchthat I reached for my lanthorn, minded to steal on deck that I mightknow our whereabouts and if it were day or night, since here in thebowels of the ship it was always night. So (as I say) I reached forthe lanthorn, then paused as above all other sounds rose a cheery hail,and under the door was the flicker of a light. Hereupon I opened thedoor (though with strangely awkward fingers) and thus espied Godbylurching towards me.

  "What, Mart'n pal," says he, sitting beside me on my berth and settingdown the food and drink he had brought, "are ye waking at last?"

  "Have I slept long, Godby?"

  "You've slept, Mart'n, a full thirty hours."

  "Thirty hours, Godby?"

  "Split me crosswise else, pal!"

  "Mighty strange!" says I, reaching for the flask he had brought, for Ifelt my mouth bitterly parched and dry, while, added to the consumingthirst, my head throbbed miserably.

  "Well, here we be, pal, clear o' the river this twelve hours and more.And, Mart'n, this is a ship--aye, by hokey, a sailer! So true on awind, so sweet to her helm, and Master Adam's worthy of her, blister meelse!"

  "'Tis strange I should sleep so long!" says I, clasping my aching head.

  "Why, you'm wise to sleep all ye can, pal, seeing there be noughtbetter to do here i' the dark," says he, setting out the viands beforeme. "What, no appetite, Mart'n?" I shook my head. "Lord love ye,'tis the dark and the curst reek o' this place, pal--come aloft, all'sbowmon, the fine folk han't found their sea-legs yet, nor like to whilethis wind holds, Mart'n--so come aloft wi' Godby."

  Nothing loth I rose and stumbled towards the ladder, marvelling to findmy hands and feet so unwieldy as I climbed; the higher I went the morethe rolling and pitching of the ship grew on me, so that when at last Idragged myself out on deck it was no wonder to find the weather veryblusterous and with, ever and anon, clouds of white spray lashingaboard out of the hissing dark with much wind that piped shrill andhigh in cordage and rigging.

  Being sheltered by the high bulwark hard beside the quarter-deckladder, I leaned awhile to stare about me and drink in great draughtsof sweet, clean air, so that in a little my head grew easier and theheaviness passed from me. Ever and anon the moon peeped through wrackof flying cloud, by whose pale beam I caught glimpses of bellying sailstowering aloft with their indefinable mass of gear and rigging, and theheel and lift of her looming forecastle as the stately vessel rose tothe heaving seas or plunged in a white smother of foam.

  "She rides well, Mart'n!" roared Godby in my ear. "Aha, here's duck ofa ship, pal!"

  "Where's Adam?" I questioned.

  "To'-gallant poop, Mart'n. Lord love ye, it's little sleep he's hadsince we hove anchor. Hark'ee, pal--he's got it into his head as we'mbeing dogged!"

  "Dogged, man--by what?"

  "By that same great black ship as fouled us--he has so, pal--roast meelse! But come your ways." So saying, Godby climbed to thequarter-deck and I after him, and mounting the poop-ladder, presentlycame on Penfeather, peering hard over our lee.

  "Ha, is it you, shipmate!" says he, drawing me out of the wind. "Lookyonder, d'ye see aught of a rag o' sail, Martin?" Following hispointing finger, I stared away into the distance across a tumblingspume of waters vague in the half-light. "D'ye glimpse aught, Martin?"

  "Nothing, Adam!"

  "Wait for the moon, shipmate--now, look yonder!" As the light grew, Iswept the distant horizon with my eyes until, all at once against thenight, I saw the sheen of distant canvas that gleamed and was goneagain as a cloud veiled the moon. "You saw it, Martin?"

  "Plainly!" says I, whereupon he sprang away to the men at the helm;came the hoarse roar of speaking-trumpet, and decks and waist belowseemed alive with scurrying, dim figures; and now was a chorus ofshouts and yo-ho-ing as the "Faithful Friend," obedient to hiscommands, swung off upon an altered course.

  "Godby," says Adam, beckoning us where stood the compass or bittacle,"look'ee, as she bears now we should be nigh enough yon curst ship tolearn more of her by peep o' dawn."

  "Aye, Cap'n--and then?"

  "Then you shall try what you can do wi' one o' those long guns o'yours."

  "Lord love ye, Cap'n, that's the spirit!" cried Godby, hitchingjoyously at his broad belt, "All I asks is a fair light and no favour!"

  "And you have the middle watch, Godby man, so I'll get a wink o'sleep," says Adam, "but do you call me so soon as we raise her hull.As for you, Martin, you'll have slept your fill, I judge."

  "And yet I'm plaguy drowsy still!" says I.

  "There's a spare berth in the coach, comrade, an you're so minded!"

  "Nay, Adam, I'll watch awhile with Godby."

  "Good! You've keen eyes, Martin--use 'em!" says he, and goes down theladder forthwith.

  And now, pacing the lofty poop beside Godby, I was aware that the"Faithful Friend" was dark fore and aft, not a light twinkled anywhere.

  "How comes this, Godby!" says I, pointing to the dim shapes of thegreat stern lanthorns above us.

  "Cap'n's orders, Mart'n! We've been dark these two nights, and yet ifyon craft is what we think, 'twould seem she follows us by smell, pal,smell. As how, say you? Says I, last night she was fair to be seenhaving closed us during the day, so out go our lights and up goes ourhelm and we stand away from her. At dawn she was nowhere and yet--hereshe is again--if yon ship be the same."

  "Which we shall learn in an hour or so, Godby."

  "Aye, Mart'n, if she don't smell us a-coming and bear away from us.And yet she must be a clean, fast vessel, but we'll overhaul her goingroomer or on a bowline."

  "Roomer? Speak plain, Godby, I'm no mariner!"

  "Time'll teach ye, pal! Look'ee now, 'roomer' means 'large,' and'large' means 'free,' and 'free' means wi' a quartering-wind, and thatmeans going away from the wind or the wind astarn of us; whiles 'on abowline' means close-hauled agin the wind, d'ye see?"

  "Godby, 'tis hard to believe you that same peddler I fell in with atthe 'Hop-pole.'"

  "Why, Mart'n, I'm a cove as adapts himself according. Give me a packand I'm all peddler and j'y in it, gi'e me a ship and I'm all marinerto handle her sweet and kind and lay ye a course wi' any--though gunsis my meat, Mart'n. Fifteen year I followed the sea and a man is aptto learn a little in such time. So here stand I this day not onlygunner but master's mate beside of as tight a ship, maugre the crew, asever sailed--and all along o' that same chance meeting at the'Hop-pole.'"

  "And though a friend of Bym you knew little of Adam Penfeather?"

  "Little enough, Mart'n. Joel be no talker--but it do seem Jo was oneof the Coast-Brotherhood once when Cap'n Penfeather saved his life andthat, years agone. So Joel comes home and sets up marriage, free-tradeand what not, when one day lately Master Adam walks into the 'Peck o'Malt,' and no whit changed for all the years save his white hair. Andhere comes rain, Mart'n--"

  "And wind!" says I as the stout ship reeled and plunged to the howlinggust.

  "No, Mart'n," roared Godby above the piping tumult, "not real wind,pal--a stiffish breeze--jolly capful."

  Slowly the night wore away and therewith the buffeting wind gentledsomewhat; gr
adually in the east was a pale glimmer that, growing,showed great, black masses of torn cloud scudding fast above ourreeling mastheads and all about us a troubled sea. But as the lightgrew, look how I might, nowhere could I descry aught of any ship uponthat vast horizon of foaming waters.

  "Ha!" says Godby, venting huge sigh, "there's to be no play for my gunsthis day, Mart'n."

  "Nay but," says I, mighty perplexed, "what's come of her? She couldnever have marked our change of course at the distance and 'twas blackdark beside, and we bore no lights."

  "Mayhap she smelt us, pal, as I said afore. Howbeit, 'tis beyond me,cram me wi' rope-yarn else!"

  Now, as he spoke, up came the sun, turning lowering sky and tempestuousocean to glory; every ragged cloud became as it were streaming bannersenwrought of scarlet and gold, every foaming billow a rolling splendourrainbow-capped, insomuch that I stood awed by the very beauty of it all.

  "I love the good, kind earth, Mart'n, wi' its green grass and flowersa' peep, 'tis a fair resting-place for a man when all's done and said,but yonder, pal--ah, there's glory for ye! Many's the time I'vewatched it, dawn and sunset, and, minding all the goodly ships and thejolly lads as are a-sleeping down below, at such times, Mart'n, it doseem to me as if all the good and glory of 'em came aloft for eyes tosee awhile--howbeit, 'tis a noble winding-sheet, pal, from everlastingto everlasting, amen! And by that same token the wind's veering, whichmeaneth a fair-weather spell, and I must trim. Meantime do you rouseMaster Adam." And here, setting hands to mouth, Godby roared highabove the wind:

  "Watch ho! Watch! Brace about--bowse away there!"

  As I crossed the deck, up the poop ladder comes Adam himself, his redseaman's bonnet tight-drawn about his ears and a perspective-glassunder his arm. "'Tis as I thought, Martin," says he, pinching his chinand scowling away to leeward, "she changed course as we did."

  "Nay but, Adam, how should she know we changed and the night so black?"

  "Very easily, shipmate, by means of a light--"

  "We bore no lights, Adam."

  "None the less someone aboard this ship signalled yon black craft bymeans of a lanthorn, 'tis beyond doubt!"

  "And why should she follow us, think ye?"

  "Why am I a marked man, shipmate, why have I been dogged hither and yonacross seas? Come into the coach and I'll tell ye a thing. Godby!"says he, coming where Godby stood beside the steersman, "lay her on herold course. 'Tis Merrilees takes next watch, I think--tell him to warnme as soon as we raise her accursed topsails."

  "What," says I, as we climbed from the lofty poop, "you think she willdog us still, then?"

  "I know it, Martin!" says he gloomily, and so brought me into asmallish cabin under the top-gallant poop; here were bunks to larboardand starboard with a table mid-way furnished with calendars, charts, across-staff, an astrolabe, with globes and the like, while against thewalls stood rows of calivers, musquetoons and fusees, set in racks veryorderly. "Aye, shipmate," says he, noting my gaze, "every firelockaboard is either here or in the arm-chests i' the round-house below,and our powder is all stored well aft, by reason that I am a cautiousman, d'ye see! Sit ye, Martin! Now as to this black ship--first ofall she fouls us in the river, the which was no accident, Martin,though just what the motive was I'm yet a-seeking. Second, as shedrifted past us whom should I see aboard her but Abnegation Mings andpulled trigger a moment too late, but winged another o' the rogues.Third, when we'd repaired our damage and got us clear of the river whatshould we see but this same black ship hove short waiting us, for shepresently stands after us. And so she's dogged us ever since and so dogus she will to the world's end unless I can bring her to action."

  "She's a fighting ship by her looks and heavily armed!" says I.

  "So are we, Martin!"

  "And our men, Adam?"

  "Ah!" says he, pinching his chin, "there it is, Martin, there it is!Look'ee, shipmate, in all this crew there are no more than twenty men Ican count on, nay, less--ten only can I swear by. See now, here's youand Merrilees and Godby, here's Farnaby and Toby Hudd the bo'sun,Treliving the carpenter, and McLean his mate, here's Robins and Perksand Taffery the armourer--good mariners all. These I can trust,shipmate, but never another one!"

  "And what of the captain, Sir Rupert Dering?"

  "That, Martin!" says Penfeather, snapping his fingers. "A verygentleman-like fool, d'ye see, a bladder of air--like his threefellows."

  "So we have four gentlemen aboard, Adam?"

  "Aye--princocks all that do nothing but vie in court to her ladyship!Now look'ee, Martin, what with one thing or another, and this hell-fireship on our heels in especial, there's stir and disaffection among thecrew, a-whispering o' corners that I don't like, and which is apt tospread unless looked to. Wherefore this morning I ordered a certainred-haired rascal fifty lashes athwart a gun. But the bo'sun had laidon but poor ten and the fellow roaring lustily when into the'tween-decks cometh my lady in mighty taking, and seeing the rogue'sback a little bloody, ordered him freed and thereafter cossets him wi'dainties from her own table. Lord love ye! Which cometh o' womenaboard ship!" And here Adam sighed mighty dismal.

  "Why then," says I, "here's work for me, belike."

  "As how, Martin?"

  "Nay, leave it to me, being little better than rogue myself I shouldknow how to outmatch roguery!"

  "Meaning you'll spy on 'em, shipmate?"

  "And lie and cozen and join fellowship with 'em if need be. Howbeitthere's aught afoot I'll bottom it, one rascally fashion or t'other."

  "'Tis desperate risk, Martin, and should they suspicion you--"

  "Why, look, Adam, my life's none so sweet or precious that I'd cherishit in lavender. Besides I've a feeling I may not die until--at least,not yet."

  "Wait!" says he, as I rose. "Bide a while, Martin!" And, opening alocker beneath his bunk, he took thence a shirt of fine chain-work likethat he himself wore. Shaking my head I would have put it by but hecaught my arm in his powerful grip and shook me insistent. "Take it,Martin," says he, "take it, man, 'tis easy and pleasant as any glove,yet mighty efficacious 'gainst point or edge, and you go where knivesare sudden! Stay then, take it for my sake, shipmate, since trustycomrades be few and mighty hard come by." So in the end I did it onbeneath my doublet and found it to irk me nothing. "And now, what?" hequestioned, as I opened the door.

  "Sleep," says I, yawning.

  "There's a bunk yonder, Martin," says he, eyeing me 'twixt narrowedlids.

  "Nay, I'm for my dog-hole, Adam."

  "You seem to sleep much and mighty well, despite stench and rats,shipmate."

  "I'm grown used to 'em," says I, with another yawn, "and as to sleepingI do little else of late--'tis the dark, belike, or bad air, or lack ofexercise." Now as I rose to be gone, the deck seemed to heave oddlybeneath my feet and the cabin to swing dizzily round, so that I mustneeds grip at the table to steady myself, while Adam peered at methrough a haze as it were.

  "What's here, Martin, are ye sick?" he questioned.

  "A vertigo!" I mumbled, "I'll into the air!" In a little the dizzinessabating, I got me out on deck and found in the rushing wind mightycomfort and refreshment, while Adam steadied me with his arm. "Letbe!" says I, shaking off his hold. "'Twas nought--I'll go sleepagain." And waiting for no more I stumbled down the quarter-ladder;but even as I went, the haze seemed to close about me thicker thanever, and groping my way to the ship's side I sank across the bulwarkand was miserably sick. This agony passing, I made my way below untilI reached the orlop; but now feeling my sickness upon me again I creptaway into a dark corner and cast me down there. And lying thus in mymisery I little by little became aware of someone weeping hard by, adesolate sobbing very pitiful to hear. Insomuch that (maugre myweakness) I got up and going whence this sobbing proceeded, presentlycame on a small, huddled figure, and stooping, saw it was a little lad.At my step he started to his knees, elbow upraised as if expecting ablow.

  "Why d'ye weep, boy?" I questioned. "What's your troubl
e?"

  "Nowt!" says he, cowering away; but taking him by his little, thinshoulders I lifted him into the dim light of a swinging lanthorn, andlooked into a small, pallid face swollen and disfigured by cuts andbruises wrought by some brutal hand.

  "Who did this?" I demanded.

  "Nobody!" says he, gulping a sob.

  "Who are you?"

  "'Tween-decks boy."

  "How old are you, child?"

  At this he stared up at me out of his swollen eyes, then covering hisface in ragged sleeve broke into convulsive sobbing.

  "What now?" says I, drawing him beside me. "What now?"

  "She used to call me 'child'--my mother--" and here his grief chokedhim. Now as I looked down upon this little, pitiful creature, I forgotmy sickness in sudden, fierce anger.

  "Boy," said I, "who's been flogging you--speak!"

  "Red Andy," he gasped, "'e be always a' doin' of it 'e be--wish I wasdead like my mother!"

  "Jim, ho Jimmy," roared a voice from somewhere in the gloom forward,"Jim--plague seize ye, show a leg, will 'ee--" Here (and before Icould stay him) the boy started up and pattered away drying his tearsas he ran. Now as I lay there I kicked off my shoes and hearkenedexpectant. Thus, all at once I heard a murmur rising to a wail thatended in a shrill scream, and getting to my feet I crept stealthilyforward. Past main and foremasts I crept, past dark store-rooms andcubby-holes, and so to a crack of light, and clapping my eye thereto,espied two fellows rolling dice and beyond them the boy, his handslashed miserably to a staple in the bulkhead, his little body writhingunder the cruel blows of a rope's-end wielded by a great, red-headedfellow.

  Now in my many desperate affrays with my fellow-slaves (thosetwo-legged beasts) I had learned that it is the first blow that tells;wherefore groping for the latch I stealthily opened the door and, orever the red-headed fellow was aware, I was upon him from behind and,giving him no chance for defence, I smote him a buffet under the earthat tumbled him against the bulkhead whence he sank to hands andknees. Then while, half-dazed, he strove to rise, I kicked him downagain, and setting my foot upon his chest, caught up the rope's-end hehad dropped and beat him therewith until he roared, until he groanedand lay writhing, face hid beneath his crossed arms. Then, whippingout my knife, I fronted his two mates, the one a doleful, bony man witha squint, the other a small, mean, black-eyed fellow in a striped shirtwho, closing one bright eye, leered at them with the other; all at oncehe nodded, and pointing from the knife in my fist to the fellowgroaning beneath my foot, drew a long thumb across his own stringythroat, and nodded again. Hereupon I stooped above my captive and setthe flat of my blade to his forehead just below his thick, red hair.

  "Look'ee, dog!" I panted, while he glared up at me beneath his bruisedarms, "Set so much as a finger on yon pitiful brat again and I'll cut amark in your gallows-face shall last your life out."

  "His throat, cully--quick's the word!" breathed a voice in my ear. Butnow as I turned and the little black-eyed fellow leapt nimbly back, wasa creaking and groaning of the ladder that led to the main-deck above,and down comes a pair of prodigious stout legs, and after these a roundbody, and last of all a great, flat face small of mouth, small of nose,and with a pair of little, quick eyes that winked and blinked betwixthairless lids.

  The fat fellow having got him down the ladder (and with wondrous easefor one of his bulk) stood winking and blinking at me the while hepatted one of his plump cheeks with plump fingers.

  "Love my limbs!" says he in soft, high-pitched voice. "Perish andplague me, but who's the friend as be a rope's-ending o' ye, Andylad--you as be cock o' the ship?" Here the fellow beneath my footessays to curse, but groans instead. "Bless my guts!" says the fatman, blinking harder than ever, "So bad as that, Andy lad? Wot then,hath this fine, upstanding cock o' cocks thrashed all the hell-firespirit out o' ye, Andy lad? Love my innards--I thought no man aboardcould do as much, Andy."

  "He jumped me from behind!" says the fellow Andy 'twixt snarl and groanand writhing under my 'prisoning feet.

  "And where," says the fat man, smiling at me, "where might you ha' comefrom, my bird o' price? The bo'sun's mate Samuel Spraggons is me,friend--Sam for short, called likewise Smiling Sam--come, come, neverscowl on Sam--nobody never quarrels with the Smiler, I'm friends wi'everyone, I am, friend."

  "Why then--loose the child!" says I.

  "Child? Ha, is't this little rogueling ye mean, friend?" As he spoke(and smiling yet) he caught the boy's ear and wrung it 'twixt viciousthumb and finger, whereon I whirled the rope's-end, but he sprang outof reach with wondrous agility and stood patting plump cheek andsmiling more kindly than ever, the while I cut the cords that bound theboy's wrists, who, with an up-flung, wondering look at me, sped awayinto the orlop and was gone.

  "Now mark ye, Spraggons," says I, "harm the child again--any of ye--andI'll beat your fat carcass to a jelly."

  "No, no!" quoth he, "you can't quarrel wi' me, the Smiler don't neverquarrel wi' none. You'd never strike Smiling Sam, friend!"

  "Stand still and see!" says I. But hereupon he retreated to the ladderand I, feeling my sickness upon me again, contented me by throwing therope's-end at the fellow and stepping out backward, clapped to thedoor. So with what speed I might I got me down into the hold and to mydog-hole. And here I saw I had left my lanthorn burning, and found inthis light strange comfort. Now being mighty athirst I reached thedemijohn from the corner and drank deep, but the good water tasted illon my parched tongue; moreover the place seemed strangely close andairless and I in great heat, wherefore I tore off my sleeved doubletand, kicking off my shoes, cast myself upon my miserable bed. But nowas I lay blinking at the lanthorn I was seized of sudden, great dread,though of what I knew not; and ever as my drowsiness increased so grewmy fear until (and all at once) I knew that the thing I dreaded wasSleep, and fain would I have started up, but, even then, sleep seizedme, and strive how I would my eyes closed and I fell into deep andfear-haunted slumber.