CHAPTER TWO.
When Antonio Zeppa recovered consciousness, he found himself lying on amattress in the schooner's hold, bound, bleeding, and with a dull anddreadful sense of pain at his breast, which at first he could notaccount for. Ere long the sudden plash of a wave on the vessel's siderecalled his mind to his bereavement; and a cry--loud, long, andterrible--arose from the vessel's hold, which caused even the stoutestand most reckless heart on board to quail.
Richard Rosco--now a pirate captain--heard it as he sat alone in hiscabin, his elbows resting on the table, and his white face buried in hishands. He did not repent--he could not repent; at least so he said tohimself while the fires kindled by a first great crime consumed him.
Men do not reach the profoundest depths of wickedness at one bound. Thedescent is always graduated--for there are successive rounds to theladder of sin--but it is sometimes awfully sudden. When young Roscoleft England he had committed only deeds which men are apt lightly toname the "follies" of youth. These follies, however, had proved to beterrible leaks through which streams of corruption had flowed in uponhis soul. Still, he had no thought of becoming a reckless or heartlessman, and would have laughed to scorn any one who should have hinted thathe would ever become an outlaw and a pirate. But oppression boreheavily on his hasty, ill-disciplined temper, and now the lowest roundof the ladder had been reached.
Even in this extremity he did not utterly give way. He would not becomean out-and-out pirate. He would merely go forth as a plunderer torevenge himself on the world which had used him so ill. He would rob--but he would not kill; except of course in self-defence, or when menrefused to give up what he demanded. He would temper retributivejustice with mercy, and would not suffer injury to women or children.In short, he would become a semi-honourable, high-minded sort of pirate,pursuing wealth without bloodshed! True, in the sad case of poorOrlando, he had not managed to steer clear of murder; but then that deedwas done without his orders or knowledge. If his comrades in crime hadagreed, he would have preferred some sort of smuggling career; but theywould not listen to that, so he had at last consented to hoist the blackflag.
While the wretched youth was endeavouring to delude himself and gathercrumbs of comfort from such thoughts as these, the awful cry from theship's hold again rang out, and as his thoughts reverted to the bereavedfather, and the fair, light-hearted little mother on Ratinga Island, thedeadly pallor that overspread his countenance was intensified.
Rising hastily--with what intent he himself hardly knew--he proceeded tothe hold. It was broad day at the time, and sufficient light penetratedthe place to reveal the figure of Antonio Zeppa crouching on hismattress, with his chin upon his knees, his handsome face disfiguredwith the blood that had dried upon it, and a wild, fierce light gleamingin his eyes.
He did not speak or move when Rosco entered and sat down on the head ofa cask near him.
"Zeppa," he said, with intense earnestness, "as God shall be my judge, Idid not mean to--to--throw--to do this to your boy. It was done withoutmy knowledge."
"Hah!" burst from the stricken father; but nothing more, while hecontinued to gaze in the pirate captain's face.
"Indeed it is true," continued Rosco hurriedly. "I had no intention ofletting murder be done. I would not even slay the captain who has usedme so ill. I would give my life if I could alter it now--but I cannot."
"Hah!" gasped Zeppa again, still keeping his eyes fixed on Rosco's face.
"Don't look at me that way," pleaded the pirate, "as if I had done thedeed. You know I didn't. I swear I didn't! If I had been there, Iwould have saved Orlando at the cost of--"
He was interrupted at this point by the repetition of the cry which hadbefore reached him in the cabin; but how much more awful did thatdespairing cry sound near at hand, as it issued full, deep-toned, andstrong, from the chest of the Herculean man! There was a difference init also this time--it terminated in a wild, fiendish fit of laughter,which caused Rosco to shrink back appalled; for now he knew that heconfronted a maniac!
For some minutes the madman and the pirate sat gazing at each other insilent horror. Then the latter rose hastily and turned to leave thehold. As he did so, the madman sprang towards him, but he was checkedby the chains which bound him, and fell heavily on the deck.
Returning to the cabin, Rosco went to a locker and took out a casebottle, from which he poured half a tumbler of brandy and drank it.Then he summoned the man who had been appointed his second in command.
"Redford," he said, assuming, by a mighty effort of self-restraint acalm tone and manner, "you told me once of a solitary island lying along way to the south of the Fiji group. D'you think you could lay ourcourse for it?"
"I'm sure I could, sir; but it is very much out of the way of commerce,and--"
"There is much sandal-wood on it, is there not?" asked Rosco,interrupting him.
"Ay, sir, plenty of that, an' plenty of fierce natives too, who willgive us a warm reception. I would--"
"So much the better," returned the captain, with a cynical smile, againinterrupting; "we may be able to obtain a load of valuable wood fornothing, and get rid of our cowards at the same time. Go, lay ourcourse for--what's the island's name?"
"I don't know its right name, sir; but we call it Sugar-loaf Island fromthe shape of one end of it."
"That will do. And hark ye, friend, when I give orders or ask questionsin future, don't venture to offer advice or raise objections. Let thecrew understand that we must be able to pass for lawful traders, andthat a load of sandal-wood will answer our purpose well enough. It willbe your wisdom, also, to bear in mind that discipline is as useful onboard a Free Rover as on board a man-of-war, and that there is only oneway to maintain it."
The pirate captain pointed to a brace of pistols that lay on the tablebeside him, and said, "Go."
Redford went, without uttering another word. His was one of thosecoarse natures which are ever ready to presume and take advantage whenthere is laxity in discipline, but which are not difficult to subdue bya superior will. He forthwith spread the report that the new captainwas a "stiff un," a fact which nearly all the men were rather glad thanotherwise to hear.
For some days after leaving Ratinga a stiff breeze enabled theschooner--which had been re-named by its crew the "Free Rover"--toproceed southward rapidly. Then a profound calm succeeded, and for acouple of days the vessel lay almost motionless on the sea.
During all this time the poor maniac in her hold lay upon hisblood-stained couch, for no one dared--at least no one cared--toapproach him. At meal times the cook pushed a plate of food within hisreach. He usually took no notice of this until, hunger constrained himto devour a little, almost savagely. No word would he speak, but moanedcontinually without intermission, save when, in a burst ofuncontrollable anguish, he gave vent to the terrible cry which soweighed on the spirits of the men, that they suggested to each other thepropriety of throwing the father overboard after the son. Redford'sreport of his interview with the captain, however, prevented thesuggestion being acted on.
It is possible that the two tremendous blows which Zeppa had receivedduring the mutiny may have had something to do with his madness; butthere can be no doubt that the intense mutual affection which hadsubsisted between him and his only child, and the sudden and awfulmanner of that child's end, were of themselves sufficient to account forit.
For Orlando had been all that a father could wish; loving, gentle,tender, yet lion-like and courageous in action, with a powerful framelike that of his father, and a modest, cheerful spirit like that of hismother. No wonder that both parents doted on him as their noblestterrestrial gift from God.
"And now," thought the crushed man, as he crouched on his mattress inthe hold, "he is gone,--snatched away before my eyes, suddenly and _forever_!"
It was when this thought recurred, again and again, that the cry ofagony burst from him, but it was invariably succeeded by the thought,"No, not _for ever_. Orlando is with the Lor
d. We shall see him again,Marie and I, when we reach the better land."
And then Zeppa would laugh lightly, but the laugh would merge again intothe bitter cry, as the thought would recur persistently--"gone--gone--for ever!"
Oh! it was pitiful to see the strong man thus reduced, and reasondethroned; and terrible were the pangs endured by the pirate chief as heheard and saw; but he had now schooled himself to accept what he calledhis "fate," and was able to maintain a calm, indifferent demeanourbefore his men. Of course he never for a moment, during all that time,thought of crying to God for mercy, for as long as a man continues toascribe his sins and their consequences to "fate," he is a rampant andwilful, besides being an unphilosophical, rebel against his Maker.
At last, one afternoon, the peak of Sugar-loaf Island was descried onthe horizon, close to where the sun was descending amid a world ofgolden clouds.
"Which side is the best for landing on!" asked the captain of his mate.
"The southern end, sir, which is steep and uninhabited," said Redford.
In half an hour they were under the shelter of the cliffs close to acreek, at the inner end of which there was a morsel of flat beach.Beyond this lay a richly wooded piece of land, which seemed to beconnected with a gorge among the hills.
"Lower the boat" said Rosco. "Have three men ready, and, when I call,send them to the hold."
He descended as he spoke, and approached Zeppa, who looked at him withunmistakable ferocity.
"You are going on shore," he said to the poor madman, who seemed neitherto comprehend nor to care for what he said.
"Once again," continued Rosco, after a pause, "I tell you that I had nohand in the death of your son. My men, if they had their way, wouldsoon treat you as they treated him. They want to get rid of you, so, tosave your life, I must send you on shore. It is an island--inhabited.I hope the natives will prove friendly to you. I hope you will getwell--in time. Do you understand what I say?"
Zeppa neither spoke nor moved, but continued to glare at the man whom heevidently regarded as his deadliest foe.
A touch of pity seemed to influence the pirate captain, for he added ina softer tone, "I would have taken you with me, if it had been possible,and landed you on Ratinga. Perhaps that may yet be done. At any rate Iwill return to this island--we shall meet again."
At last the madman spoke, in a harsh, grating tone,--"If we meet again,you shall die!"
"I will do my best to avoid that fate," returned Rosco, with a touch ofsarcasm. "Ho! lads! come down."
Three powerful seamen, who had stood at the hatchway awaiting thesummons, descended, and at once laid hold of Zeppa. To their surprise,he made no resistance. To every one but the captain he behaved liked alamb. Having been placed in the bottom of the boat alongside, with hishands still bound, they shoved off, and Rosco, taking the tiller,steered for the little creek.
The instant the keel touched the land two of the men jumped out andhauled the boat ashore. The others assisted Zeppa to land. They ledhim to a grassy bank, and bade him sit down. He obeyed meekly, and satthere gazing at the ground as if unable to comprehend what was beingdone. Rosco remained in the boat while a small box of biscuit wasconveyed to the spot and left at the side of Zeppa.
Then, removing his bonds, the men re-embarked and returned to theschooner, which soon left that part of the island far astern. While itreceded, the pirate captain kept his glass fixed on the wretched manwhom he had thus forsaken. He saw that Zeppa never once turned his headseaward, but, after gazing in a state of abstraction at the ground forsome time, rose and sauntered slowly inland. He did not appear toobserve the small supply of provision left for his use. With his chinsunk upon his breast and his hands clasped behind him, he appeared towander aimlessly forward until his tall figure was lost to view amongthe palm-groves that fringed the bottom of the mountain.
Leaving him there, we shall turn now to poor Orlando, who had beentossed so unceremoniously into the sea. Probably the reader is awarethat the water of the southern seas is, in many parts, so much warmerthan that of our northern climes, that people may remain in it for hourswithout being chilled. Hence natives of the coral islands are almostamphibious, and our young hero, having spent much of his life amongthese islands, could swim for the greater part of a day without becomingexhausted.
When, therefore, he caught hold of the life-preserver, as stated in thelast chapter, he clung to it with some degree of confidence; but bydegrees the depressing influence of continued darkness began to tellupon him, and he became less and less hopeful of deliverance. Hebethought him of the great distance they had sailed from Ratinga beforethe mutiny broke out, and the utter impossibility of his being able toswim back. Then he thought of sharks, and a nervous tendency to draw uphis legs and yell out affected him. But the thought of his father, andof the probable fate that awaited him, at length overbore all otherconsiderations, and threw the poor boy into such a state of despair,that he clung to the life-preserver for a long time in a state ofsemi-stupor.
At last the day dawned faintly in the east and the glorious sun arose,and Orley's heart was cheered. From earliest infancy he had been taughtto pray, so you may be sure he did not fail at this crisis in his younglife. But no answer was returned to his prayer until a great part ofthe weary day had passed, and he had begun to look forward with dread tothe approaching night.
As evening advanced, exhaustion began to creep over him, and more thanonce he felt himself slipping from his support under the influence ofsleep. The struggle to retain consciousness now became terrible. Hefought the battle in many ways. Sometimes he tried to shake himself upby shouting. Then he again had recourse to prayer, in a loud voice.Once he even attempted to sing, but his heart failed him, and at last hecould do nothing but grasp the life-buoy and cling with all the tenacityof despair. And, oh! what thoughts of his mother came over him then!It seemed as if every loving act and look of hers was recalled to hismind. How he longed to clasp her once more in his arms and kiss herbefore he died!
While these thoughts were gradually taking the form of a hazy dream, hewas rudely aroused by something grasping his hair.
Sharks, of course, leaped to his mind, and he struggled round with awild gurgling shriek, for the grasp partially sank him. Then he felthimself violently dragged upwards, and his eyes encountered the darkface and glittering eye-balls of a savage.
Then was Orley's cry of fear turned into a shout of joy, for in thatdark countenance he recognised the face of a friend. A canoe full ofRatinga natives had nearly run him down. They had been absent on anexpedition, and were alike ignorant of the visit of the Free Rover andthe departure of Antonio Zeppa.
Their astonishment at finding Orlando in such a plight was only equalledby their curiosity to know how he had come there; but they werecompelled to exercise patience, for the poor boy, overcome by mingledjoy and exhaustion, fell back in a swoon almost as soon as he was hauledout of the water.
Need we describe the state into which poor Madame Zeppa was thrown whenOrlando returned to her?--the strange mingling of grief and terribleanxiety about her husband's fate, with grateful joy at the restorationof her son? We think not!
Ebony, the faithful and sable servitor of the family, got hold ofOrlando as soon as his poor mother would let him go, and hurried him offto a certain nook in the neighbouring palm-grove where he was wont toretire at times for meditation.
"You's quite sure yous fadder was not shooted?" he began, in gaspinganxiety, when he had forced the boy down on a grassy bank.
"I think not," replied Orley, with a faint smile at the negro'seagerness. "But you must remember that I was almost unconscious fromthe blow I received, and scarce knew what was done."
"But you no hear no shootin'?" persisted Ebony.
"No; and if any shots had been fired, I feel certain I should have heardand remembered them."
"Good! den der's a chance yous fadder's alive, for if de no hab shootedhim at first, de no hab de heart to shoot him arter
wards. No, he'dsmile away der wikitness; de _couldn'_ do it."
Orlando was unable to derive much comfort from this sanguine view of theinfluence of his father's smile--bright and sweet though he knew it tobe--yet with the energy of youth he grasped at any straw of hope heldout to him. All the more that Ebony's views were emphatically backed upby the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, both of whom asserted that Zeppa hadnever failed in anything he had ever undertaken, and that it wasimpossible he should fail now. Thus encouraged, Orlando returned hometo comfort his mother.