Wolves of the Sea - Randall Parrish
He led the way and they followed him, grumbling and cursing, but
obedient. I added a word of encouragement, and in a few minutes the
whole gang was busily engaged in clearing up the mess forward, making
use of whatever came to hand, their first fears evidently forgotten in
action. Watkins kept after them like a slave driver.
"That's the style; throw all the litter overboard. Bend your back,
Pierre; now Ole, take hold here. What the hell are you men loafing
for? Now, heave altogether."
I glanced astern, catching a fleeting glimpse beneath the main boom,
of the disappearing quarter-boat, bobbing up and down in the
distance; then my eyes sought the face of the girl. She met my gaze
with a smile.
"They are all right now, are they not?" she asked.
"Yes, as long as they can be kept busy, and I will see to that. Let's
go aft, and get out of this mess. I want to plan our voyage."
It was not difficult finding plenty for the lads to do, making the
neglected schooner shipshape, and adjusting the spread of canvas aloft
to the new course I decided upon. Fortunately we had men enough to
manipulate the sails, real seamen, able to work swiftly. Sam started a
fire in the galley, and prepared a hot meal, singing as he worked, and
before noon I had as cheerful a ship's crew forward as any man could
possibly ask for. The weather kept pleasant, but with a heavy wind
blowing, compelling us to take a reef in the canvas, but the schooner
was an excellent sea boat, and all alike felt the exhilaration of
rapid progress. Dorothy and I glanced over the log, but gained little
information. The vessel had been driven into the northwest by a
succession of storms, and lack of provisions had weakened the crew,
cholera broke out among them the third day at sea, the first victim
being the cabin steward. With no medicine chest aboard and everything
below foul, the disease spread rapidly. Within twenty-four hours
sixteen bodies were thrown overboard and, in their terror, the
remainder of the crew mutinied, and refused to work ship. Both mates
died, and finally only three men were left alive--a negro known as
Juan; the quarter-master, Gabriel Lossier, and the Captain, who was
already lying sick and helpless in the cabin. That was the last entry
barely decipherable.
As the sun reached the meridian I ventured again into the cabin, and
returned with the necessary instruments to determine our position.
With these and the pricked chart, I managed fairly well in determining
our location, and choosing the most direct course toward the coast.
Dorothy watched closely, and when I looked up from the paper, the men
were gathered about the open door of the galley, equally interested. I
ordered Watkins to send them all aft, and, as they ranged up across
the narrow deck, I spread out the chart before them, and explained, as
best I could, our situation, and what I proposed doing. I doubt if
many were able to comprehend, yet some grasped my meaning, bending
over the map and asking questions, pointing to this and that mark with
stubby forefingers. From their muttered remarks I judged their only
anxiety was to get ashore as early as possible, out of this death
ship. Convinced this was also my object, they ventured forward
cheerfully, as I rolled up the chart, and placed it in the flag
locker.
One of the Frenchmen relieved Schmitt at the wheel, and, a little
later, Sam served Dorothy and I on deck. The food was appetizing and
well cooked, and we lingered over it for some time, while Watkins
busied the men forward.
CHAPTER XXVIII
A NEW PLAN OF ESCAPE
Nothing occurred during the afternoon to disturb the routine work
aboard, or to cause me any uneasiness. The swift slaver made excellent
progress in spite of light winds, and proved easy to handle. Watkins
found enough to occupy the crew on deck and aloft, and they seemed
contented, although I noticed the fellows gathered together in groups
whenever idle, and discussed the situation earnestly. While they might
not be entirely satisfied, and, no doubt, some fear lingered in their
minds, the fellows lacked leadership for any revolt, and would remain
quiet for the present at least. I made one more trip into the desolate
cabin, returning with pipes and tobacco, which I took forward and
distributed, an ample supply for all the crew. As the men smoked,
Watkins and I leaned over the rail, and discussed the situation.
Sunset brought clouds, and, by the time it was really dark, the entire
sky was overcast, but the sea remained comparatively calm, and the
wind steady. I judged we were making in the neighborhood of nine
knots, and carefully pricked my chart to assure myself of our
position. Even at that I was not entirely satisfied, although I kept
this lack of faith hidden from the others. Dorothy, however, who kept
close beside me much of the time, must have sensed my doubt to some
extent, for once she questioned me curiously.
"Are you not sure of your figures?" she asked, glancing from the chart
into my face. "That is three times you have measured the distance."
"It is not the figures; it is the accuracy of the chart," I explained.
"It is not new, for the schooner evidently seldom made this coast, and
it was probably only by chance that they had such a map aboard. Even
the best of the charts, are not absolutely correct, and this one may
be entirely wrong. I shall rely more on keeping a careful watch
tonight than on the map; you see this cape? For all I know it may jut
out fifty miles east of where it appears to be and we might run into
shoal water at any minute."
She wrinkled her brows over the lines on the map, and then stared out
across the darkening sea, without speaking.
It was a pleasant night in spite of the darkness, the air soft, and
refreshing. We divided the men into watches, Watkins selecting the
more capable for lookouts. I explained to these the danger, and posted
them on the forecastle heads, ready to respond instantly to any call.
I could see the glow of their pipes for some time, but finally these
went out, one by one, and the growl of voices ceased. The schooner was
in darkness, except for a faint reflection from the binnacle light
aft, revealing the dim figure of the helmsman. Overhead the canvas
disappeared into the gloom of the sky.
The locker was filled with flags, representing almost every nation on
earth. Evidently the _Santa Marie_ was willing to fly any colors,
which would insure safety, or allay suspicion in her nefarious trade.
I dragged these out, and spread them on the deck abaft the cabin, thus
forming a very comfortable bed, and at last induced the girl to lie
down, wrapping her in a blanket. But, although she reclined there, and
rested, she was in no mood for sleep, and, whenever my restless
wandering brought me near I was made aware of her wakefulness. Finally
I found a seat beside her on a coil of rope, and we fell into
conversation, which must have lasted for an hour or more.
I shall never forget that dark ship's deck, with no sound breaking the
silence except the soft swirl of water alongside, the occasional flap
of canvas aloft, and the creak of the wheel. Dorothy was but a
shrouded figure, as she sat wrapped in her blanket, and the only other
object visible was the dim outline of the helmsman. We seemed to be
completely shut in between sea and sky, lost and forgotten. Yet the
memory of the tragedy this vessel had witnessed remained with me--the
helpless slaves who had suffered and died between decks; the dead
sailors in the forecastle, their ghastly faces staring up at the beams
above, and the horrible figure of Paradilla outstretched on the cabin
divan. I was a sailor and could not feel that any good fortune would
come to us from such a death ship. The memory brought to me a
depression hard to throw off; yet, for her sake I pretended a
cheerfulness I was far from feeling, and our conversation drifted idly
into many channels.
This was the first opportunity we had enjoyed to actually talk with
each other alone, and gradually our thoughts veered from the
happenings of the strange voyage, and our present predicament, to
those personal matters in which we were peculiarly interested. I know
not how it occurred, for what had passed between us in the open boat
seemed more like a dream than a reality, yet my hand found her own
beneath the blanket, and I dared to whisper the words my lips could no
longer restrain.
"Dorothy," I said humbly, "you were frightened last night. I cannot
hold you to what you said to me then."
"You mean you do not wish to? But I was not frightened."
"They were honest words? You have not regretted them since?"
"No, Geoffry. Perhaps they were not maidenly, yet were they honest;
why should I not have told you the truth? I have long known my own
heart, and yours, as well."
"And you still repeat what you said then?"
"Perhaps I do not remember all I said."
"I can never forget--you said, 'I love you.'"
She drew a quick breath, and for an instant remained silent; then her
courage conquered.
"Yes, I can repeat that--I love you."
"Those are dear, dear words; but I ought not to listen to them, or
believe. I am not free to ask a pledge of you, or to beg you to trust
me in marriage."
"Is not that rather for me to decide?" she questioned archly. "I give
you my faith, Geoffry, and surely no girl ever had more reason to know
the heart of a man than I. You have risked all to serve me, and I
would be ungrateful indeed were I insensible of the sacrifice. Yet do
not think that is all--gratitude for what you have done. I did not
need that to teach me your nature. I make a confession now. You
remember the night I met you on deck, when you were a prisoner, and
told you that you had become the property of Roger Fairfax?"
"I could never forget."
"Nor I. I loved you then, although I scarcely acknowledged the truth
even to myself. I went back to my berth to lie awake, and think until
morning. A new world had come to me, and when the dawn broke, I knew
what it all meant--that my heart was yours. I cared nothing because
you were a prisoner, a bound slave under sentence. We are all alike,
we Fairfax's; we choose for ourselves, and laugh at the world. That is
my answer, Geoffry Carlyle; I give you love for love."
"'Tis a strange place for such a pledge, with only hope before us."
"A fit place to my mind in memory of our life together thus far, for
all the way it has been stress and danger. And what more can we ask
than hope?"
"I would ask an opportunity denied me--to stand once more in honor
among men. I would not be shamed before Dorothy Fairfax."
"Nor need you be," she exclaimed impetuously, her hands pressing mine.
"You wrong yourself, even as you have been wronged. You have already
done that which shall win you freedom, if it be properly presented to
those in power. I mean that it shall be, once I am safely back in
Virginia. Tell me, what are your plans with--with this schooner?"
"To beach it somewhere along shore, and leave it there a wreck, while
we escape."
"I suspected as much--yet, is that the best way?"
"The only way which has occurred to me. The men insist on it with good
reason. They have been pirates, and might be hung if caught."
"And yet to my mind," she insisted earnestly, "that choice is most
dangerous. I am a girl, but if I commanded here, do you know what I
would do?"
"I shall be glad to hear."
"I would sail this vessel straight to the Chesapeake, and surrender it
to the authorities. The men have nothing to fear with me aboard, and
ready to testify in their behalf. The Governor will accept my word
without a question. These men are not pirates, but honest seamen
compelled to serve in order to save their lives; they mutinied and
captured the bark, but were later overcome, and compelled to take the
boats. The same plea can be made for you, Geoffry, only you were there
in an effort to save me. It is a service which ought to win you
freedom."
"But if it does not?"
"I pledge you my word it shall. If the Governor fail me, I will bear
my story to the feet of the King. I am a Fairfax, and we have friends
in England, strong, powerful friends. They will listen, and aid me."
"I am convinced," I admitted, after a pause, "that this course is the
wiser one, but fear the opposition of the men. They will never go
willingly."
"There is an argument which will overcome their fear."
"You mean force?" "No; although I doubt not that might suffice. I
mean cupidity. Each sailor, aboard has an interest in the salvage of
this vessel under the English law. You tell me the schooner was a
slaver, driven out to sea by storm immediately after discharging a
cargo of slaves. There must be gold aboard--perhaps treasure also, for
I cannot think a slaver above piracy if chance arose. Let the crew
dream that dream, and you will need no whip to drive them into an
English port."
"Full pardon, and possibly wealth with it," I laughed. "A beautiful
scheme, Dorothy, yet it might work. Still, if I know sailormen, they
would doubt the truth, if it came direct from me, for I am not really
one of them."
"But Watkins is, and he has intelligence. Explain it all to him; tell
him who I am, the influence I can wield in the Colony, and then let
him whisper the news to the others. Will you not do this--for my
sake?"
"Yes," I answered, "I believe you have found the right course. If you
will promise to lie down, and sleep, I will talk with Watkins now."
"I promise. But are you not going to rest?"
"Very little tonight. I may catch some catnaps before morning, but
most of the time shall be prowling about deck. You see I have no
officers to rely upon. But don't worry about me--this sort of life is
not new. Good night, dear girl."
She extended her arms, and drew me down until our lips met.
"You are actually afraid of me still," she said wonderingly, "why
should you be?"
"I cannot tell; I have never known what it was before. Somehow
Dorothy, you have always seemed so far away from me, I have never
been able to forget. But now the touch of your lips has----"
"Broken down the last barrier?"
"Yes, forever."
"Are you sure? Would you not feel still less doubt if you kissed me
again?"
I held her closely, gazing down into the dimly revealed outline of her
face, and this time felt myself the master.
"Now I am sure, sweetheart," I whispered, the note of joy ringing in
the words, "that I have won the most precious gift in the world; yet
your safety, and those of all on board is in my hands tonight. I must
not forget that. I am going now to find Watkins, and you have promised
to lie down and sleep."
"To lie down," she corrected, "but whether to sleep, I cannot tell."
I left her there, lying hidden and shapeless on the deck beneath the
cover of the blanket, her head pillowed on the flags, and groped my
own way forward, pausing a moment to gaze into the binnacle, and
exchange a word with the man at the wheel. I found Watkins awake,
seated on the forecastle steps, where I joined him, lighting my own
pipe for companionship, our conversation gradually drifting toward the
point I came to make. He listened gravely to what I had to say, with
little comment, and was evidently weighing every argument in his mind.
"I've bin in Virginia, and Maryland, sir," he said at last seriously,
"and if the young woman is a Fairfax, she'll likely have influence
enough ter do just whut she says. They ain't over-kind ter pirates in
them provinces o' late, I've bin told--but the savin' o' her life wud
make a heap o' difference with the Governor. Yer know she's a
Fairfax?"
"Absolutely. I told you the story that night in the forecastle, and I
take more risk than any of you in giving myself up. I was bound in
servitude to her uncle, Roger Fairfax, and am therefore a runaway
slave."
"Well," he agreed, "I'll talk it over with the lads. It's a good
story, an' I'd be ready ter take chances, but I ain't so sure, sir, on
makin' 'em feel the same way. All most of 'em think about is ter
escape bein' hanged. If they wus only sure thar wus treasure aboard,
like you suspicion there may be, I guess most of 'em would face hell
ter git their hands on a share of it."
"Then why not search, and see?"
He shook his head obstinately, and his face, showing in the dull glow
of the pipe, proved that he, sturdy, intelligent seaman as he was,
shared to no small extent the fears of the others.
"Not me, sir; I don't prowl around in no cholera ship, loaded with
dead men--not if I never git rich."
"Then I will," and I got to my feet in sudden determination. "You keep
the deck while I go below. Have you seen a lantern on board anywhere?"
"Ay, sir, there's one hangin' in the cook's galley. I hope yer don't
think I'm a damn coward, Mr. Carlyle?"
"Oh, no, Tom. I know how you feel exactly; we're both of us sailors.
But you see I've got to make this crew take the _Santa Marie_ into the
Chesapeake, and it's an easier job if I can find gold aboard."
"Yer've got to, sir?"
"Yes, I've given my promise to the girl. Light the lantern, and bring
it here. Then we'll go aft together; if there is any specie hidden
aboard this hooker, it will be either in the cabin, or lazaret. And,
whether there is, or not, my man, the _Santa Marie_ turns north
tomorrow, if I have to fight every sea wolf on board single-handed."
CHAPTER XXIX
A STRUGGLE IN THE DARK
He came back with it swinging in his hand a mere tin box, containing a
candle, the dim flame visible through numerous punctures. It promised
poor guidance enough, yet emitted sufficient light to show the way
around in that darkness below. So as not to arouse suspicion, I
wrapped the thing in a blanket, and, with Watkins beside me, started
aft. Dorothy must have been asleep already, for there was no sign of
movement as we passed where she was lying. Neither of us spoke until
my hand was on the companion door ready to slide it open.
"I'll not be long below," I said soberly. "And meanwhile you keep a
sharp watch on deck. Better go forward and see that your lookout men
are awake, and then come back here. Likely I'll have a story to tell
you by that time. The wind seems lessening."
"Yes, sir; shall we shake out a reef in the foresail?"
"Not yet, Watkins. Wait until I learn what secret is below. An hour
will make little difference."
With the lantern held before me, its faint light barely piercing the
intense darkness, I stood on the first step leading down into the
cabin, and slid the door back into place behind me. I had no sense of
fear, yet felt a nervous tension to which I was scarcely accustomed.
For the instant I hesitated to descend into the gloom of that
interior. The constant nerve strain under which I had labored for days
and nights, made me shrink from groping blindly forward, searching for
the unknown. The very darkness seemed haunted, and I could not drive
from my memory the figure of that dead Captain, whose life had ended
there. It even seemed to me I could smell foulness in the air; that I
was breathing in cholera. Yet I drove this terror from me with a
laugh, remembering the open ports through which the fresh wind was
blowing; and cursing myself for a fool, began the descent, guided by
the flickering rays of light.
I was conscious of a quickening pulse, as I peered about me in the
gloom, every article of furniture assuming grotesque form. The
rustling of a bit of cloth over one of the open ports caused me to
face about suddenly, while every creak of the vessel seemed the echo
of a human voice. A blanket in the form of a roll lay on the divan
where I had found Captain Paradilla, and for a moment, as I stared at
it, dimly visible in a ray of light, I imagined this was his
motionless figure. Indeed, I was so strung up, it required all my
reserve of courage to persevere, and traverse the black deck. My mind
was fixed on a great chest in the Captain's stateroom, which, finding
locked, I had not disturbed on my former visit. But first I explored
the steward's pantry, in search of knife or hatchet. I found the
latter, and, with it tucked into my belt, felt my way aft. It may have
required five minutes to pry open the chest, and the reward was
scarcely worth the effort. The upper tray contained nothing but
clothing, and beneath this were books, and nautical instruments, with
a bag of specie tucked into one corner, together with a small packet
of letters. I opened the sack, finding therein a strange collection of
coins, mostly Spanish, estimating the total roughly at possibly five
hundred English pounds. Either this was Paradilla's private purse, or
money kept on hand to meet the expenses of the voyage. I searched the
room thoroughly, discovering nothing, finally concluding that if there
was treasure on board, it must be concealed elsewhere. I did find,
however, that which strengthened my suspicion, for, in rummaging
hastily through a drawer of the rude desk, I came upon a bill of sale
for a thousand slaves, dated two weeks before, but unsigned, although
the parties mentioned within the document were Paradilla and a
merchant of Habana, named Carlos Martinos. This would evidence the
sale for cash of the late cargo of the _Santa Marie_--a goodly
sum--but, whether the amount had been left ashore remained undecided.
Only a careful search of the vessel could determine this.
However, this discovery nerved me to press forward with my
exploration. All fear and dread had left me, and I went at the task
coolly enough, and with a clear purpose. There remained aft two places
unvisited--the lazaret and the port stateroom, which I had not
previously entered, because of a locked door. I determined on breaking
in here first, suspecting its use as a storeroom. There was no key in
the lock, and the stout door resisted my efforts. Placing the lantern
on the deck I succeeded finally in inserting the blade of the hatchet
so as to gain a purchase sufficient to release the latch. As the door
yielded, the hinges creaking dismally, a sharp cry, human in its
agony, assailed me from within. It came forth so suddenly, and with so
wild an accent, I stepped blindly backward in fright, my foot
overturning the lantern, which, with a single flicker of candle went
out. In that last gleam I saw a form--either of man, or boy--a dim,
grotesque outline, fronting me. Then, in the darkness gleamed two
green, menacing eyes, growing steadily larger, nearer, as I stared at
them in horror. I could not move; I seemed paralyzed; I doubt if I
even breathed in that first moment of overwhelming terror. Another
cry, like that of a mad person, struck my ears, and I knew the thing
was coming toward me. There was no other sound, no footstep on the
deck; I merely felt the approach, realizing the increasing glare of
those horrible eyes. They seemed to fascinate, to hold me immovable,
the blood chilled in my veins. Was it man or beast? Devil from hell,
or some crazed human against whom I must battle for life? The green
eyes glared into my face; I could even feel the hot breath of the
monster. I lifted my hand toward him, and touched--hair!
Even as the creature's grip caught me, ripping through jacket sleeve
to the flesh, I knew what my antagonist was--a giant African ape.
Horrible as the reality was, I was no longer paralyzed with fear,
helpless before the unknown. This was something real, something to
grasp, and struggle against, a beast with which to pit strength and
skill. The sting of the claws maddened me, brought me instantly to
life, and I drove my hatchet straight between those two gleaming eyes.
I know not how it struck, but the brute staggered back dragging me
with him in the clutch of his claws. His human-like cry of pain ended
in a brutal snarl, but, brief as the respite proved, it gave me grip
on his under jaw, and an opportunity to drive my weapon twice more
against the hairy face. The pain served only to madden the beast, and,
before I could wrench free, he had me clutched in an iron grip, my
jacket torn into shreds. His jaws snapped at my face, but I had such
purchase as to prevent their touching me, and mindless of the claws
tearing at my flesh, I forced the animal's head back until the neck
cracked, and the lips gave vent to a wild scream of agony. I dared not
let go; dared not relax for an instant the exercise of every ounce of
strength. I felt as though the life was being squeezed out of me by
the grasp of those hairy arms; yet the very vice in which I was held
yielded me leverage. The hatchet dropped to the deck, and both hands
found lodgment under the jaw, the muscles of my arms strained to the
utmost, as I forced back that horrid head. Little by little it gave
way, the suffering brute whining in agony, until, the pain becoming
unendurable, the clinging arms, suddenly released their hold, letting
me drop heavily to the deck.
By some good fortune I fell upon the discarded hatchet, and stumbled
to my feet once more, gripping the weapon again in my fingers. I stood
trembling, breathing hard, my flesh burning, peering about. The
darkness revealed nothing, yet I knew I had been dragged within the
stateroom, from which there was no escape, as I had lost all sense of
direction. For an instant I could not even locate the brute. With an
intense desire to escape, to place the door safely between me and my
antagonist, I felt blindly about in the black void. Silently as I
endeavored to move, I must have been overheard by the beast, for
suddenly his jaws snapped savagely, and I saw once again the baneful
glow of those horrible eyes. I knew enough of wild life to realize
that now the ape feared me, and that my safer course was to attack.
Acting on this impulse, determined to have an end, before he could
grip me once more in those awful arms, and crush me into
unconsciousness, I sprang straight toward him, sending the sharp blade
of the hatchet crashing against the skull. The aim was good, the
stroke a death blow, yet the monster got me with one jaw, and we fell
to the deck together, he savagely clawing me in his death agony. Then
the hairy figure quivered, and lay motionless. With barely strength
enough for the task, I released the stiffening grip, and crept aside,
rising to my knees, only to immediately pitch forward unconscious. It
seemed to me as I went down that I heard voices, saw lights flashing
in the outer cabin, but all these merged instantly into blackness.