CHAPTER XIII. IT BREEZES UP
After I had taken off my waistcoat, I went out into the
'tweendecks, then into the grand cabin, then into the space below
the booms. He followed me everywhere, keeping me under
observation, till I was tempted to tell him where the letters
were, so as to have a little peace. At first he kept telling me
stories, or making bad jokes; but very soon he grew weary of
pretending; he became surly. At this point I asked him which was
his cabin. He glowered at me for asking such a question, but he
pointed it out to me. It was a cabin no larger than my own, on
the opposite (that is the port) side of the 'tweendecks. I took
the opportunity (it was a bold stroke, evidently displeasing to
him) of looking in; for to tell the truth I had a suspicion that
he slept in the grand cabin, on the top of the locker. I thought
that the stateroom had another inmate. When I looked into it I
expected to find myself in Aurelia's presence. I did not want to
see her; but I wished very eagerly to know if she were in the
ship or not. The stateroom was empty, but the bunk, which had
been slept in, was not yet made up.
I do not know how much longer he would have dogged me about the
ship. To my great joy he was called from me by the mate, who
cried down the hatchway, bidding him come up at once, as there
was "something in sight." Captain Barlow evidently wanted me to
come on deck with him; but I was resolute. I said I would stop
below to have another try at his stories. He went on deck
surlily, saying something about "You wait," or "You whelp," I
could not catch his exact words. He turned at the hatchway to see
where I had gone. I had expected this move, so when he looked, he
saw me entering the grand cabin, just as I had said. I watched
him through the crack in the hinge; for I fully expected him to
return suddenly. As he did not return on the instant, I darted
into my own cabin just long enough to drop the letter cartridges
into an old tin slush-pot which was stowed in the locker below
the bunk. I had noted it in the early morning when I had done my
sewing. I pressed the cartridges into the slush, till they were
all hidden. In another instant of time the pot was back in the
locker among the other oddments while I was back in the cabin
hard at work at my sermons. I was conscious that the captain
glanced through the skylight at me. No doubt what he saw
reassured him. For the moment I felt perfectly safe.
About half an hour later, I heard a great noise of hauling on
deck, followed by the threshing of our sails, as though they had
suddenly come aback. I knew enough of the sea to know that if we
were tacking there would be other orders, while, if the helmsman
had let the ship come aback by accident I should have heard the
officers rating him. I heard neither nor orders; something else
was happening. A glance out of the stern windows showed me that
the ship was no longer under way. She was not moving through the
water. It struck me that I had better go on deck to see what was
the matter. When I reached the deck I found that the barquentine
was hove-to (that is, held motionless by a certain arrangement of
the sails) about half a mile from a small full-rigged ship which
had hove-to likewise. The barquentine's boat was rapidly pulling
towards this full-rigged ship, with Captain Barlow sitting in the
stern-sheets. The ship was a man-of-war; for she flew the St.
George's banner, as well as a pennant. Her guns were pointing
through her ports, eight bright brass guns to a broadside. She
was waiting there, heaving in huge stately heaves, for Captain
Barlow's message.
Now I had had alarms enough since I entered the Duke's service;
but I confess this sight of the man-of-war daunted me worse than
any of them. I knew that Captain Barlow had stopped her, so that
he might hand over my letters to her captain; that was easily
guessed The next question was, would the captain insist on taking
the messenger to be examined in person. It was that which scared
me worst. I had heard frightful tales about political prisoners.
They were shut up in the Tower dungeons, away below the level of
the Thames. They were examined there by masked magistrates who
wrung the truth from them by the "bootikins," which squeezed the
feet, or by the thumbscrews, which twisted the thumbs. My feet
seemed to grow red-hot when I thought of that horror. I knew only
too well that my youth would not save me. James the Second was
never moved by pity towards a beaten enemy. I watched the arrival
of the boat at the ship's side, with the perspiration running
down my face. I began to understand, now, what was meant by the
words high treason. I saw all the majesty of the English Navy,
all the law, all the noble polity of England, arrayed to judge a
boy to death, for a five minutes' prank. They would drag me on a
hurdle to Tyburn, as soon as torture had made me tell my tale.
But enough of my state of mind. I saw Captain Barlow go up the
ship's gangway, where an officer no doubt received him. Very soon
afterwards he came down the gangway again, half followed by some
one who seemed to be ordering him. His boat then shoved off for
the barquentine. The man-of-war got under way again by swinging
her great mainyard smartly about. The smother at her bows gleamed
whiter at the very instant, as she gathered way. It was a blessed
sight to me, after my suspense, I assure you; but I did not
understand it till later. I learned later on that Captain Barlow
was one of a kind of men very common in those troublous times. He
was hedging, or trimming. He was quite willing to make money by
selling the Duke's plans to the King; but he had the sense to see
that the Duke's party might succeed, in which case the King's
favour would not be worth much. So his treason to the Duke
stopped short of the betrayal of men attached in any way to the
Monmouth party. He would betray letters, when he could lay his
hands on them unobserved; but he was not going to become an open
enemy to the Duke until he knew that the Duke's was the losing
side; then he would betray men fast enough. Until then, he would
receive the trust of both factions, in order to betray a portion
of the confidence received from them.
The day dragged by for me somehow, uncomfortably, under the
captain's eye. It was one of the longest days I have ever known.
It sickened me utterly of the life of adventure to which I now
seemed pledged. I vowed that if I had the chance I would write to
my uncle from Mr. Blick's house, begging to be received back.
That seemed to be the only way of escape possible to me. It did
not seem hopeful; but it gave me some solace to think of it. I
longed to be free from these terrors. You don't know what an
adventurous life is. I will tell you. It is a life of sordid
unquiet, pursued without plan, like the life of an animal. Have
you seen a dog trying to cross a busy street? There is the
adventurer. Or the rabbit on the cliff, in his state of continual
panic; he, too, lives the adventurous life. What does the world
owe to the adventurer? But there. I become impatient. One patient
hero in his garret is worth all these silly fireworks put
together.
One thing more happened on that day. The breeze freshened all the
afternoon till by bedtime it blew what is called a fresh gale.
Captain Barlow drove his ship till she shook to her centre, not
because he liked (like many sailors) to show his vessel's paces;
but because he sat at his bottle too long after dinner. He was
half drunk by supper time, too drunk to take the sail off her, so
we drove on down Channel, trusting to the goodness of the gear.
There would have been a pretty smash-up if we had had to alter
our course hurriedly. As it was we were jumping like a young
colt, in a welter of foam, with two men at the tiller, besides a
gang on the tackles. I never knew any ship to bound about so
wildly. I passed the evening after supper on deck, enjoying the
splendour of that savage leaping rush down Channel, yet just a
little nervous at the sight of our spars buckling under the
strain. The captain was drunk before dark; we could hear him
banging the table with his bottle. The mate, who was on the poop
with me, kept glancing from the spars to the skylight; he was
getting frightened at the gait we were going. "Young man," he
said, "d'ye know the sailor's catechism?"
"No, sir," I answered. "Well," he said, "it's short but sweet,
like a ration of rum. What is the complete duty of a sailorman?
You don't know? It's this. OBEY ORDERS, IF YOU BREAK OWNERS. My
orders are not to take off sail till Mr. drunken Barlow sees fit.
You'll see a few happenings aloft just now if he don't see fit
soon." Just at that instant she gave a lurch which sent one of
the helmsmen flying. The mate leaped to his place with an angry
exclamation. "Another man to the helm," he cried. "You, boy. Run
below. Tell the captain she'll be dismasted in another five
minutes." He was in the right of it. A blind man could have told
that the ship was being over-driven. I ran down, as eager as the
mate to put an end to the danger.
When I went below, I found the captain in my cabin, rummaging
everywhere. He had flung out the contents of the lockers, my
bedclothes, everything, in a jumble on the deck, which, in a
drunken aimless way he was examining by the light of a couple of
dip candles, stuck to the edge of the bunk. It was not a time to
mind about that. "Sir," I said, "the ship is sinking. Come on
deck, sir; take the sail off. The mate says the ship is sinking."
"Eh," said the captain furiously. "You young spy. I command this
ship. What's the sail got to do with you?" He glared at me in
drunken anger.
"You young whelp," he cried, grabbing me by the collar. "Where
are your letters? Eh? Where've you hid your letters?"
At that instant, there came a more violent gust in the fierceness
of wind which drove us. The ship gave a "yank;" there is no other
word to express the frightful shock of her movement. She lay down
on her lee beam ends with a crash of breaking crockery. Casks
broke loose in the hold; gear fell from aloft; the captain was
flung under me against the ship's side. The deck beneath us
sloped up like a roof. In the roar of water rushing down the
hatch I remember thinking that the Day of Judgment was come.
Yells on deck mingled with all the uproar; I heard something thud
like a sledge-hammer on the ship's side. The captain picked
himself up holding his head, which was all one gore of blood from
the crack against the ship's side. "Beam ends," he said stupidly.
"Beam ends. Yes. Yes." He was dazed; he did not know what he
said; but some sort of sailor's instinct told him that he was
wanted on deck. At any rate he went out, pulling himself up the
steep deck with a cleverness which I had not expected. He left me
clutching the ledge of the bunk, staring up at the door away
above me, while the wreck of my belongings banged about at my
feet. I thought it was all over with the ship; but I was not
scared at the prospect of death; only a little sickish from the
shock of that sudden sweeping over. I found a fascination in the
horrible open door, the black oblong hole in the air through
which the captain had passed. I waited for the sea to pour down
it. I expected to see a clear mass of water with fish in it;
something quite calm, something beautiful, not the noisy horror
of the sea outside. I suppose I waited like that for a full
minute before the roar of the squall grew less. Then I told
myself that I must go on deck; that the danger would be less,
looking it in the face, than down there in the cabin. It was not
pleasant to go on deck, any more than it is pleasant to go
downstairs at two in the morning to look for burglars, but it was
better to be moving than staying still. I clenched my fist upon
the only dip which remained alight (the other was somewhere in
the jumble under my feet). Then, catching hold of the door-hook I
pulled myself up to the door, where I steadied myself for a
moment. While I stood there I had a horrible feeling of the ship
having died under my feet. She had been leaping so gallantly only
five minutes before. Now she lay with her heart broken, while the
seas beat her with great thumps.
Two battle-lanterns lit the after 'tweendecks. There was a great
heap of staved in casks, slopping about in an inch or two of
water, all along that side, thrown there by the smash. I could
hear the men yelling on deck. Captain Barlow was swearing in loud
shouts. I could hear all this in the lull of the squall. I heard
more than that, as I stood listening. I heard the faint crying
out of a woman's voice from the steward's pantry (next door to
the captain's cabin) on the opposite side, across the steep,
tipped up slippery decks. At first I thought it must be the poor
cat; but as the wind passed, letting me hear more clearly, I
recognized that it was a woman's voice, crying out there in the
darkness with a note of pain. I did not think of Aurelia. She
never entered my head. All that I thought was "Poor creature!
What a place for a woman!" The ship was jerking, you might almost
call it gasping, as the seas struck her; it was no easy job to
climb along that roof-slope of the deck with nothing to hold on
by. I got across somehow, partly by luck, partly by fingernails.
I even managed to open the pantry door, which was another
difficulty, as it opened inwards, into the cabin. As I opened it,
a suck of wind blew out my light. There I was in the dark, with a
hurt woman, in a ship which for all I knew, might sink with all
hands in twenty seconds. It is queer; I didn't mind the ship
sinking. What I disliked was being in the dark with an unknown
somebody who whimpered.
"Are you much hurt?" I asked. "Hold on a minute. I'll strike a
light." I shut myself into the cabin, so as to keep out the
draught. My feet kicked among the steward's crockery. It was as
dark in that cubby-hole as in a grave. The unknown person,
probably fearing me, thinking me some rough drunken sailor, was
crying out now more in terror than in pain. She was begging me
not to hurt her. I probably frightened her a good deal by not
replying. The tinder box took up all my attention for a good
couple of minutes. A tinder box is not a thing to get light by
hurriedly. You try some day, to see how quickly you can light a
candle by one. When I got the candle lit, I thought of the
battle-lanterns swinging outside all the time. I might have saved
myself all that trouble by using a little common sense. Well.
Wait till you stand as I stood, with your heart in your boots,
down in a pit of death, you'll see how much common sense will
remain in your fine brains.
When the flame took hold of the wick, so that I could look about
me, I saw the lady Aurelia lying among the smashed up gear to
leeward. She had been lying down, reading in a sort of bunk which
had been rigged up for her on the locker-top. The shock had flung
her clean out of the bunk on to the deck. At the same moment an
avalanche of gear had fetched to leeward. A cask had rolled on to
her left hand, pinning her down to the deck, while a box of
bottles had cut the back of her head. A more complete picture of
misery you could not hope to see. There was all the ill-smelling
jumble of steward's gear, tumbled in a heap of smash, soaking in
the oil from the fallen lamp. There was a good deal of blood
about. Aurelia was lying in all the debris half covered with
salted fish from one of the capsized casks. They looked like huge
leaves. She seemed to have been buried under them, like a babe in
the wood. She grew calm when she saw me. "There are candles under
the bunk," she said. "Light two or three. Tell me what has
happened."
I did not answer till I had lighted three or four more candles.
"The ship's on her beam ends," I said. "It's the captain's fault.
But never mind that. I must get you out. Are you badly hurt, do
you think?"
"I'm all right," she said with a gasp. "But it's being pinned in
here. I thought I was going to be pinned down while I was being
drowned."
"Shut your eyes, please," I said. "Bite your lip. It'll hurt, I'm
afraid, getting this cask off your hand. Are you ready. Now." I
did it as gently as I could; but it made me turn all cold to
think of the hand under all that weight.
"Can you withdraw your hand, now?" I asked, tilting the cask as
far up as I could.
"No," she said. "Look out. I'll roll out." In another two seconds
she was sitting up among the crockery with her face deathly white
against the bulkhead; she had fainted. There was a water-carafe
on a bracket up above my head. I splashed her face with water
from it till she rallied. She came to herself with a little
hysterical laugh, at the very instant when something giving way
aloft let the ship right herself again. "Hold on a minute," I
said. "Take this water. Now drink a little. I'll be back in a
moment." The ship was rolling drunkenly in the trough of the sea;
but I made a nimble rush to the cabin, where the captain's cruet
of brandy bottles still swung from a hook in the beams. I ran
back to her with a bottle of brandy. There were a few unbroken
mugs in the pantry, so I gave her a drink of brandy, which
brought the colour back to her cheeks. While she sat there, in
the mess of gear which slid about as the ship rolled, I got a
good big jug of water from the scuttle-butt in the 'tweendecks. I
nipped on deck with it to ask the mate for some balsam, an
excellent cure for cuts which most sailors carry to sea with
them. There was mess enough on deck in all conscience. I found
the foretopmast gone over the side, in a tangle of torn rope at
which all hands were furiously hacking. The mate was on the
fo'c'sle hacking at some gear with a tomahawk. I did not see the
captain.
"Mr. mate," I cried. "I want some balsam, quick."
"Get out of this," he shouted. "Get out of this. I can't attend
to your hurts. Don't come bothering here."
"It's for the lady," I said, "the lady down below."
"In my chest. Look in my chest till," he said. "Now stand dear.
I've trouble enough without ladies in the case. Are you all
clear, you, aft there?"
"All gone here, sir," the men shouted back. "Shall we sling a
bowline over the foot?"
"No," he shouted. "Look out. She's going."
For just a second I saw the mass of spar all tangled up with sail
rise up on a wave as it drifted past. I found myself wondering
why we had all been in the shadow of death only a couple of
minutes before. There was no thought of danger now. I ran below
for the balsam, which I found without difficulty.
