Kitabı oku: «No Moss: or, The Career of a Rolling Stone», sayfa 10
"Did you ever see such luck? Did I make any mistake, Jackson?"
"No, indeed. You handled the yacht all right, but see, the pirate has longer legs than we have. Isn't she a trotter? She can run away from us, and not half try."
"I believe she can," replied the first lieutenant, who felt considerably crest-fallen over his defeat, and did not care to say much. "We will keep as close as possible to Tom, and be ready to take advantage of his next mistake. He'll be sure to make one presently."
Harry stood on his quarter-deck watching the pirate, and not more than ten minutes elapsed before he began to think that he knew what he was talking about when he predicted that her skipper would soon commit another blunder. Both vessels had by this time passed the shoals – the Sweepstakes being so far ahead that Harry could but just make her out through the darkness; but, instead of holding up the harbor and keeping far enough away from the bluffs to feel the full force of the wind, Tom rounded the shoals, and shaped the schooner's course toward the island. The first lieutenant was quite as much astonished as delighted at this apparent want of foresight on the part of the pirate captain, but he made no remark. He held on his way until the schooner was out of sight in the darkness, and then he tacked and ran toward the island.
"What do you think, Jackson," asked Harry, whose spirits were now as exalted as they had before been depressed; "hasn't he run into a nice trap? We've got him this time."
"Yes, he's caught easy enough now. He has no chance for escape that I can see. The shoals are on one side of him, and we all know that he can't cross them; the island is in front of him, and I am quite sure he can't get over that; we are behind him, and if he tries to come out we can cut him off. He's caught, sir."
Harry was certain of it. He ordered the crew to their stations once more, and went forward with his glass to watch for the schooner. The Storm King was headed toward the point where the shoals joined the island, and the first lieutenant was sure that when Tom became alarmed, and tried to run out, he could not pass by on either side without being discovered and cut off. He could not imagine what made him go in there. If he was trying to dodge the yacht, he was certainly going about it in a very awkward manner. A few minutes more passed, and Harry began to wonder why he did not see the schooner. She could not go much farther in that direction without being dashed upon the shoals, and Tom must soon round to and come out, if he wished to save his vessel. The roar of the breakers grew louder and louder as the yacht approached them, and the waves dashed and foamed over the ledge, just as they had done when the Crusoe men braved their fury two hours before. They were now getting quite as close to them as some of the students cared to go. Even Jackson became a little uneasy, and, although like all the rest of the crew, he kept a bright lookout for the Sweepstakes, he now and then glanced anxiously toward the first lieutenant, who, perched upon the rail, was turning his glass in every direction, fully conscious of their dangerous proximity to the breakers, but more interested, just then, in the fate of the schooner than in any thing else.
"Look here, Mr. Jackson," he exclaimed suddenly, "Tom had better come out of that. He'll be cast away as sure as he is a foot high."
The second lieutenant thought it very probable that the Storm King would be cast away also, if her commander did not mind what he was about; but, like a good officer, he said nothing. He knew that Harry was a better sailor than he was – he must have been, or he would not have held a higher rank; that he was quite as deeply in love with the yacht as any of the crew, and that he would not willingly run her into any danger from which he could not extricate her. But still the breakers roared loudly and looked dangerous, and the second lieutenant wished the vessel well away from them.
"What do you suppose Tom Newcombe is trying to do?" continued Harry, excitedly. "No boy with his senses about him would take a vessel like the Sweepstakes in there. Anyhow, we have the satisfaction of knowing that if he isn't wrecked he can't get away from us. He is penned up, cornered, caught. What shall we do with him when we capture him? Throw him overboard?"
The yacht was still bounding toward the shoals with all the speed that stiff breeze could give her, and just as Harry ceased speaking, the bluffs on the island loomed up through the darkness. The shore for two hundred yards was plainly visible, and anxious eyes examined it closely, but nothing could be seen of the schooner. The students were utterly bewildered. They looked at one another, then along the shore again, but not a sign of a sail could they discover. The pirate schooner had disappeared as completely as though she had never been in the harbor at all.
"Come about, Mr. Jackson," said Harry, as calmly as though the long line of foaming, hissing breakers before him had been a mile away, instead of almost under the vessel's bows. His mind was so fully engrossed with the mysterious disappearance of the schooner, that he could think of nothing else. Where could she have gone? was a question he asked himself more than once while the Storm King was coming about. She could not have slipped by him, dark as it was, for there had been too many pairs of sharp eyes looking out for that. She could not have gone over the island, and she might as well have tried that as to attempt the passage of the shoals. She certainly had not been dashed in pieces on the rocks, for, in that case, he would have heard the noise of the collision and the cries of the crew, and, besides, he would have seen the wreck. Harry did not know what to make of it.
"Wheeler," said he, turning to the boatswain's mate, who happened to be standing near him, "what do you think of this?"
"Well, sir," replied the young tar, touching his cap and hitching up his trowsers, "I was just wondering if it was a schooner at all. She may be a small edition of the Flying Dutchman, sir."
If Harry had been superstitious he would have thought so too. The schooner's disappearance was so mysterious, so sudden, so unexpected! Just at the moment when the crew of the Storm King were waiting for the order to board her, she had vanished, and no one could tell where she had gone. The first lieutenant knew many an old sailor who, had he been on board the yacht at that moment, would have solemnly affirmed that they had been pursuing a phantom.
CHAPTER XV.
TOM HAS ANOTHER IDEA
"Yes, sir," repeated the governor of the Crusoe band, in a tone of great satisfaction, "we're off fur our island at last. Them spooneys will never trouble you any more, cap'n. You're safe from Johnny Harding, an' I'm safe from Mr. Grimes, Bobby Jennings, an' all the rest of 'em. Hurrah fur us!"
Tom stood leaning over the schooner's rail, watching the Storm King, which was rapidly fading from his view, and thinking, not of Johnny Harding, but of the failure of his grand idea. He would not have been greatly disappointed if he had known that he should never see Crusoe's island. He had, of course, expected that when he should be comfortably settled in some remote corner of the world, far away from all the troubles and vexations that had made his life in Newport so miserable, he would realize his idea of supreme felicity; but one element in his happiness was to be the satisfaction of knowing that he had carried out his threat, and "squared yards" with every body; that he had destroyed the Storm King; that he had rendered the naval commission, in which Harry Green took so much pride and delight, perfectly useless to him, and that he had taken ample revenge upon his father and upon the principal of the military academy. With such thoughts as these to console him, Tom imagined that he would be perfectly content to pass the remainder of his days on some desert island, even in the company of such uncongenial fellows as Sam Barton and his men; but now he knew that could not be. His splendid scheme had failed. The yacht was still right side up, as swift and as handsome as ever, and as sound as a dollar, in spite of the charred and smoked wood-work in her galley. That was enough to banish all Tom's hopes of happiness. He could not enjoy a moment's peace of mind as long as the Storm King remained above water. He was a disappointed boy – an unlucky, ill-used, and unappreciated boy, too – whose life must henceforth be a desert and a blank. No more sport, no more enjoyment for him, and all because of that one unkind act of his father's.
This was the way the captain of the Crusoe band reasoned with himself as he leaned over the rail, gazing through the darkness toward the spot where he had last seen the yacht, and that was the way he would have told his story to any stranger who he thought would sympathize with him; but if such sensible fellows as Johnny Harding, Harry Green, and Bill Steele had been consulted, they would have shown Tom up in a different kind of light altogether. They would have cleared Mr. Newcombe, and placed all the blame right where it belonged – upon Tom's own shoulders. They would have described the home and surroundings of this "Boy of Bad Habits" – this "Rolling Stone" – who had gone from one thing to another in search of that which none of us find in this world – freedom from care and trouble – and would have proved that he ought to have been one of the happiest boys in Newport. They would have told that his sole object in life had been to avoid every thing that looked like work, and to establish himself in some easy, pleasant business, that would run along smoothly, without the least exertion on his part. They would have described him as a boy utterly wanting in firmness of purpose, except when he got one of his grand ideas into his head, and then he was as unreasonable and obstinate as a mule. They would have said that his numerous failures had not taught him wisdom, but had made him more determined; that he would not listen to any one's advice, and that he clung with bull-dog tenacity to his favorite belief that "nobody could teach him." And they would have come, at last, to the inevitable consequences of such a life as Tom had been leading, and told how he had been going down hill all this while, until he had at last got so low that no boy who had the least respect for himself could associate with him; that he was the leader of a band of rascals, the companion of burglars, a fugitive from justice, and one of the most miserable and despised of human beings. Tom could not help acknowledging to himself that such was his condition, but he clung to the idea that it was not his fault. His father was responsible for it all.
"If he had only given me that yacht, as he ought to have done," Tom had said to himself twenty times that night, "things would have been very different. I could have paid him back his four hundred dollars in a week or two, and after that every cent I earned would have been clear profit. But now – just look at me! I won't stand no such treatment from any body, and that's all about it."
"What's the row now, cap'n?" asked the governor.
"O, I was thinking about that yacht," drawled Tom.
"And, talkin' about her, too," returned Sam; "I heard what you said. This is a hard world, Tommy, that's a fact. The lucky ones go up, an' the onlucky ones go down. Life's nothing but luck, nohow."
"Well, if that's the case," whined Tom, "what is the use of a fellow's exerting himself at all? If it is his lot to go ahead in the world, he will, and if it isn't, he won't, and all the working and planning he can do will not better his condition in the least."
"Exactly! Sartinly! That's just my way of thinkin' to a dot; an' every thing goes to prove that I am right. Now, me an' you were born to be poor – to go down hill; an' your father was born to be rich – to go up hill. Haven't you tried hard to be somebody?"
"O, now, yes I have!"
"I know it. I never in my life saw a feller that tried harder, an' what's the reason you didn't succeed? 'Cause you are onlucky. It aint your lot to go up hill. You might work an' scheme, an' try your level best, till you are as old as your grandfather, but it wouldn't do you no arthly good, whatsomever. Now, just look at your father! He's one of the lucky ones. Every thing he touches turns to money to onct. He needn't do no work if he don't want to. He can set back on his easy chair an' read his paper, an' the cash comes pourin' in so fast that he has to hire a man to take care of it. Now, I ask, Why is it? It's his lot; that's the reason, an' he aint no better'n I be, neither. Things aint fixed right, nohow, 'cordin' to my way of thinkin'."
Tom was not overburdened with common sense, but he was not foolish enough to believe in Sam Barton's doctrine. He knew that it is the industrious, prudent, and persevering who go up hill, and the lazy and worthless who go down. He knew that his father had made many a long voyage as a common sailor, and a good many more as captain, and worked hard for years with hand and brain before he could "set back in his easy chair" and read his newspaper during business hours. But he was quite ready to agree with the governor when he said that "things were not fixed right" in this world. Tom was quite sure they were fixed wrong. He had tried so hard, and had been so certain of success! If his plans had not all failed so miserably, he would have been a happy and prosperous trader, and the owner of the finest little sloop about the village, instead of a captain in the Crusoe band. He could not see that he had made any mistakes in refusing to listen to the advice so often given him. The blame rested entirely with his father.
Tom was a very unhappy boy, and the only consolation he could find was in the thought that, by this nights work, he was severely punishing his father. Mr. Newcombe would, of course, hear all the particulars of the robbery, and of the attempted destruction of the yacht, and then he would regret that he had not paid more attention to his son's wishes. But it would be too late. The ill-used one would be miles at sea before morning, and he would never again return to Newport as long as he lived. Tom told himself that he was resolved upon that; but, after all, he did go back, and perhaps we shall see how he looked when he got there.
All this while the schooner had been bounding along the south shore of the island, headed toward the narrows. Xury was still at the wheel, Tom and the governor were standing at the head of the companion-ladder, the rest of the Crusoe men were gathered on the forecastle, and the robbers were leaning over the rail in the waist, looking down into the water, and conversing in low tones. The governor had been so busy since they came on board the schooner that he had scarcely spoken to them, but now he left Tom (who had again fallen into one of his meditative moods) to scrape an acquaintance with them. The burglars were so deeply engrossed in discussing their affairs that they did not hear the sound of Sam's footsteps, and he approached within a few feet of them without being discovered. So close was he to them, indeed, that he could catch every word of their conversation. He had not thought of playing the part of eaves-dropper, but he found that they were talking about the thousand dollars they had promised to pay the Crusoe men for taking them to sea, and something that was said brought Sam to a stand-still.
"You were not in earnest when you made that offer, were you?" he heard one of the robbers ask.
"Yes, I was. I thought there were some men in the party, and that we could afford to pay them well for passage on board their vessel; but I see they are all boys, and we can give them the money or not, just as we please."
"It would be a foolish piece of business to throw away a thousand dollars, after coming so far, and working so hard for it."
"I know that, and I don't intend to do it. They seem to understand managing a vessel pretty well, and they may succeed in taking us to a place of safety. If they do, we'll step ashore and let them whistle for their money."
"But won't they make a fuss?"
"Who cares if they do? Haven't we both got revolvers?"
"Well, now, if this yere don't beat all the world," soliloquized the governor, who could scarcely believe that he had heard aright. He stood for a moment as motionless as if he had been nailed to the deck, looking the very picture of astonishment and alarm; then he shook his head threateningly, moved quietly across to the other side, and settled into a comfortable position, to think the matter over.
Since the robbers made him that offer, the thousand dollars had never once been out of his mind. In his eyes it was an immense fortune, and he would have been willing to do almost any thing in his power to obtain possession of it. He already regarded the money as his own, and he had laid his plans for the disposal of it. He would not trust it in the hands of the treasurer of the band, but would take charge of it himself. He would invest a portion of it in weapons, fishing-tackle, clothing, powder, shot, and other articles they needed to complete their outfit, and with the remainder he would purchase provisions. He had never dreamed that the burglars would refuse to live up to their promise, but he had heard enough of their conversation to satisfy him that they would bear watching. Sam thought they were the meanest men he had ever heard of.
"I won't give up the money," said the governor, striking his fist upon the rail to give emphasis to his words; "that's just all about it. They promised to give it to me if I would take them out to sea, and they sha'n't go off this vessel till I have it in my hands. If they won't stick to their bargain, like men had oughter do, I must find some way to make 'em. Step this way a minute, skipper. What do you think them two bugglars are doin'?" he added, in a scarcely audible whisper, glancing toward his passengers, who were still leaning over the rail. "They're layin' their plans to swindle us out of our money!"
"No!" exclaimed Tom, who had also built his hopes high upon that thousand dollars, and could not bear the thought of losing it.
"It's a fact. I heard them talkin' about it."
"O, now, did any body ever hear of such luck?" drawled the captain, stamping his foot impatiently upon the deck, and twisting his mouth on one side as if he had half a mind to cry. "I don't see how I can stand another disappointment to-night. That money would have bought so many things we really need! What did they say, Sam?"
The governor repeated the conversation he had overheard as nearly as he could recall it, and when he had finished his story Tom thrust his hands into his pockets and thoughtfully paced the deck. Sam watched him closely, and when he saw the captain's face brighten up, and the scowl disappear from his forehead, his hopes rose again. "What is it, skipper?" he asked.
"I've got another idea," replied Tom, excitedly. "We want that money, don't we?"
"Of course we do, an' we're bound to have it, if we can get it. There ain't a single dollar in the treasury. I'd like to punish them fellers, too, fur bein' so mean as to think of cheatin' us."
"Well, we can do it," said Tom, mysteriously. "Sam," and here he approached the governor, and placed his lips close to his ear – "I can't see the use of being satisfied with a thousand dollars when we can just as well have more."
"More!" echoed the governor; "more'n a thousand dollars?"
"Don't talk so loud. We've got just as much right to the money in the valise as those robbers have; don't you think so?"
"I reckon I do. It don't belong to nary one of us."
"Well, let's take it."
"What! All of it – the whole five thousand dollars?"
"Yes, every cent of it."
The governor staggered back against the rail and looked at Tom without speaking. He had, by this time, become well acquainted with the captain, and when the latter declared that he had another idea, Sam was prepared to listen to something desperate, such as arming the band with the empty shot-guns, and demanding the passage money at their muzzles; but he had not dreamed that Tom would think seriously of attempting to deprive the burglars of their ill-gotten gains.
"If you want to punish them," continued the skipper, "I don't know any better way."
"Nor me, neither," returned Sam. "But how can we do it? that's the question. We're only boys, an' they're men an' carry revolvers. I wish we had a few loads fur our guns."
"Just leave this thing to me, governor," replied Tom. "I can think it over in half an hour, and then I'll let you know what I have decided to do. You had better tell the other fellows what has been going on, and ask them what they think of it."
As Tom said this he once more buried his hands in his pockets and began pacing the deck, and Sam ran off to repeat to the rest of the band the conversation he had overheard between the burglars, and to tell them what he and the captain had determined upon. The Crusoe men listened attentively, and it is hard to tell whether they were the more indignant at their passengers, or amazed at the audacity of their skipper. They spoke of the revolvers, and declared that, rather than face them, they would give up the thousand dollars.
"O, we aint goin' to fight the bugglars," said Sam, quickly. "Tommy an' me aint so foolish as to believe that six boys are a match fur two men with loaded pistols in their pockets. We're goin' to fool 'em, somehow. We'll either get the revolvers away from 'em, or study up a plan to get hold of the valise, without puttin' ourselves in the way of the shootin' irons. The matter is in the cap'n's hands, an' he is thinkin' it over now. We'll larn them fellers a thing or two before we are done with 'em."
The governor left his men to talk the matter over at their leisure, and walked toward the robbers, who had brought their consultation to a close, and seemed to be awaiting an opportunity to speak to him. "Look here, boy," said one of them, as Sam came up, "who are you, and where are you going?"
"Well, mister," replied the governor, "it's a long story, but, if you want to hear it, I reckon I can tell it to you."
The passengers declared their willingness to listen, and Sam proceeded to give them a complete history of the Crusoe band from the day it was organized down to the time he met the robbers at Mr. Henry's store, describing their adventures in glowing language, and dwelling, with a good deal of pride, upon the exploits of this particular night. The men were no less astonished than every one else had been who had heard the story, and Sam could see that they were uneasy, too.
"So you really set fire to a vessel before you left the harbor, did you?" asked one.
"Sartin. We might as well have let it alone, howsomever, fur her crew put out the fire before it had a chance to do any damage, an' she is after us now. But that needn't scare you none, fur we are leavin' her behind fast."
"That makes no difference," replied the robber. "If she can't catch you, there are plenty of other vessels that can do it. You'll have the whole town after you before long, and we are in danger as long as we remain with you. We want you to set us ashore at once."
"How about our money?" asked Sam.
"What money?"
"Why, the thousand dollars you promised to pay us fur takin' you out to sea."
"O, you haven't earned that yet. We told you that you should have it when you had carried us safely out of sight of Newport. That's something you can't do, and so you need not expect to receive the money. We can't give it to you for nothing, you know."
"Well, if this yere aint the very meanest piece of business I ever heard of," muttered the governor, as he turned on his heel and left the robbers. "But they aint by no means so smart as they think they are. We'll larn 'em how to cheat us. What's the trouble now?"
This question was addressed to the skipper, who was running about the deck in a high state of excitement, having just discovered the Storm King coming up the narrows. Although Tom was very much interested in his plot against the robbers, he had not forgotten the responsibilities resting upon him, and he had kept a bright lookout for their pursuers. He knew the yacht had gone down the other side of the island, and he was well aware of the fact that he ran some risk of being cut off, but he had great confidence in the speed of his vessel, and held on his course, hoping to beat the sloop in the race, and to pass through the narrows before she came in sight. But in this he was disappointed. The Storm King was directly in his path and coming toward him at a rate of speed that made the skipper of the pirate craft extremely nervous.
"I say, Tommy," cried Sam, as soon as he had recovered from his surprise, "there's them spooneys again."
"O, now, am I blind?" drawled the captain. "Don't I see them as plainly as you do?"
"But how does it come that they are in front of us? That's what I want to know. I thought they were a mile behind by this time. We can make up our minds for a fight now, sartin."
"Why, they are boys," exclaimed one of the robbers. "We have nothing to fear from them."
"Now, don't you fool yourself," replied the governor. "If they are boys, there's lots of 'em, and they've got muskets, pikes, an' cutlasses, an' they know how to use 'em, too. You'd better be gettin' them shootin' irons of your'n ready."
For a few minutes there was a great commotion on the deck of the Sweepstakes. The captain's orders were promptly obeyed, but the schooner came about very slowly, while the Storm King continued to approach at the top of her speed, and the governor could see that Harry was making preparations to come to close quarters. While the little vessels were rushing through the water, side by side, and so close together that an active boy could almost jump from one to the other, the excitement on board the Sweepstakes was intense, and it was increased when the yacht began to fall off and swing toward the schooner. The Crusoe men had no desire to face cold steel in the hands of twenty enraged students.
"All hands repel boarders," shouted the captain of the pirate craft, flourishing his handspike about his head. "Crowd her, Xury. Jack Spaniard, get an ax and stand by to cut us loose if they try to lash the yacht fast to us."
But we know that Harry did not succeed in his attempt to lay his vessel alongside the pirate. Her superior sailing qualities enabled her to escape, and by the time the yacht was ready to fill away in pursuit, she was almost out of sight in the darkness. There was no exultation on the part of the officers of the Crusoe band, however. They had escaped from one danger, but they knew that there were others close at hand. It had been their desire to get into deep water with the least possible delay, but the yacht had sadly interfered with their plans. The Sweepstakes was fairly blockaded.
"I wish that sloop was at the bottom of the ocean," exclaimed Tom. "If we don't look out, Harry Green will get the better of us yet."
"Don't you think we could run by her?" asked the governor, anxiously.
"No, indeed. The schooner is very swift, but she couldn't do that. We must go back to our harboring-place. It isn't safe to go around the island again, for those tugs have raised steam by this time, and, whatever we do, we must keep away from them. Perhaps if we run into the cove we can give Harry Green the slip. He will not know where we are, and if he goes off to hunt us up, we'll come out and start for our island again."
The governor did not like this plan. The cove was too near the village to be a safe hiding-place now, and as soon as the events of the night became generally known the harbor would be covered with vessels and tugs. But he could see no other way of escape, and he finally went aft, and took his place at the wheel. The passengers stood in the waist, holding fast to the money, and watching all that was going on; but they had nothing to say until they heard the roar of the breakers, and discovered that the schooner was headed directly toward them. Then they wanted to know where the captain was going, and what he intended to do, but the reply they received did not convey to them the desired information. Tom could not forget that they had laid their plans to cheat the Crusoe band, and he thought that men who could go back from their word, as these intended to do, were not worth noticing. "You will please attend to your own business," said he.
"But this is our business, captain," protested one of the passengers. "We don't want to be wrecked."
"Well, if you are afraid, you can get out and go afoot," said Tom. "I am master of this vessel, and if you will keep quiet, you will find out that I know what I am doing."
But the robbers' actions indicated that they did not feel disposed to keep quiet. They looked at the shoals, whispered together for a moment, and then one of them thrust his hand into his pocket, and, approaching Tom, said, savagely:
"Look here! We are not going in among those rocks. If you want to keep out of trouble – "
Just at that moment the Sweepstakes dashed into the channel that ran between the shoals and the bluffs on the island, and the burglar forgot what he was about to say to Tom, and thought only of self-preservation. They both rushed frantically to the side, and while one of them held fast to the rail with one hand, and to the valise with the other, his companion hurriedly divested himself of his pea-jacket, and kicked off his boots, in preparation for his battle with the waves, which he seemed to believe was not far distant. The governor was uneasy also. He had never before attempted to take so large a vessel as the Sweepstakes through the channel, and he was by no means certain as to the result of his undertaking. But luck was still in his favor, and, after being tossed about on the angry waves for ten minutes – it seemed much longer to the trembling and excited Crusoe men – the schooner glided swiftly between the rocks at the entrance of the cove, and ran her bowsprit among the bushes that grew on the bank in front of the cabin. And while Harry Green and his crew were wondering at her mysterious disappearance, and telling one another that they had been pursuing a phantom, she lay snug and safe in the cove, and none the worse for her rough passage across the shoals.
