Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader by Robert Michael Ballantyne (top inspirational books .TXT) 📖

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"Dear me! what is scragged?" inquired Alice.

"You don't mean for to say you don't know?" exclaimed Bumpus.

"No, indeed, I don't."

"Why, it means bein' hanged. I was so near hanged, just a day or two back, that I've had an 'orrible pain in my neck ever since at the bare thought of it! But who's your friend?" said Bumpus, turning to the boatswain.

"Oh! I forgot him--he's the boatswain of the _Talisman_. Dick Price, this is my friend, John Bumpus."

"Glad to know you, Dick Price."

"Same to you, and luck, John Bumpus."

The two sea-dogs joined their enormous palms, and shook hands cordially.

After these two had indulged in a little desultory conversation, Will Corrie, who, meanwhile, consulted with Alice in an undertone, brought them back to the point that was uppermost in his mind.

"Now," said he, "it comes to this,--we must not let Gascoyne be hanged."

"Why, Corrie," cried Bumpus, in surprise, "that's the very thing I was a-thinkin' of w'en I comed up here and found Miss Alice under the tree."

"I am glad to hear that, Jo; it's what has been on my own mind all the morning. But Dick Price here is not convinced that he deserves to escape. Now; you tell him all _you_ know about Gascoyne, and I'll tell him all _I_ know, and if he don't believe _us_, Alice and Poopy will tell him all _they_ know, and if that won't do, you and I will take him up by the legs and pitch him into the sea!"

"That bein' how the case stands--fire away," said Dick Price with a grin, sitting down on the grass and busily filling his pipe.

Dick was not so hard to be convinced as Corrie had feared. The glowing eulogiums of Bumpus, and the earnest pleadings of Alice, won him over very soon. He finally agreed to become one of the conspirators.

"But how is the thing to be done?" asked Corrie in some perplexity.

"Ah! that's the pint," observed Dick, looking profoundly wise.

"Nothin' easier," said Bumpus, whose pipe was by this time keeping pace with that of his new friend. "The case is as clear as mud. Here's how it is. Gascoyne is in limbo; well, we are out of limbo. Good. Then, all we've got for to do is to break into limbo and shove Gascoyne out of limbo, and help him to escape. It's all square, you see, lads."

"Not so square as you seem to think," said Henry Stuart, who at that moment stepped from behind the stem of the tree, which had prevented the party from observing his approach.

"Why not?" said Bumpus, making room for the young man to sit beside Alice, on the grass.

"Because," said Henry, "Gascoyne won't agree to escape."

"Not agree for to escape!"

"No. If the prison door were opened at this moment, he would not walk out."

Bumpus became very grave, and shook his head. "Are ye sartin sure o' this?" said he.

"Quite sure," replied Henry, who now detailed part of his recent conversation with the pirate captain.

"Then it's all up with him!" said Bumpus; "and the pirate will meet his doom, as I once hear'd a feller say in a play--though I little thought to see it acted in reality."

"So he will," added Dick Price.

Corrie's countenance fell, and Alice grew pale. Even Poopy and Toozle looked a little depressed.

"No, it is _not_ all up with him," cried Henry Stuart, energetically. "I have a plan in my head which I think will succeed, but I must have assistance. It won't do, however, to discuss this before our young friends. I must beg of Alice and Poopy to leave us. I do not mean to say I could not trust you, Alice, but the plan must be made known only to those who have to act in this matter. Rest assured, dear child, that I shall do my best to make it successful."

Alice sprang up at once. "My father told me to follow him some time ago," said she. "I have been too long of doing so already. I _do_ hope that you will succeed."

So saying, and with a cheerful "Good-bye!" the little girl ran down the mountain-side, closely followed by Toozle and Poopy.

As soon as she was gone, Henry turned to his companions and unfolded to them his plan--the details and carrying out of which, however, we must reserve for another chapter.


CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.


BUMPUS IS PERPLEXED--MYSTERIOUS COMMUNINGS AND A CURIOUS LEAVE-TAKING.

"It's a puzzler," said Jo Bumpus to himself--for Jo was much in the habit of conversing with himself; and a very good habit it is, one that is often attended with much profit to the individual, when the conversation is held upon right topics and in a proper spirit--"it's a puzzler, it is; that's a fact."

Having relieved his mind of this observation, the seaman proceeded to cut down some tobacco, and looked remarkably grave and solemn as if "it" were not only a puzzler but an alarmingly serious puzzler.

"Yes, it's the biggest puzzler as ever I comed across," said he, filling his pipe--for John, when not roused, got on both mentally and physically by slow stages.

"Niver know'd its equal," he continued, beginning to smoke, which operation, as the pipe did not "draw" well at first, prevented him from saying anything more.

It was early morning when Bumpus said all this, and the mariner was enjoying his morning pipe in a reclining attitude on the grass beneath Alice Mason's favourite tree, from which commanding position he gazed approvingly on the magnificent prospect of land and sea which lay before him, bathed in the light of the rising sun.

"It _is_ wery koorious," continued John, taking his pipe out of his mouth and addressing himself to _it_ with much gravity--"_wery_ koorious. Things _always_ seems wot they isn't, and turns out to be wot they didn't appear as if they wasn't; werry odd indeed, it is! Only to think that this here sandal-wood trader should turn out for to be Henry's father and the widow's mother--no, I mean the widow's husband,-- an' a pirate, an' a deliverer o' little boys and gals out o' pirates' hands--his own hands, so to speak--not to mention captings in the Royal Navy, an' not sich a bad feller after all, as won't have his liberty on no account wotiver, even if it was gived to him for nothin', and yet wot can't git it if he wanted it iver so much; and to think that Jo Bumpus should come for to lend hisself to--Hallo! Jo, back yer tops'ls! Didn't Henry tell ye that ye wasn't to convarse upon that there last matter even with yerself, for fear o' bein' overheard and sp'ilin' the whole affair? Come, I'll refresh myself."

The refreshment in which Jo proposed to indulge was of a peculiar kind which never failed him--it was the perusal of Susan's love-letter.

He now sat up, drew forth the precious and much soiled epistle, unfolded and spread it out carefully on his knees, placed his pipe very much on one side of his mouth, in order that the smoke might not interfere with his vision, and began to read.

"`_Peeler's Farm_,' ah! Susan darlin', it's Jo Bumpus as would give all he has in the world, includin' his Sunday clo'se, to be anchored alongside o' ye at that same farm! `_Sanfransko_.' I misdoubt the spellin' o' that word, Susan dear; it seems to me raither short, as if ye'd docked off its tail. Howsomever--`_For John bumpuss_'--O Susan, Susan! if ye'd only remember the big B, and there ain't two esses. I'm sure it's not for want o' tellin' ye, but ye was never great in the way ov memry or spellin'. Pr'aps it's as well. Ye'd ha' bin too perfect, an' that's not desirable, by no means--`_my darlin' Jo_'--ay, _them's_ the words. It's that as sets my 'art a b'ilin'-over like."

Here Jo raised his eyes from the letter and revelled silently in the thought for at least two minutes, during which his pipe did double duty in half its usual time. Then he recurred to his theme, but some parts he read in silence, and without audible comment.

"Ay," said he, "`_sandle-wood skooners, the Haf ov thems pirits_'--so they is, Susan. It's yer powers o' prophecy as amazes me--`_an' The other hafs no beter_'--a deal wus, Susan, if ye only know'd it. Ah! my sweet gal, if ye knew wot a grief that word `_beter_' wos to me before I diskivered wot it wos, ye'd try to improve yer hand o' write, an' make fewer blots!"

At this point Jo was arrested by the sound of footsteps behind him. He folded up his letter precipitately, thrust it into his left breast-pocket, and jumped up with a guilty air about him.

"Why, Bumpus, we have startled you out of a morning nap, I fear," said Henry Stuart, who, accompanied by his mother, came up at that moment. "We are on our way to say good-bye to Mr Mason. As we passed this knoll I caught sight of you and came up to ask about the boat."

"It's all right," said Bumpus, who quickly recovered his composure-- indeed he had never lost much of it. "I've bin down to Saunder's store and got the ropes for your--"

"Hush! man, there is no need of telling me what they are for," said Henry, with a mysterious look at his mother.

"Why not tell me all, Henry?" said Mrs Stuart; "surely you can trust me?"

"Trust you, mother?" replied the youth with a smile, "I should think so; but there are reasons for my not telling you everything just now. Surely you can trust _me_? I have told you as much as I think advisable in the meantime. Ere long I will tell you all."

The widow sighed and was fain to rest content. She sat down beside the tree while her companions talked together apart in low tones.

"Now Jo, my man," continued Henry, "_one_ of our friends must be got out of the way."

"Wery good; I'm the man as'll do it."

"Of course I don't mean that he's to be killed!"

"In coorse not. Who is he?"

"Ole Thorwald."

"Wot! the descendant o' the Sea Kings, as he calls himself?"

"The same," said Henry, laughing at the look of surprise with which Bumpus received this information.

"What has _he_ bin an' done?"

"He has done nothing as yet," said Henry; "but he will, certainly thwart our schemes if he hears of them. He has an inveterate ill-will to my poor father;" (Henry lowered his voice as he proceeded,) "and I know has suspicions that we are concocting some plan to enable him to escape, and watches us accordingly. I find him constantly hanging about the jail. Alas! if he knew how thoroughly determined Gascoyne is to refuse deliverance unless it comes from the proper source, he would keep his mind more at ease."

"Don't you think if you wos to tell him that Gascoyne _is_ yer father he would side with us?" suggested Bumpus.

"Perhaps he would. I _think_ he would; but I dare not risk it. The