Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader by R. M. Ballantyne (best ereader for textbooks TXT) 📖

We must turn aside here for a short time to follow the fortunes of the Talisman.

When that vessel went in chase of the Foam, after her daring passage across the reefs, she managed to keep her in view until the island was out of sight astern. Then the increasing darkness caused by the squall hid the two vessels from each other, and before the storm passed away the superior sailing qualities of the Foam carried her far beyond the reach of the cruiser.

But Mr Mulroy was not a man to be easily baffled. He resolved to continue the chase, and, supposing that his commander must have got safely to the shore, he made up his mind to proceed southward for a short time, thinking it probable that the pirate would run for the shelter of those remote islands which he knew were seldom visited by merchant ships. The importance of keeping the chase in view as long as possible, and following it up without delay, he felt it would be accepted as a sufficient excuse by Montague for not putting back to take him on board.

The squalls which happened to prevail at that time drove the Talisman farther south than her first lieutenant had intended to go, and she failed to fall in with the pirate schooner. Mulroy cruised far and wide for fully a week; then he gave up the chase as hopeless. Two days after the breaking of the storm that wrecked the Wasp, the Talisman’s prow was turned northward towards Sandy Cove.

It was the close of a calm beautiful evening when this was done. A gentle breeze fanned the topsails, although it failed to ruffle the sea.

“I don’t like to be baffled in this way,” said Mulroy to the second lieutenant, as they paced the quarterdeck together.

“It is very unfortunate,” returned the other. “Would it not be as well to examine the man called Surly Dick before leaving these waters? You know he let out that there is some island hereabouts at which the pirates are wont to rendezvous. Perhaps by threats, if not by persuasion, he may be induced to tell us where it lies.”

“True. I had forgotten that fellow altogether. Let him be sent for.”

In a few minutes Surly Dick stepped on the quarter-deck and touched his cap. He did not appear to have grown less surly since his introduction on board the frigate. Discipline had evidently a souring effect on his temper.

“Your late comrades have escaped me,” said the first lieutenant, “but you may depend upon it I will catch the villains in the long run.”

“It’ll be a pretty long run before you do,” remarked the man, sulkily.

Mulroy looked sternly at him. “You forget,” said he, “that you are a prisoner. Let me advise you to be at least civil in your manner and tone. Whether the run shall be a long or a short one remains to be seen. One thing is pretty certain, namely, that your own run of life will be a very short one. You know the usual doom of a pirate when he is caught.”

Surly Dick moved uneasily. “I was made a pirate against my will,” said he, in a still more sulky tone and disrespectful manner.

“You will find it difficult to prove that,” returned Mulroy. “Meanwhile I shall put you in irons and treat you as you deserve until I can place you in the hands of the civil authorities.”

Surly Dick stood first on one leg and then on the other; moved his fingers about nervously, and glanced in the lieutenant’s face furtively. It was evident that he was ill at ease.

“I never committed murder, sir,” said he in an improved tone. “It wasn’t allowed on board of the Avenger, sir. It’s a hard case that a fellow should be made a pirate by force, and then be scragged for it, though he’s done none o’ the bloody work.”

“This may be true,” rejoined the lieutenant, “but as I have said, you will find it difficult to convince your judges of it. But you will receive a fair trial. There is one thing, however, that will stand in your favour, and that is a full and free confession. If you make this, and give me all the information you can in order to bring your late comrades to justice, your judges will perhaps be disposed to view your case leniently.”

“Wot more can I confess, sir,” said Dick, beginning to look a little more interested. “I’ve already confessed that I wos made a pirate against my will, and that I’ve never done no murder—though I have plundered a little, just like the rest. As for helpin’ to bring my comrades to justice, I only wish as I know’d how, and I’d do it right off, I would.”

Surly Dick’s expression of countenance when he said this, was a sufficient guarantee that he was in earnest.

“There is an island somewhere hereabouts,” said the lieutenant, “where the pirates are in the habit of hiding sometimes, is there not?”

Surly Dick looked at his questioner slyly as he replied— “There is, sir.”

“Do you not think it very likely that they may have run there now—that they may be there at this moment?”

“It’s oncommom likely,” replied Dick with a grin. “Can you direct me how to steer, in order to reach that island?”

Surly Dick’s aspect changed. He became morose again, and looked silently at his feet for a few moments, as if he were debating something in his own mind. He was in truth perplexed; for, while he was extremely anxious to bring his hated comrades to justice, he was by no means so anxious to let the lieutenant into the secret of the treasures contained in the caverns of the Isle of Palms, all of which he knew would be at once swept hopelessly beyond his grasp if they should be discovered. He also reflected that if he could only manage to get his late companions comfortably hanged, and himself set free for having turned King’s evidence against them, he could return to the island and abstract the wealth it contained by degrees. The brilliant prospect thus opened up to him was somewhat marred, however, by the consideration that some of the pirates might make a confession and let this secret be known, in which case his golden dreams would vanish. The difficulty of making up his mind was so great that he continued for some time to twist his fingers and move his feet uneasily in silence.

Mulroy observed the pirate’s indecision, and although he knew not its cause to the full extent, he was sufficiently acquainted with human nature to know that now was the moment to overcome the man, if he was to be overcome at all.

“Well, well,” he said, carelessly, “I’m sorry to see you throw away your only chance. As for the information you refuse to give, I can do without it. Perhaps I may find some of your late comrades when we make the island, who will stand witness against you. That will do, my man, you may go. Mr Geoffrey,” (turning to a midshipman,) “will you accompany that pirate forward and see that he is put in irons.”

“But you don’t know where the island is,” said Surly Dick, anxiously, as the lieutenant was turning away.

Mulroy turned back— “No,” said he, “but you ought to know that when a seaman is aware of the existence of an island, and knows that he is near it, a short time will suffice to enable him to find it.”

Again he was about to turn away when Dick cried out— “Stay, sir, will you stand by me if I shew you the way?”

“I will not deceive you,” said Mulroy, bluntly. “If you shew me how to steer for this island, and assist me in every way that you can to catch these villains, I will report what you have done, and the judges at your trial will give what weight they please to the facts; but if you suppose that I will plead for such a rascal as you are, you very much mistake me.”

A look of deep hatred settled on the pirate’s countenance as he said briefly— “Well, I’ll shew you how to steer.”

Accordingly Surly Dick, after being shewn a chart, and being made aware of the exact position of the ship, ordered the course to be altered to “north-half-east.” As this was almost dead in the eye of the light breeze that was blowing, the Talisman had to proceed on her course by the slow process of tacking.

While she was in the act of putting about on one of these tacks, the look-out reported “a boat on the lee bow.”

“Boat on the lee bow!” was passed from mouth to mouth, and the order was immediately given to let the frigate fall off. In another minute, instead of ploughing her way slowly and doggedly to windward, the Talisman ran swiftly before the breeze towards a dark object which at a distance resembled a boat with a mast and a small flag flying from it.

“It is a raft, I think,” observed the second lieutenant, as he adjusted the telescope more perfectly.

“You are right, and I think there is someone on it,” said Mulroy. “I see something like a man lying on it, but whether he is dead or alive I cannot say. There is a flag, undoubtedly—but no one waves a handkerchief or a rag of any kind. Surely, if a living being occupied the raft he would have seen the ship by this time. Stay, he moves! No; it must have been imagination. I fear that he is dead, poor fellow. Stand by to lower a boat.”

The lieutenant spoke in a sad voice, for he felt convinced that he had come too late to the aid of some unfortunate who had died in perhaps the most miserable manner in which man can perish.

Henry Stuart did indeed lie