Among the Brigands Part 12

CHAPTER XII.

_The Waking of David.--A glorious Scene.--A Temptation.--David embarks upon the wide wide Sea.--Youth at the Prow and Pleasure at the Helm.--A daring Navigator.--A baffled and confounded Navigator.--Lost! Lost! Lost!--Despair of David.--At the Mercy of Wind and Sea.--The Isle of the Brigands.--The Brigand Chief._

On the morning of that day David had waked very early, feeling refreshed with his slumbers, and not at all inclined to prolong them. The others were all asleep, and the house was silent. As he lay he could hear the gentle ripple of the water upon the beach, and feel the sweet, balmy air of morning as it tanned his cheeks.

For some little time he lay enjoying his situation, and then jumped out of bed and went to the window.

Immediately in front of him lay the Bay of Naples, a dark blue expanse, with its border of green sh.o.r.es and white cities, overhung by a sky whose hue rivalled that of the sea beneath. The beauty of the scene was so exquisite that it called him forth, and unable any longer to remain within doors, he dressed himself and walked out. On his way out he met no one, for all were still asleep. He had to unlock the door to let himself out, and when outside he saw that the street was as deserted as the interior of the hotel.

Standing at the door, he saw the eastern sky all ruddy and glowing.

The sun was not yet up, but these hues indicated its approach, and announced that it was at hand. The fertile plains, all covered with vineyards, spread afar, extending from the outskirts of the town to the slopes of the mountains, which in the distance rose up grandly, their sides covered with groves, and resting in dark shadows. There, too, was Vesuvius, as ever, monarch of the scene; and the smoke that hung over its summit stood revealed in a black ma.s.s against the blue sky.

David left the hotel, and, after walking a few paces, turned his steps towards the sea-sh.o.r.e. Here the attractions were greater than on the land, for the blue expanse of water spread itself out before him, encircled by sh.o.r.es and islands, and all the congregated glories of the Bay of Naples were there in one view before his eyes. There was a beach here of fine pebbles, which sloped gently into the water, and upon this beach a number of boats were drawn up. After wandering along the beach for a little distance, David entered one of these boats, and sat down. It was a small boat, with: a mast and sail, the latter of which was loosely furled. Here David sat and looked out upon the water.

The glorious scene filled his whole soul with enthusiastic delight.

Upon that deep blue surface his eye was attracted by several white sails far away, that moved to and fro. At that moment it seemed to him that to move thus over such a sea would be equal to a bird's flight in the blue of heaven; and as he watched the boats he longed to be in them.

Suddenly he thought of the boat in which he was. Could he not have a little sail up and down along the sh.o.r.e? True, he did not know how to sail a boat, but he could learn; and this seemed as good a time to learn as any other. He did not know the owner, but on his return he could pay him what the excursion might be worth. He could float over this glorious water, and move up and down within easy reach of the sh.o.r.e, so as to land whenever it might be desirable.

David was not at all an enterprising boy, or an adventurous one.

He was essentially quiet, methodical, and conservative. It was not because this sail was a risky thing that he tried it, but rather because it seemed so perfectly safe. There was a breeze,--he felt it,--and the progress of the boats, afar off on the water, tantalized him and tempted him on. The result was, that without taking much time to think about it, David yielded to the inclination of the moment, and pushing the boat from the land into the water, he let loose the sail; and then seating himself in the stern, he prepared to glide over the water.

About sailing David knew absolutely nothing. He was not even acquainted with the theory of sailing; nor did he know, how, or on what principle, a sail-boat moves. About steering he was equally ignorant, nor did he know how a boat obeys its rudder. But he knew that the one who sails a boat sits in the stern, and holds the tiller; so David did the same, holding the tiller in his right hand, and the sheets in his left.

The wind was not very strong, and it happened to be blowing in such a way that, as he unfurled the sail, it filled at once, and the boat moved lightly and pleasantly along. The motion filled David with delight. He saw himself borne on past the sh.o.r.e, at a gentle rate, and felt that the moment was one of supreme happiness. Thus, holding sheet and tiller, he resigned himself to the joy of the occasion.

The wind was moderate, and there was nothing whatever in the movement of the boat to excite the slightest uneasiness. The wavelets dashed pleasantly against the bows, and the course of the boat remained sufficiently straight to keep her sail filled. David saw that whatever the secret of navigation might be, he had unconsciously stumbled Upon it; and finding that the boat was doing so admirably, he was very careful to hold the tiller straight, and not to move it to either side. So he leaned back, and luxuriated in the pleasant motion, and looked up at the deep blue sky that bent above him, and around at the wide expanse of water, the green verdurous hills, the vine-clad meadows, and the purple mountains.

From time to time he noticed, with satisfaction, that his course ran along the sh.o.r.e, parallel to it, as it appeared.

He noticed, however, that he was now farther away from it than when he started; but as yet the distance did not seem excessive; in fact, it seemed on the whole preferable, since it gave him a finer view. Before him the sh.o.r.e ran on until it terminated on a headland, and David thought that this would be a good place to fix as the limit of his voyage.

Never was any human being more utterly out of place than David in this sail-boat, and never was any human being more serenely unconscious of his unfitness. David's frame of mind was one of calm, beatific enjoyment. He was quite unconscious of the increase of the distance between his boat and the sh.o.r.e, which grew greater every moment, and equally un.o.bservant of the lapse of time. In times of great enjoyment the hours fly quickly by, and in David's high exaltation of feeling the time thus fled.

At length, even in the midst of his happiness, the sober practical thought obtruded itself of time and s.p.a.ce. How long had he been out? How much time would he have? How far had he gone? He looked at his watch. To his utter amazement and consternation, he found that it was seven o'clock--the time fixed for breakfast. He had been sailing for two hours at least. As to distance, he could not grapple with that thought, but turned hastily, and looked back.

That look gave him but little satisfaction. He could see a line of white at the skirts of the sea; but whether it was Castellamare, or Naples itself, he was unable to guess.

It was a wide, sharp; and painful awakening from his bliss and serene delight, and it was an effectual one. No more placid gliding now; no careless voyaging. Two hours! Seven o'clock!

Already they were at breakfast, and waiting for him. They were wondering about his absence. And when could he join them again? Two hours! If it had taken two hours to come thus far, it would also take fully as much time to go back. Go back?

And where should he go, or how could he get back?

Thus far, David's idea about his course, if he can be said to have had an idea, was, that it lay along the sh.o.r.e, and that somehow he could go back as easily as he had come. But now that the necessity for going back was upon him, he instantly became aware of his utter ignorance, for he had not the faintest idea how to turn the boat.

There was no time for delay, however. Something had to be done, and that immediately. David knew this much at least, that a boat could be turned by means of the rudder; so he began to experiment upon this part of the vessel. He palled the rudder towards him.

The boat turned, and as it turned the sail began to flap, and toss, and snap, in such a way that he grew exceedingly nervous. Suddenly a puff of wind came, and the sheets where whipped out of his nerveless hand, while the sail thus loosened blew forward.

David's heart quaked at this, and he knew not what to do. With some vague idea of bringing the boat back to her former position, and beginning all over again, he pulled the tiller first to one side and then to the other; but to his dismay he found that the boat no longer obeyed it. Then he tried to get possession of the sheets again, and, clumsily crawling forward, he managed to secure them; after which he crawled back to the stern, and clinging to the sheets, began, as well as his nervousness would allow him, to try a series of experiments. First, he pulled the tiller towards him.

At this the boat came up to the wind, and resumed her former course. But this was the very course on which he did not wish to go; so he pushed the tiller from him. Upon this the boat fell away; and the flapping, jerking, whipping, and snapping, which had so alarmed him before, recommenced, and alarmed him more than ever. For some time he continued this, until at length, as he brought the boat up to the wind once more, there came a fresher puff than any which had thus far blown, and the boat lay far over on her side. Terrified out of his wits, David had just sense enough to put her off, and then dropping sheets and tiller, he sank back and looked all around in a panic.

This puff was the beginning of a somewhat stronger breeze--a breeze which would have rejoiced the heart of a sailor, but which carried nothing but terror to the heart of David. What to do now he did not know, nor for some moments did he even think. The wind to his inexperienced senses seemed a hurricane, and the wavelets seemed formidable waves. For a time he lay paralyzed in the stern, expecting every instant to be ingulfed; but as the time pa.s.sed, and his doom was delayed, he began to recover himself, and think about what he should do next.

To him, in his terror and anxiety, the first necessity seemed to be to get rid of that dangerous sail. As it flapped in the wind it seemed to endanger the boat. At all hazards that must be furled or taken down. So once more, by a mighty effort, he crawled forward, and grasping the flying sheets, he drew them in, and tied the sail to the mast, performing, the work in a manner which was very clumsy, yet quite efficient. The upper part of the sail still remained free, bagging out a little, like a balloon; but the lower part was tied up in a way that would defy the tempest itself. After this David felt safer, and crawling back, he drew a long breath, and threw a fearful glance around.

Some time had been taken up with these experiments in navigation, and as David looked, he saw that the result had been not to bring him nearer to Castellamare, but to take him farther out from the sh.o.r.e. The nearest land to him now was an island, but what island he could not say. As his eyes wandered around, they saw nothing that was familiar. A mountain appeared over the land astern, and the smoke on its summit showed that it must be Vesuvius; but it had a different appearance altogether from that with which he was familiar. He could form no idea of the course which he had taken, and could only guess, in a general way, where Castellamare might be.

Some time before, he had been troubled at the thought that he would keep his party waiting; but now he had no trouble whatever on that score. His only trouble or anxiety was about himself. He felt as though he was in a position of tremendous danger, and was being tossed about by pitiless waves, which were hemming him in on every side, like ravening beasts of prey. In reality the pitiless waves were scarcely waves at all, the breeze was only moderate, and there was no possible danger; but David did not know this, and so he suffered as much as though his imaginary danger was real.

Meanwhile a portion of the sail had been left loose, as has been said, and afforded something for the breeze to act upon. The consequence was, that the boat moved along slowly before the wind, and gradually approached the island which David had already noticed.

For some time he remained with his eyes fixed upon the land astern, and Vesuvius. When he withdrew them and looked around, the island was much nearer. He began to see that he was approaching that island, and that before long he would reach it. This prospect excited in his mind the utmost hope, and all his attention was now directed towards that place. The time pa.s.sed slowly, but it did pa.s.s; and at length, about three hours after he had first tried to turn the boat, he found himself so close to the island that he could step ash.o.r.e.

It was now about ten o'clock. The place where David landed was a pebbled beach, bordered by rocks, above which grew trees. As he approached the island he saw houses and people. The houses were plain and small, and the people seemed laboring in the fields.

David's habit of considering all Italian peasants as brigands now excited in his mind a fear which brought fresh anxieties. On this lonely island the whole population might be brigands, who would treat him as lawful prey, and from whom he could hope to fare no better than those early shipwrecked mariners in these seas about whom he had read and studied so much. He congratulated himself that his boat had borne him to a sequestered spot like this, where he might be secure from observation, and have time to look forth and see what manner of men these island brigands might be.

And so, full of anxiety, David drew his boat cautiously upon the beach as far as he could, and secured it; after which he stole up to the shelter of the trees and rocks, so as to reconnoitre. The trees grew along the edge of the rocks, which rose above the beach, to a height of about twenty feet, and formed a grove, which was sufficiently dense for David to feel secure from observation. The grove ran along the edge of the bank for some distance, bat was of no great depth; and David, as he peered through the trees, could see an opening beyond, and the glimpse of white buildings. Here, then, David found himself close to the dreaded neighborhood of the brigands of the island, and it was with a feeling of great trepidation that he recognized the frailty of his present shelter, the insufficiency of his place of concealment, and the necessity that there was of leaving it before long.

To quit it and communicate with the inhabitants of the place, he plainly saw, could not long be avoided. He had as yet eaten nothing, and already he began to feel the cravings of hunger. He would also have to take measures to effect his return to his friends. His hunger and his desire to get back to his friends alike made him desperate; and so, after a few minutes of concealment and fearful inspection of the scene, he began to move forward cautiously, so as to make a more thorough survey of the open ground on the other side of the grove.

Stealing forward as noiselessly and as warily as possible, and keeping himself carefully under the shelter of the heavier foliage and denser underbrush, David worked his way on, and at length found himself on the other side of the grove, where he could peer forth through the leaves of a laurel bush upon the scene.

He saw here a green meadow, which ran up a moderate declivity till it reached a house. The house was a small cottage, of simple and neat appearance, and it stood not more than a hundred yards from the edge of the grove. Cattle were feeding in the meadow. To the right was a vineyard, and on the left an olive grove. On one side of the olive grove there ran a row of cactuses, up from the bank towards the house.

All this David took, in at a glance; but he also saw something which made his heart, beat quick with excitement and anxiety.

He saw a man!

The man was standing in front of the house. He was a big, burly, broad-shouldered, bearded ruffian, with a red shirt, and a slouching felt hat. A short pipe was in his mouth, stuck into the ma.s.s of hair which covered the lower part of his face. His hair was long, and dark, and glossy, and curling; falling in rich cl.u.s.ters below his broad felt hat. He had gaiters and stout shoes, and was engaged upon a rifle, which he seemed to be cleaning.

At the sight of this great, big, bearded, Burly, broad-shouldered ruffian, David's' heart gave a great leap, and suddenly seemed to stop beating. He sat as though petrified, crouching low, as though to avoid observation.

This, then, he thought, was what he had feared, and while trying to avoid the brigands, he had stumbled upon the chief of them all.

In that formidable figure he recognized the true brigand style, and in that bearded face, with its bushy eyebrows and slouching hat, he saw what seemed to him, from that distance, like the ferocity of the implacable Fra Diavolo himself.

So overwhelmed was he, that for some time he could not move. At last he felt a wild impulse to fly. He started back, determining to seek his boat once more. So hurried was he that he was less cautious than before, and catching his foot in a long tendril of some creeper, he fell. In falling, he struck his hand against some cactus or other th.o.r.n.y plant, and the spine pierced his flesh, causing severe pain. In spite of himself a cry burst from him. The cry was instantly repressed, and David, raising himself, prepared to continue his retreat. But first he looked fearfully around to see whether his cry had discovered him.

As he did so his heart sunk within him.

The brigand chief had heard him!

He was walking straight towards him!

CHAPTER XIII.

_David Captured.--The big, bluff, burly, brusque, bearded, broad-shouldered, beetle-browed Bully of a Brigand.--A terrific Inquisition.--David's Plea for Mercy.--The hard-hearted Captor and the trembling Captive.--A direful Threat.--David carried off helpless and despairing.--The Robber's Hold._

So this great, big, bluff, burly, brusque, bearded, broad-shouldered, beetle-browed brigand came straight towards the place where poor David was; walking with great strides; and David, seeing all hope lost, stood still, and awaited the arrival of his formidable enemy.

The consciousness of his utter helplessness filled him with despair, and his ignorance of Italian put it out of his power to disarm the fury or deprecate the wrath of his fierce pursuer. In the few moments that intervened between the first discovery that he was seen and the arrival of his enemy, his brain was filled with confusion, and his bewildered thoughts turned helplessly to his friends whom he had left behind. He thought of their grief. He thought, too, of his home. He thought, of his mother. That home, those friends, that loving, mother, he now might never see again.

Farewell, all dear ones! Farewell, bright past! Farewell, sweet life, and glad light of day! Such were the thoughts, gloomy and despairing, that filled his mind, and tormented his heart; and at the moment that his pursuer entered the grove and stood before him, David looked up with pale face and frightened eyes, and something like a sob escaped him.