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Jethou Part 14

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"Ah, well, I could spin you enough yarns to make a frigate's cable, and a thick one too, if you would only listen to them."

"Very good. Then let me have another strand towards the said ship's cable; but don't spin it _too thick_."

"Let's see, which one shall I give you? Oh, I know; but it's one that did _not_ end in a fine, though it was a very close shave. I was quite a youngster, but anything but a green hand at the business, for I had accompanied my father on many occasions on which he did not bring home merely soles or _longue-nez_ for freight. Just before the occasion of which I am about to tell you there had been a gale, and during the worst of the blow a Norwegian vessel had jettisoned her deck load of spruce poles, and we being out fishing a day or two after, happened, as luck would have it, to fall in with some of them. As we had some spare rope aboard we made a kind of raft of them, and commenced towing them towards the harbour, which was only five or six miles distant.

"Now it so happened that a fishing boat pa.s.sed us as we tugged our timber along, and what is more remarkable, upon my father holding up a white pail a man at the stern of the lugger did the same, then altering her canvas she made a tack (where one was not required), and coming very close to us dropped overboard a series of black tin cases, which were no doubt hermetically sealed, to preserve their contents. These cylinders were so nicely balanced that the rounded sides of them just showed above the water, and no more. Some more cabalistic signs then pa.s.sed between my father and the lugger's skipper, as she stood away on her course, and in an hour was out of sight round the cape. We made fast the cylinders (which were attached to a rope) _underneath_ the raft, and standing in for sh.o.r.e and entered the little port.

"We moored our logs, and my father at once went to the authorities and reported the finding of _a raft_, and as usual an officer came down to inspect and put a mark on the timbers. His inspection was finished, and he was about to go upon other business when a boy who had, with some companions, been scampering about the raft, fell into the water. At once a number of men jumped on the raft, which was nearly submerged by the additional weight; but what was worse the cordage binding the logs together gave way, and behold, bobbing among the floating men were seen a series of floating cylinders! The men were hauled out of the water, and so were the curious tin cases, while with the latter my father was hauled off to appear before the magistrates on a charge of smuggling."

"A clear case I should say, Alec," I remarked.

"Well, so everyone thought; but, strange to say, my father was discharged with a caution. The turning point of the case was, did we pick up separate logs of timber and construct the raft, or did we find the raft _already made_? Our case was that we had picked up the _whole_ raft at sea, and not having examined it, were not supposed to know what was hanging beneath it. Beside which, had not M. Ducas gone straight away and given notice to the proper authorities? We obtained the benefit of the doubt, but it was a very close squeak."

"It was indeed. Now do you not remember any little adventure of your own you could tell me?"

"Adventures! I could fill a whole book with them; some of them so strange that they would appear to most people more like falsehoods than solid fact."

"But, you know, Alec, it is only a hair line that frequently separates the sublime from the ridiculous, and perhaps the line that divides your true tales of the marvellous from story book fiction is so thin, that ordinary persons cannot quite detect it; but never mind, let's have something mild, and I'll undertake to swallow everything you tell me, even if I have to bite it in two first."

"There, now, you're laughing at me before I begin, and you shall not have a strand of a yarn, so you may go to sleep again at once."

Then I had to coax him, and he soon came round. He could not bear to be doubted, much less laughed at.

"Tell me about bringing that little c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l of a yacht from London to Guernsey, that you were speaking about the other day."

"Oh! the 'Dewdrop.' Why, that's no yarn at all."

Then, thought I to myself, here's something really true: and so I afterwards proved it to be.

"The 'Dewdrop' was one of the smallest yachts that ever ventured across the Channel in the month of March. I left London with a fair wind from the west, and got along the London river well enough; but once past the Nore I found it quite lumpy enough to make things very wet and uncomfortable, and after leaving Dover behind I had serious thoughts of putting into Folkestone, or one of the south coast ports, but as I am not one to take a task in hand and then give it up, I shaped my course for Guernsey, making up my mind to give Cape La Hogue a wide berth.

There was a high west wind blowing, and a choppy sea rolling the white horses along at a great pace, so that it required some amount of attention to handle a light built twenty-foot yacht. Everything stood as we bowled along, but having no one to help me I felt dreadfully tired and hungry, for I could not leave the tiller to get a proper meal. Two or three hours more and the wind backed a little to the south south-west and blew harder than ever, while, in proportion as the wind rose, so did the sea, so that the poor little 'Dewdrop,' with nearly a head wind, was labouring heavily. How I got through the night I cannot tell, for with cold and hunger I was nearly dead, and what was more, _I was lost_. When I say lost, I could not tell within a score miles where I was. I looked for the Casquet Light, but could not see it. Then I strained my eyes ahead, trying to penetrate the darkness and discern Alderney Light, but in vain. Turning my head to the left I looked out for the lights of Cape La Hogue, but again was disappointed. Where was I? I could not tell, but I fancied I knew where _I should be_ in a very short time, for the seas were such as to make it a marvel how such a c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l could float in such a turmoil of black seething water. It was a terrible night, for death rode near me on every crested wave, any one of which breaking aboard would have formed my winding sheet. To make matters worse, towards morning a dense sea fog set in, and I so far gave myself up as to say my prayers at least half a dozen times in as many half hours.

"Although apparently very reluctant to do so, the sun did rise at last, and behold, as the fog melted away, not two miles off, on my starboard beam, was Alderney. I never felt such a thrill of joy in my life as when I saw the breakwaters at the entrance to Braye Harbour, extending their arms as if to receive me into their snug embrace. I was glad to get into smooth water once again, and inside a harbour to boot, for I had never expected to set foot on dry land again. The old hands could scarcely believe that I had crossed the Channel in such a gale; but there I was, and there was the 'Dewdrop' to prove my a.s.sertion, therefore they could not doubt it. I pumped her out, and repaired the little craft as well as I could, and on the third day of being in port had eaten everything eatable aboard, and as there was no chance of resuming the voyage yet I had to get some food on 'tick.' This was all very well for a day or two, but after I had been a week in Braye, with no prospect of getting away, the landlord of the tavern from which I obtained my food, told me that as I was a perfect stranger to him he could not afford, to keep me any longer on credit. What security could I give him for further food? This was a poser, but the end of it was that I left my whole kit in p.a.w.n with him, including even my watch. At length, on the twelfth morning after my arrival the sea became calm enough for me to proceed, and with a west wind I was in Guernsey Harbour four hours after leaving Braye. I think this was the most adventurous voyage I ever made, as it took me sixteen days to make two hundred and fifty miles. I think if the pay was a guinea an hour I should not care about again crossing the Channel during an equinoxial gale, especially to be skipper and crew of such a midge as the 'Dewdrop.'"

"That's what I call a decent little yarn, Alec,--_multum in parvo_--one that might be drawn out into quite a long story, and if it were in the hands of some men they would so spin it out, that the telling would occupy almost as many hours as you were days on the voyage. Nothing like condensing the agony and expanding the joy in a yarn, it makes the listeners in a better mode, and more sociable with each other."

"Sociability," said Alec, "among seafaring men is pretty general. It is usually 'Hail, fellow, well met!' with us, for we endeavour to get all the fun we can out of life, because we know that whenever he gets the chance, Death will have his gibe at us. A sailor must, of necessity, often face death, and therefore his motto is, 'Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die'; and death does come to him frequently when least he expects it. I'll tell you an instance of this in which I and some of my relatives were concerned.

"Nine miles from the sh.o.r.e of my native village there is a most dreadful sand-bank, in the form of the letter U, which at low tide is frequently bare, while at high tide not more than two fathoms of water cover it. It has been a death-trap to many a stout vessel, and at the time I am speaking of had nothing near it in the form of a lighthouse, lightship, or even a buoy to mark its dread presence. At daybreak on a rough November morning the look-out on duty discovered that a small trading schooner was fast on the sands, and after the usual half-hour's excitement in the village the surf boat, containing eleven men, was launched and proceeded to the wreck. There was quite a little party of my family aboard, as beside myself, the crew also contained my father, brother, and two cousins.

"To make a long story short, I will simply say, that after a three hours' exhausting pull we reached the vessel, but were grieved to find that of the crew of six hands, only one was left alive. Our attention was therefore turned to the saving of this poor sailor, who had lashed himself to the bowsprit, where he had sat all through the cold night, and was so benumbed that he could scarcely speak. We shouted to him, and made him understand that if he would cut his lashings, we would when opportunity served, pull the boat under the bowsprit so that as we glided by he might drop in and be saved. His knife was quickly at work, and to show that he was free he held up his hands and moved himself on the bowsprit. We gave him a cheer, and watching our best time, glided in on the crest of a wave to deliver the poor fellow. Alas! in his excitement he jumped too soon, and dropped between the bows of the vessel and our heavy boat. His head was for a second visible on the surface, but before an arm could be stretched out to save him the two vessels came crash together, with his head between them. A gush of blood was all we saw of him, for the next moment we were all in the sea, struggling for our own lives. Our boat had stove its bows in against the ship, which we had approached too closely, in our endeavour to save the poor man.

"I was fortunate enough to secure an oar, and working gradually to leeward of the wreck, with great exertion at length got aboard, where, to my joy, I found my father. The boat still floated bottom upwards, with five men upon the keel, who were constantly lashed by the cold waves, till presently a larger wave than the others broke the hold of two of the men, and washed them into eternity. Gradually in the swirl and foam of the mighty waters the boat beat round to the leeward of the ship, and I then saw that the men on the keel were my two cousins and brother. They could all swim, and seeing that my father and I were ready with ropes, quitted their precarious seat on the keel, and struck out towards the ship. My brother and cousin Phillipe, after a terrible struggle, were drawn aboard, but Gabriel, who could not swim so strongly, presently became exhausted and cried out for a rope. The distance appeared too far to fling it, but with a powerful swing my father threw the coil, the end of which fell a yard short of the swimmer. If I live a thousand years I shall never forget the look of despair upon my cousin's face as he sank back in the water completely exhausted. As his head disappeared his hand, like an eagle's claw, came above the surface of the water and gave one wild clutch at the rope which should have proved his salvation, then it disappeared also, and he was no more.

"Thus, out of eleven men, only four were saved. Incredible as it may seem, these were all of them relatives--my brother, father, cousin, and self--it was quite a family party. We were taken off the wreck in the afternoon by another boat and safely landed. Ducas was a lucky name that day, and so it proved three years after, for my brother was the _only_ survivor when his fishing boat was run down, and a crew of eight men perished."

Seeing that we had just had one melancholy recital I thought it best to start something more pleasant, so I handed Alec a large mug of coffee, and said:

"Take a drink, my comrade, and while you are slaking your thirst I will spin you a drinking story."

Then I recounted to him the story of Count Tilly of Brabant, and the Holy Prior. How, during one of Tilly's numerous campaigns, a certain town held out far too long for the general's liking, but at last it was forced to surrender. Tilly had six of the chief men brought before him, and commanded, as the town had laughed at his terms, that they should die, to expiate the rest of the citizens. All kinds of conditions were laid before him to avoid the doom of these unfortunate men, but they were of no avail with him; he was implacable. One, Prior Hirsch, sought him and tried to melt his adamantine heart, and being a man of experience with human foibles, concluded to try the effect of some of the good old wine for which the country is famous, and his own monastery in particular. A huge flagon being introduced, filled with some of the very "A1" of the district, Tilly was induced to try some.

"Very good wine indeed," exclaimed the General, "but it is no use your trying to get round me in that way to pardon your burgesses, for I can no more turn from my word than you can empty this goodly flagon at a draught."

"Is the case indeed so hopeless?" said the priest.

"Yes, indeed," said the Count rising, "Drink me the contents of this flagon at a draught, and your citizens are free; else at noon they swing," and with a mocking smile on his lips he was about to stride out of the room, when the priest arrested his steps with,

"One moment, good Count, and I will e'en essay the task."

Then, taking up the flagon, which held _thirteen pints_, he emptied it to the very dregs, and fell back into his townsmen's arms.

Tilly was as good as his word, and released his captives.

"Whew!" whistled Alec; "where's the salt box? Thirteen pints at a draught--thirteen pints! Why, your old priest would make a good second to our maire's cat!"

"What did his cat do?" queried I, innocently.

"Oh, I thought everyone had heard of Curat's cat," premised Alec. "You must know that his cat was growing old and spiteful, so he determined to kill it; but although he tried various means, and got very near accomplishing his end on several occasions the cat would always appear again to trouble him. One evening, as a final effort in a.s.sa.s.sination, before retiring to bed, he tied a heavy piece of iron round the cat's neck, and dropped it into a water-b.u.t.t which stood in his garden. Next morning he was down betimes, and standing on the tiptoe both of expectation and of his boots, he peeped over the edge of the tub, when lo! there, on the bottom of the b.u.t.t sat the cat looking up at him with tears in her eyes, for she was too heavily anch.o.r.ed to climb out."

But I broke in, "Where was the water?"

"Well, you see," said Alec, "being her only means of escape, _she had swallowed it_, as your priest did the wine, which accounted for her swollen condition. So now, Mr. Thirteen Pints, I think we are about quits."

We were; Alec scored a point.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative scroll]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative chapter heading]

CHAPTER XVII.

THE WILL AGAIN--SEARCHING FOR A CLUE TO THE PAPER--BARBE ROUGE'S WILL--A PROBABLE CLUE--HOPES AND DOUBTS--PERPLEXED--A MEMORABLE TRAWL BY MOONLIGHT--A REAL CLUE AT LAST--THE PLACE OF THE SKULL FOUND.

As soon as I was able I went out walking each day, and so rapid was my convalescence that in ten days I was quite myself again. Alec had during my enforced idleness been extra busy, and had made both house and garden look very trim. He had not been able to go far away, for fear I might want him, and thus had spent his time near home.

From joking in the first instance we had now become quite familiar with our new appellations; thus I was Crusoe, and Alec was Monday, that being the day on which I saved him. For the sake of being as near like the hero of Juan Fernandez as possible, I should have liked to call him Friday; in fact, Good Friday, but as he came on the wrong day, Monday had to be his name.

As I write these pages, I can, in fancy, hear his voice shouting to me on the island,

"Crusoe! Crusoe! where are you? Rob--in--son Cru--soe, ahoy!"

Being August, the fruit was ripe and very plentiful; in fact, it seemed a sin to see it hang on the bushes and trees till it dropped upon the ground, simply to serve the purpose of manure. To obviate this we made a whole copper full of jam, and in making it we got into a pretty pickle, both of us being up to our elbows in stickiness, but the jam _was_ prime!

Whatever I did, or wherever I went, the paper I had found in the old leathern cup always haunted me. Moreover, when it did not haunt _me_, I haunted _it_; for I took it to various parts of the island, and taking my stand in a certain place, would represent the spot shewn by the skull in the drawing. Then Monday would measure in various directions to see if he could get the measurements correct to certain rocks or tree stumps, to see if they tallied with the paper, but it was no use, nothing would coincide with that faded paper.

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Jethou Part 14 summary

You're reading Jethou. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Ernest R. Suffling. Already has 647 views.

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