The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane Part 3

"Why, who said you were?" says he, with great show of indignation.

"Cannot a man by steady endeavor go through a difficulty as I have gone through that board with this knife without doing a mischief? What a fool should I be to counsel you to such an end when our true success depends upon you being good friends with our captain. Nay," he adds, "if I thought you would curb your spirit to it, I would beg you to take Sir Harry's hand, when he offers it to you, and accept his friendship."

"That can I never do."

"So I thought. Howsomever, you must do him no injury or insult at this present. And, harkye, I know it for a fact that he wants to give into your hand a sum of money entrusted to him by your uncle for your particular use, that you might furnish yourself presently with an equipment worthy of his nephew; and this you must not refuse to take.

Laugh as scornfully as you will, but you must take it, and I will tell you for why. When we get to a port, you will have to make the crew merry in return for the hardships they have suffered on your account. You must win them to your side, for we can do nothing else."

"They shall have every penny I get, and welcome. But tell me what you mean when you say we can do nothing without having the men on our side?"

"I mean," says he, "that without them you will get neither riches nor your sweetheart."

"And how, having them, am I to win these ends?"

"Leave that to me. I have promised the achievement, and if you do but work patiently upon my instructions, I will not fall short of my word.

More than this I can not now tell you, but you shall know more hereafter. For the present, you can do nothing but win the affection of the men, and the captain also."

All this was a great mystery to me, and I could nohow fathom to the bottom of it: this only was clear, that I must follow Rodrigues'

bidding, not only because I was bound to do so in a certain measure by reason of my oath, but also because it was good policy. So when I had refreshed myself by sousing my head in a bucket of water, I went above, and, holding on by the bulwarks, was much amazed with the sight of the heaving seas, which I had never before seen as now, all around me, and the way in which the great ship would dive down into the hollow of a wave as if to perdition, and yet the next moment ride upon the crest of it as light as any duck.

While I was standing here, one of the seamen came to me, saying that the captain would speak with me; so I went with him into the roundhouse under the p.o.o.p deck where Sir Harry was, and very cheerful and bright this young man looked in his sea dress. Then, with a n.o.ble, easy air, he begs me to sit down, and, sitting himself, discoursed about the late storm, telling me how we should certainly have been all lost but for the admirable skill and exertions of the mate, Rodrigues (and this every one did allow), and all with perfect self-command and natural civility, as though we had been the best friends in the world. But he did not offer me his hand to take, and I was glad of this, for I could not have taken it without shame, feeling as I still did towards him.

"However," says he, "the work is over, and, please G.o.d, the first part of our voyage will soon be made; then you will be free to do as you like--either to go back to England or to go on with me. For I have not the power to hold you a prisoner, nor have I the wish to keep you with me, except as a friend. That is for you to decide, and I hope, with all my heart, you will decide to share in this enterprise, and return with me a richer and a happier man than ever you could have been had you not sailed with us. And that your choice may be perfectly free, here is a purse of money that Sir Bartlemy entrusted me with for your use. It will pay your voyage home, but if you have need of more for your necessities, I shall be very happy to place my purse at your disposal."

I took the bag of money he offered, thanking him for his civility as well as my untutored tongue would allow. Then he rose, making me a graceful bow, and bade the man who waited at the door to take me to my cabin, which I found very neat and properly furnished, with everything necessary to my convenience, and two good suits of new clothes, besides shirts, stockings, etc.

Rodrigues was mightily pleased when he saw me in my new clothes and with my hair decently combed, and it seemed to me that the seamen eyed me with more respect than they had yet shown me; indeed, I found that this decency did elevate me in my own opinion a great deal, so that I thought better of myself and more hopefully than I had since the beginning of my misfortunes.

The wind continued very high (but prosperous) for nine days after that, and then, making the Canaries, we came into water as smooth as the heart of man could desire, and so cast anchor at Fuerteventura. And here we were very busy for three days, repairing the mischief done us by the storm, and all that time we saw nothing of the _Adventurer_, our consort, which was to have joined us there in case of being separated, so that we gave her up for lost, and I know not who was more cast down about this, Sir Harry Smidmore or Rodrigues. However, on the fourth day the missing ship bore in sight (to our great joy), and by nightfall was anch.o.r.ed alongside of us, but with one mast gone, and so sorely bruised that she looked not the same ship she had been. And it was curious to see how the crew of the _Adventurer_, coming on board the _Sure Hawk_, the men did hug each other and weep for gladness. Amongst them all the most joyful were Rodrigues and Ned Parsons, the seaman I have spoken of as having only one eye, and who was master aboard the _Adventurer_. But what damped Sir Harry's spirits greatly was this, that his dear friend, John Murray, who was captain on our consort, had been washed overboard in the storm, and was no more; and that the men might not see his grief, he went into his own cabin and shut the door, and I think there was no sad heart on board but his.

Presently Rodrigues came to my side, and says he:

"Now is the time to win the hearts of these men. I shall get leave from the captain for them to go ash.o.r.e; do you give them something to make merry with."

I agreed to this with all my heart, and fetching the bag of gold from my cabin which Sir Bartlemy had sent, I bade him distribute every farthing amongst them; and this he did, giving every man equal share, so that each got over a pound, for there was the value of a hundred pounds in the bag, and the two crews numbered four score, as near as may be.

When he had thus made the "dividend," as he called it, Rodrigues told them that it was I who gave the money out of love for them, and the hardships they had borne on my account. Whereupon Ned Parsons cried he would do as much again and a hundred times more for so generous a gentleman, and bade his comrades give me a cheer, which they did with all their lungs, and three times. And I thought this Ned Parsons was a good friend to me, but he was not.

CHAPTER V.

TO MY MORTAL PERIL I OVERHEAR A SORDID SCHEME OF RODRIGUES AND NED PARSONS.

Sir Harry gave leave that all should go on sh.o.r.e who had a mind to, save only such as Parsons and Rodrigues should need to keep on board the _Adventurer_ and the _Sure Hawk_ for their protection; and Rodrigues bade all be gone, saying that he and Ned Parsons would watch the two ships during the night. So the men went off in the barge, one batch after the other, and last of all Sir Harry himself went also to refresh his spirits after the grief of losing his dear friend; and Parsons rowed him to sh.o.r.e. There were then left on the _Sure Hawk_ none save Rodrigues and I. And I being heavy with sleep (it being by that time nine o'clock, as I think) threw myself on my cot within my cabin, and fell off in a doze. While I lay there Rodrigues came to my cabin and saw me by the light of the lamp, as I found out afterwards. But presently awaking, I rose up and went out on the deck, feeling the want of fresh air. And indeed the night would have tempted most men to go forth, being very fair and the moon vastly bright, as it is in those parts.

There was not a soul on the deck, for Rodrigues, seeing me asleep and all clear, had gone into the captain's storeroom to pilfer a bottle of wine; and so without design I sauntered on till coming, as chance would have it, to the main-mast of the ship, I came to a stand, and leaning my back against the stern so that I faced the moon, I fell on meditating on my lot. Whilst I stood there I heard the dip of oars; then the c.h.i.n.k of gla.s.s as Rodrigues set down his bottles right over against where I stood, but on the other side of the great mast, and after that he went to the side and called over, "Come up, Ned, I've that will make us merry, though we be not ash.o.r.e."

"For all that I would rather be ash.o.r.e with our mates," replies Parsons in a grumbling voice as he comes up the side.

"And so we will, man, and many a jolly night will we spend with our mates--when we have no secrets to keep," replies Rodrigues. "Here we have it all to ourselves, and need fear nothing if the drink do give a loose to our tongues."

"Where's Pengilly? He went not ash.o.r.e," says Parsons, when he had tumbled over the bulwarks on to the deck.

"Asleep in the coach where you see the light burning, and is sound as a log. Sit you down here, and we shall see him if he comes out, which is not likely."

So they sat down together on a chest facing the roundhouse, and just on the other side of the mast where Rodrigues had set the bottles, and presently began to drink and talk; yet still I kept where I was, with my back against the mast; firstly, because the moon seemed to spread a calm over my mind which I cared not to dispel, and after that because I became curious to know what they had to talk about.

"Well," says Parsons, in a more cheerful tone, after taking a drink, "how goes it?"

"Famously," replies Rodrigues, clacking his tongue against his teeth and pouring out more wine.

"Have you sounded the men? Have you opened out to them of our project?"

"Nay; not yet. Nor have you, I hope, or they will blab everything before they get sober again. I bade you keep a still tongue, Ned."

"And so I have. There's been other matters to think on. A rare time it has been with us to keep the ship afloat. But I did my part of the business."

"And bravely, I warrant. Tell me how you did it, Ned."

"I caught him a stroke on the head with a crow as he was at prayer, and heaved his body out into the sea by the galley port." 'Twas thus he had cruelly murdered Captain Murray.

"No one saw you!"

"Never a soul. He was missed in the morning, and all think he was washed over by a sea."

"Well, there's one out of the way. 'Twill be Smidmore's turn next."

"When?" asks Parsons.

"That's as hereafter may be. I'm for leaving everything till we have provisioned at Trinidado."

"And I'm for going at it at once. Curse this hanging fire when there's prize to be taken, I say. Now Murray is out of the way you will be made captain of the _Adventurer_, and I reckon I will be master in your place on the _Sure Hawk_. We are well armed and ammunitioned, and shall not lack provisions. Then why should we wait till we've been to Trinidado, I want to know?"

"Because we should have to victual again before going round to the South Sea, and we want no one to get wind of our intent before we're ready to fly our colors. It would be folly to spoil the venture for the sake of a week or two. Besides, we know not how the men will take it."

"How do we stand for men?" asks Parsons, in his grumbling tone again.

"Why, there's Black, and Jarvis, and Kelly, and all those of our old crew who served with us before--they may be depended on."

"That's thirteen men, and we two make fifteen, all told."

"These men, though they pretend to believe that we are going up the Orinoco after a mare's next, are not such fools as to think that I design to end my days there."

"Ay!" says Parsons with a laugh, setting down his cup again. "Nor would they have been fools enough to engage on any such silly venture unless they felt sure something better was to come of it. Well, there's fifteen--go on."

"Of the rest there's a score as desperate follows as ever trod a deck, and ripe for any mischief."