The Missing Ship Part 25

Though the two old captains were thus of one mind, no one else agreed with them. The house of Ferris, Twigg, and Cash would have nothing to do with the matter; they were not inclined to send good money after bad, and unless they could gain some information, however slight, that the _Ouzel Galley_ was really in existence, they should consider it folly to send another vessel to look for her. They would not even help in searching for a fitting vessel. Captain Tracy, however, heard of one which had been brought into Cork harbour as a prize, and, accompanied by his friend O'Brien, he went over to have a look at her. She was just the vessel they wanted; she was ship-rigged, carried twenty guns, and was quite new, having been only a few weeks out of port when she was captured. She was of great beam, and would carry four or six more guns, if necessary. The purchase was soon completed; and the two captains, having engaged a few hands to navigate her, brought her round to Waterford, where she could be fitted out under their own eyes. One of the points to be settled was her name. Captain O'Brien, bowing to Norah, proposed that she should be called _Love's Messenger_; but to this Norah objected, and it was finally settled that she should be called the _Research_. The captain had devoted Gerald's prize-money, and the whole sum he had at his own disposal, and the amount contributed by Captain O'Brien; but still a sum was required for ammunition, stores, and the wages of the crew. Captain Tracy was in a dilemma; he might obtain a cargo for the vessel, but then he would have to wait for a convoy, as no insurance could otherwise be effected on her, and that would cause a delay. Rather than suffer this, he resolved to sell his patrimony, though very unwilling to do so. Captain O'Brien, who had formerly traded to Bristol, had gone over to that port to look out for efficient officers and any good men he could find to form part of the crew; the remainder could be obtained at Waterford.

Captain Tracy was setting off one morning, resolved to make the final arrangements with his lawyer for the disposal of his property, when just as he left his house he was accosted by a man, whose ragged dress, shoeless feet, and thin cheeks showed that he was suffering from the extreme of poverty. Captain Tracy's well-practised eye convinced him at once, before the man had spoken, that he was a sailor, and believing that he came to beg, he put his hand into his pocket to relieve his necessities, when the man, touching his battered hat, addressed him, "Plase, yer honour, are you Captain Tracy?"

"I am. What is it you want with me?" asked the captain.

"Shure, I'm glad to hear it, for I've been looking for yer honour for many a day," answered the man, "as I've made a vow, if you were still in the land of the living, to give you a message from a dying shipmate, and my mind couldn't rest aisy till I'd done it."

"What's the message, my friend? Is it a long or a short one?" asked the captain, eyeing the man steadily, to judge whether he was speaking with sincerity or uttering a falsehood. "What ship did you belong to, my friend?"

"The _Fair Rosamond_, yer honour, homeward-bound from Port Royal. We met with misfortunes from the time of sailing. We had Yellow Jack aboard us; then a course of foul wind, and when about a hundred leagues from the chops of the Channel, we were dismasted in a heavy gale; and at last, after driving about for many a day till we ran short of water and provisions, we were cast on the coast of Connemara, and only I and three others got to sh.o.r.e--the captain and the rest of the hands who were left alive, for Heaven hadn't spared many of them, were washed away and drowned. I was like to have died too, but some country people took care of me, and I pulled through; and then, remembering my vow, I set off without a shiner in my pocket to give the message to yer honour."

"Come in, my friend," said the captain, by this time convinced that the man was speaking the truth, and becoming anxious to hear what he had got to say. The stranger looked at his ragged garments and hesitated when the captain invited him into the parlour, where Norah was seated, and bade him take a chair; however, plucking up courage, he did as he was desired. Captain Tracy having briefly told Norah what he had just heard, turned to the seaman.

"You have not yet given me your name," he said.

"It's Larry Cregan, yer honour. You may trust to what I say, for I wouldn't desave yer honour, that I wouldn't," answered the man.

"Well, Larry, let me hear all about this message," said the captain, "for you haven't given me a hint yet what it is."

"Well, thin, yer honour, it's nothing but the truth I'll spake," began Larry. "We had well-nigh half our crew pressed out of the _Fair Rosamond_, and had to make up our number with such hands as the captain could get without being over particular. Among them was a countryman of mine--Tim Reardon, he called himself. He looked mighty sickly when he came aboard, and we hadn't been many days at sea before he grew worse.

He wasn't fit for work; but we were short-handed, and he had to stick to his duty. And says I to myself, 'Tim Reardon isn't long for this life, and so I'll do my best to help him;' and when he was aloft or whatever he had to do, I always kept near him, and helped him many a time when he hadn't strength to pull and haul by himself. This won his heart and made him wish, as he said, to do me a good turn; but that wasn't ever likely to be in his power. He grew worse and worse, and at last could no longer crawl upon deck. I used to sit by him when it was my watch below, and spake such words to comfort him as I could think of. One day, howsomdever, he says to me, 'Larry, I've got something on my conscience, and something else in my pocket which I want you to take charge of.'

"'Anything to serve ye, Tim,' says I.

"'I've been an outrageous wicked fellow all my life, and have done all sorts of bad things,' says Tim. 'I've consorted with pirates, and have seen many a robbery and cruel murther committed--but I won't talk of that now. I can't do much good, I'm afraid, but what I can I wish to do, what I'd made up my mind some time ago, when I was well-nigh dying and should have slipped my cable if it hadn't been for the care I received from a countryman, who took pity on me and nursed me as if I'd been his brother. As I got better he told me to cheer up, as he felt sure I should live. "Now, Tim," says he, "if you ever get to Old Ireland, I want you to find out Captain Tracy, who lives near to Waterford, and tell him that I am alive, and, please Heaven, will one day get back to see him and his daughter. I can't tell him whereabouts to look for me, for the best of reasons, that I don't know where I am-- nor have I any chance of making my escape; but you, Tim, may some day get free, and promise me, if you do, that you will take this message to Captain Tracy, and say that hope keeps me alive."'

"'But maybe Captain Tracy won't believe me?' says I. 'If he doesn't, his daughter will; and to make sure, take this bit of paper and show it them,' he replied. He wrote two letters on it; it was but a sc.r.a.p, but it was the only piece he had. I put it in my 'baccy-box to keep it safe. Not two days after that I managed to make my escape, and, getting back to Jamaica, looked out for a homeward-bound vessel. As luck would have it, I shipped aboard the _Fair Rosamond_; and now, as death is hauling away at the tow-line, and I have no chance of fulfilling my promise, if you wish to do me a service and keep my soul quiet, you'll promise to take the message to Captain Tracy and the bit of paper in my 'baccy-box; I'll leave that to you, and everything else I've got on board.

"I promised Tim that I'd do as he wished, and that if I failed he might haunt me, if he'd a mind to do so, till my dying day. Tim has come more than once in my dhrames to remind me, and I've been aiger ever since to do his bidding."

"And where's the bit of paper?" asked Captain Tracy eagerly.

"Here it is, yer honour," answered the seaman, pulling a battered old tobacco-box out of his pocket, from which he produced a yellow sc.r.a.p of paper, on which was written, apparently with the end of a burnt stick, the letters O.M. Norah had been too much excited even to speak. She gazed at the paper.

"Yes--these letters were, I am sure, written by Owen. I knew that he was alive; I was certain of it!" she exclaimed, her bosom palpitating as she spoke with the varied emotions which agitated her. "Oh, father, look at them! They must have been written by Owen; he had no time or means for writing more, and he was sure we should recognise them if they were ever brought to us."

The captain took the paper and examined it. "Yes, I truly believe that these letters were inscribed by Owen Ma.s.sey. Had he attempted to write more, he knew that the whole would probably be obliterated before it could reach us, so he did the wise and thoughtful thing," he said. "I praise Heaven that he is alive. I was sure from the first that the _Ouzel Galley_ did not go down in the hurricane, and this proves it; though what has become of her, or where Owen is imprisoned, is more than I can make out--for imprisoned I take it that he is, and strictly guarded too, or he'd have long since found his way home."

"The more reason, then, that we should go in search for him," exclaimed Norah. "Oh, father, let us sail as soon as possible."

"Captain O'Brien will soon be back from Bristol, and nothing need longer delay us, except the want of funds," said the captain, "and they must first be raised. But with the a.s.surance that Owen is still alive--and I think the account we have heard affords that--I believe that my friends Ferris, Twigg, and Cash will no longer hesitate to advance the required amount. For, though we have no evidence that the _Ouzel Galley_ has escaped destruction, my belief is that she is safe, as well as her master, although we are at present almost as much in the dark as ever as to where she is. Had Tim Reardon survived, we should, I have no doubt, been able to obtain much valuable information to guide us; but as he is dead, we must trust to what we can hereafter gain. We'll hear, however, what further our friend the seaman can tell us. Perhaps, after he has had some food, he may remember more of what Tim said to him."

"I'm mighty hungry, yer honour--it's the truth," said Larry, looking up; on which Norah hastened to get some cold meat and bread, not forgetting a noggin of whisky, at which Larry's eyes glistened. The captain allowed him to eat in silence, and he proved how hungry he must have been by the quickness with which he devoured the viands placed before him. Another examination elicited little further information, however, from the seaman; his messmate had never mentioned the circ.u.mstances under which he had met the person who had given him the paper with the initials O.M. on it. He remembered only that he had once spoken of a fine ship of which O.M. had been master, and which he had not long ago seen, although he either did not know her name or was bound not to divulge it. It was evident, indeed, that the unfortunate Tim Reardon was under some fearful oath which he was afraid to break, and that he had always spoken with the greatest caution, lest he might in any way commit himself.

"Many would call yours a c.o.c.k-and-bull story," observed Captain Tracy, "but I believe you, Larry, and you may have the satisfaction of knowing that you have fulfilled your promise to your dying messmate. Though you ask for no reward, I'll do what I can to repay you for the information you have given me; and now you've had some rest and food, if you'll come in with me to Waterford, I'll give you a fresh rig out, and you can cast away the rags you've got on your back."

"Faith, yer honour, I'm in luck thin. I'm ready to walk a dozen miles or more," exclaimed Larry, jumping up; and, giving a bow with his battered hat and a sc.r.a.pe of the foot, he added, "The top of the morning to you, young lady, and a thousand thanks. It's put fresh life into my heart. Shure, I hope the gentleman you've been inquiring after will come back alive some bright day."

Followed by Larry, the captain hurried into Waterford, where, having got the seaman rigged out from top to toe in a new suit of clothing, he repaired to Ferris, Twigg, and Cash's office. He there wrote a letter to the firm in Dublin, giving an account of the information he had just received, and urging them to advance the sum required to enable the _Research_ to proceed on her voyage. Soon after he had despatched the letter, Captain O'Brien arrived, bringing with him two mates and eight good men.

"And now, old friend," he said, "as I've neither wife nor daughter at home to pipe their eyes at the thoughts of my going, and old Molly, my housekeeper, however unhappy she may be at first, will soon be reconciled to my absence, I've made up my mind to offer myself as a pa.s.senger, to help look after Mistress Norah, in case anything should happen to you. Will you take me?"

"With all my heart," answered Captain Tracy. "I shall be glad of your society on my own account, and still more for Norah's sake; for, though I feel as strong and hearty as I did a dozen years ago, yet it may be Heaven's will to call me, and it would be a comfort to my heart to think that Norah was left with a friend to protect her till Owen Ma.s.sey should appear to claim her as his own."

"That matter is settled then, and I'll just have my traps packed up and give directions to old Molly to take care of the house till my return,"

said Captain O'Brien. "Having done that, I'll be quickly aboard to take charge till you appear, as I've already sent the mates and the men I brought over on board to keep them out of harm's way. I've also given notice that a few prime hands are wanted, and I hope to pick up two or three old shipmates in whom I can place perfect confidence."

As the two old captains left the office they met Larry Cregan, looking a very different being to what he had done a few hours before.

"Plase, yer honour," he said, touching his hat, "I've been told that a few hands are wanted for the _Research_, and though I'm not worth much at present, after I've put some good beef and pork on my bones I shall turn out as good a hand as any of them."

"I'll take you at your word, Larry," said Captain Tracy, "and you may go aboard as soon as you like."

"Shure, it's the safest place for me, yer honour," said Larry, "and maybe I'd otherwise be taking in too much of the potheen, just for joy with thinking that I'd delivered my message and was free of my oath."

Captain Tracy accordingly gave Larry an order to be received on board as one of the crew, while he himself returned homeward, to make further arrangements and to wait for a reply to the letter he had despatched to Ferris, Twigg, and Cash. He and Norah paid Mrs Ma.s.sey a farewell visit. Norah had already carefully told her the information which had been so curiously gained.

"I cannot help you to search for my son," said the widow, "but, though unable to leave my home, I can pray unceasingly that Heaven will protect you in your mission, and reward you for your love and devotion."

Captain Tracy had expressed his earnest desire to sail without delay, and greatly to his satisfaction, much sooner than he expected, he received a letter, sent by a special messenger, from his friends, agreeing to his request and placing the required funds at his disposal.

They also consented to ship a certain amount of goods on board the _Research_, and no sooner was this known than several other merchants in Waterford agreed to add to her cargo. When it was known that Captain Tracy was going out in command of the _Research_, and that Captain O'Brien was to accompany him, as many good men as were required offered to ship on board her, and her crew was thus speedily completed. Great interest was excited when the object of the voyage became generally known, and mult.i.tudes collected on the quays, cheering right heartily as, her warps being cast off, sail was made and the _Research_ glided away down the river. The two captains agreed that no ship they had ever commanded was better found, better armed, or better manned than she was.

A fine northerly breeze earned her out of the harbour, and, all sail being made, she took her departure from the land, and steered a course for the West Indies.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

THE SCENERY OF JAMAICA--PROCEEDINGS AT BELLEVUE--A DESCRIPTION OF THE SLAVES ON THE ESTATE--AN EXPEDITION PROPOSED--ARRIVAL OF MAJOR MALCOLM AND LIEUTENANT BELT--A MORNING RIDE--A PICNIC--VISIT TO A REMARKABLE CAVERN--CURIOUS OBJECTS WITHIN--THE GUIDE'S TERROR AT SEEING SHADOWS IN THE DISTANCE--ARCHIE'S NARROW ESCAPE--WARNINGS--RETURN HOMEWARDS--MEET MARTIN BRINGING ALARMING INTELLIGENCE.

Among the numberless lovely islands which dot the ocean, few surpa.s.s Jamaica in beauty and magnificence of scenery, or are adorned with a richer vegetation. Grand as are the views the island presents to the voyager who approaches it on the southern sh.o.r.e, they are fully equalled by those of its northern coast. At a short distance from the beach the island rises into hills of gentle ascent, generally separated from each other by wide valleys, amid which numerous streams find their way to the ocean. The hills, mostly rounded, are covered with groves of beautiful trees, many of them loaded with rich fruits and flowers scented with the most delicious odours. Here is seen the pimento, remarkable for its beauty and fragrance, the dark green of its foliage finely contrasting with the bright tints of the gra.s.s beneath; while in every direction are fruit trees of various hues, the orange, pineapple, or tamarind, many bearing at the same time blossoms, unripe fruit, and others fit for plucking. In the lower grounds are fertile and level savannahs, plains waving with cane-fields, displaying a luxuriance of vegetation, the verdure of spring blended with the mellow exuberance of autumn. In the distance, running down the centre of the island, rise the Blue Mountains, their tops dimly seen through the fleecy clouds, the greater portion of the range being covered with impenetrable forests, their sides often broken into inaccessible cliffs and abrupt precipices.

These forests and cliffs have afforded for several centuries an asylum and fortress to fugitive blacks, who have there set pursuit at defiance, the game and wild fruits the woods supply enabling them to find subsistence without the necessity of descending into the lower regions to obtain food. Rocks and mountains, woodlands and plains, everywhere beautifully blending, form conspicuous features in the landscape of Jamaica. Dotted over the country are the pens, or farms, of the planters--their residences extensive, though not often more than one story in height, with gardens surrounding them, the works, boiling-houses, and other buildings generally concealed from view by thick woods; while beyond are the cane-fields and the dark, low huts of the negroes, standing together in the form of a village, far more picturesque at a distance than when closely approached. But the woods are the pride and beauty of the country; there the palm, the cocoa-nut, the mountain cabbage, and the plantain are often a.s.sociated with the tamarind and orange, the oleander and African rose growing in rich luxuriance, the scarlet cordium of a glowing red, the jasmine and grenadilla vine forming verdant bowers, the lilac with tufted plumes, the portlandia with white and silky leaves, together with an infinite variety of flower and fruit bearing shrubs.

Such was the scenery surrounding Bellevue House, at which Ellen Ferris and her father had now spent some weeks with the worthy attorney, Mr Twigg, and his wife and family. Although there were rumours that the blacks in distant districts were disaffected, it was difficult to trace whence the reports originated, and it was generally believed that they were without foundation. The Jumby dance which Archie Sandys had witnessed some time before was considered a suspicious circ.u.mstance by Mr Ferris; but the overseer a.s.sured him that the blacks on the estate were all peaceably disposed, and that the a.s.sembly at the hut under the cotton-tree was merely for the performance of some rite of their barbarous religion, and should not cause the slightest uneasiness.

"I will keep an eye on what goes forward, and if I hear of any more meetings of the sort, I will take good care to learn their object," said the overseer. "You must let the blacks amuse themselves in their own way, provided it does not interfere with work."

To Ellen, the blacks appeared happy and contented. She had no opportunity, indeed, of looking very deeply into the state of the matter. If the lash was used, she did not hear the cries of the victims, nor see the marks on their backs. She heard that if they were sick they were taken care of in an hospital, or rather in some huts appropriated to that object, and that they were attended by the medical man who had charge of that and two or three neighbouring estates. He occasionally visited at the house, and appeared to be a good-natured, merry individual, who told amusing stories about the negroes and their wonderful ignorance. The negroes of whom she saw most were the domestic slaves, who seemed attached to their masters, and were always willing and obedient, and, being well fed, looked sleek and contented. The most interesting was Martha, the black nurse of Mrs Twigg's children. Her devoted affection for her charges was remarkable; she seemed to have no care or thought for anything besides them, and though she occasionally joined in the village festivities among her own people, she invariably came back full of anxiety lest any harm should have happened to them during her absence. She was treated by her mistress with great kindness and consideration, and perfect confidence was placed in her. The old grey-headed butler, Martin, was also on a more familiar footing with his master than any white servant of the same position in an English household would have been; while all the other domestic slaves, or boys as they were generally called, were merry fellows, always laughing and joking, though holding old Martin in great respect--their garments consisting of a checked shirt, white trousers, and white jacket, though their feet were shoeless, and they generally dispensed with hats. They looked neat and clean, and had no reason to complain of want of physical comfort. Probably, in other cases where the master was ill-tempered, they would have been liable to punishment, deserved or undeserved.

"But what about the agricultural labourers?" asked Ellen Sandys, who was ever, when he could be so with propriety, by her side--she looking upon him as a well-mannered, intelligent schoolboy; so that Lieutenant Foley would have experienced no jealous feelings had he seen them together.

"Well, they, I suppose, are in their way as happy and contented as they need be," answered Archie. "The field slaves, as we call them, who live out in the huts there, are divided into gangs. The first is composed of the stronger men and women, who work together, the women being able to do almost as much as the men. Their business is to clear the land, dig and plant the cane-fields, and in crop-time cut the canes and attend to the mill-house, where the canes are crushed and the sugar and mola.s.ses manufactured. The second gang is composed chiefly of the bigger boys and girls and more weakly women, who are unable to do the harder work, and the older men who have lost their strength. They have to weed the canes and attend to other lighter duties. The third gang consists of the young children, who are employed chiefly in weeding the gardens, collecting fodder or food for the pigs, and similar easy tasks. The men drivers are employed in looking after the first two gangs, and are allowed to carry whips to hold over them in terror, even if not often used. The gang of children is confided to the charge of an old woman, who carries a long switch; and with her it is no mere emblem of authority, for she employs it pretty frequently on the backs of the urchins. You have seen Mammy Quasheba, and I dare say she appears to you to be a very amiable old dame, for she takes care only to tickle her little charges when you or Mrs Twigg are in sight."

"But do the drivers often make use of those dreadful whips?" asked Ellen.

"On our estate they certainly do not; but on others, seldom or never visited by the proprietors, the only notion they have of maintaining order is the lash," answered Archie. "The unfortunate black is unmercifully flogged for the slightest offence, or for apparent idleness. You ask how many hours they work. Generally before daybreak they are aroused by the head driver, who comes into the village blowing a horn, and if they fail to turn out immediately, they become intimately acquainted with his whip. They work for three hours, and are then allowed half an hour for breakfast, during which they manage to stow way an enormous quant.i.ty of vegetable food. They then labour on till noon, when they have two whole hours, either to take their dinner, to sleep, or to work in their own provision grounds and attend to their pigs and poultry. From two till dark they resume their labours, when they generally knock off and return home, except in crop-time, when it is important to get the canes cut and carried as rapidly as possible, and the boiling-house requires a number of hands. However, they become fat and sleek during that period, as they may suck as much of the cane as they like, and do not look upon the task as especially laborious. As a number of artisans are required on the estate, such as carpenters, blacksmiths, masons, and coopers, the more intelligent lads are selected and sent as apprentices to learn those trades; though they get pretty hardly treated at times, they afterwards possess considerable advantages over the untrained blacks, and often contrive to save enough money to buy their freedom. Altogether, I don't think the negroes of Jamaica can be said to be much worse off than the peasantry in many parts of the old country; they may in some respects be even better off than the Irish peasantry."

"But yet the poorest Irishman would not readily change places with them," remarked Ellen, "and I am afraid, from what I hear, that they are totally neglected as to their religious and moral condition."

"As to that, their mental powers are too low to receive religious instruction, and their habits too confirmed to be improved; and so, provided they can be maintained in health and perform the required amount of labour, few proprietors or overseers trouble themselves much about anything else," answered Archie. "Some, however, have tried to improve them, and have supported ministers and missionaries among them; but I don't know with what success."