The Noank's Log Part 27

Not all his subordinates agreed with him, however, and it was plainly his duty to carry his ship past the place of the now vanished light and of so tremendous an explosion. He did so grumblingly.

"I know 'em," he said. "It's only some trick or other. They're sharp chaps to deal with, on land or sea. They're a kind of Indian fighters, and they're up to anything. Do you know, I believe we've lost her!"

That was what he had done, or else Captain Lyme Avery had lost the seventy-four, for when the next morning dawned her lookouts could discover no sign of the _Noank's_ white canvas between them and the horizon.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE NEUTRAL PORT.

A remarkable place, in the summer of the year 1777, was the old French harbor of Brest. A not altogether pleasant fame had gathered upon it, like drifted seaweed, from historically ancient days. It was said to have been a rendezvous for the old-time vikings of the northern seas, as it was at this day for the smugglers. All of the town that could be seen from the harbor wore a shambling, dingy, antiquated appearance.

Its ill-paved, steep, and dirty streets swarmed with an exceedingly varied and not at all admirable population, although the better cla.s.ses were represented.

Vessels of all sorts were there, as usual, one pleasant afternoon, going out, coming in, at anchor, or moored to the more or less tumbledown wharves and piers. The arrival or departure of one ship more was not an affair to attract especial attention.

One important feature of the character of the ancient port was that whatever might be the existing treaties between the kings of France and Great Britain, Brest was always more or less at war with England.

English sailors were welcome enough, of course, particularly if they were willing to desert, or had recently been paid off, or were supposed to be engaged in smuggling.

Among the vessels at anchor were three French war-ships, one Dutch cruiser, undergoing repairs, and a smart-looking British corvette that was lying well out from sh.o.r.e. All of these were under treaty bonds to keep the peace with each other and with the world in general, but Brest was also distinguished as a port into which all navies at peace with France might bring their prizes for condemnation and sale, according to existing maritime law.

A little after the noon, the loungers on the piers might have taken notice, if they would, of a large schooner that was slipping in through the strongly fortified entrance channel under little more than her foresail. She either had a French pilot on board or was steered by a man who knew the harbor, for she went at once to the right spot to drop her anchor, and a boat shortly put out from her toward the sh.o.r.e.

"There's a French flag on a Yankee-built schooner," remarked an officer of the British corvette. "That's because we are here. I'd like to cut her out, but it wouldn't do. Our war with France hasn't quite begun.

I'm going to see, though, if we can't manage to get some men out of her."

He was a burly, bulldog-looking person, and he made other remarks not at all complimentary to Americans in general, and to one Mr. George Washington in particular.

"According to the latest advices," he a.s.serted, "Howe and Cornwallis are crushing out the Virginia fox's ragam.u.f.fins. Burgoyne will take possession of northern New York and all the New England colonies. Then the king will have his own again, and we shall see some rebels hung."

There was, indeed, an increasingly bitter feeling among loyal Englishmen, caused by what they deemed the needless prolongation of the war. According to their way of thinking, the rebels were unreasonable and should long since have given up their useless attempt to escape from under the rightful rule of the mother country.

On the deck of the schooner, whether she were French or American, only a few men were making their appearance, and she seemed to have a great deal of deck-cargo. It was concerning that, perhaps, that conversation was going on below, and here, at least, the population was even excessive.

"Their gla.s.ses'd tell 'em just what we are, Captain Avery," said one before the boat left, "if we swarmed up."

"They'll find out, anyhow," said the captain. "Our deck-load must get ash.o.r.e at once, before they know too much. It's in the way, too."

From other remarks that were made, it appeared that the cargo to be disposed of had been taken from no less than four unfortunate British merchantmen, and that the schooner had been a long time in gathering it. Good reasons were also given why the ships themselves had not been seized as well as the goods.

The captain was now in the boat, and his face wore a very thoughtful expression.

"Groot," he said, "you talk French better'n I do. Keep close and watch."

"All the lingoes you ever heard of are talked in Brest," said the Dutchman. "I've been here for months at a time. You'll have a visitor from that British corvette, first thing. They won't mind sea law much, either. They never do, and the French never try to follow 'em up sharp."

"Now they've let us run in, I don't care," said the captain. "We've had pretty narrow escapes gettin' here. It was touch and go, along the coast."

Absolute disguise or secrecy was out of the question, perhaps, but when a boat from the _Syren_ shortly afterward pulled to the side of the _Noank_ there was no invitation given to come on board.

"What schooner's this?" roughly demanded the officer of the boat.

"_Noank_, New London," responded Vine Avery, at the rail. "a.s.sorted cargo. We ran right in through a fleet of your sleepyheads. Do you belong to that clumsy corvette, yonder?"

"Shut your mouth!" snapped the officer. "We'll come for you, yet."

"Hurrah for the Continental Congress!" said Vine, maliciously. "If this 'ere wasn't a neutral port we'd board that tub o' yours and take her home with us. We want some more guns and powder anyhow!"

"You're a pirate!" roared the officer. "We've a right to take you out under the French law. You've no protection."

"Keep your distance," said Vine. "We'll be ready for you when you come."

Angry faces were beginning to show behind Vine. The British officer saw steel points like pikeheads, and he heard threatening exclamations, only half suppressed. As the representative of a man-of-war, he had an undoubted right to question the character of any merchant vessel whatever, and to make her commander exhibit his papers, if the meeting took place at sea. In harbor, however, under the guns of neutral forts, the case was different.

The Englishman had really obtained the information he came after, and he had no orders to go any further. He knew exactly the character of this schooner. Even the pike-heads could be read like good handwriting. He replied to Vine with hardly more than an angry growl and went back to report to his commander.

"Privateer, is she?" remarked that gentleman, after hearing him. "I supposed so. I'd lay the _Syren_ alongside of her, if it wasn't for getting into hot water with the French and with the admiral. We'll try for some of her men, on board or on sh.o.r.e, and I'll have that schooner!"

The younger officer grumbled his readiness to cut out the rebel pirate that very night, but his wiser superior only laughed at him.

"There she is," he said, "with her head in the lion's mouth. We needn't shut our jaws on her till the right minute. Then it will be one good bite and we'll have her, men, cargo, and all."

The boat from the _Noank_ reached a wharf, and it had not come there upon any mere pleasure trip.

"Short work, now, Groot," said the captain. "If you can't find your men right away, I'll take a look after mine."

Away they went, along the water front, until they were halted by Groot in front of an immense, dingy old warehouse.

"Opd.y.k.e Freres," he read the faded sign over the entrance of it. "They are here, yet. Brest and Amsterdam. What goods they can't handle in France, they can in Holland. They'll do the fair thing by us,--so we'll be sure to come to them again."

"That's our grip on their honesty, this time," said Captain Avery.

In two minutes more, the entire boat's crew of the _Noank_ was gathered in a counting-room in the rear of the warehouse. It looked as if a hundred generations of spiders had made their webs in its corners, undisturbed.

A short, fat man turned upon a high stool at a desk to inquire, in Dutch:--

"Oh! Mynheer Groot! Not hung yet? Is it some new business?"

Part of Groot's reply was a rapid introduction of his friends, while he stated their errand. There could be nothing but utter mutual confidence in such a case, and the head of the house of Opd.y.k.e Brothers was exceedingly outspoken.

"We take the deck-cargo to-night," he said. "Our lighters will come as soon as it is dark. You will pay the custom-house men ten thousand francs down, so they will not know anything about it. I will be there and one of my brothers. We will take off as much more as we can to-morrow night. You will go to Amsterdam with your next cargo or prizes. The British are increasing their guard. Ha, ha! It is war with them, too, and they take some prizes. We buy of them every now and then."

Guert was listening eagerly to all that was said. He was obtaining new ideas and information as to the manner in which plunder taken at sea by all sorts of war-ships may be marketed.

"It's the war law of buccaneering," he thought. "If England and America were at peace, then our business would be piracy."

It was not easy to make it seem right, and he gave that up, trying to settle his conscience with the a.s.sertion that it was one of those things which cannot be helped.