The Old Tobacco Shop Part 26

Everyone listened. There was indeed the sound of knocking, m.u.f.fled but quite audible. The group standing about the table looked from one to another in silence. Was this some new danger? Were there other pirates to be reckoned with? The Churchwarden put his hand to his back pocket, to be ready with his bottle.

"I think it comes from within this room," said the Third Vice-President.

All eyes examined the room. The walls were unbroken, except by window-slits on one side, the open doorway on another, and on a third a closed door, which no one had before observed. Toby walked over to this closed door, and placed his ear against it. A m.u.f.fled knock sounded from within.

Toby nodded his head to the others, and tried the door. It was locked.

"Lend me your key, Aunt Amanda," said he; and when she had given it to him he inserted it in the lock and turned it and threw wide the door.

Inside was a dark closet hung with cloaks. On the floor sat a man.

Toby stepped back in amazement. The man sat motionless, his legs crossed, gazing out into the lighted room. After a second or two he rose, and stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He said not a word, but continued to rub his eyes until they evidently became used to the light, and gave two or three sniffs, as if he smelt an odour, and found it far from agreeable.

He was a thickset man, dressed in sailor's clothes, in no way like the clothes the pirates had worn. His eyes were small and very close together; his nose was broken and flat; his lower jaw stuck out beyond his upper; an unpleasant fellow enough, if looks were anything. In his belt he carried a long knife. His sailor collar was cut low in front, and his chest was tattooed in red and blue ink.

As he hesitated in the doorway, sniffing the air uneasily and blinking his eyes, the Chairman of the Daft Committee spoke in his calm voice.

"Come in, my good sir," said he. "I should like to take the liberty of asking you a few questions."

The sailorman walked slowly into the room and looked about him.

"What's that there smell in the air?" said he.

"Nothing only my Odour of Sanct.i.ty," said the Churchwarden.

"I don't like it," said the sailorman.

"I can't say that I like it much myself," said the Third Vice-President, "but it is too faint now to be disagreeable. Pray be seated, sir." One of the Committee rose and offered the sailorman his chair. The sailor sat down and gazed at the Third Vice-President, who went on with his speech. "You need have no fear, sir; if Captain Lingo causes you any uneasiness, I may tell you that he is gone, never to return; and all his men with him; even the thirteen dead men who were sitting in these chairs until a few minutes ago."

"What!" said the sailor. "Has them thirteen men been a-sitting here all these years?"

"My dear sir," said the Third Vice-President, "I a.s.sure you we saw them with our own eyes. But you will perhaps be kind enough to tell us who you are, and how you came to be locked up in that closet."

"Humph!" said the sailor, hesitating. "I don't know who you are, nor what you're doing in this here place. However, if Lingo's gone, and--Oh well, I might as well tell you. By the looks of you, I ain't got much cause to be afraid."

"Your courtesy under the circ.u.mstances will be much appreciated," said the Third Vice-President.

"Courtesy be blowed," said the sailorman. "Well, here goes. I'm Matthew Speak, able-bodied seaman, of the brig Cotton Mather, out of New Bedford, Reuben Higginson, master."

"What!" cried Aunt Amanda, almost shrieking. "Are you--? The Cotton Mather! Reuben Higginson! Did you know him? It ain't possible! I can't believe it!"

"It ain't nothing to me whether you believes it or not. I shipped with Reuben Higginson at New Bedford and landed here with him and his crew on this same identical Island, all tight and safe; here on Correction Island, as the cap'n called it."

"What!" cried Aunt Amanda again. "Is this Correction Island? Well, I never! Here we are on Correction Island after all, and we never knew it!

Are you sure?"

"That's what he called it, believe me or not. It ain't nothing to me, but I seen it on the map I sold to Mizzen, and the cap'n wrote it there in his own handwrite; that's all I know; but maybe if you'd hunt up this here Lemuel Mizzen, a sailor with a patch on one eye and--"

"Well, of all things!" exclaimed Aunt Amanda.

"By crackey," said Toby, "I wouldn't 'a' believed it. Lemuel Mizzen!"

"Perhaps you will be so good as to tell us--" began the Third Vice-President.

"Freddie," said Aunt Amanda, "have you got the map?"

"Yes'm," said Freddie, and produced it from his pocket.

Aunt Amanda took it from him and spread it open on the table before Matthew Speak. The sailorman glanced at it and nodded his head.

"That's it," said he. "I don't know how you come by it, but that's it.

Higginson was lost with the Cotton Mather in a storm on his way back to New Bedford, and a lucky chance for me I wasn't aboard. A good while afterwards a fisherman off of this here Island picked up the map at sea in a bottle, and I got it off'n him; he squealed a good bit when I stuck him, but I got it, right enough. And then along comes Mizzen, me being in hiding, and I sold it to him for a set of false whiskers and a tattoo-needle."

"Yes, yes," said Freddie eagerly. "Mr. Mizzen told me about it."

"When Higginson sailed away from here in the Cotton Mather, I didn't go with him. I ran away. Ay, a runaway sailor, that's what I am. I liked the Spanish Main, and I didn't like Higginson; nor yet he didn't like me, neither. But before he sailed, I left my mark on him, I did; four of his teeth out and a black eye; and I won't say but what he broke my nose for me too, right enough. For a Quaker, he hit pretty good. And I stole this bit of writing from him; probably it ain't no account, but Higginson he seemed to set great store by it, so I stole it, and here it is." He took from his pocket a sheet of folded paper and laid it on the table beside the map; it was much soiled, and was evidently very old. He sniffed the air once or twice, and frowned. "I don't like this here smell. It's no good. I say I don't like it. It makes me feel queer.

Well, I guess the old man thought this here bit of writing was safe in his locker right up to the last; I expect he never missed it until he went to put it into the bottle with the map and throw it overboard." He shook the paper in his hand and dropped it again on the table. "And then," he went on, "I fell in with Lingo, and joined his crew."

"Look here," said Toby, "how long ago was all this?"

"How do I know?" said Speak. "I've been shut up in that there cupboard so long I ain't got no account of time. But I remember just before we sailed from New Bedford there was a lot of crazy people talkin' about getting up a fight with England and breakin' loose from her, and being free and independent and what not--a great pack of foolish nonsense--and something or other about some kind of a tea-party in Boston--I dunno. I ain't never heard what come of it. Most likely nothin' at all. I guess it must have been a good while ago. I dunno."

The Churchwarden started, and put his hand to his back pocket. "Are you as old as that?" said he.

"No older nor what you be, old fat-chaps," said Speak. "You attend to your own age, and I'll attend to mine."

"Never mind," said the Third Vice-President, hastily. "Pray tell us how you came to be locked up in that closet."

"Gimme a chanc't," said Speak. "I'd tell you if you'd gimme a chanc't. I joined Lingo. I served him true and faithful, and many a prize we've taken together, and watched many a smart lad walk the plank, that's a fact. Well, thirteen of his men laid a plan to go to his treasure-cave where all his treasure was hid, and make off with it; steal it; ay, ay; steal it, mind you; as bad as that. Now me, I ain't got no patience with dishonesty; I'm all for being honest, I am; so, being as I had learned about this here plan, I went and told the captain. He never winked an eye, not him, but off he sent his other six men, out of the way, and made a fine supper here for them thirteen and sat down with them to it; ay, that he did. But first he gets a little white powder out of a silver box and takes it to Mother Ketch and orders her to put it in their food; and she won't, not she, and nothing he can do can make her; so he comes to me, and being as I hates dishonesty, I puts the powder in their food, and they eats it. Only, being kind of nervous, as you might say, I spills about two-thirds of it on my way upstairs in the dark; and there ain't enough left to do the work complete. What was left I put in the food on the table, and at that minute up the stairs comes the whole thirteen with the captain at their head, and I whips into that there cupboard and shuts the door, a-trembling in my boots for fear of what the captain's going to do to me when he finds out the powder won't work only partly. I can hear 'em all set down to the table laughin' hearty, and the captain's voice a-crackin' jokes and makin' 'em feel at home; but after a bit I don't hear n.o.body's voice but only the captain's, because of the white powder actin' on the others as far as it could, and them probably a-settin' up stiff and tongue-tied in their chairs, unable to move a hand, because of the mite of powder, d'ye see, and me a-settin' quiet in the dark cupboard, a-quakin' all over and wonderin'

what the captain was a-goin' to do to me. And after a bit I don't hear the captain's voice no more, and there ain't no sound at all. And I guess the party is over. And in another minute I hears a key turn in the lock of my cupboard door, very soft and easy, and there I am shut up and locked in as tight as pitch; and there I've been ever since."

"And serve you jolly well right, too, hif you arsk me," said Mr. Punch, with great disgust.

"It's the wickedest piece of business all round I ever heard of in my life," said Aunt Amanda, indignantly. "It's my opinion you're as bad as any of them."

"Worse, if anything," said the Churchwarden, whose hand was still on his back pocket.

"It's a pity the captain didn't knife you in the back with the rest of 'em," said Toby, angrily.

Speak's little eyes flashed fire. He drew his knife and held it out threateningly in his hand, and started to rise. But he did not rise. He remained fixed in his chair, though it was easy to see that he was trying to get up. He sniffed the air, and his head remained fixed in the act of sniffing. The hand which held the knife continued to hold it out, without moving. A look of alarm came into his eyes. It was evident that he had smelled the Odour of Sanct.i.ty, which yet lingered faintly in the room. His outline began to waver; his face became vague; his features ran together; he took on the appearance of vapor; and there in the chair by the table, in place of the thick and solid sailorman, was an almost transparent form of mist or smoke, remotely in the shape of a man.

Everyone waited to see him vanish. The form still lingered; it did not disappear; it continued to sit in its chair with its hand extended, holding out a shadowy knife. The Odour of Sanct.i.ty had lost its full power, and what remained of it was insufficient to make him disappear.

The Churchwarden pulled out his bottle, and commenced to uncork it.

"Stay," said the Third Vice-President, holding up his hand. "I pray you stay. Do not spill any more of that deadly fluid. There has been enough destruction here tonight. I propose that we leave the late Matthew Speak as he is. He belongs to the Society for Piratical Research. He is the Last of the Pirates, and I beg leave to claim him for the Society. As an exhibit, he will be highly valued. We shall from time to time conduct hither parties of the learned or the curious to view the Last of the Pirates. Nothing could be better. Our Society is now revived. I am immensely gratified. Low Dudgeon shall be known as the only Museum in the world with but a single Exhibit. Let the late Matthew Speak repose here in his chair as a permanent relic of a bygone age; the sole Exhibit in a Museum all his own. The interest of such an Exhibit will doubtless warrant a small charge at the door."

The Committee murmured an earnest approval. The Churchwarden looked at his companions, and put the bottle back into his pocket with a sigh.

"I thank you," said the Third Vice-President. "We will now proceed to consider our next step."