Black Bartlemy's Treasure Part 22

"And black rogues they are!" says I.

"Never clapped eyes on worse, pal, kick me endwise else! But Captain Adam's the man for such and I mean to work 'em daily, each and every, at my guns as soon as we be well at sea. Ah, there soundeth Toby Hudd's pipe--all hands on deck--this should be her ladys.h.i.+p coming aboard. So here's me aloft and you alow, and good luck to both, pal."

Saying which he nodded, gave a hitch to his wide galligaskins and rolled away. Now coming to the gun-port I have mentioned I must needs pause there awhile to look out across the misty river already darkening to evening; and thus presently beheld a boat, vague and blurred at first, but as it drew nearer saw in the stern-sheets four gallants who laughed and talked gaily enough, and the m.u.f.fled forms of two women, and in one, from the bold, free carriage of her head, I recognised, despite hood and cloak, my Lady Joan Brandon; nay, as the boat drew in, I heard the sweet, vital tones of her voice, and with this in my ears I caught up my lanthorn and so descended to the orlop. Now as I paused at the narrow scuttle that gave down to my noxious hiding-place, I thought to hear a step somewhere in the gloom below.

"Ha, G.o.dby!" says I. "Are you down there, man?" But getting no answer, I descended the ladder, bethinking me of the rats (whereof I had no lack of company), and coming into my dog-hole, closed the rickety door, and having supped, cast myself down upon my bed and blew out the light, and despite the rustle and scutter away there in the dark beyond my crazy door I was very soon asleep.

And in my sleep what must I dream of but rats with eyes that glared in the dark, that crawled ever nearer, while one that crept upon my bosom grew and swelled into a great fellow with a steel hook in place of one hand, a face with flas.h.i.+ng white teeth and glowing eyes that peered close ere eyes and teeth vanished, and I sunk down and down into a black emptiness of dreamless slumber.

CHAPTER XVI

TELLS HOW WE WERE DOGGED BY THE BLACK s.h.i.+P

I awoke in panic and, leaping up groped in the pitch-dark until my eager fingers closed on the haft of the sheath-knife under my pillow, and with this naked in my hand I crouched awaiting I knew not what; for all about me was direful sound, groans and cries with wailings long drawn out in shuddering complaint. Then, all at once, my panic was lost in sudden great content, and thrusting away the knife I took flint and steel and therewith lighted my lanthorn; since now indeed I knew these dismal sounds nought but the creak and groan of the stout s.h.i.+p, the voice of her travail as she rose to the seas. And as I hearkened, every individual timber seemed to find a voice, and what with this and the uneasy pitching and rolling of the s.h.i.+p I judged we were well under weigh and beyond the river-mouth. This (bethinking me of the damage we had sustained from the great black s.h.i.+p) set me to wondering, insomuch that I reached for my lanthorn, minded to steal on deck that I might know our whereabouts and if it were day or night, since here in the bowels of the s.h.i.+p it was always night. So (as I say) I reached for the lanthorn, then paused as above all other sounds rose a cheery hail, and under the door was the flicker of a light. Hereupon I opened the door (though with strangely awkward fingers) and thus espied G.o.dby lurching towards me.

"What, Mart'n pal," says he, sitting beside me on my berth and setting down the food and drink he had brought, "are ye waking at last?"

"Have I slept long, G.o.dby?"

"You've slept, Mart'n, a full thirty hours."

"Thirty hours, G.o.dby?"

"Split me crosswise else, pal!"

"Mighty strange!" says I, reaching for the flask he had brought, for I felt my mouth bitterly parched and dry, while, added to the consuming thirst, my head throbbed miserably.

"Well, here we be, pal, clear o' the river this twelve hours and more.

And, Mart'n, this is a s.h.i.+p--aye, by hokey, a sailer! So true on a wind, so sweet to her helm, and Master Adam's worthy of her, blister me else!"

"'Tis strange I should sleep so long!" says I, clasping my aching head.

"Why, you'm wise to sleep all ye can, pal, seeing there be nought better to do here i' the dark," says he, setting out the viands before me. "What, no appet.i.te, Mart'n?" I shook my head. "Lord love ye, 'tis the dark and the curst reek o' this place, pal--come aloft, all's bowmon, the fine folk han't found their sea-legs yet, nor like to while this wind holds, Mart'n--so come aloft wi' G.o.dby."

Nothing loth I rose and stumbled towards the ladder, marvelling to find my hands and feet so unwieldy as I climbed; the higher I went the more the rolling and pitching of the s.h.i.+p grew on me, so that when at last I dragged myself out on deck it was no wonder to find the weather very bl.u.s.terous and with, ever and anon, clouds of white spray las.h.i.+ng aboard out of the hissing dark with much wind that piped shrill and high in cordage and rigging.

Being sheltered by the high bulwark hard beside the quarter-deck ladder, I leaned awhile to stare about me and drink in great draughts of sweet, clean air, so that in a little my head grew easier and the heaviness pa.s.sed from me. Ever and anon the moon peeped through wrack of flying cloud, by whose pale beam I caught glimpses of bellying sails towering aloft with their indefinable ma.s.s of gear and rigging, and the heel and lift of her looming forecastle as the stately vessel rose to the heaving seas or plunged in a white smother of foam.

"She rides well, Mart'n!" roared G.o.dby in my ear. "Aha, here's duck of a s.h.i.+p, pal!"

"Where's Adam?" I questioned.

"To'-gallant p.o.o.p, Mart'n. Lord love ye, it's little sleep he's had since we hove anchor. Hark'ee, pal--he's got it into his head as we'm being dogged!"

"Dogged, man--by what?"

"By that same great black s.h.i.+p as fouled us--he has so, pal--roast me else! But come your ways." So saying, G.o.dby climbed to the quarter-deck and I after him, and mounting the p.o.o.p-ladder, presently came on Penfeather, peering hard over our lee.

"Ha, is it you, s.h.i.+pmate!" says he, drawing me out of the wind. "Look yonder, d'ye see aught of a rag o' sail, Martin?" Following his pointing finger, I stared away into the distance across a tumbling spume of waters vague in the half-light. "D'ye glimpse aught, Martin?"

"Nothing, Adam!"

"Wait for the moon, s.h.i.+pmate--now, look yonder!" As the light grew, I swept the distant horizon with my eyes until, all at once against the night, I saw the sheen of distant canvas that gleamed and was gone again as a cloud veiled the moon. "You saw it, Martin?"

"Plainly!" says I, whereupon he sprang away to the men at the helm; came the hoa.r.s.e roar of speaking-trumpet, and decks and waist below seemed alive with scurrying, dim figures; and now was a chorus of shouts and yo-ho-ing as the "Faithful Friend," obedient to his commands, swung off upon an altered course.

"G.o.dby," says Adam, beckoning us where stood the compa.s.s or bittacle, "look'ee, as she bears now we should be nigh enough yon curst s.h.i.+p to learn more of her by peep o' dawn."

"Aye, Cap'n--and then?"

"Then you shall try what you can do wi' one o' those long guns o'

yours."

"Lord love ye, Cap'n, that's the spirit!" cried G.o.dby, hitching joyously at his broad belt, "All I asks is a fair light and no favour!"

"And you have the middle watch, G.o.dby man, so I'll get a wink o'

sleep," says Adam, "but do you call me so soon as we raise her hull.

As for you, Martin, you'll have slept your fill, I judge."

"And yet I'm plaguy drowsy still!" says I.

"There's a spare berth in the coach, comrade, an you're so minded!"

"Nay, Adam, I'll watch awhile with G.o.dby."

"Good! You've keen eyes, Martin--use 'em!" says he, and goes down the ladder forthwith.

And now, pacing the lofty p.o.o.p beside G.o.dby, I was aware that the "Faithful Friend" was dark fore and aft, not a light twinkled anywhere.

"How comes this, G.o.dby!" says I, pointing to the dim shapes of the great stern lanthorns above us.

"Cap'n's orders, Mart'n! We've been dark these two nights, and yet if yon craft is what we think, 'twould seem she follows us by smell, pal, smell. As how, say you? Says I, last night she was fair to be seen having closed us during the day, so out go our lights and up goes our helm and we stand away from her. At dawn she was nowhere and yet--here she is again--if yon s.h.i.+p be the same."

"Which we shall learn in an hour or so, G.o.dby."

"Aye, Mart'n, if she don't smell us a-coming and bear away from us.

And yet she must be a clean, fast vessel, but we'll overhaul her going roomer or on a bowline."

"Roomer? Speak plain, G.o.dby, I'm no mariner!"

"Time'll teach ye, pal! Look'ee now, 'roomer' means 'large,' and 'large' means 'free,' and 'free' means wi' a quartering-wind, and that means going away from the wind or the wind astarn of us; whiles 'on a bowline' means close-hauled agin the wind, d'ye see?"

"G.o.dby, 'tis hard to believe you that same peddler I fell in with at the 'Hop-pole.'"

"Why, Mart'n, I'm a cove as adapts himself according. Give me a pack and I'm all peddler and j'y in it, gi'e me a s.h.i.+p and I'm all mariner to handle her sweet and kind and lay ye a course wi' any--though guns is my meat, Mart'n. Fifteen year I followed the sea and a man is apt to learn a little in such time. So here stand I this day not only gunner but master's mate beside of as tight a s.h.i.+p, maugre the crew, as ever sailed--and all along o' that same chance meeting at the 'Hop-pole.'"

"And though a friend of Bym you knew little of Adam Penfeather?"