Jack Tier; Or, The Florida Reef Part 16

Spike seemed embarra.s.sed, though not to a degree to awaken suspicion in his companion.

"I never sold cargo at sea, long as I've sailed and owned a craft," he answered, as if uncertain what to do. "If you'll pay the price I expect to get in the Gulf, and will take ten barrels, I do n't know but we may make a trade on't. I shall only ask expected prices."

"Which will be--?"

"Ten dollars a barrel. For one hundred silver dollars I will put into your boat ten barrels of the very best brand known in the western country."

"This is dealing rather more extensively than I antic.i.p.ated, but we will reflect on it."

Wallance now indolently arose and ascended to the quarter-deck, followed by Spike, who continued to press the flour on him, as if anxious to make money. But the lieutenant hesitated about paying a price as high as ten dollars, or to take a quant.i.ty as large as ten barrels.

"Our mess is no great matter after all," he said carelessly. "Four lieutenants, the purser, two doctors, the master, and a marine officer, and you get us all. Nine men could never eat ten barrels of flour, my dear Spike, you will see for yourself, with the quant.i.ty of excellent bread we carry. You forget the bread."

"Not a bit of it, Mr. Wallace, since that is your name. But such flour as this of mine has not been seen in the Gulf this many a day. I ought in reason to ask twelve dollars for it, and insist on such a s.h.i.+p as your'n's taking twenty instead of the ten barrels."

"I thank you, sir, the ten will more than suffice; unless, indeed, the captain wants some for the cabin. How is it with your steerage messes, Mr. Archer--do you want any flour?"

"We draw a little from the s.h.i.+p, according to rule, sir, but we can't go as many puddings latterly as we could before we touched last at the Havanna," answered the laughing mids.h.i.+pman. "There is n't a fellow among us, sir, that could pay a sh.o.r.e-boat for landing him, should we go in again before the end of another month. I never knew such a place as Havanna. They say mids.h.i.+pmen's money melts there twice as soon as lieutenants' money."

"It's clear, then, you'll not take any of the ten. I am afraid after all, Mr. Spike, we cannot trade, unless you will consent to let me have two barrels. I'll venture on two at ten dollars, high as the price is."

"I should n't forgive myself in six months for making so had a bargain, lieutenant, so we'll say no more about it if you please."

"Here is a lady that wishes to say a word to you, Mr. Wallace, before we go back to the s.h.i.+p, if you are at leisure to hear her, or them--for there are two of them," put in Archer.

At this moment Mrs. Budd was approaching with a dignified step, while Rose followed timidly a little in the rear. Wallace was a good deal surprised at this application, and Spike was quite as much provoked. As for Mulford, he watched the interview from a distance, a great deal more interested in its result than he cared to have known, more especially to his commanding officer. Its object was to get a pa.s.sage in the vessel of war.

"You are an officer of that Uncle Sam vessel," commenced Mrs. Budd, who thought that she would so much the more command the respect and attention of her listener, by showing him early how familiar she was with even the slang dialect of the seas.

"I have the honour, ma'am, to belong to that Uncle Sam craft," answered Wallace gravely, though he bowed politely at the same time, looking intently at the beautiful girl in the back-ground as he so did.

"So I've been told, sir. She's a beautiful vessel, lieutenant, and is full jiggered, I perceive."

For the first time in his life, or at least for the first time since his first cruise, Wallace wore a mystified look, being absolutely at a loss to imagine what "full jiggered" could mean. He only looked, therefore, for he did not answer.

"Mrs. Budd means that you've a full rigged craft," put in Spike, anxious to have a voice in the conference, "this vessel being only a half-rigged brig."

"Oh! ay; yes, yes--the lady is quite right. We are full jiggered from our dead-eyes to our eye-bolts."

"I thought as much, sir, from your ground hamper and top-tackles," added the relict smiling. "For my part there is nothing in nature that I so much admire as a full jiggered s.h.i.+p, with her canvas out of the bolt-ropes, and her clew-lines and clew-garnets braced sharp, and her yards all abroad."

"Yes, ma'am, it is just as you say, a very charming spectacle. Our baby was born full grown, and with all her hamper aloft just as you see her.

Some persons refer vessels to art, but I think you are quite right in referring them to nature."

"Nothing can be more natural to me, lieutenant, than a fine s.h.i.+p standing on her canvas. It's an object to improve the heart and to soften the understanding."

"So I should think, ma'am," returned Wallace, a little quizzically, "judging from the effect on yourself."

This speech, unfortunately timed as it was, wrought a complete change in Rose's feelings, and she no longer wished to exchange the Swash for the Poughkeepsie. She saw that her aunt was laughed at in secret, and that was a circ.u.mstance that never failed to grate on every nerve in her system. She had been prepared to second and sustain the intended application--she was now determined to oppose it.

"Yes, sir," resumed the unconscious relict, "and to soften the understanding. Lieutenant, did you ever cross the Capricorn?"

"No less than six times; three going and three returning, you know."

"And did Neptune come on board you, and were you shaved?"

"Everything was done secundem artem, ma'am. The razor was quite an example of what are called in poetry 'thoughts too deep for tears.' "

"That must have been delightful. As for me, I'm quite a devotee of Neptune's; but I'm losing time, for no doubt your s.h.i.+p is all ready to pull away and carry on sail--"

"Aunt, may I say a word to you before you go any further," put in Rose in her quiet but very controlling way.

The aunt complied, and Wallace, as soon as left alone, felt like a man who was released from a quick-sand, into which every effort to extricate himself only plunged him so much the deeper. At this moment the s.h.i.+p hailed, and the lieutenant took a hasty leave of Spike, motioned to the mids.h.i.+pman to precede him, and followed the latter into his boat.

Spike saw his visiter off in person, tending the side and offering the man-ropes with his own hands. For this civility Wallace thanked him, calling out as his boat pulled him from the brig's side--"If we 'pull away,'" accenting the "pull" in secret derision of the relict's mistake, "you can pull away; our filling the topsail being a sign for you to do the same."

"There you go, and joy go with you," muttered Spike, as he descended from the gangway. "A pretty kettle of fish would there have been cooked had I let him have his two barrels of flour."

The man-of-war's cutter was soon under the lee of the s.h.i.+p, where it discharged its freight, when it was immediately run up. During the whole time Wallace had been absent, Captain Mull and his officers remained on the p.o.o.p, princ.i.p.ally occupied in examining and discussing the merits of the Swash. No sooner had their officer returned, however, than an order was given to fill away, it being supposed that the Poughkeepsie had no further concern with the brigantine. As for Wallace, he ascended to the p.o.o.p and made the customary report.

"It's a queer cargo to be carrying to Key West from the Atlantic coast," observed the captain in a deliberating sort of manner, as if the circ.u.mstance excited suspicion; "Yet the Mexicans can hardly be in want of any such supplies."

"Did you see the flour, Wallace?" inquired the first lieutenant, who was well aware of his messmate's indolence.

"Yes, sir, and felt it too. The lower hold of the brig is full of flour, and of nothing else."

"Ware round, sir--ware round and pa.s.s athwart the brig's wake,"

interrupted the captain. "There's plenty of room now, and I wish to pa.s.s as near that craft as we can."

This manoeuvre was executed. The sloop-of-war no sooner filled her maintop-sail than she drew ahead, leaving plenty of room for the brigantine to make sail on her course. Spike did not profit by this opening, however, but he sent several men aloft forward, where they appeared to be getting ready to send down the upper yards and the topgallant-mast. No sooner was the sloop-of-war's helm put up than that vessel pa.s.sed close along the brigantine's weather side, and kept off across her stern on her course. As she did this the canvas was fluttering aboard her, in the process of making sail, and Mull held a short discourse with Spike.

"Is anything the matter aloft?" demanded the man-of-war's man.

"Ay, ay; I've sprung my topgallant-mast, and think this a good occasion to get another up in its place."

"Shall I lend you a carpenter or two, Mr. Spike?"

"Thank'ee, sir, thank'ee with all my heart; but we can do without them.

It's an old stick, and it's high time a better stood where it does. Who knows but I may be chased and feel the want of reliable spars."

Captain Mull smiled and raised his cap in the way of an adieu, when the conversation ended; the Poughkeepsie sliding off rapidly with a free wind, leaving the Swash nearly stationary. In ten minutes the two vessels were more than a mile apart; in twenty, beyond the reach of shot.

Notwithstanding the natural and common-place manner in which this separation took place, there was much distrust on board each vessel, and a good deal of consummate management on the part of Spike. The latter knew that every foot the sloop-of-war went on her course, carried her just so far to leeward, placing his own brig, in-so-much, dead to windward of her. As the Swash's best point of sailing, relatively considered, was close-hauled, this was giving to Spike a great security against any change of purpose on the part of the vessel of war. Although his people were aloft and actually sent down the topgallant-mast, it was only to send it up again, the spar being of admirable toughness, and as sound as the day it was cut.

"I don't think, Mr. Mulford," said the captain sarcastically, "that Uncle Sam's gla.s.ses are good enough to tell the difference in wood at two leagues' distance, so we'll trust to the old stick a little longer.

Ay, ay, let 'em run off before it, we'll find another road by which to reach our port."

"The sloop-of-war is going round the south side of Cuba, Captain Spike,"

answered the mate, "and I have understood you to say that you intended to go by the same pa.s.sage."