Brave Old Salt Part 23

"Mr. Hackleford wishes your report forthwith on board the s.h.i.+p."

"Mr. Transit, Mr. Pillgrim is under arrest. You will permit no one to communicate with him except the surgeon."

"Under arrest!" exclaimed Mr. Transit.

"I have no time to explain," replied Somers, as he directed his c.o.xswain to pipe down his boat's crew.

When the second cutter was hauled up to the accommodation ladder, Somers stepped on board, and a few moments later, touched his hat to the first lieutenant on the quarter deck of the Chatauqua.

"I have to report that I have captured the Ben Nevis," said Somers.

"Where is Mr. Pillgrim?" asked Mr. Hackleford, the captain standing by, an interested and excited listener.

"He is wounded, and under arrest, sir."

"How wounded?"

"He fired at me, and in self-defence I was obliged to shoot him. I think he is not seriously wounded. He boarded the Ben Nevis, and had given the captain of her permission to proceed, though the vessel was headed towards Cape Fear."

"You have done well, Mr. Somers," said Captain Cascabel. "Beat to quarters, Mr. Hackleford."

When the crew were at quarters, Mr. Hackleford explained to them what had occurred, and fully justified the course of the fourth lieutenant; whereupon an earnest and enthusiastic cheer rang through the s.h.i.+p.

"Are you satisfied, Tom?" asked Somers of the boatswain.

"Bless ye! I was satisfied before, Mr. Somers. There is only one dark thing in the whole of it."

"What's that, Tom?"

"If Captain Cascabel and Mr. Hackleford both knew that Mr. Pillgrim was a traitor, why did they send him out to capture that steamer? That's what I can't see through."

"Can't you? Well, if they had not sent him, we should not have captured the Ben Nevis."

"I don't see why."

"Don't you? Well, you are not as sharp as you are sometimes."

"I know I'm dull, Mr. Somers, but splinter my figger head if I can see through it."

"The Ben Nevis is good for fifteen knots at least."

"I know that; she did it while we were coming up."

"The Chatauqua can't make more than twelve."

"That's true."

"Then, of course, the Chatauqua could not catch the Ben Nevis."

"That's clear enough. But we were out in the boats, and were close aboard of her."

"And just then she sheered off. Could the boats have overhauled her?"

"Sartinly not; but you could have put a shot through her hull."

"Which might, at that distance, have disabled her, and might not. The chances were all against us. But the moment Mr. Pillgrim hailed her, and swung his cap, she stopped her wheels. They knew very well he would not detain her."

"I see now."

"Probably the captain of the Ben Nevis knew the Chatauqua, and knew that Pillgrim was on board of her, and they were on the lookout for him. If any other officer than myself had been in the second cutter, I am satisfied Mr. Pillgrim would not have returned to his boat, but would have staid on board the Ben Nevis."

"He's a horrible villain--arn't he?" said the honest boatswain.

This conversation took place while Captain Cascabel was preparing his despatches to be sent by the prize steamer to the navy department. When they were completed, Somers was sent for, and he repaired at once to the captain's cabin.

"Mr. Somers, though I can hardly spare you, I feel compelled to send you home as prize master in the Ben Nevis. I have commended you to the department," said Captain Cascabel, as he handed him the despatches.

"Thank you, sir."

A prize crew was at once detailed, with two master's mates to act as first and second officers, and a corporal and three marines to guard the prisoner who was to be sent back in the prize. Somers bade a hasty good by to his brother officers, and with his crew was sent on board the Ben Nevis, whose deck he was now to tread for a brief period as her commander. His orders required him to take the Ben Nevis to Fortress Monroe, and there communicate with the navy department.

"Well, doctor, how is your patient?" asked Somers, when he reached the deck of the prize.

"He will do very well. If you had put the bullet half an inch nearer his brain, you would have finished him. The skin is torn off the side of his head, and I suppose the ball stunned him. He is sitting up now, and appears to be as well as ever, though in no very amiable frame of mind."

"I suppose not."

"He says you are a rebel and a traitor, and he intends to prove it. I told him I thought his wound had affected his brain."

"It would require a long story to explain what he means. Mr. Hackleford has the papers, and I doubt not he will tell you all about it, doctor,"

replied Somers, as he proceeded to arrange for the return voyage.

All who were not going home in the Ben Nevis were sent back to the Chatauqua. The firemen and engineers of the prize steamer were willing to discharge their duties as before, and under the direction of one of the second a.s.sistants from the s.h.i.+p, they were set at work. The first and third cutters pulled away towards the man-of-war, giving three rousing cheers as they departed, and the Ben Nevis steamed away to the northward.

By this time it was ten o'clock at night. The watch was set on deck, and Somers went below to obtain his supper, for he felt the need of some rest and refreshment. The steward, anxious to be on good terms with the new commander, had provided the best meal the larder of the Ben Nevis afforded, and Somers was hungry enough to do it ample justice.

A marine, with cutla.s.s and revolver, stood at the door of Pillgrim's state-room. When Somers had finished his supper, and was about to go on deck, the sentinel informed him that the prisoner had knocked several times on his door.

"See what he wants."

The marine opened the door.

"Who is the prize master?" asked Pillgrim.

The sentinel looked at Somers for permission before he replied.

"Answer him."