Part 20 (1/2)
”Here, Jakolu!” he cried to one of the natives who stood near him.
”Yes, ma.s.s'r,” answered the st.u.r.dy young fellow, who has been introduced at an earlier part of this story as being one of the missionary's best behaved and most active church members.
”I mean to swim after him, so I leave the charge of the party to Mr b.u.mpus there. You will act under his orders. Keep the men, together, and guard against surprise. We don't know how many more of these blackguards may be lurking among the rocks.”
To this speech Jakolu replied by shaking his head slowly and gravely, as if he doubted the propriety of his young commander's intentions.
”You no can swim queek nuff to save him,” said he.
”That remains to be seen,” retorted Henry, sharply, for the youth was one of the best swimmers on the island--at least the best among the whites, and better than many of the natives, although some of the latter could beat him. ”At any rate,” he continued, ”you would not have me stand idly by while my friend is drowning, would you?”
”Him's not drownin' yet,” answered the matter-of-fact native. ”Me 'vise you to let Jakolu go. Him's can sweem berer dan you. See, here am bit plank, too,--me take dat.”
”Ha! that's well thought of,” cried Henry, who was now ready to plunge, ”fetch it me, quick--and mind, Jakolu, keep your eye on me; when I hold up both hands you'll know that I'm dead beat, and that you must come off and help us both.”
So saying, he seized the small piece of drift-wood which the native brought to him, and, plunging into the sea, struck out vigorously in the direction in which the pastor was still perseveringly, though slowly, swimming.
While Henry was stripping, his eye had quickly and intelligently taken in the facts that were presented to him on the bay. He had seen, on descending the hill, that the man-of-war had entered the bay and anch.o.r.ed there, a fact which surprised him greatly, and that the _Foam_ still lay where he had seen her cast anchor on the morning of her arrival. This surprised him even more--for, if the latter was really a pirate schooner, (as had been hinted more than once that day by various members of the settlement,) why did she remain so fearlessly and peacefully within range of the guns of so dangerous and powerful an enemy? He also observed that one of the large boats of the _Talisman_ was in the water alongside and full of armed men, as if about to put off on some warlike expedition, while his pocket telescope enabled him to perceive that Gascoyne, (who must needs be the pirate captain, if the suspicions of his friends were correct,) was smoking quietly on the quarterdeck, apparently holding amicable converse with the British commander. The youth knew not what to think, for it was preposterous to suppose that a pirate captain could by any possibility be the intimate friend of his own mother.
These and many other conflicting thoughts kept rus.h.i.+ng through his mind as he hastened forward, but the conclusions to which they led him--if, indeed, they led him to any--were altogether upset by the unaccountable and extremely piratical conduct of the seamen who carried off Alice and her companions, and whom he knew to be part of the crew of the _Foam_, both from their costume, and from the direction in which they rowed their little boat.
The young man's perplexities were, however, neutralised for the time by his anxiety for his friend the pastor, and by the necessity of instant and vigorous effort for his rescue. He had just time, before plunging into the sea, to note with satisfaction that the man-of-war's boat had pushed off; and that if Alice really was in the hands of pirates, there was the certainty of her being speedily rescued.
In this latter supposition, however, Henry was mistaken.
The events on sh.o.r.e which we have just described, had been witnessed, of course, by the crews of both vessels, with, as may be easily conjectured, very different feelings.
In the _Foam_, the few men who were lounging about the deck looked uneasily from the war vessel to the countenance of Manton, in whose hands they felt that their fate now lay. The object of their regard paced the deck slowly, with his hands in his pockets and a pipe in his mouth, in the most listless manner, in order to deceive the numerous eyes which he knew full well scanned his movements with deep curiosity.
The frowning brow and the tightly compressed lips alone indicated the storm of anger which was in reality raging in the pirate's breast at what he deemed the obstinacy of his captain in running into such danger, and the folly of his men in having shewn fight on sh.o.r.e when there was no occasion for doing so. But Manton was too much alive to his own danger and interests to allow pa.s.sion at such a critical moment to interfere with his judgment. He paced the deck slowly, as we have said, undecided as to what course he ought to pursue, but ready to act with the utmost energy and prompt.i.tude when the time for action should arrive.
On board the _Talisman_, on the other hand, the young commander began to feel certain of his prize; and when he witnessed the scuffle on sh.o.r.e, the flight of the boat's crew with the three young people and the subsequent events, he could not conceal a smile of triumph as he turned to Gascoyne and said--
”Your men are strangely violent in their proceedings, sir, for the crew of a peaceable trader. If it were not that they are pulling straight for your schooner, where, no doubt, they will be received with open arms, I would have fancied they had been part of the crew of that wonderful pirate, who seems to be able to change _colour_ almost as quickly as he changes _position_.”
The allusion had no effect whatever on the imperturbable Gascoyne, on whose countenance good humour seemed to have been immovably enthroned, for the worse his case became the more amiable and satisfied was his aspect.
”Surely Captain Montague does not hold me responsible for the doings of my men in my absence,” said he, calmly. ”I have already said that they are a wild set--not easily restrained even when I am present; and fond of getting into sc.r.a.pes when they can. You see, we have not a choice of men in these out-of-the-way parts of the world.”
”Apparently not,” returned Montague, ”but I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you order your men to be punished for their misdeeds; for, if not, I shall be under the necessity of punis.h.i.+ng them for you. Is the boat ready, Mr Mulroy?”
”It is, sir.”
”Then, Mr Gascoyne, if you will do me the favour to step into this boat, I will have much pleasure in accompanying you on board your schooner.”
”By all means,” replied Gascoyne, with a bland smile, as he rose and threw away the end of another cigar, after having lighted therewith the sixth or seventh in which he had indulged that day. ”Your boat is well manned and your men are well armed, Captain Montague; do you go on some cutting-out expedition, or are you so much alarmed at the terrible aspect of the broadside of my small craft that--”
Gascoyne here smiled with ineffable urbanity, and bowed slightly by way of finis.h.i.+ng his sentence. Montague was saved the annoyance of having to reply, by a sudden exclamation from his lieutenant, who was observing the schooner's boat though his telescope.
”There seems to be some one swimming after that boat,” said he. ”A man--evidently a European, for he is light-coloured. He must have been some time in the water, for he is already a long way from sh.o.r.e, and seems much exhausted.”