Part 10 (2/2)
”It was very foolish in me, but at all events he has not seen all. He saw quite enough, Ned.” ”Very true, but you should have let him see the pistols, and not have let him see the doubloons.” ”Well, if he wishes to take what he has seen, he shall receive what he has not seen-why, there are only four of them.” ”Oh, I have no fear of them, only it may be as well to sleep with one eye open.” ”When shall we make the land?” ”To-morrow evening with this wind, and it appears to be steady. Suppose we keep watch and watch, and have our pistols out ready, with the great-coats just turned over them', to keep them out of sight?”
”Agreed-it's about twelve o'clock now-who shall keep the middle watch?” ”I will, Jack, if you like it.” ”Well, then, mind you kick me hard, for I sleep devilish sound. Good-night, and keep a sharp look-out.”
Jack was fast asleep in less than ten minutes; and Gascoigne, with his pistols lying by him all ready for each hand, sat up at the bottom of the boat.
There certainly is a peculiar providence in favour of mids.h.i.+pmen compared with the rest of mankind; they have more lives than a cat-always in the greatest danger, but always escaping from it.
The padrone of the vessel had been captivated with the doubloons which Jack had so foolishly exposed to his view, and he had, moreover, resolved to obtain them. At the very time that our two lads were conversing aft, the padrone was talking the matter over with his two men forward, and it was agreed that they should murder, rifle, and then throw them overboard.
About two o'clock in the morning, the padrone came aft to see if they were asleep, but found Gascoigne watching. He returned aft again and again, but found the young man still sitting up. Tired of waiting, anxious to possess the money, and not supposing that the lads were armed, he went once more forward and spoke to the men. Gascoigne had watched his motions; he thought it singular that, with three men in the vessel, the helm should be confided to the boy-and at last he saw them draw their knives. He pushed our hero, who woke immediately. Gascoigne put his hand over Jack's mouth, that he might not speak, and then whispered his suspicions. Jack seized his pistols-they both c.o.c.ked them without noise, and then waited in silence, Jack still lying down, while Gascoigne continued to sit up at the bottom of the boat. At last Gascoigne saw the three men coming aft-he dropped one of his pistols for a second to give Jack a squeeze of the hand, which was returned, and as Gascoigne watched them making their way through the piles of empty baskets he leaned back as if he was slumbering. The padrone, followed by the two men, was at last aft,-they paused a moment before they stepped over the strengthening plank, which ran from side to side of the boat between them and the mids.h.i.+pmen, and as neither of them stirred, they imagined that both were asleep-advanced and raised their knives, when Gascoigne and Jack, almost at the same moment, each discharged their pistols into the breast of the padrone and one of the men, who was with him in advance, who both fell with the send aft of the boat, so as to enc.u.mber the mids.h.i.+pmen with the weight of their bodies. The third man started back. Jack, who could not rise, from the padrone lying across his legs, took a steady aim with his second pistol, and the third man fell. The boy at the helm, who, it appeared, either was aware of what was to be done, or seeing the men advance with their knives, had acted upon what he saw, also drew his knife and struck at Gascoigne from behind; the knife fortunately, after slightly wounding Gascoigne on the shoulder, had shut on the boy's hand-Gascoigne sprang up with his other pistol-the boy started back at the sight of it, lost his balance, and fell overboard.
Our two mids.h.i.+pmen took a few seconds to breathe. ”I say, Jack,” said Gascoigne at last, ”did you ever-” ”No, I never-” replied Jack. ”What's to be done now?”
”Why, as we've got possession, Ned, we had better put a man at the helm-for the speronare is having it all her own way.”
”Very true,” replied Gascoigne, ”and as I can steer better than you, I suppose it must be me.”
Gascoigne went to the helm, brought the boat up to the wind, and then they resumed their conversation.
”That rascal of a boy gave me a devil of a lick on the shoulder; I don't know whether he has hurt me-at all events it's my left shoulder, so I can steer just as well. I wonder whether the fellows are dead.”
”The padrone is, at all events,” replied Jack. ”It was as much as I could do to get my legs from under him-but we'll wait till daylight before we see to that-in the meantime, I'll load the pistols again.”
”The day is breaking now-it will be light in half an hour or less. What a devil of a spree, Jack!”
”Yes, but how can one help it? We ran away because two men are wounded-and now we are obliged to kill four in self-defence.”
”Yes, but that is not the end of it; when we get to Sicily what are we to do? we shall be imprisoned by the authorities-perhaps hung.”
”We'll argue that point with them,” replied Jack. ”We had better argue the point between ourselves, Jack, and see what will be the best plan to get out of our sc.r.a.pe.”
”I think that we just have got out of it-never fear but we'll get out of the next. Do you know, Gascoigne, it appears to me very odd, but I can do nothing but there's a bobbery at the bottom of it.”
”You certainly have a great talent that way, Jack. Don't I hear one of those poor fellows groan?” ”I should think that not impossible.” ”What shall we do with them?” ”We will argue that point, Ned-we must either keep their bodies, or we must throw them overboard. Either tell the whole story, or say nothing about it.”
”That's very evident; in short, we must do something, for your argument goes no further. But now let us take up one of your propositions.”
”Well, then, suppose we keep the bodies on board, run into a seaport, go to the authorities, and state all the facts, what then?”
”We shall prove, beyond all doubt, that we have killed three men, if not four; but we shall not prove that we were obliged so to do, Jack. And then we are heretics-we shall be put in prison till they are satisfied of our innocence, which we never can prove, and there we shall remain until we have written to Malta, and a man-of-war comes to redeem us, if we are not stabbed or something else in the meantime.”
”That will not be a very pleasant cruise,” replied Jack. ”Now let's argue the point on the other side.”
”There is some difficulty there-suppose we throw their bodies overboard, toss the baskets after them, wash the boat clean, and make for the first port. We may chance to hit upon the very spot from which they sailed, and then there will be a pack of wives and children, and a populace with knives, asking us what has become of the men of the boat!”
”I don't much like the idea of that,' said Jack. ”And if we don't have such bad luck, still we shall be interrogated as to who we are, and how we were adrift by ourselves.
”There will be a difficulty about that again-we must swear that it is a party of pleasure, and that we are gentlemen yachting.”
”Without a crew or provisions-yachts don't sail with a clean swept hold, or gentlemen without a spare s.h.i.+rt-we have nothing but two gallons of water and two pairs of pistols.”
”I have it,” said Jack-”we are two young gentlemen in our own boat who went out to Cozo with pistols to shoot sea-mews, were caught in a gale, and blown down to Sicily-that will excite interest.”
”That's the best idea yet, as it will account for our having nothing in the boat. Well, then, at all events, we will get rid of the bodies; but suppose they are not dead-we cannot throw them overboard alive,-that will be murder.”
”Very true,” replied Jack, ”then we must shoot them first, and toss them overboard afterwards.”
”Upon my soul, Easy, you are an odd fellow: however, go and examine the men, and we'll decide that point by-and-bye: you had better keep your pistol ready c.o.c.ked, for they may be shamming.”
”Devil a bit of sham here, anyhow,” replied Jack, pulling at the body of the padrone, ”and as for this fellow you shot, you might put your fist into his chest. Now for the third,' continued Jack, stepping over the strengthening piece-”he's all among the baskets. I say, my c.o.c.k, are you dead?” and Jack enforced his question with a kick in the ribs. The man groaned. ”That's unlucky, Gascoigne, but however, I'll soon settle him,” said Jack, pointing his pistol.
”Stop, Jack,” cried Gascoigne, ”it really will be murder.” ”No such thing, Ned; I'll just blow his brains out, and then I'll come aft and argue the point with you.”
”Now do oblige me by coming aft and arguing the point first. Do, Jack, I beg of you-I entreat you.”
”With all my heart,” replied Jack, resuming his seat by Gascoigne; ”I a.s.sert, that in this instance killing's no murder. You will observe, Ned, that by the laws of society, any one who attempts the life of another has forfeited his own; at the same time, as it is necessary that the fact should be clearly proved, and justice be duly administered, the parties are tried, convicted, and then are sentenced to the punishment.”
”I grant all that.” ”In this instance the attempt has been clearly proved; we are the witnesses, and are the judges and jury, and society in general, for the best of all possible reasons, because there is n.o.body else. These men's lives, being therefore forfeited to society, belong to us; and it does not follow because they were not all killed in the attempt, that therefore they are not now to be brought out for punishment. And as there is no common hangman here, we, of course, must do this duty as well as every other. I have now clearly proved that I am justified in what I am about to do. But the argument does not stop there-self-preservation is the first law of nature, and if we do not get rid of this man, what is the consequence?-that we shall have to account for his being wounded, and then, instead of judges, we shall immediately be placed in the position of culprits, and have to defend ourselves without witnesses. We therefore risk our lives from a misplaced lenity towards a wretch unworthy to live.”
”Your last argument is strong, Easy, but I cannot consent to your doing what may occasion you uneasiness hereafter when you think of it.”
”Pooh! nonsense- I am a philosopher.” ”Of what school, Jack? Oh, I presume you are a disciple of Mesty's. I do not mean to say that you are wrong, but still hear my proposition. Let us lower down the sail, and then I can leave the to a.s.sist you. We will clear the vessel of everything except the man who is still alive. At all events we may wait a little, and if at last there is no help for it, I will then agree with you to launch him overboard, even if he is not quite dead.”
”Agreed; even by your own making out, it will be no great sin. He is half dead already-I only do half the work of tossing him over, so it will be only quarter murder on my part, and he would have shown no quarter on his.” Here Jack left off arguing and punning, and went forward and lowered down the sail. ”I've half a mind to take my doubloons back,” said Jack, as they launched over the body of the padrone, ”but he may have them-I wonder whether they'll ever turn up again.”
”Not in our time, Jack,” replied Gascoigne. The other body, and all the basket lumber, &c., were then tossed over, and the boat was cleared of all but the man who was not yet dead.
”Now let's examine the fellow, and see if he has any chance of recovery,” said Gascoigne. The man lay on his side; Gascoigne turned him over and found that he was dead. ”Over with him, quick,” said Jack, ”before he comes to life again.” The body disappeared under the wave-they again hoisted the sail. Gascoigne took the helm, and our hero proceeded to draw water and wash away the stains of blood; he then cleared the boat of vine-leaves and rubbish, with which it was strewed, swept it clean fore and aft, and resumed his seat by his comrade.
”There,” said Jack, ”now we've swept the decks, we may pipe to dinner. I wonder whether there is anything to eat in the locker.”
Jack opened it, and found some bread, garlic, sausages, a bottle of aquadente, and a jar of wine.
”So the padrone did keep his promise, after all.” ”Yes, and had you not tempted him with the sight of so much gold, might now have been alive.” ”To which I reply, that if you had not advised our going off in a speronare, he would now have been alive.” ”And if you had not fought a duel, I should not have given the advice.” ”And if the boatswain had not been obliged to come on board without his trousers at Gibraltar, I should not have fought a duel.” ”And if you had not joined the s.h.i.+p, the boatswain would have had his trousers on.” ”And if my father had not been a philosopher, I should not have gone to sea; so that it is all my father's fault, and he has killed four men off the coast of Sicily without knowing it---cause and effect. After all. there's nothing like argument; so, having settled that point, let us go to dinner.”
Having finished their meal, Jack went forward and observed the land ahead; they steered the same course for three or four hours.
”We must haul our wind more,” said Gascoigne; ”it will not do to put into any small town; we have now to choose whether we shall land on the coast and sink the speronare, or land at some large town.”
”We must argue that point,” replied Jack. ”In the meantime, do you take the helm, for my arm is quite tired,” replied Gascoigne: ”you can steer well enough: by-the-bye, I may as well look at my shoulder, for it is quite stiff.” Gascoigne pulled off his coat, and found his s.h.i.+rt b.l.o.o.d.y and sticking to the wound, which, as we before observed, was slight. He again took the helm, while Jack washed it clean, and then bathed it with aquadente.
”Now take the helm again,” said Gascoigne; ”I'm on the sick list.” ”And as surgeon-I'm an idler,” replied Jack; ”but what shall we do?” continued he; ”abandon the speronare at night and sink her, or run in for a town?”
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