Part 29 (2/2)
Charron could talk, like many Frenchmen, quite as fast with his mouth full as empty, and he had a man to talk to who did not require anything to be said twice to him.
”No fear of me!” was all he said. ”You keep out of sight, because of your tw.a.n.g. I'll teach them a little good English--better than ever came out of Cornwall. The best of all English is not to say too much.”
The captain and his mate enjoyed their supper, while Carne in the distance bore the pangs of a malady called bulimus, that is to say, a giant's ravening for victuals, without a babe's power of receiving them.
For he was turning the corner of his sickness now, but prostrate and cold as a fallen stalact.i.te.
”Aha! We have done well. We have warmed our wits up. One gla.s.s of what you call the grog; and then we will play a pleasant game with those Englishmen!” Carne heard him say it, and in his heart hoped that the English would pitch him overboard.
It was high time for those two to finish their supper. The schooner had no wheel, but steered--as light craft did then, and long afterwards--with a bulky ash tiller, having iron eyes for las.h.i.+ng it in heavy weather. Three strong men stood by it now, obedient, yet muttering to one another, for another cable's length would bring them into danger of being run down by the frigate.
”All clear for stays!” cried Polwhele, under orders from Charron. ”Down helm! Helm's alee! Steady so. Let draw! Easy! easy! There she fills!”
And after a few more rapid orders the handy little craft was das.h.i.+ng away, with the wind abaft the beam, and her head about two points north of east. ”Uncommon quick in stays!” cried Polwhele, who had taken to the helm, and now stood there. ”Wonder what Britishers will think of that?”
The British s.h.i.+p soon let him know her opinion, by a roar and a long streak of smoke blown toward him, as she put up her helm to consider the case. It was below the dignity of a fine frigate to run after little smuggling craft, such as she voted this to be, and a large s.h.i.+p had been sighted from her tops down channel, which might afford her n.o.bler sport.
She contented herself with a harmless shot, and leaving the gun-brig to pursue the chase, bore away for more important business.
”Nonplussed the big 'un; shall have trouble with the little 'un,” said Master Polwhele to his captain. ”She don't draw half a fathom more than we do. No good running inside the shoals. And with this wind, she has the foot of us.”
”Bear straight for her, and let her board us,” Charron answered, pleasantly. ”Down with all French hands into the forepart of the hold, and stow the spare foresail over them. Show our last bills of lading, and ask them to trade. You know all about Cheeseman; double his prices.
If we make any cash, we'll divide it. Say we are out of our course, through supplying a cruiser that wanted our goods for nothing. I shall keep out of sight on account of my tw.a.n.g, as you politely call it. The rest I may safely leave to your invention. But if you can get any ready rhino, Sam Polwhele is not the man to neglect it.”
”Bully for you!” cried the Yankee, looking at him with more admiration than he expected ever to entertain for a Frenchman. ”There's five ton of cheeses that have been seven voyages, and a hundred firkins of Irish b.u.t.ter, and five-and-thirty cases of Russian tongues, as old as old Nick, and ne'er a sign of weevil! Lor' no, never a tail of weevil!
Skipper, you deserve to go to heaven out of West Street. But how about him, down yonder?”
”Captain Carne? Leave him to me to arrange. I shall be ready, if they intrude. Announce that you have a sick gentleman on board, a pa.s.senger afflicted with a foreign illness, and having a foreign physician. Mon Dieu! It is good. Every Englishman believes that anything foreign will kill him with a vault. Arrange you the trading, and I will be the doctor--a German; I can do the German.”
”And I can do the trading,” the American replied, without any rash self-confidence; ”any fool can sell good stuff; but it requireth a good man to sell bad goods.”
The gun-brig bore down on them at a great pace, feeling happy cert.i.tude that she had got a prize--not a very big one, but still worth catching.
She saw that the frigate had fired a shot, and believed that it was done to call her own attention to a matter below that of the frigate. On she came, heeling to the lively wind, very beautiful in the moonlight, tossing the dark sea in white showers, and with all her taut canvas arched and gleaming, hovered with the shades of one another.
”Heave to, or we sink you!” cried a mighty voice through a speaking trumpet, as she luffed a little, bringing her port broadside to bear; and the schooner, which had hoisted British colours, obeyed the command immediately. In a very few seconds a boat was manned, and dancing on the hillocks of the sea; and soon, with some danger and much care, the visitors stood upon the London Trader's deck, and Sam Polwhele came to meet them.
”We have no wish to put you to any trouble,” said the officer in command, very quietly, ”if you can show that you are what you profess to be. You sail under British colours; and the name on your stern is London Trader. We will soon dismiss you, if you prove that. But appearances are strongly against you. What has brought you here? And why did you run the risk of being fired at, instead of submitting to his Majesty's s.h.i.+p Minerva?”
”Because she haven't got any ready money, skipper, and we don't like three months' bills,” said the tall Bostonian, looking loftily at the British officer. ”Such things is nothing but piracy, and we had better be shot at than lose such goods as we carry fresh s.h.i.+pped, and in prime condition. Come and see them, all with Cheeseman's brand, the celebrated Cheeseman of Springhaven--name guarantees the quality. But one thing, mind you--no use to hanker after them unless you come provided with the ready.”
”We don't want your goods; we want you,” answered Scudamore, now first luff of the brig of war Delia, and staring a little with his mild blue eyes at this man's effrontery. ”That is to say, our duty is to know all about you. Produce your papers. Prove where you cleared from last, and what you are doing here, some thirty miles south of your course, if you are a genuine British trader.”
”Papers all in order, sir. First-chop wafers, as they puts on now, to save sealing-wax. Charter-party, and all the rest. Last bills of lading from Gravesend, but you mustn't judge our goods by that. Bulk of them from St. Mary Axe, where Cheeseman hath freighted from these thirty years. If ever you have been at Springhaven, Captain, you'd jump at anything with Cheeseman's brand. But have you brought that little bag of guineas with you?”
”Once more, we want none of your goods. You might praise them as much as you liked, if time permitted. Show me to the cabin, and produce your papers. After that we shall see what is in the hold.”
”Supercargo very ill in best cabin. Plague, or black fever, the German doctor says. None of our hands will go near him but myself. But you won't be like that, will you?”
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