Part 25 (1/2)
Though the two old captains were thus of one mind, no one else agreed with them. The house of Ferris, Twigg, and Cash would have nothing to do with the matter; they were not inclined to send good money after bad, and unless they could gain some information, however slight, that the _Ouzel Galley_ was really in existence, they should consider it folly to send another vessel to look for her. They would not even help in searching for a fitting vessel. Captain Tracy, however, heard of one which had been brought into Cork harbour as a prize, and, accompanied by his friend O'Brien, he went over to have a look at her. She was just the vessel they wanted; she was s.h.i.+p-rigged, carried twenty guns, and was quite new, having been only a few weeks out of port when she was captured.She was of great beam, and would carry four or six more guns, if necessary. The purchase was soon completed; and the two captains, having engaged a few hands to navigate her, brought her round to Waterford, where she could be fitted out under their own eyes. One of the points to be settled was her name. Captain O'Brien, bowing to Norah, proposed that she should be called _Love's Messenger_; but to this Norah objected, and it was finally settled that she should be called the _Research_. The captain had devoted Gerald's prize-money, and the whole sum he had at his own disposal, and the amount contributed by Captain O'Brien; but still a sum was required for ammunition, stores, and the wages of the crew. Captain Tracy was in a dilemma; he might obtain a cargo for the vessel, but then he would have to wait for a convoy, as no insurance could otherwise be effected on her, and that would cause a delay. Rather than suffer this, he resolved to sell his patrimony, though very unwilling to do so. Captain O'Brien, who had formerly traded to Bristol, had gone over to that port to look out for efficient officers and any good men he could find to form part of the crew; the remainder could be obtained at Waterford.
Captain Tracy was setting off one morning, resolved to make the final arrangements with his lawyer for the disposal of his property, when just as he left his house he was accosted by a man, whose ragged dress, shoeless feet, and thin cheeks showed that he was suffering from the extreme of poverty. Captain Tracy's well-practised eye convinced him at once, before the man had spoken, that he was a sailor, and believing that he came to beg, he put his hand into his pocket to relieve his necessities, when the man, touching his battered hat, addressed him, ”Plase, yer honour, are you Captain Tracy?”
”I am. What is it you want with me?” asked the captain.
”Shure, I'm glad to hear it, for I've been looking for yer honour for many a day,” answered the man, ”as I've made a vow, if you were still in the land of the living, to give you a message from a dying s.h.i.+pmate, and my mind couldn't rest aisy till I'd done it.”
”What's the message, my friend? Is it a long or a short one?” asked the captain, eyeing the man steadily, to judge whether he was speaking with sincerity or uttering a falsehood. ”What s.h.i.+p did you belong to, my friend?”
”The _Fair Rosamond_, yer honour, homeward-bound from Port Royal. We met with misfortunes from the time of sailing. We had Yellow Jack aboard us; then a course of foul wind, and when about a hundred leagues from the chops of the Channel, we were dismasted in a heavy gale; and at last, after driving about for many a day till we ran short of water and provisions, we were cast on the coast of Connemara, and only I and three others got to sh.o.r.e--the captain and the rest of the hands who were left alive, for Heaven hadn't spared many of them, were washed away and drowned. I was like to have died too, but some country people took care of me, and I pulled through; and then, remembering my vow, I set off without a s.h.i.+ner in my pocket to give the message to yer honour.”
”Come in, my friend,” said the captain, by this time convinced that the man was speaking the truth, and becoming anxious to hear what he had got to say. The stranger looked at his ragged garments and hesitated when the captain invited him into the parlour, where Norah was seated, and bade him take a chair; however, plucking up courage, he did as he was desired. Captain Tracy having briefly told Norah what he had just heard, turned to the seaman.
”You have not yet given me your name,” he said.
”It's Larry Cregan, yer honour. You may trust to what I say, for I wouldn't desave yer honour, that I wouldn't,” answered the man.
”Well, Larry, let me hear all about this message,” said the captain, ”for you haven't given me a hint yet what it is.”
”Well, thin, yer honour, it's nothing but the truth I'll spake,” began Larry. ”We had well-nigh half our crew pressed out of the _Fair Rosamond_, and had to make up our number with such hands as the captain could get without being over particular. Among them was a countryman of mine--Tim Reardon, he called himself. He looked mighty sickly when he came aboard, and we hadn't been many days at sea before he grew worse.
He wasn't fit for work; but we were short-handed, and he had to stick to his duty. And says I to myself, 'Tim Reardon isn't long for this life, and so I'll do my best to help him;' and when he was aloft or whatever he had to do, I always kept near him, and helped him many a time when he hadn't strength to pull and haul by himself. This won his heart and made him wish, as he said, to do me a good turn; but that wasn't ever likely to be in his power. He grew worse and worse, and at last could no longer crawl upon deck. I used to sit by him when it was my watch below, and spake such words to comfort him as I could think of. One day, howsomdever, he says to me, 'Larry, I've got something on my conscience, and something else in my pocket which I want you to take charge of.'
”'Anything to serve ye, Tim,' says I.
”'I've been an outrageous wicked fellow all my life, and have done all sorts of bad things,' says Tim. 'I've consorted with pirates, and have seen many a robbery and cruel murther committed--but I won't talk of that now. I can't do much good, I'm afraid, but what I can I wish to do, what I'd made up my mind some time ago, when I was well-nigh dying and should have slipped my cable if it hadn't been for the care I received from a countryman, who took pity on me and nursed me as if I'd been his brother. As I got better he told me to cheer up, as he felt sure I should live. ”Now, Tim,” says he, ”if you ever get to Old Ireland, I want you to find out Captain Tracy, who lives near to Waterford, and tell him that I am alive, and, please Heaven, will one day get back to see him and his daughter. I can't tell him whereabouts to look for me, for the best of reasons, that I don't know where I am-- nor have I any chance of making my escape; but you, Tim, may some day get free, and promise me, if you do, that you will take this message to Captain Tracy, and say that hope keeps me alive.”'
”'But maybe Captain Tracy won't believe me?' says I. 'If he doesn't, his daughter will; and to make sure, take this bit of paper and show it them,' he replied. He wrote two letters on it; it was but a sc.r.a.p, but it was the only piece he had. I put it in my 'baccy-box to keep it safe. Not two days after that I managed to make my escape, and, getting back to Jamaica, looked out for a homeward-bound vessel. As luck would have it, I s.h.i.+pped aboard the _Fair Rosamond_; and now, as death is hauling away at the tow-line, and I have no chance of fulfilling my promise, if you wish to do me a service and keep my soul quiet, you'll promise to take the message to Captain Tracy and the bit of paper in my 'baccy-box; I'll leave that to you, and everything else I've got on board.
”I promised Tim that I'd do as he wished, and that if I failed he might haunt me, if he'd a mind to do so, till my dying day. Tim has come more than once in my dhrames to remind me, and I've been aiger ever since to do his bidding.”
”And where's the bit of paper?” asked Captain Tracy eagerly.
”Here it is, yer honour,” answered the seaman, pulling a battered old tobacco-box out of his pocket, from which he produced a yellow sc.r.a.p of paper, on which was written, apparently with the end of a burnt stick, the letters O.M. Norah had been too much excited even to speak. She gazed at the paper.
”Yes--these letters were, I am sure, written by Owen. I knew that he was alive; I was certain of it!” she exclaimed, her bosom palpitating as she spoke with the varied emotions which agitated her. ”Oh, father, look at them! They must have been written by Owen; he had no time or means for writing more, and he was sure we should recognise them if they were ever brought to us.”
The captain took the paper and examined it. ”Yes, I truly believe that these letters were inscribed by Owen Ma.s.sey. Had he attempted to write more, he knew that the whole would probably be obliterated before it could reach us, so he did the wise and thoughtful thing,” he said. ”I praise Heaven that he is alive. I was sure from the first that the _Ouzel Galley_ did not go down in the hurricane, and this proves it; though what has become of her, or where Owen is imprisoned, is more than I can make out--for imprisoned I take it that he is, and strictly guarded too, or he'd have long since found his way home.”
”The more reason, then, that we should go in search for him,” exclaimed Norah. ”Oh, father, let us sail as soon as possible.”
”Captain O'Brien will soon be back from Bristol, and nothing need longer delay us, except the want of funds,” said the captain, ”and they must first be raised. But with the a.s.surance that Owen is still alive--and I think the account we have heard affords that--I believe that my friends Ferris, Twigg, and Cash will no longer hesitate to advance the required amount. For, though we have no evidence that the _Ouzel Galley_ has escaped destruction, my belief is that she is safe, as well as her master, although we are at present almost as much in the dark as ever as to where she is. Had Tim Reardon survived, we should, I have no doubt, been able to obtain much valuable information to guide us; but as he is dead, we must trust to what we can hereafter gain. We'll hear, however, what further our friend the seaman can tell us. Perhaps, after he has had some food, he may remember more of what Tim said to him.”
”I'm mighty hungry, yer honour--it's the truth,” said Larry, looking up; on which Norah hastened to get some cold meat and bread, not forgetting a noggin of whisky, at which Larry's eyes glistened. The captain allowed him to eat in silence, and he proved how hungry he must have been by the quickness with which he devoured the viands placed before him. Another examination elicited little further information, however, from the seaman; his messmate had never mentioned the circ.u.mstances under which he had met the person who had given him the paper with the initials O.M. on it. He remembered only that he had once spoken of a fine s.h.i.+p of which O.M. had been master, and which he had not long ago seen, although he either did not know her name or was bound not to divulge it. It was evident, indeed, that the unfortunate Tim Reardon was under some fearful oath which he was afraid to break, and that he had always spoken with the greatest caution, lest he might in any way commit himself.
”Many would call yours a c.o.c.k-and-bull story,” observed Captain Tracy, ”but I believe you, Larry, and you may have the satisfaction of knowing that you have fulfilled your promise to your dying messmate. Though you ask for no reward, I'll do what I can to repay you for the information you have given me; and now you've had some rest and food, if you'll come in with me to Waterford, I'll give you a fresh rig out, and you can cast away the rags you've got on your back.”
”Faith, yer honour, I'm in luck thin. I'm ready to walk a dozen miles or more,” exclaimed Larry, jumping up; and, giving a bow with his battered hat and a sc.r.a.pe of the foot, he added, ”The top of the morning to you, young lady, and a thousand thanks. It's put fresh life into my heart. Shure, I hope the gentleman you've been inquiring after will come back alive some bright day.”
Followed by Larry, the captain hurried into Waterford, where, having got the seaman rigged out from top to toe in a new suit of clothing, he repaired to Ferris, Twigg, and Cash's office. He there wrote a letter to the firm in Dublin, giving an account of the information he had just received, and urging them to advance the sum required to enable the _Research_ to proceed on her voyage. Soon after he had despatched the letter, Captain O'Brien arrived, bringing with him two mates and eight good men.
”And now, old friend,” he said, ”as I've neither wife nor daughter at home to pipe their eyes at the thoughts of my going, and old Molly, my housekeeper, however unhappy she may be at first, will soon be reconciled to my absence, I've made up my mind to offer myself as a pa.s.senger, to help look after Mistress Norah, in case anything should happen to you. Will you take me?”