II
THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY WITH STEPHEN CRADDOCK
Careening was a very necessary operation for the old pirate. On hissuperior speed he depended both for overhauling the trader and escapingthe man-of-war. But it was impossible to retain his sailing qualitiesunless he periodically--once a year, at the least--cleared his vessel'sbottom from the long, trailing plants and crusting barnacles whichgather so rapidly in the tropical seas.
For this purpose he lightened his vessel, thrust her into some narrowinlet where she would be left high and dry at low water, fastened blocksand tackles to her masts to pull her over on to her bilge, and thenscraped her thoroughly from rudder-post to cutwater.
During the weeks which were thus occupied the ship was, of course,defenceless; but, on the other hand, she was unapproachable by anythingheavier than an empty hull, and the place for careening was chosen withan eye to secrecy, so that there was no great danger.
So secure did the captains feel, that it was not uncommon for them, atsuch times, to leave their ships under a sufficient guard and to startoff in the long-boat, either upon a sporting expedition or, morefrequently, upon a visit to some outlying town, where they turned theheads of the women by their swaggering gallantry, or broached pipes ofwine in the market square, with a threat to pistol all who would notdrink with them.
Sometimes they would even appear in cities of the size of Charleston,and walk the streets with their clattering sidearms--an open scandal tothe whole law-abiding colony. Such visits were not always paid withimpunity. It was one of them, for example, which provoked LieutenantMaynard to hack off Blackbeard's head, and to spear it upon the end ofhis bowsprit. But, as a rule, the pirate ruffled and bullied and drabbedwithout let or hindrance, until it was time for him to go back to hisship once more.
There was one pirate, however, who never crossed even the skirts ofcivilisation, and that was the sinister Sharkey, of the barque _HappyDelivery_. It may have been from his morose and solitary temper, or, asis more probable, that he knew that his name upon the coast was suchthat outraged humanity would, against all odds, have thrown themselvesupon him, but never once did he show his face in a settlement.
When his ship was laid up he would leave her under the charge of NedGalloway--her New England quartermaster--and would take long voyages inhis boat, sometimes, it was said, for the purpose of burying his shareof the plunder, and sometimes to shoot the wild oxen of Hispaniola,which, when dressed and barbecued, provided provisions for his nextvoyage. In the latter case the barque would come round to somepre-arranged spot to pick him up and take on board what he had shot.
There had always been a hope in the islands that Sharkey might be takenon one of these occasions; and at last there came news to Kingston whichseemed to justify an attempt upon him. It was brought by an elderlylogwood-cutter who had fallen into the pirate's hands, and in some freakof drunken benevolence had been allowed to get away with nothing worsethan a slit nose and a drubbing. His account was recent and definite.The _Happy Delivery_ was careening at Torbec on the south-west ofHispaniola. Sharkey, with four men, was buccaneering on the outlyingisland of La Vache. The blood of a hundred murdered crews was callingout for vengeance, and now at last it seemed as if it might not call invain.
Sir Edward Compton, the high-nosed, red-faced Governor, sitting insolemn conclave with the commandant and the head of the council, wassorely puzzled in his mind as to how he should use his chance. There wasno man-of-war nearer than Jamestown, and she was a clumsy old fly-boat,which could neither overhaul the pirate on the seas, nor reach her in ashallow inlet. There were forts and artillerymen both at Kingston andPort Royal, but no soldiers available for an expedition.
A private venture might be fitted out--and there were many who had ablood-feud with Sharkey--but what could a private venture do? Thepirates were numerous and desperate. As to taking Sharkey and his fourcompanions, that, of course, would be easy if they could get at them;but how were they to get at them on a large well-wooded island like LaVache, full of wild hills and impenetrable jungles? A reward was offeredto whoever could find a solution, and that brought a man to the frontwho had a singular plan, and was himself prepared to carry it out.
Stephen Craddock had been that most formidable person, the Puritan gonewrong. Sprung from a decent Salem family, his ill-doing seemed to be arecoil from the austerity of their religion, and he brought to vice allthe physical strength and energy with which the virtues of his ancestorshad endowed him. He was ingenious, fearless, and exceedingly tenaciousof purpose, so that when he was still young his name became notoriousupon the American coast.
He was the same Craddock who was tried for his life in Virginia for theslaying of the Seminole Chief, and, though he escaped, it was well knownthat he had corrupted the witnesses and bribed the judge.
Afterwards, as a slaver, and even, as it was hinted, as a pirate, he hadleft an evil name behind him in the Bight of Benin. Finally he hadreturned to Jamaica with a considerable fortune, and had settled down toa life of sombre dissipation. This was the man, gaunt, austere, anddangerous, who now waited upon the Governor with a plan for theextirpation of Sharkey.
Sir Edward received him with little enthusiasm, for in spite of somerumours of conversion and reformation, he had always regarded him as aninfected sheep who might taint the whole of his little flock. Craddocksaw the Governor's mistrust under his thin veil of formal and restrainedcourtesy.
"You've no call to fear me, sir," said he; "I'm a changed man from whatyou've known. I've seen the light again, of late, after losing sight ofit for many a black year. It was through the ministration of the Rev.John Simons, of our own people. Sir, if your spirit should be in needof quickening, you would find a very sweet savour in his discourse."
The Governor cocked his Episcopalian nose at him.
"You came here to speak of Sharkey, Master Craddock," said he.
"The man Sharkey is a vessel of wrath," said Craddock. "His wicked hornhas been exalted over long, and it is borne in upon me that if I can cuthim off and utterly destroy him, it will be a goodly deed, and one whichmay atone for many backslidings in the past. A plan has been given to mewhereby I may encompass his destruction."
The Governor was keenly interested, for there was a grim and practicalair about the man's freckled face which showed that he was in earnest.After all, he was a seaman and a fighter, and, if it were true that hewas eager to atone for his past, no better man could be chosen for thebusiness.
"This will be a dangerous task, Master Craddock," said he.
"If I meet my death at it, it may be that it will cleanse the memory ofan ill-spent life. I have much to atone for."
The Governor did not see his way to contradict him.
"What was your plan?" he asked.
"You have heard that Sharkey's barque, the _Happy Delivery_, came fromthis very port of Kingston?"
"It belonged to Mr. Codrington, and it was taken by Sharkey, whoscuttled his own sloop and moved into her because she was faster," saidSir Edward.
"Yes; but it may be that you have never heard that Mr. Codrington has asister ship, the _White Rose_, which lies even now in the harbour, andwhich is so like the pirate, that, if it were not for a white paintline, none could tell them apart."
"Ah! and what of that?" asked the Governor keenly, with the air of onewho is just on the edge of an idea.
"By the help of it this man shall be delivered into our hands."
"And how?"
"I will paint out the streak upon the _White Rose_, and make it in allthings like the _Happy Delivery_. Then I will set sail for the Island ofLa Vache, where this man is slaying the wild oxen. When he sees me hewill surely mistake me for his own vessel which he is awaiting, and hewill come on board to his own undoing."
It was a simple plan, and yet it seemed to the Governor that it might beeffective. Without hesitation he gave Craddock permission to carry itout, and to take any steps he liked in order to further the object whichhe had in view. Sir Edw
ard was not very sanguine, for many attempts hadbeen made upon Sharkey, and their results had shown, that he was ascunning as he was ruthless. But this gaunt Puritan with the evil recordwas cunning and ruthless also.
The contest of wits between two such men as Sharkey and Craddockappealed to the Governor's acute sense of sport, and though he wasinwardly convinced that the chances were against him, he backed his manwith the same loyalty which he would have shown to his horse or hiscock.
Haste was, above all things, necessary, for upon any day the careeningmight be finished, and the pirates out at sea once more. But there wasnot very much to do, and there were many willing hands to do it, so thesecond day saw the _White Rose_ beating out for the open sea. There weremany seamen in the port who knew the lines and rig of the pirate barque,and not one of them could see the slightest difference in thiscounterfeit. Her white side line had been painted out, her masts andyards were smoked, to give them the dingy appearance of theweather-beaten rover, and a large diamond shaped patch was let into herfore-topsail.
Her crew were volunteers, many of them being men who had sailed withStephen Craddock before--the mate, Joshua Hird, an old slaver, had beenhis accomplice in many voyages, and came now at the bidding of hischief.
The avenging barque sped across the Caribbean Sea, and, at the sight ofthat patched topsail, the little craft which they met flew left andright like frightened trout in a pool. On the fourth evening PointAbacou bore five miles to the north and east of them.
On the fifth they were at anchor in the Bay of Tortoises at the Islandof La Vache, where Sharkey and his four men had been hunting. It was awell-wooded place, with the palms and underwood growing down to the thincrescent of silver sand which skirted the shore. They had hoisted theblack flag and the red pennant, but no answer came from the shore.Craddock strained his eyes, hoping every instant to see a boat shoot outto them with Sharkey seated in the sheets. But the night passed away,and a day and yet another night, without any sign of the men whom theywere endeavouring to trap. It looked as if they were already gone.
On the second morning Craddock went ashore in search of some proofwhether Sharkey and his men were still upon the island. What he foundreassured him greatly. Close to the shore was a boucan of green wood,such as was used for preserving the meat, and a great store of barbecuedstrips of ox-flesh was hung upon lines all round it. The pirate ship hadnot taken off her provisions, and therefore the hunters were still uponthe island.
Why had they not shown themselves? Was it that they had detected thatthis was not their own ship? Or was it that they were hunting in theinterior of the island, and were not on the lookout for a ship yet?Craddock was still hesitating between the two alternatives, when a CaribIndian came down with information. The pirates were in the island, hesaid, and their camp was a day's march from the sea. They had stolen hiswife, and the marks of their stripes were still pink upon his brownback. Their enemies were his friends, and he would lead them to wherethey lay.
Craddock could not have asked for anything better; so early nextmorning, with a small party armed to the teeth, he set off under theguidance of the Carib. All day they struggled through brushwood andclambered over rocks, pushing their way further and further into thedesolate heart of the island. Here and there they found traces of thehunters, the bones of a slain ox, or the marks of feet in a morass, andonce, towards evening, it seemed to some of them that they heard thedistant rattle of guns.
That night they spent under the trees, and pushed on again with theearliest light. About noon they came to the huts of bark, which, theCarib told them, were the camp of the hunters, but they were silent anddeserted. No doubt their occupants were away at the hunt and wouldreturn in the evening, so Craddock and his men lay in ambush in thebrushwood around them. But no one came, and another night was spent inthe forest. Nothing more could be done, and it seemed to Craddock thatafter the two days' absence it was time that he returned to his shiponce more.
The return journey was less difficult, as they had already blazed a pathfor themselves. Before evening they found themselves once more at theBay of Palms, and saw their ship riding at anchor where they had lefther. Their boat and oars had been hauled up among the bushes, so theylaunched it and pulled out to the barque.
"No luck, then!" cried Joshua Hird, the mate, looking down with a paleface from the poop.
"His camp was empty, but he may come down to us yet," said Craddock,with his hand on the ladder.
Somebody upon deck began to laugh. "I think," said the mate, "that thesemen had better stay in the boat."
"Why so?"
"If you will come aboard, sir, you will understand it." He spoke in acurious hesitating fashion.
The blood flushed to Craddock's gaunt face.
"How is this, Master Hird?" he cried, springing up the side. "What meanyou by giving orders to my boat's crew?"
But as he passed over the bulwarks, with one foot upon the deck and oneknee upon the rail, a tow-bearded man, whom he had never before observedaboard his vessel, grabbed suddenly at his pistol. Craddock clutched atthe fellow's wrist, but at the same instant his mate snatched thecutlass from his side.
"What roguery is this?" shouted Craddock looking furiously around him.But the crew stood in little knots about the deck, laughing andwhispering amongst themselves without showing any desire to go to hisassistance. Even in that hurried glance Craddock noticed that they weredressed in the most singular manner, with long riding-coats,full-skirted velvet gowns and coloured ribands at their knees, more likemen of fashion than seamen.
As he looked at their grotesque figures he struck his brow with hisclenched fist to be sure that he was awake. The deck seemed to be muchdirtier than when he had left it, and there were strange, sun-blackenedfaces turned upon him from every side. Not one of them did he know saveonly Joshua Hird. Had the ship been captured in his absence? Were theseSharkey's men who were around him? At the thought he broke furiouslyaway and tried to climb over to his boat, but a dozen hands were on himin an instant, and he was pushed aft through the open door of his owncabin.
And it was all different from the cabin which he had left. The floor wasdifferent, the ceiling was different, the furniture was different. Hishad been plain and austere. This was sumptuous and yet dirty, hung withrare velvet curtains splashed with wine-stains, and panelled with costlywoods which were pocked with pistol-marks.
On the table was a great chart of the Caribbean Sea, and beside it, withcompasses in his hand, sat a clean-shaven, pale-faced man with a fur capand a claret-coloured coat of damask. Craddock turned white under hisfreckles as he looked upon the long, thin, high-nostrilled nose and thered-rimmed eyes which were turned upon him with the fixed, humorous gazeof the master player who has left his opponent without a move.
"Sharkey?" cried Craddock.
Sharkey's thin lips opened and he broke into his high, sniggering laugh.
"You fool!" he cried, and, leaning over, he stabbed Craddock's shoulderagain and again with his compasses. "You poor, dull-witted fool, wouldyou match yourself against me?"
It was not the pain of the wounds, but it was the contempt in Sharkey'svoice which turned Craddock into a savage madman. He flew at the pirate,roaring with rage, striking, kicking, writhing, and foaming. It took sixmen to drag him down on to the floor amidst the splintered remains ofthe table--and not one of the six who did not bear the prisoner's markupon him. But Sharkey still surveyed him with the same contemptuous eye.From outside there came the crash of breaking wood and the clamour ofstartled voices.
"What is that?" asked Sharkey.
"They have stove the boat with cold shot, and the men are in the water."
"Let them stay there," said the pirate. "Now, Craddock, you know whereyou are. You are aboard my ship the _Happy Delivery_, and you lie at mymercy. I knew you for a stout seaman, you rogue, before you took to thislong-shore canting. Your hands then were no cleaner than my own. Willyou sign articles, as your mate has done, and join us, or shall I heaveyou over to follo
w your ship's company?"
"Where is my ship?" asked Craddock.
"Scuttled in the bay."
"And the hands?"
"In the bay, too."
"Hock him and heave him over," said Sharkey.
Many rough hands had dragged Craddock out upon deck, and Galloway, thequartermaster, had already drawn his hangar to cripple him, when Sharkeycame hurrying from his cabin with an eager face.
"We can do better with the hound!" he cried. "Sink me if it is not arare plan. Throw him into the sail-room with the irons on, and do youcome here, quartermaster, that I may tell you what I have in my mind."
So Craddock, bruised and wounded in soul and body, was thrown into thedark sail-room, so fettered that he could not stir hand or foot, but hisNorthern blood was running strong in his veins, and his grim spiritaspired only to make such an ending as might go some way towards atoningfor the evil of his life. All night he lay in the curve of the bilgelistening to the rush of the water and the straining of the timberswhich told him that the ship was at sea, and driving fast. In the earlymorning some one came crawling to him in the darkness over the heaps ofsails.
"Here's rum and biscuits," said the voice of his late mate. "It's at therisk of my life, Master Craddock, that I bring them to you."
"It was you who trapped me and caught me as in a snare!" cried Craddock."How shall you answer for what you have done?"
"What I did I did with the point of a knife betwixt my blade-bones."
"God forgive you for a coward, Joshua Hird. How came you into theirhands?"
"Why, Master Craddock, the pirate ship came back from its careening uponthe very day that you left us. They laid us aboard, and, short-handed aswe were, with the best of the men ashore with you, we could offer but apoor defence. Some were cut down, and they were the happiest. The otherswere killed afterwards. As to me, I saved my life by signing on withthem."
"And they scuttled my ship?"
"They scuttled her, and then Sharkey and his men, who had been watchingus from the brushwood, came off to the ship. His main-yard had beencracked and fished last voyage, so he had suspicions of us, seeing thatours was whole. Then he thought of laying the same trap for you whichyou had set for him."
Craddock groaned.
"How came I not to see that fished main-yard?" he muttered. "But whitherare we bound?"
"We are running north and west."
"North and west! Then we are heading back towards Jamaica."
"With an eight-knot wind."
"Have you heard what they mean to do with me?"
"I have not heard. If you would but sign the articles----"
"Enough, Joshua Hird! I have risked my soul too often."
"As you wish! I have done what I could. Farewell!"
All that night and the next day the _Happy Delivery_ ran before theeasterly trades, and Stephen Craddock lay in the dark of the sail-roomworking patiently at his wrist-irons. One he had slipped off at the costof a row of broken and bleeding knuckles, but, do what he would, hecould not free the other, and his ankles were securely fastened.
From hour to hour he heard the swish of the water, and knew that thebarque must be driving with all set, in front of the trade wind. In thatcase they must be nearly back again to Jamaica by now. What plan couldSharkey have in his head, and what use did he hope to make of him?Craddock set his teeth, and vowed that if he had once been a villainfrom choice he would, at least, never be one by compulsion.
On the second morning Craddock became aware that sail had been reducedin the vessel, and that she was tacking slowly, with a light breeze onher beam. The varying slope of the sail-room and the sounds from thedeck told his practised senses exactly what she was doing. The shortreaches showed him that she was manoeuvring near shore, and making forsome definite point. If so, she must have reached Jamaica. But whatcould she be doing there?
And then suddenly there was a burst of hearty cheering from the deck,and then the crash of a gun above his head, and then the answeringbooming of guns from far over the water. Craddock sat up and strainedhis ears. Was the ship in action? Only the one gun had been fired, andthough many had answered there were none of the crashings which told ofa shot coming home.
Then, if it was not an action, it must be a salute. But who would saluteSharkey, the pirate? It could only be another pirate ship which would doso. So Craddock lay back again with a groan, and continued to work atthe manacle which still held his right wrist.
But suddenly there came the shuffling of steps outside, and he hadhardly time to wrap the loose links round his free hand, when the doorwas unbolted and two pirates came in.
"Got your hammer, carpenter?" asked one, whom Craddock recognised as thebig quartermaster. "Knock off his leg shackles, then. Better leave thebracelets--he's safer with them on."
With hammer and chisel the carpenter loosened the irons.
"What are you going to do with me?" asked Craddock.
"Come on deck and you'll see."
The sailor seized him by the arm and dragged him roughly to the foot ofthe companion. Above him was a square of blue sky cut across by themizzen gaff with the colours flying at the peak. But it was the sight ofthose colours which struck the breath from Stephen Craddock's lips. Forthere were two of them, and the British ensign was flying above theJolly Rodger--the honest flag above that of the rogue.
For an instant Craddock stopped in amazement, but a brutal push from thepirates behind drove him up the companion ladder. As he stepped out upondeck, his eyes turned up to the main, and there again were the Britishcolours flying above the red pennant, and all the shrouds and riggingwere garlanded with streamers.
Had the ship been taken, then? But that was impossible, for there werethe pirates clustering in swarms along the port bulwarks, and wavingtheir hats joyously in the air. Most prominent of all was the renegademate, standing on the foc'sle head, and gesticulating wildly. Craddocklooked over the side to see what they were cheering at, and then in aflash he saw how critical was the moment.
On the port bow, and about a mile off, lay the white houses and forts ofPort Royal, with flags breaking out everywhere over their roofs. Rightahead was the opening of the palisades leading to the town of Kingston.Not more than a quarter of a mile off was a small sloop working outagainst the very slight wind. The British ensign was at her peak, andher rigging was all decorated. On her deck could be seen a dense crowdof people cheering and waving their hats, and the gleam of scarlet toldthat there were officers of the garrison among them.
In an instant, with the quick perception of a man of action, Craddocksaw through it all. Sharkey, with that diabolical cunning and audacitywhich were among his main characteristics, was simulating the part whichCraddock would himself have played, had he come back victorious. It wasin _his_ honour that the salutes were firing and the flags flying. Itwas to welcome _him_ that this ship with the Governor, the commandant,and the chiefs of the island was approaching. In another ten minutesthey would all be under the guns of the _Happy Delivery_, and Sharkeywould have won the greatest stake that ever a pirate played for yet.
"Bring him forward," cried the pirate captain, as Craddock appearedbetween the carpenter and the quartermaster. "Keep the ports closed, butclear away the port guns, and stand by for a broadside. Another twocable lengths and we have them."
"They are edging away," said the boatswain. "I think they smell us."
"That's soon set right," said Sharkey, turning his filmy eyes uponCraddock. "Stand there, you--right there, where they can recognise you,with your hand on the guy, and wave your hat to them. Quick, or yourbrains will be over your coat. Put an inch of your knife into him, Ned.Now, will you wave your hat? Try him again, then. Hey, shoot him! stophim!"
But it was too late. Relying upon the manacles, the quartermaster hadtaken his hands for a moment off Craddock's arm. In that instant he hadflung off the carpenter and, amid a spatter of pistol bullets, hadsprung the bulwarks and was swimming for his life. He had been hit andhit again, but it
takes many pistols to kill a resolute and powerful manwho has his mind set upon doing something before he dies. He was astrong swimmer, and, in spite of the red trail which he left in thewater behind him, he was rapidly increasing his distance from thepirate.
"Give me a musket!" cried Sharkey, with a savage oath.
He was a famous shot, and his iron nerves never failed him in anemergency. The dark head appearing on the crest of a roller, and thenswooping down on the other side, was already half-way to the sloop.Sharkey dwelt long upon his aim before he fired. With the crack of thegun the swimmer reared himself up in the water, waved his hands in agesture of warning, and roared out in a voice which rang over the bay.Then, as the sloop swung round her head-sails, and the pirate fired animpotent broadside, Stephen Craddock, smiling grimly in his death agony,sank slowly down to that golden couch which glimmered far beneath him.