CHAPTER IV
A STARTLING PROPOSAL
After Horace returned to Eton, remembering the intense interest of hisfather in the affairs of Greece, he read up as far as he couldeverything relating to late events there. That he should obtain areally fair view of the situation was impossible. The Greeks hadcountrymen in every commercial city in the world; they were active andintelligent, and passionately desirous of interesting Europe in theircause. Upon the other hand the Turks were voiceless. Hence Europe onlyheard the Greek version of the state of affairs; their wrongs wereexaggerated and events distorted with an utter disregard for truth,while no whisper of the other side of the question was ever heard.
At that time the term Greek was applied to persons of Greek religionrather than of Greek nationality. The population of European Turkey,of pure Greek blood, was extremely small, while those who held theGreek form of religion were very numerous, and the influence possessedby them was even greater. The Christians were in point ofintelligence, activity, and wealth superior to the Turks. They weresubservient and cringing when it suited their purpose, and were as arule utterly unscrupulous. The consequence was that they worked theirway into posts of responsibility and emolument in great numbers, beingselected by the Porte in preference to the duller and less pushingTurks. In some portions of European Turkey they were all-powerful: inthe Transylvanian provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia every post washeld by Greeks, and there were but a few small and scattered Turkishgarrisons. Yet here the population were incomparably more cruellyfleeced and ground down by their Greek masters than were theChristians in the more Turkish provinces.
In Servia and parts of Bulgaria the numbers were more even, but herealso the Greeks held most of the responsible posts. In Greece properthe Christians vastly predominated, while in Northern Thessaly thenumbers of the Christians and Mussulmans were about the same.
The Greek metropolitan of Constantinople and his council exercised alarge authority by means of the bishops and priests over the wholeChristian population, while for some time a secret society named thePhilike Hetaireia had been at work preparing them for a rising. It wasstarted originally among the Greeks at Odessa, and was secretlypatronized by Russia, which then, as since, had designs uponConstantinople.
The first outbreak had occurred in March, 1821, when Prince AlexanderHypsilantes, who had been an officer in the Russian service, crossedthe Pruth, and was joined by the Greek officials and tax-gatherers ofthe Transylvanian provinces. He was a vain, empty-headed, and utterlyincompetent adventurer. A small band of youths belonging to goodfamilies enrolled themselves under the title of the Sacred Band, andthe army also joined him, but beyond the cold-blooded massacre of aconsiderable number of Turks and their families he did absolutelynothing. The main body of the population, who bitterly hated theirGreek oppressors, remained quiescent. Russia, seeing his utterincapacity, repudiated him, and after keeping alive the hopes of hisfollowers by lying proclamations Hypsilantes secured his own safety byflight across the Austrian frontier when the Turkish army approached.The five hundred young men of the Sacred Battalion fought nobly andwere killed almost to a man; but with the exception of a band ofofficers who refused to surrender, and shut themselves up in Skulaniand in the monastery of Seko and there defended themselves bravelyuntil the last, no resistance was offered to the Turks, and theinsurrection was stamped out by the beginning of June. But in themeantime Greece proper was rising, and though the news came but slowlyHorace saw that his father's hopes were likely to be gratified, andthat the Greeks would probably strike a blow at least for nationalindependence, and he more than shared the general excitement that thenews caused among educated men throughout Europe.
The summer holidays passed uneventfully. Horace took long cruises inthe _Surf_. He saw but little of his father, who was constantly absentin London. August came, and Horace returned from his last trip and wasfeeling rather depressed at the thought of going back to school in twodays' time. He met Zaimes as he entered the house.
"Is my father back from town, Zaimes?"
"Yes, Mr. Horace, and he told me to tell you as soon as you returnedthat he wished you to go to him at once in the library."
It was so unlike his father to want to see him particularly aboutanything, that Horace went in in some wonder as to what could be thematter. Mr. Beveridge was walking up and down the room.
"Is your mind very much set on going back to Eton, Horace?" he askedabruptly.
"I don't know, father," Horace said, taken somewhat aback at thequestion. "Well, I would very much rather go back, father, than bedoing nothing here. I am very fond of sailing as an amusement, but onewould not want to be at it always. Of course if there is anythingreally to do it would be different."
"Well, I think there is something else to do, Horace. You know myfeeling with regard to this insurrection in Greece."
"Yes, father," Horace, who was indeed rather tired of the subject,replied.
"Well, you see, my boy, they have now resisted the Turks for some fivemonths and have gained rather than lost ground. That seems to showdecisively that this is no mere hasty rising, but that the people arein earnest in the determination to win their liberty. Now that I amthoroughly convinced of this my course is clear, and I have determinedupon going out to give such assistance as I can."
Horace was astounded. "Going out to fight, father?"
"Yes, if necessary to fight, but I can be of more use than in merelyfighting. I have never, since I came into the property sometwenty-four years ago, spent anything like a third of my income.Indeed, since my return from Greece my expenses here have been but afew hundreds a year. I have always hoped that I should have theopportunity of devoting the savings to help Greece to regain herindependence. That moment has come. At first I feared that themovement would speedily die out; but the letters that I receive showthat it is increasing daily, and indeed that the Greeks have placedthemselves beyond the hope of forgiveness by, I am sorry to say, themassacre of large numbers of Turks. It is, of course, to be regrettedthat so glorious a cause should have been sullied by such conduct; butone cannot be surprised. Slaves are always cruel, and after the wrongsthey have suffered, it could hardly be expected that they would foregotheir revenge when the opportunity at last came. However, theimportant point of the matter is, that there can be no drawing backnow.
"For better or for worse the revolution has begun. Now, Horace, youare but sixteen, but you are a sensible lad, and I have stood so muchapart from other men from my boyhood that I am what you might callunpractical; while I take it that you from your temperament, and frombeing at a great public school, are eminently practical, therefore, Ishall be glad to hear your opinion as to how this thing had best beset about. I take it, of course, that you are as interested in thestruggle as I am."
"Well, not so interested perhaps, father. I feel, of course, that itis a horrible thing that a people like the Greeks, to whom we all oweso much, should be kept in slavery by the Turks, who have never doneany good to mankind that I know of, and I should certainly be glad todo everything in my power to help; but of course it all comes sosuddenly upon me that just at present I don't see what had best bedone."
"I heard from my friends in London that many young men are alreadystarting to assist the Greeks. What they will need most is not men,but arms and money, so at least my Greek friends write me."
"Well, father," Horace said bluntly; "I should say you had much bettergive them arms than money. I have been reading the thing up as much asI could since it began, and as far as I can see the upper classGreeks, the men who, I suppose, will be the leaders, are a pretty badlot--quite as bad, I should say, as the Turkish pashas."
"Yes, I quite agree with you there, Horace. You see in a country thatis enslaved, political and other careers are closed, and the young mendevote themselves to making money. You see that in the history of theJews. All through the middle ages they were everywhere persecuted,every avenue to honourable employment was closed to them, consequentlythey devoted themselves
to making money, and have been the bankers ofkings for hundreds of years. No doubt it is the same thing with theGreeks; but the mass of the people are uncorrupted, and with the deedsof their great forefathers always before them they will, I am sure,show themselves worthy of their name."
"No doubt, father; I think so too."
"You don't mind my spending this money on the Cause, Horace," hisfather asked anxiously, "because, though it is my savings, it would inthe natural course of things come to you some day."
"Not at all, father; it is, as you say, your savings, and having atheart, as you have, the independence of Greece, I think it cannot bebetter laid out than assisting it. But I should certainly like it tobe laid out for that, and not to go into the pockets of a lot offellows who think more of feathering their own nests than of thefreedom of Greece. So I should say the best thing would be to send outa cargo of arms and ammunition, as a beginning; other cargoes can goout as they are required. And you might, of course, take a certainamount of money to distribute yourself as you see it is required. Ihope you mean to take me with you."
"I think so, Horace. You are young to do any fighting at present, butyou will be a great support and comfort to me."
Horace could scarcely resist a smile, for he thought that if there wasany fighting to be done he would be of considerably more use than hisfather.
"Well, I suppose the next thing, Horace, will be to go up to town toinquire about arms. My Greek friends there will advise me as to theirpurchase, and so on."
"Yes, father," Horace said a little doubtfully; "but as it is late nowI think, if you don't mind, I will get some supper and turn in. I willthink it over. I think we had better talk it over quietly and quitemake up our minds what is best to be done before we set aboutanything; a few hours won't make any difference."
"Quite so, Horace; it is no use our beginning by making mistakes. Itis a great comfort to me, my boy, to have you with me. At any rate Iwill write to-night to your headmaster and say that circumstances willprevent your return to Eton this term."
Horace went into the next room, had some supper, and then wentthoughtfully up to bed. The idea of going out to fight for theindependence of Greece was one which at any other time he would haveregarded with enthusiasm, but under the present circumstances he feltdepressed rather than excited. He admired his father for his greatlearning, and loved him for the kindness of his intentions towardshim; but he had during the last two or three years been more and moreimpressed with the fact that in everything unconnected with hisfavourite subject his father was, as he said himself, utterlyunpractical. He left the management of his estate to the steward, themanagement of the house to Zaimes, both happily, as it chanced, honestand capable men; but had they been rogues they could have victimizedhim to any extent. That his father, who lived in his library and whowas absorbed in the past, should plunge into the turmoil of aninsurrection was an almost bewildering idea. He would be plunderedright and left, and would believe every story told him; while as forhis fighting, the thing seemed absolutely absurd. Horace felt that thewhole responsibility would be on his shoulders, and this seemedaltogether too much for him. Then the admission of his father thatabominable massacres had been perpetrated by the Greeks shook hisenthusiasm in the Cause.
"I should be glad to see them free and independent, and all that," hesaid, "but I don't want to be fighting side by side with murderers.Among such fellows as these, my father, who is a great deal more Greekthan any Greek of the present day, I should say, would be made utterlymiserable. He admits that the upper class are untrustworthy andavaricious. Now he says that the lower class have massacred people incold blood. It does not affect him much in the distance, but if hewere in the middle of it all it would be such a shock to him that Ibelieve it would kill him. Besides, fancy his going long marches inthe mountains, sleeping in the wet, and all that sort of thing, whenhe has never walked half a mile as far back as I can remember."
He lay tossing about for a couple of hours, and then sat suddenly upin bed. "That's it," he exclaimed, "that is a splendid idea. What afool I was not to think of it before! If William Martyn is but at homethat would be the thing above all."
Then he lay down, thought the matter over for another half-hour, andthen went quietly off to sleep.
"Well, Horace, have you been turning the matter over in your mind?"his father asked as soon as they sat down to breakfast.
"I have, father, and I have hit upon a plan that seems to me the verybest thing possible in all ways."
"What is it, Horace?"
"Well, father, it seems to me that if we take out war material toAthens it will very likely get into wrong hands altogether, and whenarms are really wanted by the people of the mountains, and I expectthat it is they who will do the fighting and not the people of thetowns, there won't be any to give them. The next thing is, if we go toAthens, and people know that you are a rich Englishman, you will getsurrounded by sharks, and before you have time to know who is to betrusted, or anything about it, all your money will be gone. Then I amsure that you could not in that way take any active part in helping tofree Greece, you never could stand marches in the mountains andsleeping in the open air, bad food, and all that sort of thing, afterliving the quiet indoor life you have for so many years. I know youwould stick to it, father, as long as you could, but it seems to meyou would be sure to get knocked up."
"Yes, I ought to have prepared for this, Horace. It would have beenbetter for me to have taken regular exercise every day, even if I didget through a little less work. Still I am stronger than you think. Iam only forty-four, and a man at forty-four ought to be able to donearly as much as he ever could do."
"Yes, father, if he had lived an active life and exercised hismuscles. I have no doubt you are just as strong in many things asother men; I never remember your being ill for a day; but I am sureyou are not fit for knocking about among the mountains. What I havebeen thinking of is this. If you approve of it I will go over toExmouth this morning and see if William Martyn is there. He is likelyto be at home if his vessel is in port. If he is not, I will get hisfather to recommend some one. There must be lots of young lieutenantson half-pay who would jump at the idea. First I should engage withMartyn if he is there, or go to the man whom his father recommended tome at Plymouth, and get him to buy for you a fast schooner orbrig--one that had either been an English privateer or a capturedFrenchman would be about the thing--arrange with him to be the captainand engage officers and crew, and get him to arm her with as many gunsas she will carry. He would be able probably to put us into the bestway of buying muskets. As such immense numbers of soldiers have beenpaid off, no doubt there have been great sales of muskets bygovernment, and we might get them at a quarter the price we shouldhave to pay for new ones. Of course we should take in ammunition inlarge quantities. All these mountaineers have no doubt got guns, andammunition will be the thing most wanted of all. We could also pick upsome cannon. No doubt they are to be bought for scrap iron. The Greekswill want them to arm their ships and batteries. In that way you see,father, you would have everything under your own hands. Nobody wouldknow how many muskets you have got on board, and you could serve themout when or how they were required.
"The same with money. We could cruise about and pop into quiet places,and send arms and ammunition up into the hills. Of course directly yougot out there you would put the ship under the Greek flag, and byharassing the Turks at sea we might do a hundred times more good thanwe could by land. There would be no fatigue and no discomfort. Youwould always be comfortable on board, and could take Zaimes and Marcowith you. We would take Tom Burdett as boatswain. He was boatswain inthe navy, you know. If he goes I daresay Dick will also go with us."
"That is an excellent plan, Horace. It seems to meet all thedifficulties, and I was really feeling uncomfortable at the thought ofbeing mixed up in all the confusion and excitement there will, nodoubt, be at Athens. It is a most happy idea. We will not lose amoment about it. I like that young fellow Martyn, and I hope you will
be able to get hold of him. Let him name his own terms. I have not theleast idea whether the captain of a vessel of that sort is paid fivepounds a week or twenty-five. Of course it will be dangerous service,and should be liberally paid for. Well, you had better pack up yourbag directly we have finished breakfast. You may be away for a week orten days."
"I can't start to-day, father, surely."
"No! why not, Horace?"
"Because, you know, you arranged we should both go over to dine ataunt's."
"Of course, Horace; I quite forgot that. It is very annoying, but Isuppose it can't be helped."
Horace laughed. "A day won't make much difference, father. I am sureaunt would be very vexed if we did not turn up. Do you mean to tellher anything about it?"
Mr. Beveridge was silent for a minute. "I don't think there is anyoccasion; do you, Horace?" he said doubtfully. "She might raiseobjections, you know; though that, of course, would make nodifference; arguments are always to be avoided, and your aunt wasalways a very positive woman."
"I think it is just as well to say nothing about it," Horace said witha slight smile, for he felt sure that his aunt would oppose theproject tooth and nail if she were aware of it, and that she would bebacked by the whole strength of his mother's family. He did not saythis, but went on, "It is a nuisance being asked a tremendous lot ofquestions about things, especially when you don't know much about themyourself. No, I think, father, we had better keep it quite quiet. Itwill be time enough to write a line to aunt and tell her that we areoff, the last thing before we get up anchor."
"I agree with you, Horace, so we will say nothing about this trip ofours. Well, as it seems you can't go to-day, you had better make yourarrangements to catch the coach to-morrow morning. I will sign a dozenblank cheques, which you can fill up as required. Of course whoeveraccepts the post of captain will know all that will be wanted for theship, and if he doesn't know himself about the arms and ammunition hemay be able to introduce you to some officer who does. Will you takeMarco with you?"
"No, I don't think so, father. I don't see that he would be any use,and having a man going about with you looks as if one was being takencare of."
Horace caught the coach and alighted at Exmouth, and hurried to therevenue officer's house.
"Is Mr. William Martyn in?" he asked the servant who opened the door.
"He is not in just at present, sir; I think he went down to theriver."
"How long has he been home?" Horace asked, delighted at the news.
"He only got in last week, sir; his ship got wrecked, and Mr. Williamturned up without any clothes, or anything except just what he stoodup in."
"Hurrah!" Horace exclaimed, to the astonishment of the woman, and thenwithout another word ran down to the wharfs. He soon saw the figure hewas in search of talking to two or three old sailors.
"Hullo, youngster!" Martyn said in surprise, as Horace came up, "wherehave you sprung from?"
"Off the top of the coach."
"I suppose so. I have been having a bit of bad luck and lost my ship.We were wrecked off St. Catharine's Point, at the back of the Isle ofWight, and there were only seven of us saved among a crew ofthirty-five all told."
"Yes, I heard from your servant you had been wrecked," Horace said."She didn't say that any lives had been lost; but I must haveastonished her, now I think of it, for I said 'Hurrah!' when she toldme."
"What did you say hurrah for?" the mate asked gruffly.
"Because I wanted to find you here, and was so pleased that you werenot going to sail away again directly."
"No," Will Martyn said gloomily, "it is bad enough to have lost one'skit and everything, and now I shall have to look about for anotherberth, for I think the vessel was only partly insured, and as theowners only have one or two ships I expect it will hit them ratherhard, and that they won't have another craft ready for some time, soit will be no use my waiting for that."
The sailors had moved away when Horace came up, so that he was able atonce to open the subject of his visit to the mate.
"Well, that was just what I was hoping when I heard that you werewrecked, Will, for I had come over on purpose to see if you weredisengaged and disposed to take a new berth."
"What! is your father going in for a big yacht instead of the _Surf_,Horace?"
"Well, not exactly, but something of that sort. You know I told youhow enthusiastic he was about Greece and everything connected with it.Of course he is tremendously excited about this rising out there, andhe is going to send out a lot of arms and ammunition. So we havetalked it over and agreed that the best thing to do would be to buy afast schooner or brig, fit her up as a privateer, fill her with armsand ammunition, and go out, hoist the Greek flag, and do what we canto help them against the Turks. Of course we thought at once of you tocarry out the thing, and to act as captain. What do you say to it?"
"The very thing I should like, Horace; nothing could suit me better.Mind I am not giving any opinion as to whether it is a wise thing onthe part of your father; that is his business. But as far as I amconcerned I am your man."
"My father said you were to name your own terms. He didn't knowanything about what the pay should be, but he particularly said thatas it would be a service of danger it ought to be paid for liberally."
"Of course there will be danger," the mate said, "but that adds to thepleasure of it. If I were a married man of course I should have tolook at it in a different light; but as I ain't, and have no idea ofgetting spliced, the danger does not trouble me. I have been gettingeight pounds a month as third mate, and I should have got ten nextvoyage, as I was going second. As I shall be skipper on board thiscraft of yours, suppose we say twelve pounds a month."
"My father expected to pay more than that a good deal," Horace said;"and as everything will depend upon you it would not be at all fair topay the same sort of pay as if you were merely sailing in a merchant'sship. However, he will write to you about it. There will be atremendous lot to do before we start, and we want to be off as soon aspossible. There is a ship to buy and fit out, and officers to get, anda crew. Then we want to find out where we can buy muskets. It seemedto me that as government must have been selling great quantities, weshould be able to get them pretty cheap."
"I could find out all about that at the port where we fit out," WillMartyn said. "As for cannon, they can be had almost for taking away.There are thousands and thousands of them to be had at every port.Five years ago every vessel went to sea armed. Now even the biggestcraft only carry a gun or two for firing signals with, unless, ofcourse, they are going to sail in Eastern waters. Well, this is a bigjob--a different sort of order altogether to buying the _Surf_ foryou. I hope it will turn out as well."
"Of course Plymouth will be the best port to go to."
"I don't know. During the war certainly either that or Portsmouthwould have been the best. Vessels were constantly coming in withprizes; but now, I should say either London or Liverpool would be thebest for picking up the sort of craft we want. Still, as Plymouth isso much the nearest here, I should say we had best try there first.Then if we can't find what we want we will take a passage by coasterto Portsmouth, if the wind is favourable; if not, go by coach. But howare you off for money, because I am at dead low-water? I have got afew pounds owing to me, but I can't handle that till I get to London."
"I have twenty pounds," Horace said. "We didn't think, when I started,of going farther than Plymouth; but I have some blank cheques forpaying for things."
"Twenty pounds ought to be ample; but if we find at Plymouth we wantmore I can easily get one cashed for you. I know plenty of peoplethere."
"Well, when can you start, Will? My father is anxious not to lose amoment."
"I can start in ten minutes if my father is at home. I should want tohave just a short chat with him; but I can do that while they aregetting the chaise ready. Our best plan would be to drive to Exeterand take the evening coach going through there. There is one comesthrough about six o'clock. I have come dow
n by it several times. Itwill take us into Plymouth by twelve o'clock; so we should gainnothing if we started earlier."
"Well, I will go to the inn," Horace said.
"No; that you won't, Horace. You come round with me. I expect dinneris ready by this time. We generally dine at one. My father went out inthe cutter to look after a wreck four or five miles along the coast,and he said he did not expect to be back till between two and three;so we settled to dine at three. There is the cutter coming up theriver now."
"But you would rather be with your father alone," Horace said.
"Not a bit of it. I have got nothing private to say to him, except toget him to let me draw twenty pounds from his agent to get a freshrig-out with. He would like to see you again, especially as I am goingto sail with you, and he maybe able to put us up to a few wrinkles asto getting our powder on board, and so on. Of course I have beenaccustomed to seeing it got in from government powder hulks. We willjust walk up to the house now if you don't mind, to tell the girl toput an extra knife and fork on the table, then we will go down andmeet my father when he lands."
The servant looked with such strong disapprobation upon Horace whenshe opened the door that he burst into a fit of laughter. "You arethinking about my saying hurrah when I heard Mr. Martyn was wrecked?"he said. "Well, I did not exactly mean that, only I was very glad,because I thought if he had not been wrecked he could not have shippedjust at present, and I wanted him very badly."
"Yes, I am off again, Hesba," the mate said. "Going right away thisafternoon. That is a bit of luck, isn't it? I have just come back totell you to put another knife and fork upon the table, as Mr.Beveridge is going to dine with us; and if you have time to kill afatted calf, or anything of that sort, do so."
"Lor', Mr. William, you know very well there ain't no fatted calf, andif there was it would take ever so long to kill it and get some meatcooked, if it was only cutlets."
"Well," Martyn laughed, "never mind the calf, Hesba; but if dinner isshort run straight down to the butcher's and get a good big tendersteak, and look sharp about it, for my father will be here in aquarter of an hour."
As Horace had seen Captain Martyn (as he was by courtesy called, beingin command of a revenue cutter, although only in fact a lieutenant)several times while fitting out the _Surf_ the officer knew him as hesaw him standing at the top of the stairs with his son.
"Well, Master Beveridge," he said as he climbed up the stairs, "Ihaven't seen you since you sailed away in that little craft. I hearyou did a brave deed in her, going out in that gale to rescue the crewof the _Caledon_. It is lucky you caught Will in." He was by this timeashore and shaking hands heartily with Horace.
"He has come to take me away, father," Will said. "Mr. Beveridge isgoing to get a fast craft to carry out arms and ammunition to theGreeks, and he has offered me the command."
"I should not mind going myself, Will. I am sorry you are off so soon;but you are likely to see some stirring scenes over there. When areyou going?"
"We are going to start directly we have had some dinner, father. Wewill order a chaise as we go along. We intend to catch the six-o'clockcoach at Exeter, so as to get to Plymouth to-night. I am going to seeif we can pick up a likely craft there. If not, I shall try Portsmouthand Southampton, and if they won't do, London."
"Well, that is sharp work, Will. But you have no kit to pack, so thereis no difficulty about it. However, there is no time to be lost."
At a quarter to four the post-chaise was at the door, and Will Martynand Horace started. The horses were good, and they were in plenty oftime for the coach, and arrived duly in Plymouth. As soon as they hadbreakfasted next morning they started out and went first to theshipping office of a firm known to Will Martyn, and there got a listof ships lying for sale in the port.
"What sort of craft are you looking for, Martyn?" the shipping agentsaid. "We have a dozen at least on our own books, and you may as wellgive us a turn before you look at any others."
"I want a schooner or a brig--I don't much care which it is--of abouta couple of hundred tons. She must be very fast and weatherly; thesort of craft that was used as a privateer in the war; or as a slaver;or something of that kind."
"I have only one craft that answers to that description," the agentsaid; "but I should say that she was what you want. She was sent homefrom the west coast of Africa six months ago, as a prize. Of courseshe was sold, and was bought by a man I know. After he had got her hefound she had not enough carrying power for his business. She neverwas built for cargo, and would be an expensive vessel to work, for shehas a large sail spread, and would want so strong a crew to work herthat she would never pay. He bought her cheap for that reason, andwill be glad to get the price he gave for her, or if the point werepressed even to make some loss to get her off his hands. They call hera hundred and fifty, and she looks a big vessel for that size. But ifshe had eighty tons in her hold it would be as much as she could carrywith comfort."
"That sounds promising," Martyn said. "At any rate we will begin byhaving a look at her. Where is she lying?"
"About three miles up the river. Tide is making; so we could run upthere in a sailing boat in half an hour. I will go with you myself.There is a care-taker on board. Are you buying her for yourself,Martyn?"
The mate laughed.
"As I have not captured an heiress I am not likely to become a shipowner. No; Mr. Beveridge's father is fond of the sea, and hascommissioned me to buy a comfortable craft that shall be at once fastand seaworthy, and I am going to command her."
"Well, I don't think you would find anything that would suit yourpurpose better than the _Creole_. She would make a splendid yacht fora gentleman who had a fancy for long cruises."
"What is her age?" the mate asked.
"Well, of course we can't tell exactly; but the dockyard peoplethought she couldn't be above four or five years old. That is whatthey put her down as when they sold her. At any rate she is sound, andin as good condition as if she had just come off the stocks. She hadbeen hulled in two or three places in the fight when she was captured,but she was made all right in the dockyard before she was put up forsale. All her gear, sails, and so on are in excellent condition."
"Where are they?"
"They are on board. As we had a care-taker it was cheaper to leavethem there and have good fires going occasionally to keep them drythan it would have been to stow them away on shore."
There was a brisk breeze blowing, and in less than the half hourmentioned by the agent he said: "That's her lying over on the fartherside."
"She looks like a slaver all over," Martyn said as he stood up toexamine the long low craft. "I suppose they caught her coming out of ariver, for she would show her heels, I should guess, to any cruiserthat was ever built, at any rate in light winds. If she is as good asshe looks she is just the thing for us."
When they reached the vessel they rowed round her before going onboard.
"She is like a big _Surf_," Will said to Horace; "finer in herlines, and lighter. She ought to sail like a witch. I see she carriedfour guns on each side."
THEIR FIRST SIGHT OF THE SCHOONER]
"Yes, and a long pivot-gun. They are down in the hold now. She wassold just as she stood; but I suppose they will be of no use to you."
"Some of them may be," Martyn said carelessly. "If we go cruising upthe Mediterranean it is just as well to have a gun or two on board.Now let us look at her accommodation.
"Yes, she is a very roomy craft on deck," he went on as he stepped onboard. "She has a wonderful lot of beam, much more than she looks tohave when you see her on the water, owing to her lines being so fine."
"She has lots of head-room here," Horace said as they went below. "Ithought that slavers had very low decks."
"So they have," the mate said. "I expect when she took a cargo onboard they rigged up a deck of planks here so as to have two tiers forthe slaves; that would give them about three foot three to each tier."
They spent over two hours on board. W
ill Martyn examined everythingmost carefully, prodding the planks and timbers with his knife, goingdown into the hold and prying into the state of the timbers there,getting into the boat, to examine the stern-post and rudder, andafterwards overhauling a good deal of the gear. The inspection was inall respects satisfactory.
"She will do if the price will do," he said. "How much do they wantfor her?"
"He paid fifteen hundred at the dockyard sale," the agent said; "thatis ten pound a ton, with all her gear, fittings, and so on, thrown in.As you see, there is the cabin furniture, and so on, all complete,except the paint. There needn't be a penny laid out on her."
"Well, how much will he take off?" Martyn said. "Fifteen hundred wasanyone's price, and as she don't suit him, she won't suit many people.If he is likely to have her on his hands any time, eating her headoff and losing value, he ought to be glad to take anything near whathe gave for her. Well, frankly, how much will he take off? Business isbusiness. I have admitted the boat will suit me; now what is the limityou are authorized to take?"
"He will take two hundred less. It is a ridiculously low price."
"Of course it is," Will agreed. "But shipping at present is a drug inthe market, and this ship is practically fit for nothing but a yachtor the Levant trade. I expect I could get her a couple of hundredpounds cheaper if I held off. What do you think, Horace?"
"I don't think it would be fair to knock down the price lower thanthat," Horace said.
"It is fair to get a thing as cheap as you can. If you try to get itfor less than he will sell it for you don't get it, that is all. He isnot obliged to sell, and you are not obliged to buy. Still, the priceis a very reasonable one, and we will take her at that. You have fullauthority to sell, I suppose, without reference to your principal?"
"Yes."
"Very well, then, we will go to your office. Mr. Beveridge will giveyou a cheque for thirteen hundred pounds, and you shall hand overpossession."
"Good. It is eleven o'clock now, Johnson," he said to the care-taker."Here is your money up to to-night, but from twelve o'clock to-day Mr.Martyn takes possession as agent for the owners, so you will take yourorders from him."
"You can go on as usual," Will said. "We will pay you from twelveo'clock, so you will make a half-day's pay by the change."