CHAPTER XI
THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER
Alan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor wascovered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took awaymy hunger. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeablebut merry; having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and havingat command all the drink in the ship--both wine and spirits--and all thedainty part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sortof bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour, but therichest part of it was this, that the two thirstiest men that ever cameout of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now shut in the fore-part ofthe ship and condemned to what they hated most--cold water.
"And depend upon it," Alan said, "we shall hear more of them ere long.Ye may keep a man from the fighting, but never from his bottle."
We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himselfmost lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of thesilver buttons from his coat.
"I had them," says he, "from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give yeone of them to be a keepsake for last night's work. And wherever ye goand show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you."
He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; andindeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smilingat his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, Iwould be afraid to think what a quarrel might have followed.
As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain'slocker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat,began to visit his suit and brush away the stains, with such care andlabour as I supposed to have been only usual with women. To be sure, hehad no other; and, besides (as he said), it belonged to a king and sobehoved to be royally looked after.
For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the threadswhere the button had been cut away, I put a higher value on his gift.
He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck,asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting onthe edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly infear of broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. Hecame to the edge of the round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, sothat his chin was on a level with the roof; and we looked at each otherawhile in silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forwardin the battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow upon thecheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, having been all nightafoot, either standing watch or doctoring the wounded.
"This is a bad job," said he at last, shaking his head.
"It was none of our choosing," said I.
"The captain," says he, "would like to speak with your friend. Theymight speak at the window."
"And how do we know what treachery he means?" cried I.
"He means none, David," returned Mr. Riach, "and if he did, I'll tell yethe honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow."
"Is that so?" said I.
"I'll tell ye more than that," said he. "It's not only the men; it's me.I'm frich'ened, Davie." And he smiled across at me. "No," he continued,"what we want is to be shut of him."
Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to andparole given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach'sbusiness, and he now begged me for a dram with such instancy and suchreminders of his former kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikinwith about a gill of brandy. He drank a part, and then carried the restdown upon the deck, to share it (I suppose) with his superior.
A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows,and stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking sternand pale, and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him.
Alan at once held a pistol in his face.
"Put that thing up!" said the captain. "Have I not passed my word, sir?or do ye seek to affront me?"
"Captain," says Alan, "I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night yehaggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me yourword, and gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what wasthe upshot. Be damned to your word!" says he.
"Well, well, sir," said the captain, "ye'll get little good byswearing." (And truly that was a fault of which the captain was quitefree.) "But we have other things to speak," he continued, bitterly."Ye've made a sore hash of my brig; I haven't hands enough left to workher; and my first officer (whom I could ill spare) has got your swordthroughout his vitals, and passed without speech. There is nothing leftme, sir, but to put back into the port of Glasgow after hands; and there(by your leave) ye will find them that are better able to talk to you."
"Ay?" said Alan; "and faith, I'll have a talk with them mysel'! Unlessthere's naebody speaks English in that town, I have a bonny tale forthem. Fifteen tarry sailors upon the one side, and a man and a halflingboy upon the other! O, man, it's peetiful!"
Hoseason flushed red.
"No," continued Alan, "that'll no do. Ye'll just have to set me ashoreas we agreed."
"Ay," said Hoseason, "but my first officer is dead--ye ken best how.There's none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it'sone very dangerous to ships."
"I give ye your choice," says Alan. "Set me on dry ground in Appin,or Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where yeplease, within thirty miles of my own country; except in a country ofthe Campbells. That's a broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be asfeckless at the sailoring as I have found ye at the fighting. Why, mypoor country people in their bit cobles* pass from island to island inall weathers, ay, and by night too, for the matter of that."
*Coble: a small boat used in fishing.
"A coble's not a ship, sir," said the captain. "It has nae draught ofwater."
"Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!" says Alan. "We'll have the laugh ofye at the least."
"My mind runs little upon laughing," said the captain. "But all thiswill cost money, sir."
"Well, sir," says Alan, "I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye landme on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch."
"But see, sir, where we lie, we are but a few hours' sail fromArdnamurchan," said Hoseason. "Give me sixty, and I'll set ye there."
"And I'm to wear my brogues and run jeopardy of the red-coats to pleaseyou?" cries Alan. "No, sir; if ye want sixty guineas earn them, and setme in my own country."
"It's to risk the brig, sir," said the captain, "and your own livesalong with her."
"Take it or want it," says Alan.
"Could ye pilot us at all?" asked the captain, who was frowning tohimself.
"Well, it's doubtful," said Alan. "I'm more of a fighting man (as yehave seen for yoursel') than a sailor-man. But I have been often enoughpicked up and set down upon this coast, and should ken something of thelie of it."
The captain shook his head, still frowning.
"If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise," says he, "I wouldsee you in a rope's end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as yewill. As soon as I get a slant of wind (and there's some coming, or I'mthe more mistaken) I'll put it in hand. But there's one thing more. Wemay meet in with a king's ship and she may lay us aboard, sir, with noblame of mine: they keep the cruisers thick upon this coast, ye ken whofor. Now, sir, if that was to befall, ye might leave the money."
"Captain," says Alan, "if ye see a pennant, it shall be your part torun away. And now, as I hear you're a little short of brandy in thefore-part, I'll offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy against twobuckets of water."
That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on bothsides; so that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and bequit of the memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain andMr. Riach could be happy again in their own way, the name of which wasdrink.