CHAPTER XIV
The day came in dark with fog, which changed a little after noon todriving scud. The wind had gone around to the northeast and freshenedsteadily, driving the waves in from the sea in steep gray hills, quitedifferent from anything Jeremy had before experienced. The sloop, underthree reefs and a storm jib, began to make rough weather of it,staggering up and down the long slopes in an aimless, dizzy fashion thatmade Jeremy and Bob very unhappy. The poor young New Englander had toperform his regular tasks no matter how he felt within, but once thework was done he stumbled forward miserably and lay upon his bunk. Bobwas too wretched to talk all day, and for the time at least cared verylittle whether he was rescued or keel-hauled.
Near nightfall Jeremy went aft to serve the Captain's supper, and as hereturned along the reeling wet deck in the gathering dark, he stopped amoment to look off to windward. The racing white tops of the wavesgleamed momentarily and vanished. He was appalled at their height. Whilethe little vessel surged along in the trough, great slopes of foam andblack water rose on either beam, up and up like tossing hillsides. Thenwould come the staggering climb to the summit, and for a dizzy secondthe terrified lad, clinging to a shroud, could look for miles across theshifting valleys. Before he could catch his breath, the sloop pitcheddown the next declivity in a long, sickening sag, and rocked for a briefinstant at the foot, her masts swaying in a great arc half across thesky. Then she began to ascend. Shivering and wide-eyed, the boy crept tohis bunk, where he fell asleep at last to the sound of screaming windand lashing water.
At dawn and all next day the gale swept down from the northeastunabated. The fo'c's'le was thick with tobacco smoke and the wet reek ofthe crew, for only the steersman and the lookout would stay on deck.Bob, somewhat recovered from his seasickness, lay wide-eyed in his bunkand heard such tales of plunder and savagery on the high seas as madehis blood run cold. When Jeremy came dripping down the ladder, earlythat afternoon, he found the Delaware lad staring at Pharaoh Daggs witha look of positive terror. The buccaneer's evil face was lit up by therays of the smoky lantern, hung from a hook in one of the deck beams. Hesat on the edge of the fo'c's'le table, his heavy shoulders hunched anda long clay pipe in his teeth. "That night," he was saying, "four on uswent an' cut Sol Brig down from where they'd hanged him. We got away,down to the sloop an' out to sea with him. I didn't have no cause tolove the old devil, but I'd ha' hated to have a ghost like his after me,so I lent a hand. We wrapped him up decent an' gave him sea-burial fromhis own deck, as he'd paced for thirty year. An' _then_," he said with asnarl and half-turning to face Jeremy, "we got them two boys on deck!Both of 'em said 'twas the other as told, so we treated 'em fair an'alike. We stripped 'em an' laid in deep with the cat till there wasn'tno white skin left above the waist. Then we sluiced 'em with sea water.When they could feel pain again, we stretched 'em with rope an' windlasstill one died. T'other was a red-headed, tough young devil, an' tooksuch a deal of it that we had to brain him with a handspike at thelast."
Even the crew were silenced for a little by this recital. Jeremy and Bobshivered in their places, hardly daring to breathe. Then a Portuguesespoke from the corner, his greedy little black eyes glittering in hisswarthy face.
"Where wass da Cap'n's money--da gold 'e 'ada-not divide', eh?"
Daggs gave a little start and leaned forward scowling. "Who said he hadany?" he asked savagely. "Sol Brig kept himself to himself. He nevertold secrets to any man aboard!" Then he turned and with a black frownat the two boys, climbed through the hatch into the howling smotheroutside.
Jeremy, always alert, saw one or two glances exchanged among the piratesbefore the interminable foul stream of fo'c's'le talk resumed itscourse, but apparently the incident of the scarred man's abruptdeparture was soon forgotten.
As the storm continued, Bonnet and Herriot gave up their attempts tosail the _Royal James_ and contented themselves with keeping her afloat.The gale was driving them southward at a good rate and they were notungrateful as they reflected that it must have effectually put a stop toall pursuit. Toward night the wind went down a trifle, though the seasstill ran in veritable mountain ranges. The dawn of the following dayshowed a clear sky to the north, and every prospect of fair weather.Before breakfast all hands were set to shaking out reefs and trimmingsails, a task which the tossing of the sloop made unusually difficult.New halyards had to be fitted in some places. Otherwise the vesselherself had suffered but little. The brig's boat, towed astern allthrough the flight down the bay, had been swamped and cut loose on thefirst day of storm. However, as the _Royal James_ had two boats of herown lashed on deck, this was not considered a real loss.
When the sun was high enough, Herriot took his bearings, and gave thehelmsman orders to keep her headed west, a point north. The sloop made along beat of it to starboard, thrashing up all night and most of thefollowing day, before she sighted the Virginia Capes. Slipping throughunder cover of darkness, Bonnet resumed his role of sober merchantmanand sailed the _James_ up the Chesapeake under the British flag, with afine air of honesty.
Jeremy and Bob regained their spirits as the low shores unrolled aheadand passed astern, with an occasional glimpse of a plantation house or avillage at the water's edge. As every fresh estuary and arm of the bayopened on the bow, the lads hoped and expected that the sloop wouldenter. Bob thought the chances for escape or rescue would be muchincreased if they came to anchor in some harbor. Jeremy remembered theCaptain's half-promise to free him when they reached the Chesapeake, andalthough he would have been loth to part from his new friend, he feltthat he might render him better service ashore than in his companyaboard the pirate.
It was two full days before the order was finally given to anchor. Theyhad put into the mouth of a wide inlet far up on the Eastern shore, andBonnet had her brought into the wind at a good distance from eitherside. The banks were high and wooded, and as far as the boys could seethere was no sign of habitation anywhere about. Their minds were bothbusy planning some way of getting to land when Dave Herriot came upbehind them and put a huge hand into the collar of each. "Come alongbelow, lads," he said gruffly. They went, completely mystified, untilthe big sailing-master thrust them before him into the port gun deck.Then Jeremy understood. The old-fashioned arrangement of iron barscalled the "bilboes" was fastened to the bulkhead at the bow end of thealleyway. It had two or three sets of iron shackles chained to it andinto the smallest pair of these, meant for the wrists of a grown victim,he locked an ankle of each of the boys.
"Ye'll stay _there_ a while, till we sail again," Herriot remarked as hedeparted. The lads stared at each other, too glum to speak. Bob was palewith rage at what he considered a dishonor, while the Yankee boy's heartwas heavy as he thought of the opportunities for flight he had let slipon the voyage up the bay. Within half an hour after the anchor wasdropped the young prisoners heard the creak of the davit blocks, and amoment later the splash of a boat taking water close to the nearestgun-port. Jeremy stretched as far as his chain would allow, and througha crevice saw four men start to row toward shore. There was some coarsejesting and laughter on deck, then one of the crew sent a "Fare ye well,Bill!" after the departing gig. The hail was answered by the voice ofthe Jamaican, Curley. Half an hour later the boat returned, carryingonly three. Jeremy, straining at his tether, made out that Curley wasnot one of them. He sat down, thoughtful. "Well, Bob," he said at last,"whether it's about your ransom I can't say, but Bill Curley's been sentashore on some errand or other--and to be gone a while, too, I figure."
They could do little but wait for developments. It was something of asurprise to both when Bonnet's voice was heard on the deck above, soonafter, ordering the capstan manned. The anchor creaked up and to therattle of blocks the sail was hoisted. They felt the sloop get under wayonce more. When one of the foremast hands brought them some biscuit andpork for supper, he told them it was Herriot's orders that they be leftin irons for the present at least, and added, in response to Jeremy'squery, that they were headed south under full canvas.
The boys' thoughtswere very bitter as they tried to make themselves comfortable on thebare planking. Fortunately, at their age it requires more than a hardbed to banish rest, and before the ship had made three sea-miles, careand bodily misery alike were forgotten in the heavy slumber of fatigue.