The Black Buccaneer
CHAPTER XVII
A stiff easterly breeze whitened the gray seas next morning. It wascloudy and seemed to be getting ready for a blow. The pirate and herprize had drifted all night, bound together, and as day broke a tipsylookout spied land to the westward. Herriot came on deck hastily at thecall and himself went to the rail to heave the lead. The soundingsshowed a bare four fathoms of water. Bonnet was summoned and the crew,hardly recovered from their orgy, staggered about the deck preparing toget under way again. Seven men, under Dunkin, were told off to man the_Francis._ A dozen others were needed to plug her shot-holes before shewas really seaworthy. This task being finally accomplished, the ropeswere taken off, the sails run up and the two sloops, closehauled tostarboard, set about beating off shore.
It was a terrible day for Jeremy and Bob. In the crew there was theregular fighting, swearing and vomiting that always followed a night ofcarousal. The fact that they were short-handed made the work harder andthe grumbling louder than ever. The bow of the _Royal James_ was partlyshot away above the bits, and there was a full day's work for every handthat could be spared rigging canvas over the gap to prevent its takingin water in case of a storm. Meanwhile the fo'c's'le was in as filthy astate as could well be imagined. Herriot thrust his head down the hatchonce during the morning and as he caught the sickening stench of theplace he called the two boys, who had been up forward helping thepatching.
"Here, young 'uns, get below and clean up," he ordered sharply, andhanded each lad a bucket and a deck-brush. They filled the buckets andwent below reluctantly. At first it was impossible for them to stayunder hatches for more than five minutes at a time, so they took turnsin running up for air and a fresh supply of water. Gradually theflooding they gave the place told in its atmosphere, and by noon theyhad put it into decent shape again. Hardly had Jeremy come on deck,weary and sickened with this task, when Captain Bonnet called to himfrom the companion. He made his way aft and entered the cabin. Bonnethad just resumed his place at the broad table. Opposite him and facingJeremy was the big slouched figure of Captain Manewaring. "Bring thewine, Jeremy," said the buccaneer quietly, and without turning. He waslooking with steady eyes at his guest. Jeremy went back along thepassage to the wine-locker under the companion stairs and took from ittwo bottles of Madeira. As he was closing the cupboard door, Bonnet'svoice cut the air like a knife. The two words he spoke were not loud,but pronounced with a terrible distinctness. "You lie!" was what hesaid.
Jeremy shivered and waited, listening. There was no reply loud enoughfor him to hear through the closed door of the cabin. After a moment hetiptoed back and before turning the knob listened again. Nothing butsilence. He opened the door with a pounding heart and stepped into theroom.
The two men sat motionless in their places. Bonnet held a cocked pistolin his right hand, its point covering the other man's head. On the tablebefore Manewaring was a second pistol. His face was drawn and gray and afine sweat stood upon his forehead. Jeremy shrank against the wall,hardly breathing, his two bottles clutched idiotically, one in eachhand. The tense seconds ticked on by the cabin clock.
"Come--quick!" said the pirate, with a gesture toward the other pistol.Manewaring's hand appeared over the edge of the table and gave atrembling jerk toward the pistol-butt. Then it fell back into his lap.He gasped. A drop of sweat ran down his temple into his gray beard.Again the only sounds were the tick of the cabin clock, the wash of theseas outside and the hoarse breathing of the cornered man. At length hemoved with a sort of shudder, whispered the name of his Maker and seizedthe butt of the pistol desperately.
Bonnet had raised his weapon, pointing to the ceiling. "I shall countthree, then fire," said he in the same even voice.
"One----" But before he spoke again his opponent had jerked his muzzledown and fired. Bonnet must have seen the flash of the intention in hiseyes, for he threw himself to the left at that instant, and the shotwent crashing through a panel of the door. With the deliberate surenessof Fate the pirate took aim at his adversary, who whimpered andgrovelled behind the table. Then he shot him. Jeremy's knees went limp,but he saved himself from falling and managed to set the bottles on thetable.
Behind him as he staggered out, Stede Bonnet poured himself a glass ofwine and drank it with a steady hand. The boy met a crowd of men at thehead of the companion, but was too shaken to tell them what hadhappened. Herriot, going below, heard the details of the duel from theCaptain's own lips. Under the sailing-master's orders the body of thedead man was carried out on deck, sewed into a piece of sailcloth andheaved over the rail without more ado. Jeremy made his way to his bunkand told Bob the story between chattering teeth.
There was silence on the ship that afternoon. Bonnet's action hadsobered his rough company to the point where they ceased quarreling andtalked in undertones, gathering in little knots about the slanted deckwhen not at work. The two boys were glad enough to be out of the way.Jeremy, tired and discouraged, sat on the bunk's edge, his shouldershunched and his eyes on the floor. His young companion, who had morecause for hope, watched him with sympathetic eyes. He could see that theNew England boy was too dejected even to try to plan their escape--theusual occupation of their hours together. Finally he reached over, a bitshyly, and gave him a friendly pat on the back.
"Brace up, Jeremy," he said. "You're clean tuckered out, but a rest anda nap'll help. Here, cover yourself up and I'll do your work tonight.Maybe I'll have a scheme thought up to tell you in the morning."
Jeremy cared little whether he slept or woke, for the events of the pastdays, coupled with the disappointment of not being set ashore as he hadhoped, had brought even his determined courage to a low ebb. He was onthe verge of a fever, and Bob's prescription of rest and sleep was whathe most needed. Made snug at the back side of the berth, where littleor no light came, he fell into a fitful slumber. Bob took a last look tosee that his friend was comfortable and went on deck.
Pharaoh Daggs had taken a great deal of liquor the night before, as washis wont when grog was being passed. The rum he consumed seemed toaffect him very little. No one ever heard him sing, though his cruelface, with its awful, livid scar, would lean forward and sway to and frowith the rhythm of the choruses. He could walk a reeling deck or climb aslack shroud as well, to all appearances, when he had taken a gallon asmost men when they were sober. From Newfoundland to Trinidad he wasknown among the pirates as a man whose head would stand drink like asheet-iron bucket. This reputation was made possible by the fact that hewas no talker at any time, and when in liquor clamped his jaws like asprung trap. Whatever effect the alcohol may have had upon his mind wasnot apparent because no thoughts passed his lips. The rum did go to hishead, however. The instinctive effort of will that kept his legs steadyand his mouth shut had no root in thought. Behind the veil of thoselight eyes, the brain of Pharaoh Daggs, drunk, was like a seething pit,one black fuddle of ugliness. To compensate for the apparent lack ofeffect of liquor upon him, the inward disturbance usually lasted longafter the more tipsy seamen had slept around to clear heads.
Today he lolled with his sneering face toward the weather beam, a figureupon whose privacy no one would care to trespass. The sound of the shotsand the tale of the duel had neither one awakened in him any apparentinterest. Through the long afternoon till nearly five o'clock heslouched by the fo'c's'le. Then with a leisurely stretch he walked tothe hatch, and peered down it. Wheeling about he scanned the deckcraftily, looking at all the men in turn, before he descended theladder.
In the half-light below he paused again, and seemed to send his piercingglance into every bunk, from the forward to the after bulkhead. Finally,satisfied that no one else was in the fo'c's'le, he went to his ownsleeping place, on the port side, and kneeling beside the berth hauled aheavy sea-chest from beneath it.
Jeremy's light sleep was broken by a scraping sound close by. He openedhis eyes without moving, and from where he lay could see a man busy atsomething opposite him. As the figure turned and straightened, he knewit for the man with the bro
ken nose. The boy was instantly on the alert,for he had every reason to distrust Daggs. Without making a sound heworked nearer to the edge of the bunk and pulled the cover up to hideall but his eyes. The pirate hauled his chest out farther into themiddle of the floor, where more light fell.
Then he knelt before it and unlocked it with a key which he took fromabout his neck. Jeremy almost expected to see a heap of gold coin as thelid was raised. He was disappointed. A garment of dark cloth, probably acloak, and some dirty linen were all that came to view. The buccaneerlifted out a number of articles of seaman's gear and laid them besidehim. After them came a leather pouch, quite heavy, Jeremy thought. Theman raised it carefully and weighed it in his hand. It must have beenhis portion of the spoils taken on the voyage. However, this was notwhat he was after, it seemed, for a moment later it was laid on thefloor beside the other things. Next he removed two pistols and a secondpouch of the sort used for powder and shot. There was a long interval ashe rummaged in the bottom of the box, under other contents which Jeremycould not see. At last the pirate stood up, holding a rolled paper tiedwith string. Another long moment he peered about him and listened. Whenhe had reassured himself, he untied the string and opened the paper, asquare document, perhaps a foot each way. It was discolored and worn atthe edges, apparently quite old. What was inscribed on it Jeremy couldnot see, stare as he might. Daggs examined it a moment, then knelt,preoccupied, and spread it upon the floor. With one finger he traced aline along it, zigzagging from one side diagonally to the foot, his lipsmoving silently meanwhile. Then his other hand hovered above thedocument for a time before he planted his thumb squarely upon a spotnear the top.
Jeremy's thoughts kept time with his racing heart. He watched everymotion of the buccaneer with a fierce intentness that missed no detail.Daggs had been quiet for a full two minutes, a crafty gloating smileplaying over his thin lips. Now once more he touched a place upon thesheet before him. "Right there, she'll be," he muttered. Then, afterslowly rolling up the paper, he replaced it and locked the box. The eyesof the boy in the bunk gleamed excitedly, for he was sure now of thenature of the document. Beyond any reasonable doubt, it was a chart."Solomon Brig's treasure!" he whispered to himself as the tall figure ofthe man with the broken nose clambered upward through the hatch.