CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.
TURNING THE PIANO.
It was with unpleasant feelings I arrived at this knowledge. Beyonddoubt, the piano would be a difficult obstacle, if not a completebarrier, to my further progress in that direction. It was evidently oneof the grandest of "grand pianos," far larger than the one I rememberedto have stood in my mother's cottage parlour. Its upper side, or table,was towards me, for it had been placed upon its edge; and I could tellby the echo given back to my blows that this table was a piece ofmahogany of an inch or more in thickness. It appeared, moreover, toconsist of one solid board, for I could feel no crack or joining overits whole extent; and to get through this board, therefore, a hole wouldhave to be made by sheer cutting and carving.
With such a tool as I handled, to make a hole big enough to creepthrough, even had it been common deal, would have been a work of noordinary magnitude; but through a solid plank of mahogany doublyhardened by a process of staining and polishing, was a task thatappalled me.
Besides, even could I succeed in doing so--even could I cut through thetable-top--which, though a severe and tedious labour, would not havebeen impossible--what then? There were all the inside works to be gotout. I knew little of the arrangement of the interior. I onlyremembered having observed a great many pieces of black and white ivory;and vast numbers of strong wire strings. There were shelves too, andpieces that ran lengthwise, and upright pieces, and then the pedals--allof which would be very difficult to detach from their places. Beyondthese, again, there would be a bottom of hard mahogany, to say nothingof the case on the other side, and through these another aperture wouldhave to be made to let me out.
Still, other difficulties stared me in the face. Even should I succeedin getting the works loose, and drawing them out, and disposing of thembehind me, would I then find room enough within the shell of theinstrument to enable me to cut through its opposite side and also thecase, and, still more, to make an entrance into whatever case or box laybeyond? This was a doubtful point, though not very doubtful. It wasrather too certain that I could not do so.
Still, I might work upwards once I had cleared out the shell; but theclearing out the shell was of itself the most doubtful point; for that Ifeared I should not be able to effect at all.
On the whole, the difficulty of this enterprise quite dismayed me; andthe more I thought about it, the less inclination I felt to attempt it.After considering it in all its bearings, I abandoned the ideaaltogether; and instead of trying to make a breach through the greatwall of mahogany, I resolved upon "turning" it.
I was considerably chagrined at being forced into this resolution, themore so that I had lost half a day's labour in hewing through theoutside case; and all this, as well as the opening of the end of thecloth-box, now counted for nothing. But it could not be helped. I hadno time to spend in idle regrets; and, like a besieging general, Icommenced a fresh _reconnaissance_ of the ground, in order to discoverwhat would be my best route to _outflank_ the fortress.
I was still under the belief that it was a bale of linen that lay on thetop, and this quite hindered me from thinking of going upward. Myattention was turned, therefore, to the right and the left.
I knew that by tunnelling either way I should gain no advantage. Itwould not bring me an inch nearer the desired goal; and even after Ishould have made a stage in either direction, I should still be only inthe "second tier." This was discouraging enough--more loss of labourand time--but I dreaded that horrid bale of linen!
One advantage I had gained by knocking out the whole end of thecloth-case. I have already said there was a space of several inchesbetween it and the great _coffin_ that contained the piano. Into thisspace I could insert my arm beyond the elbow, and ascertain somethingabout the sort of goods that lay right and left of me.
I did so. I was able to perceive that on each side was a box or case--both of which, as near as I could guess, were similar to that in which Iwas--that is, both were cloth-cases. This would do well enough. I hadnow obtained such practice in breaking open these chests, and riflingthem of their contents, that I considered it a mere bagatelle; and Ishould not have desired anything better than that the cargo hadconsisted entirely of those goods, for which the West of England haslong been so famous.
While groping along the sides of these cases, it occurred to me to raisemy hand upward, and just ascertain how far the bale of linen projectedover the empty cloth-case. To my astonishment it did not project atall! I say to my astonishment, for those bales I had already examinedwere as near as possible of the same size as the cases of broadcloth;and as this one wanted quite a foot of being "flush" with the inner endof the case, I concluded I should find it that much over at the otherend. But it was not--not an inch over; and therefore, thought I, itmust be a smaller package than the others.
While making this reflection something suggested that I shouldscrutinise the bale more closely. I did so, both with my fingers andthe blade of my knife, and was now agreeably surprised to find that itwas not a _bale_ at all, but a wooden box. It was covered all over witha soft thick substance--a piece of rush matting--and this it was thathad led to my mistake.
The possibility of tunnelling in a vertical direction was now apparent.I could easily hew off the rush matting and then deal with the box as Ihad done with the others.
Of course, I thought no longer of taking the roundabout way by the rightor the left; but at once changed my intention, and determined to travelupward.
I need hardly describe how I made my entry into this mat-covered box.Suffice it to say, that I began by cutting one of the lid boards of theempty cloth-case, and then drawing it downwards till I pulled it out.The open space by the side of the ship proved an advantage to me whilemaking the cross-section, as it allowed me to ply my blade freelythrough the planks.
Having succeeded with one board, I was enabled to detach another withoutany more hewing; and this gave me enough space to work on the bottom ofthe covered case.
By dint of cutting and tearing I soon got the rushes out of the way, andthen the wood was revealed to my touch; and by this delicate sense Iperceived that, like the others, it was a case of common deal.
I only rested a moment before beginning my attack upon it. As it laytwelve inches from the timbers of the ship, one of its angles was quitewithin my reach; and on running my hand along it, I could feel the headsof the nails, that did not appear to be either numerous or very firmlydriven. This gave me satisfaction, and still more was I rejoiced tofind that there was no hooping upon it. I should, perhaps, be enabledto prise off one of the boards, and this would save me the long,wearisome task of cutting it crossways.
At the moment this appeared a fortunate circumstance, and Icongratulated myself upon it. Alas! it proved the cause of a sadmisfortune, that in five minutes had plunged me once more into thedeepest misery.
Half-a-dozen words will explain.
I had inserted the blade of my knife under the board, and was trying ifit felt loose. Not that I believed I could prize it off with this; butrather to ascertain what resistance there was, in order to look out forsome more proper lever.
To my sorrow, I leant too heavily upon the piece of steel; for a short,sharp crack, startling me worse than a shot would have done, announcedthat _the blade was broken_!