TALES OF THE SEA: 12 Maritime Adventure Novels in One Volume (Illustrated)
for many minutes in an attitude of deep abstraction. From this reverie he was at length aroused, by a sound like that produced by the lifting and falling of a light oar into the water. Believing himself about to be annoyed by visiters from the land, he raised his head, and cast a dissatisfied glance over the vessel’s side, to see who was approaching.
A light skiff, such as is commonly used by fishermen in the bays and shallow waters of America, was lying within ten feet of the ship, and in a position where it was necessary to take some little pains in order to observe it. It was occupied by a single man, whose back was towards the vessel, and who was apparently abroad on the ordinary business of the owner of such a boat.
“Are you in search of rudder-fish, my friend, that you hang so closely under my counter?” demanded Wilder. “The bay is said to be full of delicious bass, and other scaly gentlemen, that would far better repay your trouble.”
“He is well paid who gets the bite he baits for,” returned the other, turning his head, and exhibiting the cunning eye and chuckling countenance of old Bob Bunt, as Wilder’s recent and treacherous confederate had announced his name to be.
“How now! Dare you trust yourself with me, in five-fathom water, after the villanous trick you have seen fit”—
“Hist! noble Captain, hist!” interrupted Bob, holding up a finger, to repress the other’s animation, and intimating, by a sign, that their conference must be held in lower tones; “there is no need to call all hands to help us through a little chat. In what way have I fallen to leeward of your favour, Captain?”
“In what way, sirrah! Did you not receive money, to give such a character of this ship to the ladies as (you said yourself) would make them sooner pass the night in a churchyard, than trust foot on board her?”
“Something of the sort passed between us, Captain; but you forgot one half of the conditions, and I overlooked the other; and I need not tell so expert a navigator, that two halves make a whole. No wonder, therefore, that the affair dropt through between us.”
“How! Do you add falsehood to perfidy? What part of my engagement did I neglect?”
“What part!” returned the pretended fisherman, leisurely drawing in a line, which the quick eye of Wilder saw, though abundantly provided with lead at the end, was destitute of the equally material implement—the hook; “What part, Captain! No less a particular than the second guinea.”
“It was to have been the reward of a service done, and not an earnest, like its fellow, to induce you to undertake the duty.”
“Ah! you have helped me to the very word I wanted. I fancied it was not in earnest, like the one I got, and so I left the job half finished.”
“Half finished, scoundrel! you never commenced what you swore so stoutly to perform.”
“Now are you on as wrong a course, my Master, as if you steered due east to get to the Pole. I religiously performed one half my undertaking; and, you will acknowledge, I was only half paid.”
“You would find it difficult to prove that you even did that little.”
“Let us look into the log. I enlisted to walk up the hill as far as the dwelling of the good Admiral’s widow, and there to make certain alterations in my sentiments, which it is not necessary to speak of between us.”
“Which you did not make; but, on the contrary, which you thwarted, by telling an exactly contradictory tale.”
“True.”
“True! knave?—Were justice done you, an acquaintance with a rope’s end would be a merited reward.”
“A squall of words!—If your ship steer as wild as your ideas, Captain, you will make a crooked passage to the south. Do you not think it an easier matter, for an old man like me, to tell a few lies than to climb yonder long and heavy hill? In strict justice, more than half my duty was done when I got into the presence of the believing widow; and when I concluded to refuse the half of the reward that was unpaid, and to take bounty from t’other side.”
“Villain!” exclaimed Wilder, a little blinded by resentment, “even your years shall no longer protect you from punishment. Forward, there! send a crew into the jolly boat, sir, and bring me this old fellow in the skiff on board the ship. Pay no attention to his outcries; I have an account to settle with him, that cannot be balanced without a little noise.”
The mate, to whom this order was addressed, and who had answered the hail, jumped on the rail, where he got sight of the craft he was commanded to chase. In less than a minute he was in the boat, with four men, and pulling round the bows of the ship, in order to get on the side necessary to effect his object. The self-styled Bob Bunt gave one or two strokes with his skulls, and sent, the skiff some twenty or thirty fathoms off, where he lay, chuckling like a man who saw only the success of his cunning, without any apparent apprehensions of the consequences. But, the moment the boat appeared in view, he laid himself to the work with vigorous arms, and soon convinced the spectators that his capture was not to be achieved without abundant difficulty.
For some little time, it was doubtful what course the fugitive meant to take; for he kept whirling and turning in swift and sudden circles, completely confusing and baffling his pursuers, by his skilful and light evolutions. But, soon tiring of this taunting amusement, or perhaps apprehensive of exhausting his own strength, which was powerfully and most dexterously exerted, it was not long before he darted off in a perfectly straight line, taking the direction of the “Rover.”
The chase now grew hot and earnest, exciting the clamour and applause of most of the nautical spectators The result, for a time, seemed doubtful; but, if any thing, the jolly boat, though some distance astern, began to gain, as it gradually overcame the resistance of the water. In a very few minutes, however, the skiff shot under the stern of the other ship, and disappeared, bringing the hull of the vessel in a line with the “Caroline” and its course. The pursuers were not long in taking the same direction and then the seamen of the latter ship began, laughingly to climb the rigging, in order to command a further view, over the intervening object.
Nothing, however, was to be seen beyond but water, and the still more distant island, with its little fort. In a few minutes, the crew of the jolly boat were observed pulling back in their path, returning slowly, like men who were disappointed. All crowded to the side of the ship, in order to hear the termination of the adventure; the noisy assemblage even drawing the two passengers from the cabin to the deck. Instead, however, of meeting the questions of their shipmates with the usual wordy narrative of men of their condition, the crew of the boat wore startled and bewildered looks. Their officer sprang to the deck without speaking, and immediately sought his Commander.
“The skiff was too light for you, Mr Nighthead,” Wilder calmly observed, as the other approached, having never moved, himself, from the place where he had been standing during the whole proceeding.
“Too light, sir! Are you acquainted with the man who pulled it?”
“Not particularly well: I only know him for a knave.”
“He should be one, since he is of the family of the devil!”
“I will not take on myself to say he is as bad as you appear to think, though I have little reason to believe he has any honesty to cast into the sea. What has become of him?”
“A question easily asked, but hard to answer. In the first place, though an old and a gray-headed fellow, he twitched his skiff along as if it floated in air. We were not a minute, or two at the most, behind him; but, when we got on the other side of the slaver, boat and man had vanished!”
“He doubled her bows while you were crossing the stern.”
“Did you see him, then?”
“I confess we did not.”
“It could not be, sir; since we pulled far enough ahead to examine on both sides at once; besides, the people of the slaver knew nothing of him.”
“You saw the slaver’s people?”