"The Pirate Slaver" (continued 6)

Our arrangements, therefore, were soon made; and this done, we sauntered away to the hatchway, singly and by twos at a time, and began to lend a hand in getting the plunder out of the boats and sending it below. Presently the Bangalore’s long-boat came alongside, loaded down to the gunwale with booty, and manned by half-a-dozen Spaniards who were so drunk that they could scarcely stand. One of them, indeed, would have lost his life but for Simpson and Maxwell; for the boat was steered alongside stem-on, and the shock of her collision with the brigantine completely upset the balance of the man who was standing in the bows to fend her off, so that he fell overboard between the boat and the brigantine’s side. The fellow was partially sobered by his sudden immersion, and finding himself overboard, began at once to sing out lustily for help, fully aware that there were probably several sharks still hanging about the two vessels, and momentarily expecting to feel their teeth; whereupon Simpson and Maxwell, both of whom happened to be at the gangway at the moment of the accident, sprang down into the boat and succeeded in dragging the fellow safely out of the water, though not a moment too soon, the water being all a-swirl with the rush of the sea-monsters as the man was dragged inboard. The fright that he had received completely sobered him, but at the same time so thoroughly shook his nerves that he at once scrambled on board the brigantine, declaring with many oaths that he had had enough of boating for one night. His mates were but little better, and were glad enough to leave the boat at my suggestion and allow me and my party to take their places.

We quickly roused the boat’s cargo out of her, and then shoved off for the ship again, making a great fuss and splash with the oars as we did so. When a few fathoms away from the brigantine, however, where in the darkness our movements were not likely to attract a too curious attention, first one oar and then another was laid in until all had been laid in but one; and this one we shifted aft, sculling the boat with it not to the Bangalore’s larboard gangway, at which the other boats were working, but under the ship’s stern and to her starboard mizen channels, where we made her fast, and cautiously scrambled up on to the poop, one by one.

Here we separated, the carpenter boldly making his way forward past the noisy, jabbering, drunken crowd who were grouped about the main-hatchway, engaged in hoisting on deck the goods that the boatswain, down in the hold, was selecting from the ship’s heterogeneous cargo, while the rest—excepting Simpson and myself—quietly stole up the mizen rigging, three of them concealing themselves in the top, while the rest, continuing on up the topmast rigging, made for the main and foretops by way of the stays; the lanterns which were being used to light the pirates at their work about the main-hatchway so effectually dazzling the drunken ruffians’ eyes, that there was not the slightest fear of any of the silent, sober figures stealthily moving about aloft being seen by them; indeed so deep was the gloom created between the masts by the towering expanses of the Indiaman’s canvas that even I, far away as I was from the dazzling light of the lanterns, was unable to follow with my eye the dusky, indistinctly-seen figures any further than the rim of the mizen-top. As for Simpson, it was quite possible for him to move freely about the ship and go wherever he pleased without exciting any suspicion, he being one of the Francesca’s regular crew; I therefore instructed him to go down into the saloon and ascertain whether any of his quondam shipmates were there, and to return to me with his information as speedily as possible.

While he was gone I had time to look about me a little, and note such of the most prominent characteristics of the ship as were to be seen by the dim light of the stars. She was a noble craft, as big as the generality of our first-class frigates, though not quite so beamy, perhaps, in proportion to her length, not quite so high out of the water, and of course not so heavily rigged. She carried a magnificent full poop that reached as far forward as to within about twenty-five feet of the main-mast, with companion, skylight, deck-fittings generally, and poop ladders of polished teak, handsomely and elaborately carved. The fore-part of the poop extended some six feet beyond the cabin front, and underneath it her steering-wheel was placed, with a door on each side of it giving access to the grand saloon. A long row of hencoops ran along each side of the poop; and the deck was further littered with a large number of deck-chairs that had been hurriedly bundled out of the way behind the companion, probably when it was seen that the brigantine undoubtedly meant to attack. The main-deck exhibited all the confusion incidental to a sea-fight, the guns—sixteen twelve-pound carronades—still unsecured, with their rammers and sponges flung down on the deck beside them, shot lying in the scuppers, overturned wadding-tubs, cutlasses, pistols, boarding-pikes, strewed all over the deck, and—horrible sight—several dark, silent figures lying stark and still in pools of blood, just as they had fallen in the fight. The ship’s davits were empty, both her gigs having been lowered to facilitate the transfer of the plunder to the brigantine; her long-boat also was in the water, as already stated, but there were two fine cutters lying bottom up over the quarter-deck, their sterns resting on the break of the poop and their bows-on the gallows. It was a strange sight to look abroad into the dusky star-lit night and observe the boundless Atlantic stretching silent and still on every hand, and then to turn one’s eyes inboard and note the noisy, drunken, ruffianly rabble grouped about the hatchway, naked to the waist, and toiling in the dim lantern light at the tackles by which they were hoisting the bales of costly merchandise out of the hold.

But I had not much time to devote to moralising upon the incongruous sight, for after an absence of some three minutes Simpson re-appeared from the saloon with the information that the place was clear, and that, judging from the sounds he had heard, the passengers had all locked themselves, or been locked, into their cabins.

This being the case, I determined to go below and make a brief investigation of the condition of the unfortunate passengers, as well as to afford them such comfort as was to be derived from a communication to them of my intentions. I accordingly descended the companion-way leading down from the poop, and found myself in a small vestibule, the arrangement of which I could not very well see, as it was unlighted, save for the lamplight that issued from the open door of the saloon; I caught a glimpse, however, of polished panels of rare, ornamental woods, with gleams of gilded mouldings and polished metal handrails, and found my feet sinking into the pile of a soft, thick carpet, which gave me a hint as to the luxurious appointments of the ship. From this vestibule I passed into the saloon itself by a partially open door on the port side, and at once found myself in an exceedingly handsome and luxuriously furnished apartment. It was long and rather narrow in its proportions, having state-rooms on each side, as I could tell at a glance by the doors with Venetian slatted upper panels that occurred at regular intervals in the longitudinal bulkheads on each side of the cabin. These bulkheads were divided into panels by fluted pilasters with richly-carved and gilded capitals, supporting a heavily-carved cornice picked out with gold.

The panels and pilasters were enamelled in a delicate tint of cream, with mouldings picked out in French grey, the former being decorated with very handsome paintings illustrative of Oriental views and scenery. Richly-upholstered divans occupied the spaces along the bulkheads between the several state-room doors; a long table of polished mahogany, having sofa seats with reversible backs on each side of it, stretched down the centre of the saloon, with another and shorter table flanking it athwartships at the after-end; a buffet loaded with richly-cut decanters and glass, backed up by a large gilt-framed mirror, occupied the whole space against the fore-bulkhead between the two entrance doors; and a very handsome piano, open, and with some music on it, occupied a similar position at the after-end of the saloon, two doors in the after-bulkhead proclaiming the existence of at least two more state-rooms. The apartment was lighted during the day by a large skylight filled in with painted glass—in which were fixed opposite each other a barometer and a tell-tale compass—and at night by two very fine silver-plated chandeliers each carrying six lamps, only four of which, however, were now lighted; and the deck was covered with a rich, thick carpet, apparently of Oriental manufacture, into which one’s feet sank with noiseless tread. The state-rooms were all in total darkness apparently, for I could catch no gleam of light issuing from the pierced upper panels of any of them; but the sound of an occasional sob or moan told me that some at least of them were occupied.

I located one of the cabins from which these sounds came, and tapped gently at the door; there was no response, but the sounds instantly ceased. I tapped again, and said—

“Will you open the door, please? I am a friend, and have some intelligence to communicate that may be interesting to you.”

Still no response; but from the next cabin there now issued a man’s voice, inquiring—

“Do I hear some one out there proclaiming himself a friend?”

“Yes,” answered I. “I am a friend; and my present object is to communicate to you some intelligence that I hope may prove agreeable and comforting. I am quite alone and unarmed, and you may therefore open your cabin-door without fear.”

“Sir,” replied the voice, “I know not who you are, or how you come to be on board this most ill-starred ship. Your voice, however, has a reassuring tone in it, and I would risk opening my door to you if I could; but I cannot, for—like all the rest of the passengers, I believe—I am bound and absolutely helpless, and I think that, if you will take the trouble to try, you will find that we are all locked in. Pray, who are you, sir? and how did you find your way on board the Bangalore? Are the pirates gone yet?”

“No,” said I, as I tried the door and found that it was indeed locked. “I regret to say that they are not, and therefore I am for the present obliged to leave you in your uncomfortable situation. But take comfort, and believe me that it shall not be for one moment longer than I can help; the pirates are unlikely to very much prolong their stay now, and as soon as they are at a safe distance I will come again and release you all—provided, of course, that my plans do not go amiss. My name is Dugdale, and I am a naval officer—a midshipman—who has been unfortunate enough to fall into the hands of the pirates in an unsuccessful attack upon them more than a month ago, and this is the first opportunity that I have had to attempt my escape. I must go again now, as my discovery on board here by the pirates would mean utter ruin to us all; but I will return as soon as I can with prudence. Meanwhile,” slightly raising my voice so that all might hear, “take comfort, and hope for the best.”

“Good-bye! Heaven bless and prosper you!” fervently ejaculated the unknown, as I moved away from the door; and I thought I heard faint murmurs of a similar import from some of the other cabins, but could not be certain, as one of the outer doors giving direct access to the main-deck suddenly opened, and I had to make a dash of it for the dark vestibule in order to reach the concealment of the still darker companion-way to avoid detection. My alarm was groundless, however; for the newcomer proved to be Joe Maxwell, the carpenter, whom I saw enter the saloon, after a careful reconnaissance of its interior, with several plugs under one arm, and a maul in his hand. Seeing who it was, I followed him, and unexpectedly ran against him as he was again coming out.

“Who the—oh, it’s you, sir! beg your pardon, I’m sure, but I thought it was one of them sneakin’ pirate chaps a-prowlin’ round,” he exclaimed. “I thought I heard a sound o’ some sort as I comed in from the deck, and thinks I, ‘That’s one o’ them cowardly villains that has sneaked aft for some purpose of his own that ain’t no good, I dare swear. I’ll just see what the scoundrel’s up to, and if he’s after anything very houtragis, I’ll maybe take the liberty of smashin’ his skull with this here maul, and droppin’ him over the starn to the sharks, where many a better man than he went this a’ternoon.’ Lucky for him that it’s you, sir, as the Irishman says. I’m just a-goin’ to make my way down into the run, so as to be all handy for pluggin’ up the holes again that these here murderin’ thieves intends to bore through the dear old gal’s skin. I think they’ll be pretty sure to come aft to do it; it’ll either be there or down in the fore-peak, where they’d have to shovel away a lot of coal to get at her below the water-line, so I expect they’ll make for the run. Now, sir, it’s a very good job as I met you just here, because I can show you the lazarette hatch—here it is, under our feet.” And he turned back a large mat upon which we were standing, disclosing a small, square hatch flush with the deck.

“Now, sir,” he continued, “I’ll be off below at once; because, from what I saw as I comed aft, I fancy them Spanish thieves is thinkin’ about toppin’ their booms, and if so, we’ve no time to spare. There,” as he raised the hatch and dropped through the opening, “I’m all right now, sir; I can make my way well enough without a light, though I’ve got a candle and matches in my pocket that’ll give light enough to work by as soon as them villains have cleared out. Now, sir, please put on the hatch again, will ye, and don’t forget to spread the mat over it. And when them blackguards have gone you can send somebody to let me out.”

“All right, Maxwell, never fear; I’ll see to that,” I answered, as the man disappeared in the gloom. “Good luck to you. And whatever those fellows may do, be sure that you keep silent and do not attempt to interfere with them; let them do their work and go away, and as soon as you hear the hatch close after them, go ahead and plug the holes as quickly as you like, and be sure that you make a thorough job of it.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” came his reply, already muffled by distance and the intervening casks and cases among which he was making his way, “you may trust me for that.”

I carefully replaced the hatch, adjusted the mat over it, and made my way cautiously up on the poop. It was evident, from what I now saw, that Maxwell was only just in time; for the pirates had knocked off work and were coming up out of the hold, refreshing themselves as they emerged by copious draughts from a tub of strong grog that stood on the deck conveniently near the hatchway. They were all pretty far gone in a state of intoxication, and were singing a jumble of at least a dozen forecastle ditties in tones of maudlin sentiment, or laughing and jeering at nothing in particular as they reeled and staggered about the deck. Disgusting as was the sight, I was glad to see it, for I felt that men in their condition would never notice the absence of Simpson or myself from the brigantine, still less that of the unaccustomed faces of those of the Bangalore’s crew who had joined me and were now snugly concealed aloft. Nor were they capable of doing very much more mischief, unless perchance they should accidentally set the ship on fire, which was what I most greatly dreaded; if, happily, we escaped this danger all might yet be well, for I felt convinced that, once on board the brigantine again, and the unhappy negroes once more set to the sweeps, nearly every man in the accursed craft’s forecastle would betake himself to his hammock and stay there until morning. There was of course the risk that Mendouca might send for me and ask me to look after his vessel for him through the night, knowing or guessing as he would the condition of his crew; but I did not believe that he would, at least not so soon after the perpetration of such fearful atrocities as he had openly committed that afternoon.

The men having helped themselves freely from the grog-tub, until it seemed that they could take no more, tumbled rather than scrambled down into the boat alongside, and I was just beginning to cherish the hope that after all they would go away forgetting to scuttle the ship, when I saw José, the boatswain—who appeared to have assumed the command of the party—seize and detain the only man except himself who still remained on the ship’s deck. He said something to this man, and then they both staggered away forward and I lost sight of them in the deep shadows that enshrouded the fore-part of the ship. They were gone about ten minutes; and then they re-appeared, the boatswain armed with a large auger. As they passed the main-hatchway, on their way aft, José seized one of the still lighted lanterns that were standing on the deck, and seemed to direct his companion to take another. This the man did, and continuing their way aft, the pair entered the saloon from the main-deck; and presently, peering cautiously down through the open skylight, I saw that the two ruffians were groping about under the cabin table, no doubt searching for the lazarette hatch. Their search was of course in vain; and at length I overheard the boatswain assert with an oath that it was useless to search for it any longer, they must get the steward out of his pantry, and make him show them where it was. They then left the saloon, and there was silence for a few minutes; then, going to the head of the companion-ladder, I heard José demanding in broken English, with a profusion of expletives, where was the opening of the lazarette. A strange voice replied in trembling tones; and then I heard the mat flung back and the hatch wrenched off with a clatter. A few more oaths followed, there was a scrambling sound, and I concluded that the two miscreants had descended to the performance of their dastardly task.

Then ensued what seemed like a very long—although it was actually a comparatively short—period of anxious suspense, for completely successful as we had been thus far, our absence from the brigantine might easily be discovered at any moment; and in that case there was no alternative for us between fighting to the death and ignominious surrender. I was more anxious on my own behalf than on that of the others, for their absence was scarcely likely to be noted by their drunken comrades until the next morning, while, as for me, should Mendouca take it into his head to require my presence, it would no sooner be reported to him that I was not to be found than he would have a very shrewd suspicion of what had happened; and I felt convinced that, with my knowledge of the enormities that he had perpetrated on that dreadful day, he would never willingly suffer me to escape from him alive. Then there was Pedro, too. The lad had, for some inscrutable reason, taken a violent fancy for me, and, although I have not very frequently referred to him in the telling of this story, had attached himself to me with almost the fidelity of a dog, sharing in my watch, and seizing every opportunity to be in my company. Should he find himself at liberty to seek me I should be lost, for he would not be content until he had found me. There were just two chances in my favour against many adverse possibilities: the first being that Mendouca’s condition would confine the lad to his side all through the night; the second lying in the fact that I had taken the precaution to lock my cabin-door and remove the key before leaving the brigantine, so that should it chance that I was sought for, it might be thought that I had locked myself into my cabin in anger at the piratical deed that had been perpetrated. But I grew increasingly uneasy as the minutes dragged their slow length along, expecting every moment to hear a hail from the brigantine inquiring as to my whereabouts. It was therefore with a feeling of keen delight that, at the expiration of about twenty-five minutes, when my state of suspense had become almost unendurable, as I stood listening at the head of the companion-way I heard José’s voice again, and the sounds of his own and his companion’s emergence from the lazarette.

“There,” I heard him exclaim in Spanish, in a drunken voice and with a jeering laugh, “that job is done, and pretty effectually, too; I don’t suppose she will float longer than three hours more, or four at the most, and then who is to know what has become of her? It will be supposed that she foundered in a gale; and that will be the end of the matter. It is a pity, Miguel, that we should be obliged to destroy so fine a ship, but she could never be of any use to us, and necessity has no law, you know. Now—let me consider—there is one thing more to be done before we leave; what is it? It was in my mind a moment ago! Ah, yes, of course, that is it; we have to put this miserable poltroon of a steward back into his pantry, lock the door upon him, and—yes, that is all, I think. Come along, amigo!”

I heard the steward begging piteously not to be locked up again; for although the fellow had probably not understood a single word of what José had said, he had sense enough to know that the two ruffians before him had scuttled the ship, and that if locked up in his pantry again he would probably drown there, like a rat in a trap. His entreaties, however, were of course unavailing with two men who knew not the meaning of mercy; there was a Spanish oath or two, the sound of a scuffle, mingled with further cries of distress from the steward, the slamming of a door, the sharp click of a lock; and a moment later José and his companion emerged upon the deck, staggered to the gangway, scrambled down the side, and the boat was shoved off.

I waited until the boat was fairly away from the ship’s side, and then, slipping down the dark companion-way, groped about until I had found the pantry, which I unlocked, to find the unhappy steward, bound hand and foot, prostrate on the deck, weeping bitterly. In reply to my question he told me where I could lay my hand upon a knife, finding which I cut him adrift, and directed him to go forward to the forecastle to ascertain whether any of the crew were imprisoned down there. Then, making my way to the still open lazarette, I swung myself down into it, and called Maxwell’s name as loudly as I dared. He heard and answered me at once.

“The rascals have left the ship,” I cried, “so you may ram those plugs home as tightly as you can, and perhaps even venture to give them a gentle tap or two, but we must leave the final driving until the brigantine has moved off; everything has gone right thus far, and it will never do to spoil it all now by being impatient. Has she taken in much water?”

“Not more than we can pump out of her in ten minutes,” was the reply, as I sighted him creeping toward me along the narrow space underneath the beams. “They only bored five holes through her, and I’ve already plugged ’em tight enough to stop the water from comin’ in—though of course they’ll want a few good taps on the head to make ’em all secure. But that job can wait until the brigantine is a mile or two further away.”

“Had you any difficulty in plugging the holes?” I asked, as honest Joe emerged into the more open spaces about the hatchway.

“Not a bit, sir,” he answered. “You see the way of it was this: As soon as I got to understand that they was likely to scuttle the ship, the first thing I says to myself was: ‘I wonder,’ I says, ‘what size auger them murderin’ scoundrels is likely to use? Because if I only knowed that, I could make my plugs to fit the holes.’ Then the next thing I thought was that prob’ly they wouldn’t remember to bring a tool aboard with ’em, and that they’d hunt for some’at of the sort aboard here. So I goes to my cabin, gets out a inch and a half auger, a chisel, a hammer and some nails, and places ’em on the tarpaulin of the fore-hatch, where anybody going for’ard couldn’t help seein’ of ’em; and ‘There,’ I says to myself, ‘if those fellers haven’t brought no auger aboard with ’em, that’s the tool they’ll use.’ So I chanced it, and made my plugs to fit a inch and a half hole; and, as it turned out, I was right; they used my auger what I had left for ’em, and as soon as their backs was turned I slipped down and screwed the plugs into the holes.”

“Excellent!” said I. “And now, Maxwell, the next job is to break open the state-rooms and release the poor ladies and gentlemen who are confined there. Do you think you can do it without making much noise?”

“Lord bless you, yes, sir,” was the cheerful reply. “I’ll just go for’ard and get a bit of wire, and I’ll pick the locks of them cabin-doors in next to no time, and make no noise about it either.”

“Then come along and let us get it done at once. That must be our first job,” said I.

Chapter Eighteen.

Re-appearance of the ‘Francesca’.

While Maxwell stole forward to get his wire, I crept up on the poop again, and carefully avoiding the skylight, so that my figure might not be revealed by the coloured rays that streamed from it, found that the boat with José and his companions, and the last of the plunder, was just going alongside the brigantine. The first to scramble out of her was José; and there was light enough about the brigantine’s decks to enable me to see that he went straight aft to the companion, which he descended. He was absent from the deck but a very few minutes, however; and when he re-appeared I supposed that he had been below to make his report to Mendouca and to receive that individual’s orders, for as he passed along the deck I heard him shout to the crew—

“Now, then, look alive there with those bales, and get the deck clear as quickly as possible, so that we can get the niggers on deck and the sweeps at work once more. We’ve got all that we can take from the Englishman, and now the sooner we are off the better, for she won’t float above two or three hours longer; and if a breeze was to spring up, and bring a cruiser along with it, it would be bad for us if we were found in this neighbourhood. So bundle those bales down the hatchway anyhow, men, and clear the decks at once. We must stow the goods properly afterwards.”

This was excellent—very much better than I had expected; for a dreadful idea had suggested itself to me, that Mendouca might take it into his head to remain by the ship until she should show unmistakable signs of sinking, in which case there would be nothing for us but another fight, which, short-handed as we were, would not suit our book at all.

The men on board the Francesca, woke up a little at José’s order, and soon had the last boat unloaded and the decks clear; the slaves were then ordered on deck, the Bangalore’s boats cast adrift, the sweeps rigged out, and, with I think the most fervent emotion of gratitude and delight that I had ever experienced, I at length had the satisfaction of seeing the brigantine stir sluggishly against the background of the star-spangled heavens, turn her bows slightly away from us, and finally glide off, with a quiet, gentle, scarcely-perceptible motion, in a westerly direction.

While I was still watching her I caught sight of Maxwell creeping along the deck from forward, under the shelter of the bulwarks, so that the light from the still burning lanterns that the pirates had left behind them might not disclose his moving figure to any of the eyes on board the Francesca that might be turned upon the ship; and making my way down the companion, I joined him in the vestibule, and we entered the cabin together.

I led him straight to the door of the state-room with the occupant of which I had previously held a short conversation, and directed Maxwell to open it, at the same time knocking upon the panel and saying—

“Sir, I am happy to inform you that the pirates have at length left us, and we are about to make an attempt to release you.”

“Thank God for that!” fervently ejaculated a voice that I had not heard before. “Be as quick as you can, pray, for I fear that my poor husband here is dead or dying; and he should be attended to without a moment’s delay.”

“That’s Mrs Maynard’s voice!” exclaimed the carpenter, as he worked away with his wire; “I know it well. Somebody told me that the colonel was hurt—stabbed, I think they said, in protectin’ his daughters from the ill-usage of some of them Spanish ruffians.”

“Say you so, man?” I exclaimed. “Then never mind fiddling with that wire any longer. Let us put our shoulders to the door and burst it open!”

“Half a second, sir; I’ve got the thing now, and—there, that’s all right! Now try the door, sir!”

As the man spoke I heard the click of the lock as it went back, and, turning the handle, the door opened, and I entered.

The cabin was a fine, roomy one, and of good height, as cabins went in those days; it contained two standing bunks, one above the other, fitted with brass rods and damask curtains, a sofa against the side of the ship, a wash-stand in a recess between the bunks and the bulkhead adjoining the saloon, a framed mirror above it, a folding mahogany table against the transverse bulkhead, brass pins upon which to hang clothing, a curtain to draw across the doorway, a handsome lamp with a ground-glass globe hung in gimbals in the centre of the transverse bulkhead, two large travelling trunks and three or four smaller cases, broken open and the contents strewn upon the carpeted deck, and prone among them, bound hand and foot and lashed together, were the figures of a man and woman, both evidently elderly, although their precise ages could hardly be guessed by the imperfect light that streamed in from the saloon through the open door.

As I entered the apartment, noting these details in a single comprehensive glance, the woman moaned—

“Oh, sir, for the love of God pray release us from these cruel bonds as quickly as possible; they are bound so tightly that the circulation of the blood is stopped, and we have been suffering the most excruciating agony for hours.”

“I will cut you adrift at once, madam,” said I, unsheathing the long knife which was attached to the belt that Simpson had lent me with the clothes. “Had I known that you were in this cruel plight, I would have risked everything in the endeavour to release you when I first entered the cabin.”

I cut the unfortunate couple adrift, and, having first taken the precaution to draw the curtain of the side-light, lighted the lamp, and, with Maxwell’s assistance, raised the lady into a sitting position; after which we lifted her husband and placed him on the bed in the lower berth. He was a very fine, handsome man of about fifty years of age, with that indescribable and unmistakable look of the soldier about him that seems to set its mark upon every military man. His wife was perhaps seven or eight years his junior, still exceedingly good-looking, and must, at her best, have been a singularly lovely woman.

The colonel, it appeared, had, in common with the other passengers who had any womankind on board, locked his wife and daughters into their cabins when it was foreseen that an attack upon the ship was inevitable; and it was after the fight was over that he was severely stabbed in resisting an attempt on the part of one of the Francesca’s crew to force open his daughters’ cabin. Probably the poor man would have been murdered outright but for the opportune appearance of Mendouca, who sternly ordered every one of his men out of the cabin, except two, whom he personally supervised as they executed his order to bind all the survivors hand and foot and confine them in the cabins. Luckily for the unfortunate passengers, the first thought of the men had been drink, and the second, plunder; and by the time that these two appetites had been satisfied, all thought of further violence had passed out of their heads.

The first thing now to be done was to find the ship’s surgeon—if he were still alive; so, leaving Maxwell in the cuddy to continue his lock-picking operations, I sallied out on deck and, first softly calling to the men aloft that they might now venture to come down, hunted up the steward, and inquired of him whether he knew where the surgeon was to be found. He answered that the surgeon, purser, and three mates were all berthed in the after-house, between the main-mast and the main-hatch, and that probably the man I wanted would be found there, adding that, as he believed the pirates had flung all the keys overboard, he would take the liberty of going into poor Captain Mason’s cabin, and bringing me a bunch of spare keys that he knew were always kept there. This he did, and, finding the key of the after-house, we entered it together, to find the unhappy surgeon and purser bound hand and foot, and lashed together in such a manner that neither of them could move, upon the floor of the cabin. To release the pair was but the work of a moment; after which, having directed the doctor to hasten to the cuddy and attend to the colonel’s injuries, I made a survey of the decks with the result that fourteen more of the Bangalore’s crew were found, of whom six were dead, and eight more or less seriously wounded; the latter were removed to their bunks in the forecastle forthwith and attended to by Mr Grant, the surgeon, as soon as he had dressed the wounds of Colonel Maynard and two other passengers. I may as well say here, to save time, that, thanks to Grant’s skill and unremitting attention, all the wounded were reported to be doing well and, with the exception of Colonel Maynard, out of danger.

The keys of all the cabins having been found, and the doors unlocked by the steward, Maxwell’s services were no longer required in the cuddy; as therefore the brigantine had by this time reached the tolerably safe distance of a mile from us, I sent him down into the run again to drive the plugs well home and make them perfectly secure, and set to work with the steward to release the remaining passengers from their exceedingly uncomfortable condition. This was not a long task, and when it was completed I found that we mustered nine gentlemen, of whom three were wounded, eleven ladies, three children—two boys and a girl—seven maids, and an Indian ayah or nurse. One family, consisting of a lady and her daughter, were in a dreadful state of distress, the husband and father—a Mr Richard Temple, resident magistrate of one of the up-country districts—having been shot dead while gallantly fighting in defence of the ship. The rest were in fairly good spirits, now that they found that there was a hope of ultimate escape from the perils that had so unexpectedly beset them; for I learned that although their personal baggage had been rifled and all money and jewellery taken, they had been spared any further outrage than that of being bound with unnecessary and cruel rigour and confined to their cabins.

The poor souls had been without food or drink since tiffin. I thought therefore that it would not be amiss to set them down to a good meal, and with that object directed the steward to find his mates and also the cook, if possible, it appearing that none of the individuals named had been seen either during or since the attack, which gave rise to the suspicion that they had contrived to conceal themselves somewhere about the ship. This proved to be the case, the cook, with his mates, and the three under-stewards being eventually discovered in a disused pig-sty under the topgallant-forecastle, carefully concealed beneath a lot of lumber that they had dragged over themselves. From this secluded retreat they were speedily routed out, and, being solemnly assured that all danger was now past, were at length prevailed upon to resume their duty and to prepare a long-delayed dinner—or supper, as it might be more appropriately called—for the cuddy occupants.

When at length the meal was served, I took the liberty of occupying the poor murdered captain’s seat at the table; and while we were eating and drinking, I managed to gain a pretty clear idea of the incidents of the attack upon the Bangalore each one having passed through some more or less trying experience which he or she was anxious to relate to the rest; and when the meal was over Mr Molyneux, a Calcutta merchant, rose to his feet and, while formally thanking me on behalf of himself and his fellow-passengers for what I had already done, expressed their perfect concurrence in the wish of the surviving crew that I should take command of the ship, merely suggesting the great desirability of navigating her forthwith to the nearest civilised port. This, of course, was my own fixed intention, and I suggested Sierra Leone as the most suitable spot for which to make, it being as near as any other, with the advantage that the necessary officers to navigate the ship home, and a sufficient number of men to make up the full complement of the crew, might almost certainly be reckoned upon being found there.

The brigantine had left us, and with her departure everybody appeared to consider the danger as past. This, however, was an opinion which I by no means shared; for, knowing Mendouca so well as I did, I felt that it was by no means unlikely that, having reached an offing of some ten or twelve miles, he might order the sweeps to be laid in until daylight, in order that he might remain in our neighbourhood and assure himself by the actual demonstration of his own—or Pedro’s—eyesight that the Bangalore had foundered, taking with her to the bottom all evidence of the atrocious crime of which he and his crew had been guilty. And, even should no uncomfortable doubts on this point assail him, he must learn, ere the lapse of many hours, that I and others were missing; and then, guessing, as he would at once, at the explanation of our absence, nothing would prevent him from returning and taking, or attempting to take, such measures as would insure our eternal silence.

I therefore considered it a singular if not an actually providential occurrence that when I went out on deck after dinner—or supper—the sky should have become overcast, with scarcely a star to be seen, with every appearance of both wind and rain ere long. It had become exceedingly dark, so much so that no sign of the brigantine was to be discovered, but by listening intently the roll and clatter of her sweeps were still to be caught; and it was with very deep and fervent thankfulness that, after listening intently for several minutes, I felt convinced that she was still receding from us. I had given strict orders that the lanterns should be allowed to remain burning on deck, just as the pirates had left them, that no other lights should be kindled anywhere about the ship except where it was possible to effectually mask their light, and that no one should show anything of himself above the level of the topgallant-rail upon any consideration; but now, the brigantine having been gone from us rather more than two hours, I gave instructions that all the lanterns on deck and all lights of every kind visible from outside the ship might be simultaneously extinguished, so that, should anybody happen to be watching our lights, they might come to the conclusion that the ship had filled and we were gone to the bottom. This done, I mustered my entire crew and, first hoisting in the long-boat, sent them aloft to stow all the lighter sails, so that we might not be wholly unprepared should the change of weather that now seemed impending be ushered in with a squall. This occupied the men a full hour and a half, at the end of which, having brought the ship into tolerably manageable condition, I gave them permission to lie down and snatch a nap if they could, but to hold themselves ready for any emergency that might arise.

It was by this time long past midnight, and so pitchy dark that, all lights having been extinguished, it was impossible to see one end of the poop from the other. The stars had all vanished, and the silence was so profound as to be quite oppressive, not even the sound of the pirate’s sweeps now being audible; though whether they had been laid in, or whether the vessel had increased her distance so greatly as to have passed beyond the range of sound, I knew not, but I strongly suspected the former contingency. This profound silence was maintained for nearly an hour, and then my hearing—rendered unusually acute no doubt by the intense darkness that enveloped me—once more became conscious of a regular, measured, rhythmical sound, the sound of sweeps again being plied, and, without doubt, on board the Francesca. What did it mean? Had Mendouca, in his feverish and painful condition, grown impatient of delay and ordered the sweeps to be again manned, after having given instructions for them to be laid in? Or, as my forebodings whispered to me, had the absence of myself and others been already discovered, and was the brigantine returning in search of us? For the first quarter of an hour or so after the sounds had once again broken in upon the silence this was a question very difficult to decide; but when half-an-hour had passed the fact was indisputable that the pirates were returning, for the sounds had become distinctly clearer and stronger than they had at first been.

What was now to be done? There was but one course for us; namely, to take every possible measure for the defence of the ship to our last gasp, for I felt assured that, should Mendouca recover possession of her, his fury at the trick that we had played him would be sated by nothing short of our absolute destruction. Having quickly made up my mind upon this point, I was in the act of groping my way along the poop, with the object of calling the men, when I thought I felt a faint stirring of the air, and, pausing for a moment, I moistened the back of my hand and held it up, turning it this way and that until I felt a distinct sensation of coolness. Yes, there was no doubt about it, I had felt a cat’s-paw, and it seemed to be coming over our starboard quarter; while the sound of the sweeps was away broad on our port bow. I could scarcely restrain a cheer as the hope of a breeze thus came to encourage me at the very moment when a new and terrible danger was threatening us. I paused for an instant and reflected; and my thoughts took somewhat this shape: “If Mendouca is returning—and he undoubtedly is—it is because through some unfortunate combination of circumstances my absence has already been discovered, and he has at once jumped to the correct conclusion that I have somehow contrived to escape from the brigantine to the ship. And he knows me well enough to feel assured that, once here, I shall not tamely allow the Indiaman to go down under my feet; or, if that should prove unpreventible, that I shall at least release the prisoners and concoct with them some plan of escape, such as taking to the boats, or constructing a raft. And he also knows that, in either case, should we succeed in preserving our lives until we are fallen in with, or picked up, his atrocious act of piracy and murder will be proclaimed, and every craft in the squadron will be specially ordered to keep a look-out for him and effect his capture at all hazards. Therefore he will spare no effort to find the ship and destroy her. Now—ah, there is another little breath of wind, I felt it distinctly that time!—should he fail to find us, what course will he pursue? Why, he will certainly expect us to make our way northward—for Sierra Leone, most probably, the port that we have already determined to steer for—and he will do his best to overtake and recapture us. Therefore our best course will obviously be to head to the southward, and thus increase the distance between the two craft as rapidly as possible, so that they may be out of sight of each other at daybreak; and then to proceed upon our proper course under easy sail.”

This seemed to me to be a very fair and sound line of reasoning, and I determined to act upon it forthwith. I accordingly made my way forward, routed out the men, told them there was a breeze coming, and ordered them to brace up the yards and trim the sheets aft for a close-hauled stretch on the port tack, at the same time cautioning them to work silently, as I had only too much reason to fear that the pirates were returning to search for the ship. This news, confirmed as it was by the now perfectly audible sound of the sweeps, was enough for them, and they went about the decks so silently, speaking in whispers, and carefully taking each rope off its belaying-pin, and laying it down on deck, instead of flinging it down with clatter enough to wake the Seven Sleepers, that I am certain no one in the cabins, even had they been awake, could possibly have been aware of what was happening.

By the time that we had got our canvas trimmed the breeze had become quite perceptible, and the ship had gathered steerage-way; we therefore wore her round, and presently had the ineffable satisfaction of hearing a slight but distinct tinkling and gurgle of water under the bows.

With the springing up of this most welcome little breeze the sound of the sweeps first became by imperceptible degrees less audible and then was lost altogether, but whether this arose from the fact that the wind carried the sound away from us, or whether it was that they had laid in the sweeps, and were making sail upon the brigantine, it was impossible to tell, nor did I greatly care, provided that the breeze freshened sufficiently to carry us out of sight before daybreak, this now being my great anxiety. Maxwell assured me that the Bangalore was a real clipper, easily beating everything that they had fallen in with, both on the passage out and on their homeward voyage. But no ship can sail fast without a fair amount of wind, and so far this breeze that had come to us was a mere breathing, just enough perhaps to waft us along at a speed of about two knots, or two and a half, maybe, whereas what I wanted was at least a seven-knot breeze, that would take us clean out of sight of our starting-point before dawn. For I knew that, if the Bangalore was a clipper, so too was the Francesca; and if her people once caught sight of so much as the heads of our royals from their own royal-yard, they would chase us as long as there was the slightest hope of overhauling us. And the knowledge of this fact made me wonder whether I had not acted rather imprudently in stowing all the lighter sails, instead of leaving them abroad to give us all the help of which they were capable. I was just inwardly debating this point, and had arrived at the conclusion that we ought to set them again, when the atmosphere seemed suddenly to grow more dense, and in a moment down came the rain in a regular tropical deluge, like the bursting of a waterspout, the sails flapped to the masts, and we were becalmed again. This was horribly vexatious, not to say disheartening; but, happily for our peace of mind, it was a state of things that did not last long; it merely meant a shift of wind, for presently, when the shower had ceased as abruptly as it had begun, the breeze sprang up again, this time coming out from the northward, and with gay and thankful hearts we squared away before it, or rather, headed just far enough to the eastward of south to permit everything set to draw properly. Moreover, the breeze gradually but steadily freshened, until in about an hour from the time when the ship first began to move we were going seven knots at the very least.

This was so far satisfactory, especially as the sky remained overcast and the night intensely dark, rendering it utterly impossible to see anything beyond a distance of three or four of the ship’s lengths on either hand, and I now had good hopes of running the brigantine out of sight before daylight. That she was still engaged in the search for us, however, soon became evident; for about three-quarters of an hour after the springing up of the true breeze our attention was suddenly attracted by the outburst of a brilliant glare of bluish-white light on our port-quarter, which was nothing less than the brigantine burning port-fires, probably in an attempt to discover our whereabouts by the reflection of the light on our sails, or possibly in the expectation of catching sight, by means of the light, either of our boats, or a raft, or perhaps a hen-coop and grating or two floating about as evidence of our having gone down. However, she was about five miles distant from us at that time, and although the light of the port-fires rendered her perfectly visible to us, I had little or no fear that it would betray our whereabouts to her people. She remained dodging about and occasionally burning port-fires for fully another hour—by which time we had sunk her to her foreyard below the horizon, as viewed from our deck—and then, as she discontinued her pyrotechnic display, we lost sight of her. At daybreak I sent a man right up to the main-royal-yard, where he remained until the light was thoroughly strong, and then came down with the report that the horizon was clear.

This was highly satisfactory, inasmuch as it confirmed my hope that if Mendouca was still prosecuting a search for us—as I felt sure he was, he having of course failed to discover any evidence of the ship having foundered—he was looking for us in a northerly direction, very probably cracking on in the belief that we had gone that way and that there was still a chance of overtaking us.

At eight bells in the morning watch we brought the ship to the wind on the larboard tack, with her head about east-north-east, and I then divided my scanty crew into two watches, with Joe Maxwell, the carpenter, as my chief mate, and a very smart A.B., named Tom Sutcliffe, as second. This done, the watch was set, and put to the job of straightening-up generally and pumping out the ship, this latter job being accomplished and the pumps sucking in just under the ten minutes that Maxwell had allowed for it. It was clear, therefore, that our hull was sound, and that in that respect, at all events, with the best—or rather the worst—intentions in the world, the pirates had done us little or no harm.

Our most serious difficulty was the want of water, Mendouca having literally cleared the ship of every drop she possessed, save some eight or ten gallons in the scuttle-butt, which they had either overlooked, or perhaps had considered not worth taking. But here again it appeared as though God in His infinite mercy had taken compassion on us; for about noon the wind died away, and I had only just time to take my meridian observation for the latitude when the heavens clouded over, and toward the close of the afternoon we were visited by a terrific thunderstorm accompanied by a perfect deluge of rain, during which, by loosely spreading all the awnings fore and aft, we were enabled to catch a sufficient quantity of water to carry us without stint as far at least as Sierra Leone.

It remained calm until about midnight, when a little breeze sprang up from the eastward which enabled us to lay our course nicely while it fanned us along at a speed of about five knots. The next morning broke bright and clear; and with the first of the light the look-out reported a sail broad on our weather bow. Maxwell, fearing that it might be our old enemy, the Francesca showing up again, came down at once and called me, stating his fears, and causing me to rush up on the poop just as I had sprung from my cot, quite regardless of appearances, although I could scarcely believe that Mendouca, if indeed we should be so unfortunate as to fall in with him again, would make his appearance in the eastern board. I must confess, however, that when I first reached the deck and beheld the stranger, I experienced a slight qualm of apprehension, for the craft was undoubtedly square-rigged, forward at least, and she was steering as straight as a hair for us, with studding-sails set on both sides, and coming down very fast. A few minutes’ work with the telescope, however, sufficed to remove our apprehensions, so far at least as the Francesca was concerned, for as the light grew brighter we were enabled to discern that the stranger was a brig, and as I continued working away with the glass the vessel seemed to assume a familiar aspect, as though I had seen her before. At first I thought that it might possibly prove to be the Spanish brig that had been anchored just ahead of us off Banana Peninsula; but as she drew nearer I recognised with intense delight that it was none other than the dear old Barracouta herself. “And with her appearance,” thought I, “all my troubles are ended; for doubtless Captain Stopford will not only lend me men enough to carry the ship to Sierra Leone, but will also escort me thither.”

Chapter Nineteen.

To the Congo again upon a Special Mission.

There was very great delight manifested fore and aft when I was able to announce that it was a British man-o’-war that was bearing down upon us; for all hands felt, like myself, that we had only to state our recent experiences to secure her protection at least until our arrival in safer waters. There was one exception to this, however, in the person of Simpson, who no sooner learned the true character of the strange sail, than he came aft and told me his story; which, in brief, was to the effect that he had originally belonged to our navy, but had deserted, out of affection for Mendouca—who had shown him great kindness—when that individual chose to shake off his allegiance and abjure his country. And now, of course, he dreaded nothing so much as recognition and seizure, for not only was he a deserter, but he had also been guilty of taking an active part in more than one deed of piracy perpetrated by his chief; he therefore implored me to let him keep below out of sight during the presence of the man-o’-war—which clearly meant to speak us—and also to omit all mention of or reference to him in the narrative of my own personal adventures. This I readily promised to do; for although I was fully conscious that, in making such a promise, I was screening an individual who had most seriously transgressed the laws of his country, I could not help feeling that he had also contributed in a very important degree toward the saving of the Bangalore, and all on board her; and I considered that this to a very great extent made amends for his past misdeeds, although it was quite probable that if he were arraigned for it, his judges might not take quite as lenient a view of the case. There it was, however; but for him I might never have succeeded in effecting my escape from the Francesca, and in that case the Bangalore and all on board her would have gone to the bottom. I therefore felt fully justified in promising to afford him all the protection that lay in my power.

When the brig was within a mile of us she hoisted British colours, and fired a gun for us to heave-to, which we of course at once did, displaying our ensign at the mizen-peak at the same time. The ladies and gentlemen in the cuddy, learning from the stewards what was happening, at once turned out to do honour to the occasion, so that when, a few minutes later, the Barracouta, with all her studding-sails collapsing and coming in together, rounded-to within biscuit-toss of our weather quarter, our poop must have presented quite an animated appearance.

As the beautiful craft swept gracefully yet with a rush up into the wind, a figure that I recognised with delight as that of Young, our beloved first luff, sprang on to the hammock-rail with a speaking-trumpet in his hand. The next moment he had raised it to his lips, and was hailing—

“Ho, the ship ahoy! What ship is that?”

“The Bangalore, eighty-two days out from Calcutta, bound to London; and plundered two days ago by a pirate. I hope you are none the worse for your boat adventure, Mr Young, in the attack upon that same pirate last week? I have news and to spare for you, so shall I lower a boat, or will you? If you can conveniently do so it will perhaps be better, for I am rather short-handed,” I replied.

I saw Young staring at me with all his eyes; evidently he had not as yet recognised me in the longshore rig with which I had been fitted by the kindness of one of the cuddy passengers.

He raised the trumpet to his lips, and began—

“Who in the name of —?” when I saw little Freddy Pierrepoint scramble up alongside him excitedly and utterly regardless of etiquette, and say something eagerly. Young lowered the trumpet, stared hard at me, raised it again, and roared through it—

“Can it be possible that you are Dugdale—the Harry Dugdale that we have all been mourning as lost?”

“Ay, ay, Mr Young, it is myself, sure enough, alive and well, I am thankful to say; and more glad than I can express to see the dear old Barracouta again!”

As I uttered these words the watch on deck gave a ringing cheer, which thrilled me to the heart, for it told me better than words how sincerely attached to me the honest fellows were, and how delighted to see me again; and although the outburst was by no means in accordance with strict discipline, Young—thoroughly good fellow that he was—never checked them, but, as their voices died away, simply waved his trumpet, and shouted, “I will come on board you!” and disappeared behind the brig’s high bulwarks.

A short pause now ensued, during which I suspected that the first luff was conferring with Captain Stopford, the Barracouta’s people gazing curiously at us meanwhile through the brig’s open ports; and then the sound of the boatswain’s pipe came floating to us from the brig across the tumbling waters, and we heard his gruff voice bellowing—“Gigs away!”

The call was followed by a slight, muffled scurrying of feet, and the gig’s crew were seen leaping, light as figures of india-rubber, into the elegantly-moulded craft that hung at the brig’s davits, the falls were eased away, and in a moment the boat, light as a bubble, was dancing upon the sparkling blue tumble at the brig’s lee gangway. Then the first lieutenant and Freddy Pierrepoint appeared at the head of the side-ladder, the latter descending first and the lieutenant instantly following, the boat’s bow was borne off from the ship’s side, the oars dropped with a clean cut into the water, the men bent their backs as they gave way, and the dancing craft came bounding over the long surges towards us.

Meanwhile, on board the Bangalore I had caused the side-ladder to be shipped and the ropes rove in readiness for the lieutenant’s arrival; and in a few minutes he and Freddy were standing on the Indiaman’s broad deck and greeting me with a hand grip the heartiness of which there was no mistaking.

I told my story as briefly as possible, and at its conclusion Young said—

“Well, we must of course let you have a few men; but it will be a few only that we shall be able to spare, for I am sorry to say that our loss was terribly heavy in our boat attack upon your friend Mendouca, no less than eight killed and twenty-three wounded, only four of the latter having as yet been able to return to duty. You must, however, lay your case before Captain Stopford—who, by the way, hopes you will take breakfast with him—and I dare say that when he learns how very short-handed you are, he will strain a point to spare you a dozen men to take the ship to Sierra Leone. And now, suppose you introduce us to your passengers, who, judging from what I have been able to see of them from here, appear to be a very pleasant lot of people.”

Upon this hint I led the way to the poop, where by this time nearly the entire cuddy party had assembled, and introduced my companions in due form, and in a few minutes Young and Freddy were each surrounded by a large party, Master Freddy’s, I noticed, being mainly composed of the younger members of the gentler sex, who petted and made much of the juvenile warrior, to that young gentleman’s entire content.

In due time I proceeded on board my old ship; and on reaching the deck was fully repaid for all that I had gone through by the heartiness of the greeting that I received from my shipmates, one and all of whom seemed sincerely delighted at finding that I was still in the land of the living. For, as fate would have it, the Barracouta had fallen in with the Felicidad with the French schooner Mouette in company as a prize—the latter vessel having pursued the Felicidad out of the creek, only to find that she had caught a Tartar, which captured her after a short but determined struggle—and from her the Barracouta’s people had learned all particulars of our somewhat disastrous enterprise, including the news that I was missing, and was believed to have been killed in the unsuccessful attack upon the schooner in the creek.

Captain Stopford was kindness itself in his reception of me, commiserating with me upon all the hardships of my late adventure, and heartily congratulating me upon my escape from the Francesca, and the saving of the Indiaman, the latter of which, he assured me, he would take care to report in the proper quarter in such a way as should further my advancement in the service. With regard to supplying me with men, he promised to do the best that he could; and at Young’s suggestion—he being one of the rather large party that the captain had invited to meet me at breakfast—it was arranged that I should have a dozen; and as he fully agreed with me that there was just a chance that the Francesca, might be at no great distance to the northward, still actively pursuing her search for us, it was further arranged that I should crowd sail for Sierra Leone, in the hope of turning the tables upon Mendouca by overtaking him, in which case we were to do our best to detain him until the arrival of the Barracouta upon the scene, it being the captain’s plan to follow us at a distance of some fifteen or twenty miles. As an incentive to expedition—and no doubt, incidentally, to the promotion of the capture of the Francesca—the captain informed me that if we managed to accomplish a quick run to Sierra Leone, I should probably be in time to rejoin the Felicidad, which schooner was then at that port, refitting after her engagement with the Mouette. I was very grieved to learn that poor Ryan, although not nearly so severely wounded as I had believed, was lying in the hospital at Sierra Leone, prostrate with a bad attack of fever, from which, when the Barracouta left, it was greatly feared that he would not recover.

As soon as breakfast was over the crew were mustered, and Young picked out for me twelve good, stout men, who were ordered to pass their bags down into the boat and go on board the Bangalore with me; and, this most welcome addition to our crew having been received, I made sail, packing upon the good ship every rag that would draw, the Barracouta remaining hove-to until we had placed a sufficient distance between her and ourselves. But although we carried on day and night—the Indiaman proving such a flyer that the Barracouta’s people had their hands full to keep us in sight—nothing more was seen of the Francesca, and we were at length driven to the conclusion that, failing to find us, Mendouca had resumed his voyage at a much earlier period than we had anticipated. We reached Sierra Leone on the afternoon of the third day after falling in with the Barracouta; and there I left the Indiaman, which, after a detention of four days, sailed for England with a full complement, made up of the officers and men of a large barque that had been wrecked upon the coast only a week or two before, supplemented by a few out of the many white seamen who had been left behind in hospital when their ships were ready to sail for home, and who, contrary to the general rule, had recovered from, instead of succumbing to, the deadly malaria of the coast.

As for me, I found that I had arrived most opportunely, so far as the Felicidad was concerned, for the repairs to that small hooker were completed, as it happened, on the very day of our arrival; and Captain Stopford very generously offered me the command of her, asserting that my conduct with regard to the Indiaman had conclusively demonstrated my entire fitness for the post, and that if I chose to accept it he should have no anxiety whatever, either on the score of my courage or my discretion. Ryan, poor fellow, was, contrary to expectation, still alive, and hopes were now entertained that he might ultimately recover; but he was still so weak that when I went to the hospital to see him, he was so overcome with emotion at the sight of me—although he had been carefully prepared for the meeting—that he burst into tears and was seized with a fit of hysterical sobbing so violent that I had to retire again at once without exchanging a word with him; and, to my very deep regret, I had not another opportunity to see him. I grieve to say that although, when I paid him that unfortunate visit, he appeared to be making slow but sure progress toward recovery, he suffered a relapse a few days afterwards, from which he never rallied; and his ashes now repose, with those of many another gallant spirit, in the spot that is known throughout the world as “The White Man’s Grave.”

The repairs to the Felicidad being completed, her final preparations for sea were vigorously pushed forward, and on the third day after our arrival, having first visited the Bangalore and bade farewell to her passengers—each and every one of whom insisted that he (or she) owed his (or her) life to me, and that henceforward I must regard myself as a dearly cherished friend—I joined the little hooker as her commander, and sailed the same afternoon for the Congo; my especial mission being to test the truth, or otherwise, of Mendouca’s statement respecting the fate of the Sapphire’s boats’ crews, and—in the event of its being true—to attempt the rescue of any of the unfortunate people who might perchance be still alive.

We made the high land to the northward of the river mouth about midnight, after a rather long and uneventful passage; and, the wind being light, and the river current strong, even at a considerable distance from the entrance, we then reached in toward the land, and anchored in fourteen fathoms, at about as many miles from the shore, where we remained, rolling and tumbling about on the heavy swell, until the sea-breeze set in, about eight o’clock the next morning. We then hove up our mud-hook, and ran in, anchoring in Banana Creek, opposite Lobo’s factory, about six bells in the forenoon. There was only one other vessel in the creek at the time, a Portuguese brig; and her build and general appearance so unmistakably proclaimed her honest, that I never gave her a second thought. Besides, I had a special mission to accomplish—namely, the discovery and deliverance, if possible, of between thirty and forty of my own countrymen, languishing in a bitter captivity, and in daily, if not hourly, peril of death by torture as cruel and protracted as the fiendish malignity of merciless savages can possibly devise.

Now, I was as well equipped for such an expedition as I could possibly wish, save in one particular. I had a smart, light-draught vessel, capable of “going anywhere where a duck can swim,” as we say at sea; we were well armed, had plenty of ammunition, mustered a crew of twenty-six prime seamen, the pick of the Barracouta’s crew—men who would go anywhere, and face anything—we carried an ample supply of blankets, beads, brass wire, old muskets, and tawdry finery of various descriptions, priceless in the eyes of savages, for the purpose of peaceable ransom, if such could be accomplished; but we lacked an interpreter, a man acquainted with the barbaric language of the up-river natives, through whom we should be able to communicate with them and carry on the necessary negotiations. And such a man it was now my first duty and anxiety to secure. I had given this matter a great deal of careful consideration during our passage, and had at length determined upon the course of action that seemed to promise the most successful results; and it was in accordance with this determination that I anchored in Banana Creek instead of proceeding forthwith up the river to the spot named by Mendouca as the scene of the captivity of the Sapphire’s boats’ crews.

I entered the river without any disguise of any sort, showing British colours and the man-o’-war’s pennant; and, as I had expected, our old friend Lobo soon came alongside in his gig, with his usual stereotyped smiles and bows, and offers to supply us with anything and everything that we might happen to want. I took care to be below when he boarded us; and, in accordance with previous arrangements, Gowland, who met the fellow upon his arrival, proposed that he should go down into the cabin and see me personally upon the business of his visit. He at once assented, willingly, Gowland following him down, and when the two had entered, the sentry at the cabin-door closed it after them.

“Ah, good-morning, sar,” exclaimed Lobo to me, as he entered. “Glad to see you back in the river, sar! I hope dat de capitan and officers of de beautiful Barracouta are all well? Ah, gentlemen, dat was a ver’ fine bit of vork, dat attack of yours upon Chango Creek; ver’ fine and ver’ successful. I ’ave alvays been proud of my share in dat exploit. But, gentlemen, you mus’ please never so much as vhisper dat I, Joaquin Miguel Lobo, had anything to do vid it. My vord, if you did, de rascal slavers vould cut my t’roat for me, and de man-o’-war gentlemen vould lose a fait’ful ally.”

“No doubt, Señor Lobo,” agreed I genially. “But, never fear, you are perfectly safe from betrayal to the slavers, so far as we are concerned; you shall find us as faithful to you as you have been to us. But sit down, man, and let me offer you a glass of wine.”

With many bows and wreathed smiles, and deprecating elevations of the shoulders, Lobo took the seat to which I pointed him, and I touched a bell.

“Steward, put the wine and some glasses on the table, will you; and also a box of cigars that you will find on the shelf in my cabin.”

The wine and cigars were brought; we helped ourselves; and I began—

“I am very much obliged to you for coming aboard, Señor Lobo, for you are the very man that I most desired to see. I require some assistance of a rather peculiar kind, and I believe that you, above all others, are the one who can best help me to it.”

Lobo bowed and smiled, sipped his wine, and assured us that he was in all things our very obedient, humble servant, and that nothing pleased him so much as to be of assistance to the man-o’-war gentlemen, who honoured the river by paying it an occasional visit. At the same time—he pointed out—his friendly relations with those same man-o’-war gentlemen, and the services that he had been so glad to render them from time to time were, if not well known, at least very strongly suspected by the slavers and slave-dealing fraternity generally who used the Congo for their nefarious purposes; and in incurring this suspicion he also incurred a very serious risk, both to property and life, for which he considered that he was justly entitled to be remunerated on a generous scale.

“Most assuredly,” I agreed. “And I may tell you at once, Señor Lobo, that I am prepared to reward you very munificently for the efficient and faithful performance of the service that I require of you; I am prepared, in fact, to offer you no less a reward than your life. Ah, you turn pale, I see; and well you may when I inform you that your true character is by this time known to probably every British commander on the coast; you are known as a bare-faced traitor to the cause that you have pretended so zealously to serve, and I don’t mind mentioning to you, in confidence, that, if this ship had happened to be the Barracouta instead of the Felicidad you would now in all probability have been dangling from one of that ship’s yard-arms, as a wholesome warning and example to all betrayers— Nay, keep your seat, man; there is a sentry outside the door, and you are a prisoner beyond all possibility of escape. But you have no cause for fear on that account, provided that you can prevail upon yourself to act honestly for once. I require a certain service from you, and I promise you that if you render that service faithfully I will set you free at the termination of the adventure, with full liberty to seek safety by flight elsewhere. But until the adventure of which I speak is brought to a favourable conclusion, you are my prisoner; and I give you my word of honour that upon the first attempt to escape which you may be ill-advised enough to make, I will put you in irons and chain you to the deck. If, therefore, you are wise, you will submit to your present predicament with a good grace, rather than tempt a worse one. And now, tell me everything you know with regard to the fate of the crews of the Sapphire’s boats.”

“The Sapphire’s boats?” ejaculated the now thoroughly terrified wretch. “I swear to Gad, sar, dat I had not’ing to do vid dat! I know not’ing about dem; not’ing whatever! But I can tell you de name of de man who had; ay, and I can put him into your power, if you like; he is a villain, and it would be only doing a good action to betray him to justice. I vill do it, too, if you vill release me at vonce; I vill tell you all about him, vhere he is to be found vhen he visits de river, de name of his cheep, and—and—all dat is necessairey for you to know.”

“Yes; no doubt,” I answered. “But you will have to purchase your release in some other way, señor; unfortunately for you we know all about Don Fernando de Mendouca, captain of the brigantine Francesca and have every confidence in our ability to get hold of him without your assistance. And I may tell you that, up to the present, no charge has been made against you in connection with the disappearance of the Sapphire’s boats; you have therefore nothing to fear from us just now on that score. Now, will you tell us what you know about those unfortunate missing men?”

“Yes; yes, I vill, gentlemen; I vill tell you all dat I know; but it is not much,” answered Lobo, with evident relief. “I only know dat de scoundrel Mendouca managed to trap de two boats in some vay—how, I know not—and dat he gave dem de choice of being massacred, dere and den, or of surrendering and having dheir lives spared. And vhen dhey had surrendered he exchanged dhem to Matadi for slaves—t’ree slaves for every white man—so dat Matadi might have plenty of victims—white victims dhey consider very good—for de annual—de annual—what you call it, eh? festa.”

“Festival, I suppose you mean,” said I, with an involuntary shudder. “And, pray, Señor Lobo, do you happen to know the date of this festival?”

“No, I cannot say dat I do; but I t’ink about one week from now,” was the answer.

“Then, thank God, we are still in time!” I ejaculated. “Now, Señor Lobo, I presume you are acquainted with this chief, Matadi, are you not? You have probably had dealings with him, eh? Do not be afraid to give a truthful answer, because by so doing you cannot betray anything about yourself that we do not know already. We are fully aware, for instance, that you are a slave-dealer—among other things—and I have very little doubt that, if I chose to land a party, we should find a choice lot of negroes in that barracoon of yours in the bush, yonder—you look surprised, but, you see, I know all about you; so your best plan will be to answer my questions truthfully and unreservedly. Now, as to this Matadi, who is he, and what is he?”

“Sair,” said Lobo, in great perturbation, “I see dat you know all about me, so I will be perfectly open and frank wid you. I do know Matadi. He is a very powerful chief, de head of a tribe numbering quite t’ree t’ousand warriors; and his chief town is far up de river—four, five days’ journey in a canoe. It lies on de sout’ bank of de river ’bout eight miles below de first—what you call?—where de water runs very furious over de rocks, boiling like—like de water in a pot.”

“Ah, rapids, you mean, I suppose?” suggested I.

“Yes, yes; rapids; dat is de word,” agreed Lobo. “His town is near de first rapids; and he is very powerful, very dangerous, very fierce. What do you want wid him, señor?”

“I want those white men that he holds in captivity; and I mean to have them, by fair means or foul!” said I. “I will buy them of him, if he is willing to part with them in that way; and if not, I intend to take them from him by force, for have them I must and will And I require your assistance in this matter, señor, as an interpreter, through whom I can treat with the fellow and carry on the necessary negotiations; and if those negotiations are successful, you will be released on our return here, and allowed thirty days to complete your arrangements for removal elsewhere. But if we fail you will be retained as a prisoner, and taken to Sierra Leone, to be dealt with as your past treacheries deserve. Now, do you quite understand the position?”

“Yes, señor, I understand,” answered Lobo, in great distress. “But, oh, gentlemen, I beg, I pray you, do not take me away from my business; it will all go wrong widout me, and I shall lose hundreds, t’ousands of dollars, all my property will be gone before I can get back! I shall be ruin’!”

“I am sorry to hear that,” I remarked; “but even supposing that matters go as badly with you as you seem to fear, that will be better than hanging, will it not? And, you see, I must have somebody with me, as interpreter, whose interest it will be that I shall be successful in my mission; and I know of no one whose interests can be made more completely identical with my own than yourself, señor. Therefore I shall take you with me, regardless of consequences. But if you have any assistants ashore to whom you would like to send a very brief message to the effect that you are taking a little business-trip up the river with me for a few days, and that they must do the best they can for you during your absence, I have no objection to your sending it. Otherwise, I will dismiss your boat; for we must not miss this fine sea-breeze, which ought to take us a good many miles up-stream before it dies away.”

“Well, gentlemen, if you are quite determined, I must submit,” answered Lobo, with a very disconsolate air. “But I protest against being thus carried off against my will; I protest against it as a—an—a—what do you call him?—yes, an outrage—an outrage, gentlemen; and the Portuguese Government will inquire into the matter.”

“All right,” said I cheerfully; “there can be no objection to that, so far as we are concerned. And now that we have arranged this little matter, shall I dismiss your boat?”

“No, no; not yet, not yet,” hastily answered Lobo. “Give me one littl’ piece of paper, if you please, and I will write a few words to Diego, my manager, telling him what to do in my absence.”

“No,” said I determinedly, “I can permit no written messages; a verbal one, if you like, but nothing more.”

“Ver’ well,” answered Lobo resignedly. “Then I will go up and speak to my boatmen.”

“No need for that,” said I. “Tell us which of your men you wish to see, and I will send for him to come here.”

Poor Lobo made a gesture of impatience, but saw that I had quite determined to afford him no shadow of an opportunity to make any secret communication whatever; so he submitted to the inevitable, and sent for one of his men, to whom he delivered such a message as I suggested, adding a request that a small supply of clothing might be sent off to him at once. This ended the matter, so far as the obtaining of an efficient interpreter was concerned; the clothes were brought off; and shortly after noon we weighed and, with a brisk breeze, stood out of the creek on our way up the river.

For the first twelve miles or so our course was the same as that which we had followed in our memorable expedition to attack Chango Creek; the river being, up to that point, about three miles wide, with a fine deep channel averaging perhaps a quarter of that width up as far as abreast the southern extremity of Monpanga island, where this deep channel terminates, and the average depth of the entire stream dwindles to about six fathoms for the next fourteen miles, the channel at the same time narrowing down to a width varying from about two miles to less than half-a-mile in some parts, notably at the spot where it begins to thread its devious way among the islands that cumber the stream for a length of fully thirty miles, at a distance of about twenty-eight miles from Shark Point.

By carrying a press of sail, and hugging the northern bank, keeping as close to the shore as our little draught of water would permit, thus to a great extent cheating the current, we contrived to get as far as the spot where the above-mentioned chain of islands commences; and there, the wind failing us toward sunset, we came to an anchor close to the southern shore, on a sand-bank, in three fathoms, under the lee of a large island that sheltered us from the rush of the main current; and there we remained all night, a strict anchor-watch of course being kept not only to see that the schooner did not drive from her berth, but also to guard against possible attack on the part of the natives. In this spot, to my inexpressible chagrin, we were compelled to spend the following two days, the wind blowing down the river, when it blew at all, a little variety being infused into the weather by the outburst of a most terrific thunderstorm which brought with it a perfect hurricane of wind and a deluge of rain; after which we again got a fair wind and were able to pursue our way for a time, getting ashore occasionally upon unsuspected sand-banks, but always contriving to heave off again, undamaged, thanks to the fact that we were proceeding up-stream against the current instead of down-stream with it. And—not to dwell unduly upon incidents that were exciting enough to us, although the recital of them would prove of but little interest to the reader—in this way we contrived to creep up the river the hundred and twelve miles or so that were necessary to bring us to Matadi’s town—having passed, and with some difficulty avoided, two whirlpools on the way, reaching our destination about two bells in the afternoon watch on the fifth day after leaving Banana Creek.

Chapter Twenty.

Success. The Fate of the Pirate Slaver.

Matadi’s “town” was situate, as Lobo had informed us, on the south bank of the stream, on the sloping side of a hill that rose rather steeply from the water’s edge; the scenery of this part of the river being totally different from that of the mouth; the change occurring gradually, but becoming quite decided about the point where the chain of islands is left behind on the traveller’s upward way. For whereas on the lower reaches of the Congo—that is to say, for the first forty miles or so from its mouth—the banks of the river are low and flat, and to a great extent mangrove-lined, beyond this point their tendency is to become higher and steeper, in some places, indeed, quite precipitous, until where we now were the ground sloped up from the river margin to a height of fully four hundred feet, for the most part densely covered with bush interspersed here and there with masses of noble forest trees.

Matadi’s town was situate, as I have said, upon the sloping hillside that constituted the south bank of the river, and consisted of some four or five hundred buildings arranged with tolerable regularity on either side of two broad streets or roads that crossed each other at right angles, their point of intersection being a spacious square, in the centre of which stood a circular structure with a high-peaked, pointed roof of thatch, that Lobo informed me was the fetish-house. I was greatly surprised at the neatness and skill displayed in the construction of the buildings in this important town; for while they were insignificant in size, as compared with the dwellings of a civilised race, being about the size of a small two-roomed cottage, such as may be found in almost any rural district in England, they were very considerably larger and more carefully and substantially-built than the huts that we had noticed in King Plenty’s town, when we made our disastrous attack upon Mendouca and his consorts. There was even a certain attempt at ornamentation discernible in the larger structures, many of which had what I believe is called in England a barge-board, elaborately carved, under the projecting eaves of the roof that formed the verandah, the wooden posts that supported those same projecting eaves being also boldly sculptured. These particulars I noted through my telescope on rounding the bend of the river just beyond the town; and I could not help feeling that a community of savages intellectual enough to find pleasure in the adornment of their houses would be likely to prove very difficult to deal with unless I could contrive to make their inclination coincide with my own wishes.

Our appearance—the Felicidad being probably the first ship that had ever penetrated so far up the river—created a profound sensation in the town, the inhabitants rushing in and out of their dwellings and about the streets for all the world like an alarmed colony of ants, and finally congregating along the margin of the river to the extent of fully one thousand, most of them being men, every one of whom, so far as I could make out, was armed; the weapons being spears, bows and arrows, and clubs with heavy knobs on the end. They seemed to be a fine, powerful race, evidently accustomed to warfare, if one might judge by the readiness with which, at the command of an immensely stout and powerful man—whom Lobo declared to be none other than Matadi himself—they formed themselves up into compact and orderly squadrons, and I thought, ruefully, that if it became necessary to resort to forcible measures for the release of our countrymen, we were likely to have a pretty bad time.

To attempt to open communications with a thousand armed savages, whose evident purpose in mustering on the river bank immediately in front of their town was to resolutely oppose any attempt at landing on our part, was a rather delicate operation; still, it had to be done, and it was worse than useless to exhibit any sign of trepidation or hesitation. I therefore ordered the gig to be lowered, and with four men, fully armed, at the oars, and Lobo and myself in the stern-sheets, pushed off for the shore. This bold action on our part created a profound sensation upon the savages massed upon the shore, the boat being no sooner under way than they raised their spears above their heads, shook them furiously until the blades clashed upon each other with the sound of a falling torrent of water, and emitted a blood-curdling yell that almost drove poor Lobo out of his senses. We had, however—at Lobo’s suggestion—provided ourselves with palm branches, cut on the night before at our previous anchorage, and now, seizing one of these, the Portuguese scrambled forward into the eyes of the boat and stood there, waving the branch violently and pointing it toward the savages. This demonstration had the effect of quelling the tumult, the blacks subsiding into quietude almost instantly, at the command of Matadi; but it was evident that they had no intention of permitting us to land, for at a second command from the chief they advanced, as steadily as a band of civilised troops, across the short intervening space of greensward between themselves and the water’s edge, at which they halted, forming up three deep in a long, compact line along the river margin.

We continued to pull shoreward until we were within easy speaking distance; when the boat’s bows were turned up-stream, and while the men continued to paddle gently ahead, using just sufficient strength to enable the boat to stem the current and maintain her position abreast the centre of the line of savages, Lobo opened the palaver by informing Matadi that we were there by command of the Great White Queen to procure the release of the white men held by him as prisoners, and that we were fully prepared to pay a handsome ransom for them; it was only for Matadi to name his price, and it should be cheerfully paid.

To this the chief replied by inquiring what white men we referred to; he knew nothing about white men, and indeed had never seen any except ourselves. And he strongly advised us to lose no time in making our way back down the river again, as his soldiers were very angry at our presumption in invading his territory, and he could not answer for it that he would be able to restrain them should they take into their heads to actively resent our intrusion by attacking the ship.