The Unspeakable Gentleman

by John P. Marquand

  XV

  Brutus had evidently kept a slow match burning, for with a sudden flare arocket flashed into the wind. In the momentary glare of the light I couldsee my father, his lips pressed together more tightly than usual, butalertly courteous as ever, helping Mademoiselle over the side, and therewas Brutus grinning at me. Then the light died, and my father continuedgiving his directions.

  "Stand by Master Henry at the stern, Brutus. I shall stay here amidships.Now into the water when I give the word. Pray do not be alarmed,Mademoiselle. There is quite nothing to bother."

  A breaker crashed down on the beach ahead of us.

  "Now!" he shouted, and a moment later we were up to our waists in waterthat was stinging in its coldness.

  "Get aboard," said my father. "The oars, Brutus."

  Drenched and gasping, I pulled myself over the side just as we topped asecond wave. My father was beside me, as bland and unconcerned as ever.

  "You see, Mademoiselle," he said, "we are quite safe. The _Sea Tern_ isstanding in already. While Brutus is rowing, my son, we had better loadthe pistols."

  "Surely we are through with them," I said. The boat was tossing wildly,and Brutus was using all his strength and skill to keep it in the wind.

  "Still," said my father, kneeling on the grating beside me, "let us loadthem. Look, Henry, I think we got off in very good time."

  A knot of horsemen were galloping down the beach we had just quitted.

  "They must have taken the old wagon road," he said. "I had thought asmuch. It becomes almost tiresome, this running away."

  He reached for his cloak, placed it over Mademoiselle's shoulders, andseated himself in the stern beside her, apparently forgetful that he wasdrenched from head to foot.

  "You are not afraid, Mademoiselle?" he asked.

  "Afraid? Indeed not," I heard her reply, in a voice that was muffled bythe wind. "It is a luxury, Captain, which you have made me do withouttoo long."

  "Good," said my father, a motionless shadow beside her. "If you cannottrust yourself, there are plenty of other things to trust in--God, forexample, or the devil, if you prefer, or even in circumstances. Howuseless it is to be afraid when you remember these! Put the boat up alittle more, Brutus."

  And he sat silent, watching the lights of the ship towards which we weremoving with each tug that Brutus gave the oars. The ship also was drawingnearer. We could make out the spars under shortened sail, and soon wewere hailed from the deck. My father called back, and then there came thesnapping of canvass as they put up the helm and the ship lost way tossingin the wind.

  Wet and shivering, I watched her draw toward us. So this was the endafter all, and I was glad it was over--glad that I would soon be quietand alone with my thoughts. Could it have been only yesterday that I hadturned my horse and passed between the sagging posts that marked theentrance to his house? Was it only a day ago I had first seen him leaningback idly in his arm chair by the fire?

  My father leaned forward and thrust something into my hand.

  "A pistol, Henry," he said. "Put it inside your shirt. It will be asouvenir for you when you are home again."

  We could hear the waves slapping against the vessel's sides, and theorders from the deck above us. As I looked, it seemed a perilousdistance away.

  "Alongside, Brutus," said my father.

  Two lanterns cast a feeble glow on the sheets of water that rolled underus, shouldering our frail boat impatiently in their haste to move along.Brutus pulled an oar sharply. I saw a ladder dangling perilously from thebulwarks. I saw Brutus seize it, and then our boat, arrested andstationary, began to toss madly in ill-concerted effort. My father sprangup, balancing himself lightly and accurately against each sudden roll.

  "Now, Mademoiselle," he said, "we will get on deck. Brutus will carry youup quite safely. Hold the ladder, Henry, hold to it, or we may be in thewater again."

  His voice was still coldly precise, not raised even to a higher pitch.

  "You are chilled, my son?" he asked. "Never mind, we will have brandy ina moment."

  Strange how the years make the path seem smooth and mellow. As I lookback on it today, boarding the ship seems a light enough matter, though Iknow now that every moment we remained by the ladder, eternity wasstaring us in the face. Even now, when I look back on it, the water isnot what I see, nor Brutus grasping at the dangling rope, but rather myfather, standing watching the ladder, detached from the motion andexcitement around him, a passive onlooker to whom what might happenseemed a matter of small concern. Brutus, holding Mademoiselle on onearm, managed the ladder with ready adroitness, and I followed safely, butnot before I had been hurled against the side with a force that nearlydrove away my breath. I reached the deck to find a lantern thrust into myface, and stared into it, for the moment quite blinded.

  "It is the son," remarked a voice which I thought I remembered, and thenmy father followed me.

  "We are on board, Mr. Aiken," he called. "Never mind the boat. Get yourmen on the braces, or we'll blow on shore."

  "Yes, Captain Shelton," said the voice again. "You are on board, to besure, and very prettily done. I have been waiting for you all evening.

  "Indeed," said my father, in his old level tone, "and who thedevil are you?"

  "Mr. Sims, Captain," came the reply. "I managed to seize your ship beforeit left the river. It is hard, after so much trouble, but you are myprisoner, Captain Shelton."

  My eyes had become accustomed to the light. I looked about me to find wewere in the center of a group of men. Mr. Sims, small and watchful, hisface a pale yellow in the glow, was standing beside a tall man who heldthe lantern at arm's length. My father was facing him about two pacesdistant, his hand on the wet and bedraggled lapel of his coat, his glancevague and thoughtful, as though he was examining at his leisure somephenomenon of nature. Brutus, looking as unpleasant as I had ever seenhim, had half thrust Mademoiselle behind his back, and stood halfcrouching, his eye on my father's hand, his thick lips moving nervously.My father patted his coat gently and sighed.

  "I must admit," he said, "that this is surprisingly, indeed, quitedelightfully unexpected. I hope you have been quite comfortable."

  Mr. Sims permitted himself to smile.

  "I told them you were a man of sense," he said. "Is it not odd that onlyyou and I should have imagination and ingenuity? I knew you would seewhen the game is over. My compliments, Captain Shelton. You deserve tohave done better."

  "Of course," said my father, with a slow nod of assent, "I see when thegame is over."

  "I knew you would be reasonable," said Mr. Sims. "When it is finished,you and I stop playing, do we not? I am sorry we were not on the sameside, but I have been commissioned to take you, captain, for a little manwhom you and I both knew back in Paris. I have a dozen men aboard now,who will get us to the harbor. You are a prisoner of France, as you havedoubtless guessed. We shall all be trans-shipped to Mr. Jason Hill'sschooner, which has been waiting for you; and now you may go below."

  Still staring thoughtfully before him, my father rested his chin in thepalm of his hand.

  "I remember you now," he said. "And may I add it is a pleasure to havemet you? It is still a pleasure, much as I resent being taken on board aship I own."

  Mr. Sims bowed ironically.

  "And now, Captain, the document, if you please, unless you care to besearched."

  I thought my father had not heard, for he still looked quite blandly atthe lantern.

  "Would you mind telling me," he inquired, "what became of my crew? Youbribed them, I suppose."

  "There was only an anchor watch on deck when we came on board," said Mr.Sims. "We drove them below quite easily. The only man who gave us anytrouble was your master. We had to hit him over the head when he reachedthe deck."

  My father nodded slowly, seemed to lose his balance on the rolling deck,recovered himself, and set his feet a trifle wider apart.

  "I am sincerely sorry for you, Mr. Sims," he said.

  But if Mr. Sims eve
r asked why, it was in another life than ours. Irecall his sudden bewilderment, but I never have understood exactly howit happened. I remember Brutus' eyes on my father's hand, as it moved sogently over his coat. It must have been some gesture, smooth andimperceptible. For suddenly, my father's languor left him, suddenly hislips curled back in a smile devoid of humor, and he leapt at the lantern.He leapt, and at the same instant, as perfectly timed as though the wholematter had been carefully rehearsed, Brutus' great bulk had streakedacross the deck, crashing towards Mr. Sims like an unleashed fury. Thespeed of it, the unexpectedness, the sheer audacity, held the men aroundus motionless. Mr. Sims had barely time to level the pistol he washolding; but when he fired the deck was in darkness.

  "This way, Mademoiselle," came my father's voice, and I ran towards it."Hold them off, Brutus," he was calling. "Ha! It is you, my son."

  While he was speaking, he darted lightly aft, and I followed. Behind mecame the confused babel of struggling men. Someone was calling for alight, and someone was shrieking for help. A man with a lantern wasrunning forward. I tripped him and we fell together, and then I felt ahand on my collar. It dragged me to my feet. I struck at it blindly,while I felt myself being half pulled, half carried through the black.And then I heard my father's voice again, close beside me, as slow andcold as ever.

  "Close the door, Brutus," he said. "Listen to them. They must think weare still there."

  And then I knew what had happened. Brutus had dragged me with him, and wewere in a cabin. I heard my father fumbling about in the dark.

  "Ah," he said, "here is the powder. Load these pistols, Brutus. Gently,you fool! Do you want to kill me?"

  "You are hurt, captain," cried Mademoiselle.

  "It is not worth troubling over," said my father. "And you, my lady, youare quite all right? I fear I handled you roughly. I was afraid for amoment we might be inconvenienced."

  "And now," I said sarcastically, speaking into the darkness before me, "Isuppose our troubles are over."

  "I think so," replied my father. "Now that Brutus has thrown Mr. Simsoverboard. It might be different if he were still with us. He seemed tobe a determined and resourceful man. We are in the after cabin, Henry,quite the pleasantest one on the ship, and not ten paces from the wheel."

  Still out of breath, still confused, I tried to look, but could seenothing. I could only smell the pungent odor of tarred rope and staletobacco smoke. Having finished speaking, I could hear my father stillmoving about deliberately and moderately, seemingly well pleased at theplace where we had been driven.

  "Yes," he said again, "not ten paces from the wheel, and now we willfinish it."

  "Will you never be serious, sir?" I cried. "Do you suppose they are goingto let you take charge of the ship?"

  "I think so," replied my father. "But first, I must take a swallow frommy flask. There is nothing like a drink to rest one. Open the port by thedoor, Brutus."

  And I felt him groping his way past me.

  "Brutus," he said, "pass the flask to my son, and give me a pistol, andsteady, me with your arm--so. Ah, that is better--much better...."

  He fired, and the sound of his pistol in the closed room made my earsring, and then the ship lurched, so that I had nearly lost my balance. Wewere rolling heavily, in the trough of the sea, and outside the canvaswas snapping like a dozen small arms, and then I knew what had happened.My father had shot the man at the helm--shot him where he stood, so thatthe wheel had broken from his grasp, so that the ship was out ofcontrol, and the wind was blowing it on shore. Had he thought of the planwhile he was watching Mr. Sims in the light of the lantern? I halfsuspected that he had not, but I never knew.

  "Open the door, Brutus," said my father, and suddenly his voice wasraised to a shout that rose above the wind and the sails.

  "Keep clear of that wheel! If a single man touches it--do you hearme?--Stand clear!" And he fired again, and the _Sea Tern_ still lurchedin the trough of the sea.

  I ran to the door beside him. Ten paces away the light of the binnaclewas burning, and by it I saw two men lying huddled on the deck, and theship's wheel whirling backwards and forwards as the waves hit the rudder.

  "Get the wheel!" someone was shouting frantically. "Get the wheel! She'sbeing blown on the bar. Get the wheel!"

  "Stand clear, you dogs," called my father. "We're all going on the bartogether."

  "Brutus," he added, "go forward and open the forecastle, and tell mymen to clear the decks. If any of these fools notice you, kill them,but they won't, Brutus, they won't. Their minds are too much set on awatery grave."

  The ship heeled far over on her side as another gust of wind took her.Six men were clinging to the rail to keep their balance, staring at myfather with white faces, while sea after sea swept over the bulwarks.Three of them were edging toward us, when a wave caught them and sentthem sprawling almost to his feet.

  "Your sword, Henry," called my father. I ducked under his arm, andstepped out on the swaying deck, but they did not wait.

  "Ah," said my father, "here they come. Brutus was quicker than I couldhave hoped."

  "Aiken!" he shouted, "are you there? Put up that helm, or we'll bedrowned. Put up that helm and get your men on the braces. D'you hear me?Get some way on the ship."

  A hoarse voice bellowed out an order, and another answered.

  "Good," said my father. "It was a nearer thing than I expected. You canhear the breakers now. Give me your arm, my son. A lantern, Brutus."