At this point of his narrative my father’s voice suddenly broke, and with a wail of uncontrollable anguish and an exclamation of “Heaven, have mercy upon me and heal my broken heart!” he flung his arms out upon the cabin table, laid his head upon them, and sobbed aloud.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The Foundering of the “Dolphin”
I allowed the first paroxysm of my father’s grief to wear itself out unchecked and uninterrupted; but when he had somewhat recovered his calmness I laid my hand upon his shoulder and said:
“Father, listen to me. You have told me your whole story; I have listened to every word of it most attentively; and, though I admit that it is a singular enough history, you have not yet mentioned one single circumstance directly inculpating my mother. For my part I believe she was innocent of the duplicity you charged her with, and that she only spoke the truth when she asserted that her conduct admitted of a simple and easy explanation.”
“Do you really believe that, Leo, on your honour as a gentleman?” demanded my father eagerly.
“I believe it, sir, as implicitly as I do the fact of my own existence.”
“Well,” said my father, sighing heavily, “there have been times when I have felt almost disposed to do so too; what a blessed relief it would be to me if I could believe it altogether! It is these distracting doubts which are wearing both my life and my reason away, and it was those same doubts which prevented my enjoying your company when you were a child, and almost succeeded in destroying my natural affection for you; it was those doubts which caused me to neglect you as I did when you were most in need of a parent’s love and care; and it was these same doubts again which—forgive me for saying it, Leo—caused me almost to rejoice when I first contemplated the possibility of your being killed in the mutiny.”
“Well,” said I, “that is a strange confession for a father to make to his own son—a strange feeling for a parent to entertain toward his own offspring. How do you account for it, sir?”
“I will tell you, Leo,” said my father. “Sit down, my son, and do not look at me so coldly; if you had passed through as many years of mental anguish as I have endured, you would wonder, not so much that my ideas have been warped and distorted, as that my reason has not altogether given way beneath the strain. For, Leo, I want you to understand that I loved your mother; I loved her!” he repeated fiercely, with a strange maniacal gleam flashing in his eyes. Then, after pausing for a moment and recovering control of himself by a powerful effort, he continued:
“What was the question?—oh, yes, I remember! In the first place, you were, as a child, strikingly like your mother—you are so even now, although the likeness is no longer so marked as it was. Thus you were a constant reminder to me of one who had first raised me to the highest pinnacle of human bliss only to hurl me thence into the lowest depths of grief and humiliation. Then your wonderful physical resemblance to your mother caused me to dread that you would also inherit her character, and that you would grow up deceitful and untrustworthy. Connect those two feelings with the unbalanced state of my mind and you will easily understand the rest.
“This miserable state of things remained with me up to the time of receiving the letter penned by you after your escape from La Guayra; and you will not be surprised to learn that, after so many years of mental anguish, as acute at the end as it was at the beginning, your letter found me with my health undermined, my reason tottering, and myself in hourly danger of dropping into a suicide’s grave. That letter, Leo, aroused me; it dispelled the unhealthy vapours from my mind, caused me to see circumstances in a totally different light from that in which I had regarded them before, and, finally, impelled me to take ship and come out here to join you; as the idea suddenly took hold upon me that, with the aid of your young, healthy, vigorous, common-sense intellect, the question which has tormented me all these years might after all be definitely settled one way or the other. And now you have not only the bitter secret of my life, Leo, but the explanation of my being on board the Indiaman.”
I warmly grasped the hand which my father extended to me across the table, and said:
“I believe, father, you have done well to come out here; indeed I might almost venture to say that your decision to do so seems providential, as perhaps you too will think, when I tell you that a certain Giuseppe Merlani, an Italian, is a notorious character in these regions. Not that I think it probable he can be the individual who has caused you all your trouble, for he is a pirate; and I can scarcely realise the possibility of anyone who has ever enjoyed my poor mother’s acquaintance degenerating into such a character as that of pirate. But let that be as it may, now that we are together, and have no longer any secrets from each other, we can talk the whole affair unreservedly over together; and, depend upon it, father, we shall eventually succeed in satisfactorily demonstrating my mother’s truthfulness and the groundlessness of your suspicions that you held but a subordinate place in her affection.”
“May mercy grant it, Leo!” fervently ejaculated my father. We then sat down and more composedly talked the whole affair over again, I asking questions on such points as seemed to need further explanation, and my father replying to them, until I thought I had gained all the information it was possible for him to give. I was especially particular in my questions respecting the man Merlani; and though my father was unable to tell me much about him, the little I learned sufficed me to arrive at the conclusion that our friend the hero of the Conconil lagoons might, after all, turn out to be the same individual. The only point which puzzled me was, if such were really the case, in what possible way could such a man have ever been associated with my mother!
The weather continued fine; and on the afternoon of the day following our long conversation my little fleet sailed into Port Royal harbour, and anchored not far from the Mars.
On going on board the flag-ship to report myself, I learned that the admiral had left for the Penn nearly a couple of hours before; whilst chatting with Captain Ayres, however, the signal midshipman belonging to the Mars reported a signal from the Penn, which turned out to be my number; and, on this being answered by the Dolphin, it was followed by an invitation to me to join my old friend at dinner, he having evidently noticed our arrival and recognised the schooner on his way home.
I, of course, lost no time in obeying the signal; and, thinking I might venture upon the liberty, took my father with me. We were both received with the utmost cordiality, to which, in my own case, was added many expressions of warm approval of my conduct. I then learned that, had I arrived a day earlier, I should have had an opportunity of once more meeting my old friend Courtenay, who had sailed that morning after having brought in a large French merchantman with a valuable cargo, which he had been lucky enough to fall in with and capture. This mention of Courtenay afforded me a very good opportunity to ask if anything further had been seen or heard of Merlani and his schooner; in reply to which the admiral assured me that, though my gallant young shipmate had most assiduously sought the pirate, nothing further had been seen of him; and it was thought that, disheartened by the destruction of his stronghold, he had left that part of the world altogether.
During the course of the evening the admiral informed me that my return had happened most opportunely, and inquired of me how long it would be before I could sail again, as he wished me to proceed to sea with all possible despatch on an important mission. I replied that if the cruise was to be only a short one, say of a fortnight or so, I could go to sea again next morning; but if it was likely to be protracted beyond that date I should wish to replenish my stock of provisions and water before leaving port. Upon that he ordered me to haul in alongside the dockyard wharf next morning, and if my rigging needed overhauling to see to it at once, as he should endeavour to get me off again in three days at the latest.
My father and I slept at the Penn that night; and next morning, on my way down to the schooner, I established him in comfortable quarters, recommended by the admiral, on the
southernmost spur of Long Mountain, where, in addition to a pure and healthy atmosphere, he would have the advantage of a magnificent view of the harbour and sea to the southward, as well as a long range of superb tropical landscape, upon which to exercise the powers of his brush during my absence.
In the course of the morning, after the Dolphin had been hauled in alongside the wharf and Fidd had set all hands to work overhauling the rigging, I learned from the admiral that it was his intention to send me down on the Venezuelan coast to cruise, in conjunction with my former acquaintance the Dido, on the lookout for a Spanish treasure-ship which, it was rumoured, was about to sail from Cartagena with important despatches. Of such consequence was the capture of this ship considered that I was frankly told a couple of frigates would have been sent to look after her, had such been available; unfortunately, however, there were none in harbour when the intelligence had been received, four days before; the Dido, therefore, being the only ship then at liberty, had been despatched forthwith, and I was now to follow her, so that should the Spaniards slip through the hands of one, the other might have a chance to pick her up.
By the afternoon of the third day the Dolphin was once more ready for sea; and on reporting this to the admiral I at once received my orders and was directed to be off at once. As I had quite expected this I had run up during the morning to see and say good-bye to my father; I had nothing, therefore, to detain me; and by sunset we were again at sea, clear of the shoals, and standing away to the southward with every stitch of canvas spread that the schooner could stagger under.
My instructions were to first of all proceed to the coast near Cartagena, endeavour, by any means which might happen to present themselves, to obtain information of the date of sailing of the treasure-ship; and, in the event of my being successful, to then cruise to the eastward on the lookout for the Dido, on falling in with which I was to communicate to Captain Venn such intelligence as I might have picked up, and thereafter act under his instructions. If I failed to meet with the Dido I was to do my best to capture the Spaniard unaided, or, if he appeared too heavy for me to tackle single-handed, to follow him and keep him in sight until I could obtain assistance.
As the information to hand respecting this treasure-ship was very meagre, the admiral had urged me to use all expedition, in the first place, to reach the coast, and secure, if possible, some reliable intelligence; we, therefore, carried on all that night and the whole of the next day, being favoured with such a fine breeze, and making such good progress that twenty-four hours after sailing we had accomplished nearly half our distance.
Towards the close of the afternoon watch, however, the wind showed signs of failing us, which it did so rapidly that by two bells in the first dog-watch our canvas was thrashing itself threadbare against the masts, and the schooner was rolling gunwale under as she headed all round the compass. The atmosphere was hot and close almost to the point of suffocation; the sky, though perfectly cloudless, was thick and hazy; and the sun, as he drooped toward the horizon, glowed like a red-hot ball, whilst the vapour through which he was seen magnified him to at least three times his ordinary dimensions.
“What do you think of the weather, Mr Pottle?” said I to the quarter-master, as he left the boatswain and strolled aft from the waist, where the two had been jogging fore and aft together for the last half-hour, and regarding the sky every few minutes with somewhat ostentatious glances of anxiety.
“Well, sir, I hardly know what to make of it,” was the reply. “Mr Fidd and I have been comparing notes together; the boatswain has been a long time on this station, as perhaps you know, sir, and he says he doesn’t half like the looks of it; in fact, he remarked to me not five minutes ago that he wouldn’t be surprised to find that a hurricane is brewing. Have you looked at the glass lately, sir?”
“Not since noon,” said I; “it was pretty steady then, with a slight tendency to drop, it is true, but nothing to speak of. Let us see what it says now?”
We turned to the open sky-light and looked down through it. The barometer was, for convenience, hung in the sky-light so that it might be consulted with equal facility either from the deck or the cabin, and a single glance sufficed to show us that the mercury had fallen a full inch since the instrument had been set in the morning.
“Depend upon it, sir, Fidd is right, and we are in for a blow,” remarked Pottle. “And whether or no,” he continued, “it seems a pity to let the canvas beat itself to pieces for no good, as it is doing now. Shall we stow it, sir? There is no occasion to call all hands, the watch is strong enough to tackle the job.”
I looked round once more at the weather. There was not a breath of wind anywhere; the water, undisturbed by the faintest indication of a cat’s-paw, showed a surface like polished steel, and the swell was fast going down. The sun, just touching the horizon, was of a fierce fiery-red colour, and apparently swollen to abnormal dimensions; but save for the angry lurid glare of the luminary, and a very perceptible thickening of the atmosphere, there did not appear to be anything out of the common. Still I was not altogether satisfied, I had a feeling that something was about to happen. I took another look at the barometer. The mercury had visibly dropped still further in the few minutes which had elapsed since we last looked at it. “Yes,” said I, “clew up and furl everything, Mr Pottle, if you please. Let the watch set about the job at once, and see that they make a close furl of it whilst they are about it.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” was the answer. “Hands, shorten sail! Haul down and clew up, fore and aft; in with everything. Settle away your peak and main halliards, and let’s get this big mainsail snug under its cover the first thing. In main-topmast staysail. Let go the topgallant and topsail halliards, and clew up and furl the sails. Man the jib and staysail downhauls, let go the halliards, haul down. Lay out there, for’ard, and stow those jibs. Shall we send the royal and topgallant-yards down on deck, sir, and house the topmasts whilst we are about it?”
“We may as well,” I replied. “If it comes on to blow heavily the schooner will be all the easier if relieved of her top-hamper, and if it turns out to be a false alarm, why we can soon get her ataunto again, and there will be no harm done.”
The men, many of whom were thoroughly seasoned and experienced hands, had evidently been feeling anxious, and seemed glad enough to find their officers on the alert, if one might judge by the activity with which they went about their work, and the eagerness which they evinced to get it expeditiously performed. By the time that everything was made snug, the ship under bare poles, the guns secured with extra tackles and what not, it was pitch-dark—darker, indeed, if such were possible, than on the night of our adventure with the Indiaman. Still, there was no sign of a change, so when the steward summoned me to dinner I had no hesitation about following him, leaving the deck in charge of the gunner, with instructions to keep both eyes and ears open, and to call me the moment he had reason to believe the breeze was coming.
Dinner over, I again went on deck. Still no change, the air seemed thick, and hot as the breath of a furnace, but so still that the flame of a candle brought on deck burned straight up, save when the roll of the vessel caused it to waver to port or to starboard as the case might be.
“After all I don’t think it’s going to be anything, sir, unless, mayhap, another thunder-storm like the one we had,” commenced the gunner, as I stood looking round the horizon and vainly endeavouring to pierce the darkness which enveloped us.
“Hark!” I interrupted. “Do you hear that, Tompion?”
A low moaning sound had become audible in the atmosphere, away apparently on our starboard beam, and as we listened it gradually increased in intensity until it had become a rushing roar so loud as to almost drown the human voice, even when raised to its highest pitch.
“Ay, ay, sir; I hear it sure enough,” was the reply. “It’s coming now. Look out, sir I lay hold on anything you can put your hand upon. Hard a-starboard with your helm! Look out there, for’ard!”
Lou
der and louder grew the sound until it became absolutely deafening, and then with an awful overwhelming rush the gale burst upon us. It struck the schooner fair on her starboard, broadside, and stout and staunch as was the craft, she bowed beneath it until her larboard gunwale was buried.
“Good heavens!” I thought, “she is going over, she is going to turn the turtle with us!” as I felt the incline of the deck getting steeper and steeper beneath my feet, and I turned and clawed my way aft toward the wheel. On reaching it I found there was someone already there.
“Hard a-weather; over with it, man; hard over!” I yelled as I got hold of the spokes and vainly strove to move the helm.
“It is hard a-weather, sir,” shrieked Tompion’s voice in reply; “but we’re done for, sir; if she won’t pay off she’s bound to capsize.”
“Stick to her,” I shouted back as I threw my whole weight on the spokes to leeward, “I can feel a tremor in the wheel; she’s gathering head-way!”
Such was indeed the case, and after a few breathless seconds, during which it seemed that another inch of inclination would have sufficed to turn her bottom up, the schooner began to right, recovering herself at last with a jerk which filled the decks fore and aft with water, and flying away before the gale like a frightened steed.
The craft always steered like a little boat, and once fairly before the wind Tompion could easily keep her there single-handed, so, letting go the wheel and slanting myself backward against the force of the blast, which pressed upon my body like a solid wall, and demanded all my strength to prevent my being helplessly run forward, I made a snatch at the binnacle and peered into it. We were heading due east, which was a great relief to my mind, as I knew that we had plenty of sea-room in that direction, and could run for days if need were without bringing up against anything. A man came working his way aft, hauling himself along by the bulwarks, to relieve the wheel, and Tompion joined me under the partial shelter of the companion.
The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales Page 167
