The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales

by Robert E. Howard

  “That may or may not be,” he replied, as he raised his glass again, “but she’s the same ship, I’ll wager my life. Look at the rake of her—and the lubbers, they’ve left some of their bright metal showing amidships!”

  He indicated the deck-house by the bridge, where my glass showed me a shining spot in the cloak of black, for the sun fell upon the place, and reflected from it as from a mirror of gold. There was no longer any doubt: we were pursued by the nameless ship, and, if no help fell to us, I shuddered to think what the end might be.

  “What are you going to do, skipper?” asked Roderick, as gloom fell upon the three of us; and we stood together, each man afraid to tell the others all he thought.

  “What, am I going to do?” said he. “I’m going to see the boats cleared, and all hands in the stoke-hole that have the right there”; and then he sang out, “Stand by!” and the men swarmed up from below, and heard the order to clear the boats. They obeyed unquestioningly; but I doubt not that they were no less uneasy than we were; and, as these things cannot be concealed, the whisper was soon amongst them that the danger lay in the black steamer, which had been five days ago the ship of gold. Yet they went to the work with a right good will; and presently, when a canopy of our own smoke lay over us, and the yacht bounded forward under the generosity of the stoking, they set up a great cheer spontaneously, and were ready for anything. Yet I, myself, could not share their honest bravado. The black ship which had been but a mark on the horizon now showed her lines fully; there could be no two opinions of her speed, or of the way in which she gained upon us. Indeed, one could not look upon her advance without envy of her form, or of the terrifying manner in which she cut the seas. Churning the foam until it mounted its banks on each side of her great ram, she rode the Atlantic like a beautiful yacht, with no vapour of smoke to float above her; and not so much as a sign that any engines forced her onward with a velocity unknown, I believe, in the whole history of navigation. And so she came straight in our wake, and I knew that we should have little breathing time before we should hear the barking of her guns.

  The skipper did not like to see my idleness or this display of inactive indifference.

  “Don’t you think you might help?” he asked.

  “Help—what help can I give? You don’t suppose we can outsteam them, do you?”

  “That’s a child’s question; they’ll run us to a stand in four hours—any man with one eye should see that; but are you going down like a sheep, or will you give them a touch of your claws? I will, so help me Heaven, if there’s not another hand breathing!”

  “The skipper’s right, by Jove!” said Roderick; “if it’s coming to close quarters, I’ll mark one man anyway,” and with that he tumbled down the ladder, and into his cabin. I followed him, and got all the arms I could lay hands on, a couple of revolvers and a long duck-gun amongst the number. There were two rifles—the two we had used in the trouble with the men—in the chart-room, and these we brought on deck, with all the other pistols we had amongst us. We made a distribution of them amongst the old hands, giving Dan the duck-gun, which pleased him mightily.

  “I generally shoots ’em sittin’,” he said, “but I’ll go for to make a bag, and willin’. You’re keepin’ the Missie out of it, sir?”

  “Of course; she’s looking after the sick hands downstairs. You go forward, Dan, and wait for the word, then blaze away your hardest.”

  “Ay, ay,” replied he; and I took myself off to see after the others, whom we posted in the stern to keep a closer look-out; while Roderick, the first officer, and myself went above to the bridge.

  The men now fell to work in right good earnest. They had all the grit of the old sea-dogs in them—how, I know not, except in this, that their lives had been given to the one mistress. The thought of a brush-up put dash and daring into them; they had the boats cleared, the water-barrels filled, and the life-belts free, with an activity that was remarkable. Then they stood to watch the oncoming of the nameless ship; and when we hoisted our ensign, they burst again into that hoarse roar of applause which rolled across the water-waste, and must have sounded as a vaunting mockery to the men behind the walls of metal. But they answered us in turn, running up an ensign, and a cry came from all of us as we saw its colour, for it was the blue saltire on a white ground.

  “Russian, or I’m blind,” said the skipper, and I looked twice and knew that his sight was safe to him; for the nameless ship, which five days ago showed her heels under a Chilian mask, now made straight towards us in Russian guise.

  “Are you sure she’s the same ship?” asked Roderick, when his amazement let him speak.

  “Am I sure that my voice comes out of my throat?” said the old fellow testily. “Did you ever see but one hull shaped like that? And now she signals.”

  So rapidly had she drawn towards us that she was, indeed, then within gun-shot of us. After the first enthusiasm the men had stood, held under the spell of her amazing approach, and no soul had spoken. Even with their plain reckoning and hazy notion of it all, they seemed conscious of the peril; but not as I was conscious of it, for in my own heart I believed that no man amongst us would see tomorrow. There we stood alone, with no prospect but to face the men who openly declared war against us. I turned my eyes away to the crimson arch which marked the sun’s decline; I looked again to the east, whence black harbingers of night hung low upon the darkened sea; I searched the horizon in every quarter, but it lay barren of ships, and soon the last light would leave us, and with the ebb of day there was no security against an enemy whose intentions were no longer disguised. I say no longer disguised—but of this the skipper made me cognisant. He pointed to the mast on the nameless ship, where the Russian ensign had hung ten minutes before. It was there no longer; the black flag took its place.

  “Pirates, by the very devil!” said the skipper; and then he whistled long and loud and shrilly as a man who has solved a sum.

  “Gentlemen,” he added very slowly, “I said I would resign this ship at New York: with your permission I will withdraw that. I will sail with you wherever you go.”

  He shook our hands heartily, as though the discovery of our purpose had unclouded his mind. But we had no time for fuller understanding, for at that moment the air itself seemed torn apart by a great concussion, and a shell burst in the water no more than fifty yards ahead of us. When the knowledge that we were not hit was sure on the men’s part, they bellowed lustily; and old Dan fired his gun into the air with a great shout. Yet we knew that all this was the cheapest bravado; and when the skipper touched the bell to stop our engines, I was sure that he was wise.

  “That’s the end of it, then,” I said. “Well, it’s pretty ignominious, isn’t it, to be shot down like fools on our own quarter-deck?”

  “Wait awhile,” he answered, looking anxiously behind him, where a mist gathered on the sea; “let ’em lower a boat, the lubbers!”

  By this time the great vessel rode still some quarter of a mile away from us; but the glass showed me the men upon her decks, and conspicuous amongst them I saw the form of Captain Black standing by the steam steering gear. Others below were moving at the davits, so that in a small space a launch was riding in a still sea, and was making for us. I watched her with nerves strained and lips dry; she seemed to me the message boat from Death itself.

  “Stand steady, and wait for me!” suddenly yelled the skipper, his fingers moving nervously, and his look continually turning to the banks of mist behind us. “When I sing ‘Fire!’ pick your men!”

  The boat was so near that you could see the faces in it; and three of the five I recognised, for I had seen them in the room of the Rue Joubert. The others were not known to me, but had rascally countenances; and one of them was a Chinaman’s. The man who was in command was the fellow “Roaring John”; and when he was within hail he stood and bawled—

  “What ship?”

  “My ship!” roared back the skipper, again looking at the mist-clouds, and my heart gave a
bound when I read his purpose: we were drifting into them.

  “And who may you be?” bawled the fellow again, growing more insolent with every advance.

  “I’m one that’ll give you the best hiding you ever had, if you’ll step up here a minute!” yelled the skipper, as cool as a man in Hyde Park.

  “Oh, I guess,” said the man; “you’re a tarnation fine talker, ain’t you? But you’ll talk less when I come aboard you, oh, I reckon!”

  They came a couple of oars’ lengths nearer, when Captain York made his reply. There was a fine roll of confidence in his voice; and he almost laughed when he cried—

  “You’re coming aboard, are you? And which of you shall I have the pleasure of kicking first?”

  The hulking ruffian roared with pleasant laughter at the sally.

  “Oh, you’re a funny cuss, ain’t you, and pretty with your jaw, by thunder! But it’s me that you’ll have the pleasure of speaking to, and right quick, my mate, oh, you bet!”

  “In that case,” said the skipper, with his calmness well at zero; “in that case—you, Dan! introduce yourself to the gentleman.”

  Dan’s reply was instantaneous. He leant well over the bulwark, and his cheery old face beamed as he bellowed—

  “Ahoy, you there that it’s me pleasure to be runnin’ against so far from me old country. Will you have it hot, or will you have it the other way for a parcel of cold-livered lubbers? By the Old ’Un, how’s that for salt ’oss!”

  He had up with his shot gun, and the long ruffian, who had reached forward with his boat-hook, got the dose full in his face as it seemed to me. At the same moment the skipper called “Fire!” and the heavy crack of the rifles and the sharp report of the pistols rang out together. The very launch itself seemed to reel under the volley; but the Chinaman gave a great shout, and jumped into the sea with the agony of his wound; while two of the others were stretched out in death as they sat.

  “Full steam ahead!” roared Captain York, as the nameless ship replied with a shell that grazed our chart-room. “Full speed ahead!” Then, shaking his fist to the war-ship, he almost screamed—”Bested for a parcel of cut-throats, by the Powers!”

  There was no doubt about it at all. The moment the yacht answered to the screw the fog rolled round us like a sheet, in thick wet clouds, steaming damp on the decks; and twenty yards ahead or astern of us you could not see the long waves themselves. But the sensations of that five minutes I shall never forget. Shot after shot hissed and splashed ahead of us, behind us; now dull, heavy, yet penetrating, and we knew that the ship lay close on our track; then farther off and deadened, and we hoped that she had lost us. Again dreadfully close, so that a shell struck the chart-room full, and crushed it into splinters not bigger than your finger, then dying away to leave the stillness of the mist behind it. An awful chase, enduring many minutes; a chase when I went hot and cold, now filled with hope, then seeming to stand on the very brink of death. But at last the firing ceased. We left our course, steaming for some hours due south across the very track of the nameless ship; and we went headlong into the fog, the men standing yet at their posts, no soul giving a thought to the lesser danger that was begotten of our speed; every one of us held in that strange after-tension which follows upon calamity.

  When I left the bridge it was midnight. I was soaked to the skin and nigh frozen, and the water ran even from my hair; but a hot hand was put into mine as I entered the cabin, and then a thousand questions rained upon me.

  “I’ll tell you by-and-by, Mary. Were you very much afraid?”

  She tossed her head and seemed to think.

  “I was a bit afraid, Mark—a—a—little bit!”

  “And what did you do all the time?”

  “I—oh, I nursed Paolo—he’s dying.”

  The man truly lay almost at death’s door; but his delirium had passed; and he slept, muttering in his dream, “I can’t go to the City—Black; you know it—let me get aboard. Hands off! I told you the job was risky”; and he tossed and turned and fell into troubled slumber. And I could not help a thought of sorrow, for I feared that he would hang if ever we set foot ashore.

  I returned to the saloon sadly, though all was now brightness there. We served out grog liberally for the forward hands, and broke champagne amongst us.

  “Gentlemen,” said the skipper, giving us the toast, “you owe your lives to the Banks; and, please God, I’ll see you all in New York before three days.”

  And he kept his word; for we sighted Sandy Hook, and harm had come to no man that fought the unequal fight.

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE DRINKING HOLE IN THE BOWERY.

  The beauty of the entrance to the bay of New York, the amazing medley of shipping activity and glorious scenery, have often been described. Even to one who comes upon the capital of the New World, having seen many cities and many men, there is a charm in the sweeping woods and the distant heights, in the group of islets, and the massive buildings, that is hardly rivalled by the fascinations of any other harbour, that of San Francisco and the Golden Gates alone excepted. If you grant that the mere material of man’s making is all very new, its power and dignity is no less impressive. Nor in any other city of the world that I know does the grandeur of the natural environment force itself so close to the very gates, as in this bay which Hudson claimed, and a Dutch colony took possession of so long ago as 1614.

  It was about six o’clock in the evening when we brought the Celsis through the Narrows between Staten and Long Islands, and passed Forts Wandsworth and Hamilton. Then the greater harbour before the city itself rolled out upon our view; and as we steamed slowly into it the Customs took possession of us, and made their search. It was a short business, for we satisfied them that Paolo suffered from no malignant disease, although one small and singularly objectionable fellow seemed suspicious of everything aboard us. I do not wonder that he made the men angry, or that Dan had a word with him.

  “Look here, sir,” he whispered, making pretence to great honesty; “I won’t go for to deceive you—p’r’aps that dog’s stuffed wi’ di’monds.”

  “Do you reckon I’m a fool?” asked the man.

  “Well,” said old Dan, “I never was good at calcerlations; but you search that dog, and p’r’aps you’ll find somethin’.”

  The man seemed to think a moment; but Dan looked so very solemn, and Belle came sniffing up at the officer’s legs; so he passed his hand over her back, and lost some of his leg in return.

  “Didn’t I tell you,” said Dan, “as you’d get something if you searched that dog?—well, don’t you go for to doubt me word next time we’re meetin’. Good-day to yer honour. Is there any other animal as I could oblige you with?”

  The officer went off, the men howling with laughter; and a short while after we had made fast at the landing-stage, and were ready to go ashore.

  Paolo still lay very sick in his cabin, and we determined in common charity to take no action until he had his health again; but we set the men to keep a watch about the place, and for ourselves went off to dine at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. There, before a sumptuous dinner, and with all the novelty of the new scene, we nigh forgot all that happened since the previous month; when, without thought of adventure or of future, we had gone to Paris with the aimless purpose of the idle traveller. And, indeed, I did my best to encourage this spirit of forgetfulness, since through all the new enjoyment I could not but feel that danger surrounded us on every hand, and that I was but just embarked on that great mission I had undertaken.

  In this mood, when dinner was done, I suggested that Roderick should take Mary through the city awhile, and that I should get back to the Celsis, there to secure what papers were left for me, and to arrange, after thought, what my next step in the following of Captain Black should be. The skipper had friends to see in New York, and agreed that he would follow me to the yacht in a couple of hours, and that he would meet the others in the hotel after they had come from their excursion. This plan fell in with
my own, and I said “Good-bye” cheerfully enough to the three men as I buttoned up my coat; and sent for a coach. If I had known then that the next time I should meet them would be after weeks of danger and of peril, of sojourn in strange places, and of life amongst terrible men!

  I was driven to the wharf very quickly, and got aboard the yacht with no trouble. There was a man keeping watch upon her decks; and Dan had been in the sick man’s cabin taking drink to him. He told me that he was more easy, and spoke with the full use of his senses; and that he had fallen off into a comfortable sleep “since an hour.” I was glad at the news, and went to my own cabin, getting my papers, my revolver, and other things that I might have need of ashore.

  This work occupied me forty minutes or more; but as I was ready to go back to the others I looked into Paolo’s cabin, and, somewhat to my surprise, I saw that he was dressed, and seemingly about to quit the yacht. This discovery set me aglow with expectation. If the man were going ashore, whither could he go except to his associates, to those who were connected with Black and his crew? Was not that the very clue I had been hoping to get since I knew that we had a spy aboard us? Otherwise, I might wait a year and hear no more of the man or of his work except such tidings as should come from the sea. Indeed, my mind was made up in a moment: I would follow Paolo, at any risk, even of my life.

  This thought sent me forward again into the fo’castle, where Dan was.

  “Hist, Dan!” said I, “give me a man’s rig-out—a jersey and some breeches and a cap—quick,” and, while the old fellow stared and whistled softly, I helped to ransack his box; and in a trice I had dressed myself, putting my pistols, my papers, and my money in my new clothes; but leaving everything else in a heap on the floor.

  “Dan,” I said, “that Italian is going ashore, and I’m going to follow him. No, you mustn’t come, or the thing will be spoilt. Tell the forward lookout to see nothing if the fellow passes, and get my rubber shoes from my trunk.”