Chapter 8

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_ CHAPTER EIGHT.

If, as is asserted, the pleasures of life consist rather in the anticipation than in the fruition, or perhaps we may say, in the means taken to enjoy them, rather than in the objects when obtained; so, most assuredly, is the anticipation of evil worse than the evil itself; and misfortunes, which appear great and terrible when looked at timidly from a distance, diminish, if they do not altogether disappear, when grappled with manfully.

In fact, as somebody or other observed, once upon a time, that whenever he wrote a philosophical, a beautiful, or a noble sentiment, that fellow, Shakspeare, was sure to have been before him; I might more briefly express what I wanted to say, by quoting our great poet--

"Cowards die many times before their death."

Now, as neither Bowse, nor his officers or men, were characters of that description, but, on the contrary, as brave fellows as ever looked danger in the face without flinching, they, on their own accounts, cared very little whether the craft in sight was a pirate or an honest trader. But it was now very evident that the speronara had an object in steering, as she was clearly doing, for the brig, and as that object could scarcely be otherwise than hostile, there was a possibility of their being attacked; and with one of those unpremeditated cheers which British seamen cannot refrain from giving at the thoughts of a skirmish, every man hastened to buckle a cutlass to his side. Powder and shot were got up, and the small arms and boarding-pikes were placed by the sides of the guns, ready at hand, to be seized in a moment. The spirit of the veteran soldier was instantly aroused in the bosom of Colonel Gauntlett. As he sniffed the air of battle, the querulous, ill-tempered old gentleman was changed into the cool and gallant officer. As soon as Mitchell understood what was likely to happen, he was seen to dive into the cabin, from whence he soon returned, when going up to his master, he stood before him anticipating his orders.

"Mitchell, my sword and pistols, and bring me some ammunition, too, mark me."

The servant's hand rose to his cap, and turning round, he again descended to the cabin, reappearing in less than half a minute with the weapons. The colonel buckled on his sword with far greater satisfaction than a dandy tries on a new coat, and after carefully loading and priming his pistols, which were of exquisite workmanship, he placed them, with a look of satisfaction, in his belt. Not a word, however, did he say while thus employed. The first observation was to his servant.

"Mitchell," he said, "if that rascally felucca attempts to board us, you are to act as my reserve, remember. We shall have to charge on to her deck, or her people will charge on to ours, and you are to keep close behind me, and support me if I require you."

"Yes, your honour," answered Mitchell, in imitation of his master fastening a cutlass round his waist. "Is it them chaps in the night-caps on board the little boat out there we've to fight?"

"It is, Mitchell, the people in that felucca now approaching us," said the colonel.

"Och, then, by the powers, we'll blow them to blazes with these little darlins alone;" and thereon he pulled forth from his coat-tail pockets a pair of huge horse-pistols, of antique date and prodigious bore, which would almost require a rest from which to fire them.

The sun had set, and the short twilight of that southern latitude was fast disappearing, yet sufficient remained to show the outline of the speronara as the two vessels drew near to each other, though more distant objects had long since been shrouded from sight. Her tapering lateen sails now, as seen in one, appeared like the summit of a lofty pyramid of dark hue, surrounded by the waves. Then, as they approached still nearer, and she was almost abeam, the crew were seen standing up, and watching them with eagerness. Instead, however, of attempting to pass ahead of the brig, as she came near, she kept away so as pass close under her quarter. Now came the anxious time. If she was about to board, she would be alongside in another instant. Bowse, however, felt that whatever might be his suspicions of her honesty, without some more presumptive evidence of evil intentions, it would not do for him to commence hostilities; he therefore, taking his speaking-trumpet in his hand, went aft, and leaned ever the quarter-rail.

The speronara came rapidly on, and was close to.

"I have one message for you," exclaimed a voice from the deck of the stranger, in Italian accents--"send boat here."

"I'll see you damned first," exclaimed Bowse. "I've no boat to send-- send yours," he shouted through his speaking-trumpet.

"Heave to, there--I send boat," was shouted in return from the speronara; and she was immediately seen to hug the wind, her helm was put down, and about she came on the other tack, the same on which the _Zodiac_ was sailing, placing herself thus on their weather quarter.

"Keep her away," shouted Bowse to the man at the helm, thinking that the speronara was about to board him; but immediately he saw he was mistaken, for instead of her fore-sheet being eased off, it was kept to windward, and, as she lay hove-to, he observed preparations to launch a boat into the water. "I suppose, sir, we may let these fellows come on board?" he said, addressing the colonel, who was by his side; "they can do us no harm, and they may possibly have a message."

"As you think fit, Captain Bowse," returned the colonel, who was so pleased with the master's coolness and bearing, that he no longer refused to give him the usual title,--"I've no objection. They can't eat us; and if they meditate running alongside, they will see we are prepared for them."

"Put the helm down, my lad, round in the weather after-braces, and lay the main-yard square--brace up the head yards--rouse in the main sheet-- ease off the head sheets."

These orders being executed, and the brig brought to the wind, she was hove to, with her head in the same direction as that of the speronara. That vessel could just be seen to windward, looking dark against the western sky, and far larger than she really was, slowly forging ahead, while a small boat could just be discerned traversing the intervening space.

"Well, as we are to have no fighting, I suppose, I will just go and relieve the anxiety of my little girl," said the colonel, whose good humour was now in the ascendant.

No sooner did his niece see him than she flew into his arms, and kissed his cheek affectionately--an example Marianna, in the exuberance of her joy at finding there was to be no fighting, was nearly imitating.

"Oh, dear uncle, I am so glad that there is no danger to be encountered. You cannot tell how anxious I have been."

"Well, missie, since you don't like the cabin you shall come on deck and see what next takes place; we are going to have some visitors, it appears." Saying this, he gallantly placed a shawl on her shoulders, and gave his hand to lead her on deck.

While the boat of the speronara was approaching, three or four of the _Zodiac's_ crew were collected by the foremost gun, watching her progress with no little interest. Two of them were regular salts of the old school, who still delighted in ear-rings and pigtails, though, in compliment to the degenerate taste of the times, they wore the latter ornaments much smaller than they had done in their younger days. They were prime seamen, and fellows who were ready to go down with their colours flying rather than strike to an enemy.

"You have heard tell on the _Flying Dutchman_, of course, Bill," said Jem Marline, casting a look to windward at the speronara, and hitching up his trousers, while he squirted a stream of tobacco-juice through the port.

"On course," answered Bill Rullock, "I haven't been to sea near thirty years without, messmate."

"Did you ever cast eyes on the chap, though?" asked Jem.

"Can't say as how I have," answered Bill. "But there's many they say who has, and few who ever lived to tell of it. But what was you thinking on, Jem?"

"Why you see, Bill," replied his chum, "I don't altogether like the circumbendibus ways of that ere chap to windward. You see, first in Malta harbour, we falls in with him or one like him, for I don't say, mind you, that that ere craft is the same which nearly ran foul on us yesterday; then out he goes right ahead of us, and then just as it's got dark, down he comes again, and wants to send a boat aboard us. Now you see as how that's the thing I don't in no manner of ways approve on. If I was our skipper, I would send a round shot right into the boat, sooner than any of his people should step on this deck. That's just the trick the cursed Dutchman's up to."

"No manner o' doubt about it," said Bill gravely; "but you know, Jem, they say the Dutchman's cruising ground is off the Cape, in a full-rigged ship, and I never heard on his coming into these parts."

"True as gospel, old shipmate, but how should we know that he hasn't got tired of the Cape, and taken a trip up here?" argued Jem. "And as to the matter of the rig, he may shift his craft according to the sea he's in. Besides, you know as how if there's one _Flying Dutchman_, there may be two, and this fellow may have come to trouble us here, up the straits. Depend on't, Bill, the less company one keeps with them sort of gentry the better."

"Very true, Jem, but suppose a chap out of that boat then does come on board, what's to happen think ye?" asked Bill, in a tone which showed that he in no way doubted his messmate's account.

"Why I can't say exactly, because as how I never seed what he does; but from what I've heard, I believe he tries to slip a letter like into the skipper's or some 'un's hand who's green enough to take it; and then the chap, who's no better nor Davy Jones himself, gives a loud laugh, and down goes the ship to the bottom, or else a hurricane is sure to get up and drive her ashore. But here comes that cursed felucca's boat. I wish we might just let fly at her; it would save mischief, I'll be sworn."

"Bear a hand there with a rope for the boat coming alongside," sung out the captain in a loud voice, which sounded as ominous of evil to the ears of the superstitious crew. "Bring a lantern here to the gangway," he added. Bowse, with his first mate and Colonel Gauntlett, stood near the gangway, which was lighted up with a lantern to receive the strangers, as a small boat containing in all only four persons, came round under the brig's stern. They pulled only two oars, and two people were seated in the stern sheet. "Keep an eye to windward there, Larkins, on that felucca," said the first mate to the second, as he went to his captain's summons. "I don't altogether think her cut honest."

"A mighty fuss about a very small affair, I suspect," muttered the colonel, as a figure was seen to ascend from the boat up the side of the brig.

The stranger was dressed in the Phrygian cap, and simple garb of a Sicilian mariner. His appearance, as far as it could be judged of by the dim light of the lantern, was anything but prepossessing. A profusion of long, straggling, grizzly locks, once probably of raven hue, which evidently had not felt the barber's scissors for many a year, concealed the greater part of his face which was still further hidden by a patch over one eye, and a handkerchief bound round his head, while his mouth was surrounded by an enormous pair of moustachios, and a beard of similar character, so that little more than the tip of a red nose, and a rolling fierce eye was visible. As he reached the deck, this handsome personage bowed to the group before him, without speaking, while he glanced his eye round at the crew, who still wore their cutlasses, and at the other weapons which were placed ready for use.

Behind the group I have described, stood several of the crew, among whom were Jem Marline, and his chum Bill Bullock, and if the stranger had been able to read the expression of their countenances, he would certainly have been a bold man, had he not felt some apprehension; for they spoke almost as plainly as words could do, that had they the power, they would, without ceremony, heave him into the sea. There were fear, suspicion, and dislike, strangely blended with the usual bold recklessness which had given a character to their features a sudden emotion could not obliterate. Fortunately, however, the light of the lantern fell in such a way as to throw them, where they stood, into shade.

"What is it you want with us, signor?" said Bowse, in his usual blunt tone, seeing that the other did not speak.

"To carry us all to Davy Jones, if we don't look sharp," muttered Jem Marline to his messmate. "The beggar will be handing a letter directly, and then stand by for squall."

The stranger shook his head, as if not comprehending what was said.

"That's it," whispered Jem, in a tone of terror. "He don't speak. He never does."

Bowse repeated the question, in the _lingua Franca_ of those seas.

The stranger shook his head.

"He does not understand our lingo," observed Bowse. "Here, Timmins, you speak a little Italian--just ask this gentleman what he wants aboard here."

"Ay, ay, sir," said the mate coming forward, and asking the question in execrable Italian.

Again the stranger shook his head, as if not comprehending the question, and finding that not much progress was likely to be made at this rate, he turned round, and leaning through the gangway, beckoned his companion to come on deck. As he drew back, another person appeared, dressed precisely in the same manner; but evidently very much younger. A long moustache shaded his mouth, and wild elf-locks concealed the greater portion of his face, and from a patch down one side of his cheek, he looked as if, like his elder companion, he had been engaged in some severe fighting. The light of the lantern, as he reached the deck, seemed particularly to annoy him, and he stood with his eyes cast on the deck, shading them with one of his hands, nor could he meet the glance of any of those surrounding him.

"What do you wish to explain?" said the second stranger in Italian, bowing with a not ungraceful bend, and a touch of his hand to his cap.

"Oh! you can speak, can you? Well, that's all right," said Timmins. "And now, if you please, tell us why it is the felucca there was so anxious to speak to us?"

"_Si, signor_," answered the younger stranger, very slowly; and in an Italian which was mostly understood, he then explained that the speronara, of which his father was master, had, that afternoon, fallen in with an Austrian man-of-war brig, which had brought her to, and sent a boat on board her. The officers, he said, informed them that the noted Greek pirate Zappa, in his famous brig the _Sea Hawk_, had lately been heard of not far from the mouth of the Adriatic, and that he had plundered and destroyed several vessels. The Austrian, he said, had given him despatches for the governor of Malta, relative to the subject, as also to the Neapolitan Government, with a reward for carrying them, and had charged them to inform all vessels they should fall in with of what had occurred.

"Then he did not tell you to speak us in particular," said Timmins.

"_Si, signor_, he expressly--oh! no--not you in particular--oh, no," replied the young man.

"Have you nothing further to tell us?" said Timmins. "Because you see, though we are much obliged to you for your information, we are in a hurry to be on our course again, and if you should happen to fall in with the Signor Zappa and his brig the _Sea Hawk_, just tell him that the _Zodiac_ will give him a warm reception if he attempts to play off any of his tricks upon her."

"You don't know the pirate," exclaimed the young man vehemently, "he--"

"Do you know him?" said Timmins, fixing his eye upon him. The man's glance quailed before that of the stout sailor.

"Oh no, signor, I don't know him--I have heard of him though."

"Oh! is that it?" said the mate, interpreting what he heard to the captain.

"Well, just ask him and his father if they will come down below, and take a glass of something before they shove off," said Bowse.

A few words were exchanged between the two strangers in a low tone, and there appeared to be some hesitation on the part of the elder; but, at last, they consented, and followed the master into an outer cabin, which he had retained as his own, and where he and his mate messed. A door from it opened into the cabins engaged by the colonel, who, when he saw the strangers, retired also with his niece into their cabin.

As the door between the two stood open, all that took place in one could be heard in the other.

"Let the Italians come in here, Mr Bowse," said the colonel, from the inner cabin. "I will give them a glass of sherry which they will like better than rum and water, and it will do them more good than their own thin wash."

When the strangers, who, directed by the signs made by the master, found themselves in the presence of a lady, they stood somewhat abashed, it seemed, and bowed respectfully as they quaffed off the wine offered to them. The bright light which was shed from a lamp hanging from the deck seemed also much to annoy their eyes, long accustomed to darkness, and they kept their faces shaded by their hands during the short time they were in the cabin, so that little or nothing of their feature? could be seen.

For an instant, however, the eyes of the youngest fell on Ada, and, at that moment, there gleamed in them a peculiar expression, which she could not help remarking; but what it meant to say, she was at a loss to comprehend. It was certainly a look of intelligence, as if he expected to be understood; but there was also blended with it an expression of admiration, pity, and regret, which further puzzled her. At all events, she was convinced that, by that look, he intended to convey some meaning, which he dared not otherwise explain.

The strangers remained scarcely a minute below, and respectfully wishing the occupants of the cabin a good evening, they took their leave. The elder went first, and as the second followed, he appeared to stumble at the door. As he did so, he let a folded paper fall from his hand, and, at the same instant, he gave a hurried glance at Ada over his shoulder. Before she had time to tell him of his loss, he had sprung up the companion-ladder. The strangers were quickly in their boat, which, with rapid strokes, pulled back towards the speronara.

"Up with the helm, my lad," exclaimed the captain, in a hurried tone, to the man at the wheel, as soon as the boat left the side, "haul aft the head sheets--ease off the main sheet; Mr Timmins, we'll keep her on her right course."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the mate--shouting as the brig's head fell off, "square away the head yards, my men; come, be sharp about it."

"And what do you think, Timmins, of those fellows' account of the Austrian brig and the pirate? It seems somewhat strange, doesn't it?" said Bowse, as he walked the deck with his first officer as soon as they had put the ship on her former course. The speronara still lay hove to right astern, her outline every instant becoming more indistinct as the brig ran from her.

"Why, sir," replied the mate, in return to his commander's question. "I don't think any good of it, and that's a fact; but if you ask if I believe it, I don't do that neither. These Italians are much given to lying at best, as far as my experience goes; and I believe we have just heard a pretty round lie, though I don't say there was no truth altogether in it. To my mind, if there is such a chap as that Zap--what do they call him, the pirate--it is much more likely that he is on board that felucca, or perhaps he was one of the fellows who came on board us, than that an Austrian man-of-war brig should have sent her cruising about to give notice of him to English merchantmen."

"Well, Timmins, that's my view of the case," replied Bowse; "I think the Austrian brig would have stood on to Malta herself, seeing she must have been almost in sight of it, instead of sending a craft of that sort with a message. Besides, what business had the speronara there at all?"

"There's something very suspicious about it, at all events," returned the mate. "Now, though I don't often listen to what the men say, Captain Bowse, and they generally get hold of the wrong end of a thing, yet they have often an inkling of what's right and wrong. Well, sir, they've already got all sorts of stories aboard here, about the _Flying Dutchman_ and such-like stuff, and they don't at all like the look of things. When you were below with the strangers, they talked of throwing them crop and heels overboard and letting them swim to their boats, and I believe if you hadn't come up with them on deck yourself, they would not have let me prevent them."

"I believe the people are right, Timmins, in thinking that the two fellows who stood on our deck lately are knaves, but it wouldn't have done to heave them overboard," said the master. "However, they are not likely to do us any harm if we keep a bright look-out, and should any rascally pirate attack us, I'm sure all on board here will stand to their guns like men." _

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