Martin Hyde (8 page)

"Heigho," said the boatswain, yawning. "I sha'n't have much to spend on Hollands when I get there. Them rubbers at bowls in London have pretty near cleaned my purse out."

"Ah, come off," said the carpenter. "You can always get rid of a coil of rope to someone, on the sly, you boatswains can. A coil of rope comes to a few guilders. Eh, mynheer?"

"I sold too many coils off this hooker," said the boatswain. "I run the ship short."

"Who sleeps in the hammock there?" the carpenter asked.

"The loblolly boy for the cabin," the boatswain answered. "Young clumsy hound. I clumped his fat chops for him this morning."

"Mr. Jermyn's boy?" said the carpenter, sinking his voice. "There's something queer about that Mr. Jermyn. 'E wears a false beard. That Mr. Scott isn't all what he pretends neither."

"I don't see how that can be," the boatswain said, "I wish I'd a drink of something. I'm as dry as a foul block."

"There'd be more'n a dram to us two, if Mr. Scott was what I think," said the carpenter. "I'm going to keep my eye on that gang."

"Keep your eye on the moon," said the boatswain. "I tell you what'd raise drinks pretty quick."

"What would?"

"That loblolly boy would."

"Eh?" said the carpenter. "Go easy, Joe. He may be awake."

"Not he," said the boatswain, carelessly glancing into my hammock, where I lay like all the Seven Sleepers condensed. "Not he. Snoring young hound. Do him good to raise drinks for the crowd."

"Eh," said the carpenter, a quieter, more cautious scoundrel than the other (therefore much more dangerous).
"How would a boy like that?" He left his sentence unfinished.

"Sell him to one of these Dutch East India merchants," said the boatswain. "There's always one or two of them in the Canal, bound for Java. A likely young lad like that would fetch twenty pounds from a Dutch skipper. A white boy would sell for forty in the East. Even if we only got ten, there'd be pretty drinking while it lasted."

This evidently made an impression on the carpenter, for he did not answer at once. "Yes," he said presently. "But a lad like that's got good friends. He don't talk like you or I, Joe."

"Friends in your eye," said the other. "What's a lad with good friends doing as loblolly boy?"

"Run away," the carpenter said. "Besides, Mr. Jermyn isn't likely to let the lad loose in Haarlem."

"He might. We could keep a watch," the boatswain answered. "If he goes ashore, we could tip off Longshore Jack to keep an eye on him. Jack gets good chances,–working the town."

"Yes," said the other. "I mean to put Longshore Jack on to this Mr. Jermyn. If I aren't foul of the buoy there's money in Mr. Jermyn. More than in East Indian slaves."

"Oh," the boatswain answered, carelessly, "I don't bother about my betters, myself. What d'ye think to get from Mr. Jermyn?"

The carpenter made no answer; but lighted his pipe at the lantern, evidently turning over some scheme in his mind. After that, the talk ran on other topics, some of which I could not understand. It was mostly about the Gold Coast, about a place called Whydah, where there was good trading for negroes, so the boatswain said. He had been there in a Bristol brig, under Captain Travers, collecting trade, i. e. negro slaves. At Whydah they had made King Jellybags so drunk with "Samboe" (whatever Samboe was) that they had carried him off to sea, with his whole court. "The blacks was mad after," he said, "the next ship's crew that put in there was all et on the beach. I seed their bones after. All picked clean. But old King Jellybags fetched thirty pound in Port Royal, duty free." He seemed to think that this story was something to laugh at.

I strained my ears to hear more of what they said. I could catch nothing more relating to myself. Nothing more was said about me. They told each other stories about the African shore, where the schooners anchored in the creeks, among the swamp-smells, in search of slaves or gold dust. They told tales of Tortuga, where the pirates lived together in a town, whenever they were at home after a cruise. "Rum is cheaper than water there," the bo'sun said. "A sloop comes off once a month with stores from Port Royal. Its happy days, being in Tortuga." Presently the two men crept aft to the empty cabin to steal the captain's brandy. Soon afterwards they passed forward to their hammocks.

When they had gone, I lay awake, wondering how I was to avoid this terrible danger of being sold to the Dutch East India merchants. I wondered who Longshore Jack might be. I feared that the carpenter suspected our party. I kept repeating his words, "There's money in Mr. Jermyn," till at last, through sheer weariness, I fell asleep. In the morning, as I cleared away breakfast, from the cabin-table, I told Mr. Jermyn all that I had heard. The Duke seemed agitated. He kept referring to an astronomical book which told him how his ruling planets stood. "Yes," he kept saying, "I've no very favourable stars till July. I don't like this, Jermyn." Mr. Jermyn smoked a pipe of tobacco (a practise rare among gentlemen at that time) while he thought of what could be done. At last he spoke.

"I know what we'll do, sir. We'll sell this man as carpenter to the Dutch East India man. We'll give the two of them a sleeping draught in their drink. We'll get rid of them both together."

"It sounds very cruel," said the Duke.

"Yes," said Mr. Jermyn, "it is cruel. But who knows what the sly man may not pick up? We're playing for high stakes, we two. We've got many enemies. One word of what this man suspects may bring a whole pack of spies upon us. Besides, if the spies get hold of this boy we shall have some trouble."

"The boy's done very well," said the Duke.

"He's got a talent for overhearing," Mr. Jermyn answered. "Well, Martin Hyde. How do you like your work?"

"Sir," I answered, "I don't like it at all."

"Well," he said, "we shall be in the Canal tonight, now the wind has changed. Hold out till then. I think, sir," he said, turning to the Duke, "the boy has done really very creditably. The work is not at all the work for one of his condition."

The Duke rewarded me with his languid beautiful smile.

"Who lives will see," he said. "A King never forgets a faithful servant."

The phrase seemed queer on the lips of that man's father's son; but I bowed very low, for I felt that I was already a captain of a man-of-war, with a big blazing decoration on my heart. Well, who lives, sees. I lived to see a lot of strange things in that King's service.

CHAPTER VII

LAND
RATS
AND
WATER
RATS

I
WILL
say no more about our passage except that we were three days at sea. Then, when I woke one morning, I found that we were fast moored to a gay little wharf, paved with clean white cobbles, on the north side of the canal. Strange, outlandish figures, in immense blue baggy trousers, clattered past in wooden shoes. A few Dutch galliots lay moored ahead of us, with long scarlet pennons on their mastheads. On the other side of the canal was a huge East Indiaman, with her lower yards cockbilled, loading all three hatches at once. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was so bright that all the scene had thrice its natural beauty. The clean neat trimness of the town, the water slapping past in the canal, the ships with their flags, the Sunday trim of the schooner, all filled me with delight, lit up, as they were, by the April sun. I looked about me at my ease, for the deck was deserted. Even the never-sleeping mate was resting, now that we were in port. While I looked, a man sidled along the wharf from a warehouse towards me. He looked at the schooner in a way which convinced me that he was not a sailor. Then, sheltering behind a
bollard, he lighted his pipe. He was a short, active, wiry man, with a sharp, thin face, disfigured by a green patch over his right eye. He looked to me to have a horsey look, as though he were a groom or coachman. After lighting his pipe, he advanced to a point abreast of the schooner's gangway, from which he could look down upon her, as she lay with her deck a foot or two below the level of the wharf.

"Chips aboard?" he asked, meaning, "Is the carpenter on board?"

"Yes," I said. "Will you come aboard?"

He did not answer, but looked about the ship, as though making notes of everything. Presently he turned to me.

"You're new," he said. "Are you Mr. Jermyn's boy?" I told him that I was.

"How is Mr. Jermyn keeping?" he asked. "Is that cough of his better?" This made me feel that probably the man knew Mr. Jermyn. "Yes," I said. "He's got no cough, now." "He'd a bad one last time he was here," the man answered. For a while he kept silent. He seemed to me to be puzzling out the relative heights of our masts. Suddenly he turned to me, with a very natural air. "How's Mr. Scott's business going?" he asked. "You know, eh? You know what I mean?" I was taken off my guard. I'm afraid I hesitated, though I knew that the man's sharp eyes noted every little change on my face. Then, in the most natural way, the man reassured me. "You know," he said.
"What demand for oranges in London?" I was thankful that he had not meant the other business. I said with a good deal too much of eagerness that there was, I believed, a big demand for oranges. "Yes," he said, "I suppose so many young boys makes a brisk demand." I was uneasy at the man's manner. He seemed to be pumping me, but he had such a natural easy way, under the pale mask of his face, that I could not be sure if he were in the secret or not. I was on my guard now, ready for any question, as I thought, but eager for an excuse to get away from this man before I betrayed any trust. "Nice ship," he said easily. "Did you join her in Spain?" "No," I answered. "In London." "In London?" he said. "I thought you'd something of a Spanish look." "No," I said. "I'm English. Did you want the carpenter, sir?"

"Yes," he answered. "I do. But no hurry. No hurry, lad." Here he pulled out a watch, which he wound up, staring vacantly about the decks as he did so. "Tell me, boy," he said gently. "Is Lane come over with you?" To tell the truth, it flashed across my mind, when he pulled out his watch, that he was making me unready for a difficult question. I was not a very bright boy; but I had this sudden prompting or instinct, which set me on my guard. No one is more difficult to pump than a boy who is ready for his questioner, so I stared at him. "Lane?" I said, "Lane? Do you mean the bo'sun?"

"No," he said. "The Colonel. You know? Eh?"

"No." I said. "I don't know."

"Oh well," he answered. "It's all one. I suppose he's not come over." At this moment the mate came on deck with the carpenter, carrying a model ship which they had been making together in their spare time. They nodded to the stranger, who gave them a curt "How do?" as though they had parted from him only the night before. The mate growled at me for wasting time on deck when I should be at work. He sent me down to my usual job of getting the cabin ready for the breakfast of the gentlemen. As I passed down the hatchway, I heard the carpenter say to the stranger, "Well. So what's the news with Jack?" It flashed into my mind that this man might be his friend, the "Longshore Jack "who was to keep an eye upon me as well as upon Mr. Jermyn. It gave me a most horrid qualm to think this. The man was so sly, so calm, so guarded, that the thought of him being on the look-out for me, to sell me to the Dutch captains, almost scared me out of my wits. The mate brought him to the cabin as I was laying the table. "This is the cabin," he was saying, "where the gentlemen messes. That's our stern-chaser, the gun there."

"Oh," said the stranger, looking about him like one who has never seen a ship before. "But where do they sleep? Do they sleep on the sofa, (he meant the lockers), there?"

"Why, no," said the mate. "They sleep in the little cabins yonder. But we mustn't stay down here now. I'm not supposed to use this cabin. I mustn't let the captain see me." So they went on deck again, leaving me alone. When the gentlemen came in to breakfast, I had to go on deck for the dishes. As I passed to the galley, I noticed the stranger talking to the carpenter by the main-rigging. They gave me a meaning look, which I did not at all relish. Then, as I stood in the galley, while the cook dished up, I noticed that the stranger raised his hand to a tall, lanky, ill-favoured man who was loafing about on the wharf, carrying a large black package. This man came right up to the edge of the wharf, directly he saw the stranger's signal. It made me uneasy somehow. I was in a thoroughly anxious mood, longing to confide in some one, even in the crusty cook, yet fearing to open my mouth to any one, even to Mr. Jermyn, to whom I dared not speak with the captain present in the room. Well, I had my work to do, so I kept my thoughts to myself. I took the dishes down below to the cabin, where, after removing the covers, I waited on the gentlemen.

"Martin," said Mr. Jermyn. "This skylight over our heads makes rather a draught. We can't have it open in the mornings for breakfast."

"Did you open it?" the captain asked. "What made you open it?"

"Please, sir, I didn't open it."

"Then shut it," said the captain. "Go on deck. The catch is fast outside."

I ran very nimbly on deck to shut the skylight, but the catch was very stiff; it took me some few moments to undo. I noticed, as I worked at it, that the deck was empty, except for the lanky man with the package, who was now forward, apparently undoing his package on the forehatch. I thought that he was a sort of pedlar or bumboatman, come to sell onions, soft bread, or cheap jewellery to the sailors. The carpenter's head showed for an instant at the galley-door. He was looking forward at the pedlar. The hands were all down below in the forecastle, eating their breakfast. The other stranger seemed to have gone. I could not see him about the deck. At last the skylight came down with a clatter, leaving me free to go below again. As I went down the hatchway, into the 'tweendecks gloom, I saw a figure apparently at work among the ship's stores lashed to the deck there. I could not see who it was; it was too dark for that; but the thing seemed strange to me. I guessed that it might be my enemy the boatswain, so I passed aft to the cabin on the other side.