Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake

All silent, and he lowered himself down to find a lantern burning, but not a soul there even in the bunks, the men’s kits being also gone.

“Deserted, by jingo!” cried Oakum, slapping his thigh, as he began to ascend the ladder. “Here, ’Pollo, run and call the skipper.”

“What’s wrong?” cried Captain Studwick, from out of the darkness.

“Not a blessed man, sir, left aboard;” and the captain brought his foot down with a savage stamp upon deck.

Story 1-Chapter X.

Off at Last

The outcry brought the doctor, Mr Wilson, and John Studwick on deck the latter panting, and evidently in a terrible state of alarm.

“Quick, father, the boat, save Bessy, don’t mind me,” he gasped.

“There’s nothing to fear, my boy,” exclaimed the captain, catching the young man’s arm. “Only the men have gone ashore – forsaken the ship. Now go below. Here, you Oakum, what do you mean, you scoundrel? Where’s Mr Jones?”

“Here, sir,” said the mate, who had hurried from his berth. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” exclaimed the captain, stamping about the deck in his rage. “Why, the men have forsaken the ship. What were you about?”

“I beg pardon, Captain Studwick,” said the mate, sharply; “but it was my watch below. You said you would see to the first watch with Oakum.”

“So I did, so I did,” cried the captain. “Here, Oakum.”

“You said I could go below, Capen,” said Oakum, gruffly.

“Did you know anything of this?”

“If I’d know’d anything of it, I should have come and told you,” growled Oakum. “Didn’t I give the alarm as soon as I know’d?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” cried the captain. “There, I beg your pardon, Mr Jones. Don’t take any notice, Oakum. It’s enough to make any man mad. How am I to face Mr Parkley and Mr Pugh when they come off in the morning?”

“Lads on’y gone off to have a good drink, p’raps, sir,” suggested Oakum.

“Drink? No. They’ve been got at and bribed, or persuaded not to go. The scoundrels! I’ll have them before the nearest magistrate and punish them for this.”

“Got to ketch ’em first,” growled Oakum to himself.

“Look here, when did you find this out?” exclaimed the captain.

“When you heerd me shout,” said Oakum. “’Pollo here thought he heard a noise, and we came and looked.”

“And I see de boat go astern wif all de men in, sah,” said ’Pollo, importantly.

“It’s a planned thing, or the men would not have gone off like that,” said the captain. “Mark my words, John, that foreigner’s at the bottom of this. Did either of you see him come near the ship?”

“I did, sah,” cried ’Pollo.

“You did?” exclaimed the captain.

“Yes, sah, jus’ ’fore dark I see um get in boat ’low de wharf, and two men row boat wif um.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sah, I quite sure. I see um sit in de stern wrap up in um cloak, and smoke cigar. But he nebber come nigh de ship.”

“I thought as much,” groaned the captain. “Here, go below, John. The night air’s chilly. There’s nothing the matter, my child,” he continued tenderly, “only some of the crew have absconded.” For just then Bessy Studwick, very quiet and trembling, had come to his side. “Well, gentlemen, I’m very sorry, but I could not help it, and now I shall have to ask you to share the watch with Mr Jones and myself. Oakum and ’Pollo, go below. Oakum, you will take the next watch with Mr Jones; Mr Meldon, or you Mr Wilson, will, perhaps, join me in the morning watch.”

Both gentlemen expressed their willingness, and the night passed off without further misadventure.

Captain Studwick was quite right, for the Cuban had hovered about the schooner until darkness set in, when, watching his opportunity, he caught the attention of one of the men, who absolutely refused to listen to him at first, but as Lauré bribed higher, and vowed that it was a mad voyage, of which he had himself repented, as he would not expose the men to the risks of the deadly coast where the treasure lay, the man began to listen.

“There are fevers always on those shores, of the most deadly kind,” he whispered; “and I shall feel as if I had sent a party of good British seamen to their death.”

At last his words and his money began to tell. This man was won over, and when the others were brought under the persuasive ways of the Cuban, the dread of punishment for desertion was mastered by another sovereign or two, and after his last words they gave way.

“Take your choice,” he had said at last; “a dog’s death and your body for the sharks in that pestilent clime, or the money I give you. You can take the night train for London, have your run there, and then get a good vessel afterwards.”

An additional sovereign to the man he felt most likely to be his tool made him promise to cut the hawser, and then all went well for the infamous design, except that this man repented of part of his bargain, and the crew of stout, able seamen was taken off, and landed a mile or so above where the schooner lay in the tideway.

By eight o’clock in the morning Mr Parkley and Dutch came off to announce that they had discovered through ’Pollo that when he saw Tolly and the other diver they were on their way to the station, and had taken tickets for London.

“Did you ever have worse news?” said Mr Parkley, bitterly. “It may be months before we can get others who will go, for Layman, my other man, is ill.”

“Yes,” said the captain, quietly.

“What do you mean?” exclaimed Mr Parkley, aghast.

“Our friend the Cuban has seduced all the men away, and stopped the expedition.”

“I’ll be – No, I won’t swear,” exclaimed Mr

Parkley, turning red with fury. “Stopped the voyage, has he! Got my divers away, and the crew, has he! Look here, Dutch Pugh; look here, Captain Studwick. I’m a man who takes a good deal of moving, but when I do move it takes more to stop me. I’ll move heaven and earth to carry this plan out, and I’ll spend every sixpence I’ve got, but what I’ll beat that scoundrel.”

“You will apply to the magistrates about the men?” said the captain; “at least, shall I?”

“No,” said Mr Parkley, sharply. “Might just as well commence proceedings against that scoundrel. Waste of time. Dutch Pugh, you’ll stand by me?”

“Indeed I will, Mr Parkley,” said Dutch, calmly, as he held out his hand.

“And I’m sure I will,” exclaimed the captain.

“I knew you would,” said Mr Parkley, warmly. “I’m determined now, for it’s evident that that rascal will try all he can to thwart me. Come down in the cabin, and let’s see what’s to be done. We’ll have a meeting.”

They were all seated round the cabin table soon after, and the matter was discussed in all its bearings, Captain Studwick saying that he had no fear of being able to get a dozen good men in a day or two, if they were prepared to pay pretty highly.

“Then you must pay highly,” said Mr Parkley; “but look here, every step you take must be with the knowledge that this Lauré is trying to thwart you.”

“I will not boast,” said Captain Studwick, “but if I get a crew on board here again, I think it will take two Laurés to trick me.”

“Good!” said Mr Parkley, beginning to brighten up. “What I want is to get off at once. It will be horrible to stay, for we shall be the laughing-stock of the whole town. The chaff was beginning last night.”

“But about divers?” said the captain.

“Yes, there is the difficulty. It is not every man who will train for it, as it is a risky thing. Perhaps I may be able to train one or two of the men we get. At all events, go I will, and I will not be beaten.”

“I’m afraid that would be but a poor chance,” said Dutch, who sat there pale and troubled, but had hardly spoken.

“Don’t throw cold water on it, Pugh, for Heaven’s sake,” cried Mr Parkley, testily.

“I do not wish to do that,” said Dutch. “I wish to help you.”

“Well, then,” cried Mr Parkley, sharply, “I shall take old Rasp. He’ll go to oblige me, old as he is; and if it is necessary I will go down myself. I’ve not been down for years now, but sooner than that scoundrel shall crow over me I’ll do all the diving myself.”

“There will be no necessity,” said Dutch, quickly.

“What do you mean?” exclaimed Mr Parkley.

“I will go with you myself,” said Dutch.

“What!” cried Mr Parkley, joyfully. “You? You go with me? My dear Pugh, I shall never forget this.”

He rose and grasped the young man’s hand with both of his own, and his face flushed with pleasure.

“Yes,” said Dutch, quietly, “I will go, and with old Rasp I think we can manage.”

“Manage!” cried Mr Parkley, “why, you are a host in yourself. But look here, my dear boy. Gentlemen, you will excuse us. Come on deck.”

He led the way, and Dutch followed him to the side of the schooner, where he took him by the button.

“I’m so grateful, Pugh,” he exclaimed, “you can’t think; but it won’t do. The business would be all right with another, but I can’t take you away.”

“Why not?” said Dutch, sharply.

“Your poor little wife, my boy, I could never look her in the face again.”

“For God’s sake don’t mention her,” cried Dutch, passionately. “There, there,” he cried, mastering himself, “you need not consider that.”

“But, my dear Pugh, are you not too hasty – too ready to believe? No, no, it won’t do, you misjudge her. I won’t let you go. In a few days all will be well again.”

“Parkley,” exclaimed Dutch, hoarsely, “it will never be all right again. I speak to you as I would speak to no other man. Heaven knows how I have loved that woman. But I have no home now. I shall never see her again.”

“No, no, no, don’t speak like that, my dear boy. You are too rush. Come, have patience, and all will be right. You shall not go.”

Dutch smiled bitterly.

“You are mad just now, but it will pass off; and look here, my dear boy, it was all my fault for getting you to take the cursed scoundrel in.”

“Don’t speak of it, pray,” cried Dutch.

“I must, my dear boy. Now, look here. After being guilty of one wrong to that poor little woman of yours, how can I do her another by taking her husband away?”

“I am no longer her husband, and she is no longer my wife,” said Dutch, sternly. “I tell you I shall go.”

“No, no; I will not let you.”

“I am your partner, and I shall insist upon it. Stay at home and let me take the lead in the expedition. You may trust me.”

“Better than I would myself,” said Mr Parkley, warmly.

“Then let me go. It will be a relief to me from the torture I have suffered these last weeks. Parkley, you cannot dream of what I have felt.”

“Do you really earnestly mean all this?” said Mr Parkley, gazing in the other’s troubled face.

“Mean it? Yes, it would be a real kindness.”

“Time cures all wounds,” said Mr Parkley, “so perhaps it will be best, and you will make arrangements for her while you are away.”

“She has the house,” said Dutch, bitterly, “and what money I have. I shall write to her mother to join her. Is that enough?”

Mr Parkley held out his hand, and the two men grasped each other’s for a moment, and then turned back to the cabin.

“Mr Pugh goes with us, Studwick; Rasp I know will come when he hears that Mr Pugh is with us.”

“Indeed,” said Dutch, “I should have thought not.”

“You’ll see,” said Mr Parkley, writing a few lines in his pocket-book and tearing off the leaf. “Now, then, about Rasp. Whom can we trust to take this ashore?”

“Let me go,” said Mr Meldon, the young doctor, “I will deliver it in safety.”

“You will?” cried Mr Parkley. “That’s well; but mind you don’t get tampered with, nor the man this is to fetch.”

Mr Meldon started, being rowed ashore in a boat they hailed. The captain was ready to suspect everyone now, but in an hour old Rasp come grumbling aboard, with a huge carpet bag, which dragged him into the boat in which he came off, and nearly pulled him back into it when he mounted the side.

“Oh, yes, I’ll go,” he said, as soon as he encountered his employers on the deck. “Hain’t got enough clean shirts, though. I allus thought that Tolly was good for nowt, and the forrener a bad un.”

“And now, Rasp, I want you to go ashore again for me,” said Dutch.

“I’ll take him with me,” said the captain, “and keep a sharp look-out. Mr Parkley is going too.”

“I don’t want no sharp look-outs,” said Rasp, gruffly. “I can take care o’ mysen’.”

Rasp’s mission was a simple one, namely, to purchase certain articles of outfit, for, with stern determination, the young man had set his face against revisiting his home. Moreover, as if distrustful of himself, he stayed on board, meaning to remain there for good.

The captain and mate both left for the shore, leaving Dutch in charge of the vessel, and so earnestly did they work that by nightfall they had secured six fresh men, and were hopeful of obtaining another half-dozen – all they required – by the following day.

The new-comers were of a rougher class than those who had been wiled away, but for all that they were sturdy, useful men, and, anxious as the leaders of the expedition were to start, it was no time for choosing.

That night, little thinking that every action in connection with the vessel had been closely watched with a powerful glass from the upper window of a house overlooking the estuary, Captain Studwick returned with the mate, taking the precaution to give the men plenty of liquor, and placing them under hatches for safety.

Rasp had long been back with the necessaries Dutch required, bringing with them a letter, which the young man read, tore to shreds, and then sent fluttering over the side; and at last the party, feeling hopeful of success on the morrow, retired for the night, saving such as had to keep watch.

The next day, however, brought no success; not a man of those unemployed could be induced to undertake the voyage, and to Captain Studwick’s great annoyance he found that by some means the whole business of the voyage had been turned into ridicule, and the men he addressed responded to his questions with a coarse burst of laughter. With the determination, then, of sailing the next morning with the crew he had, and putting in at Plymouth with the hope of obtaining more, he returned on board, and was in the act of relating his ill-success, when Oakum hailed a boat, pulled towards them by a couple of watermen, with half-a-dozen sailors in her stern.

It was growing dark, but those on deck could make out that the men had their long bolster-like kits with them, and the captain’s heart beat with joy as he heard, in answer to the hail, that the men had come from one of the sailors’ boarding-houses, having arrived there that afternoon.

“Simpson’s, on West Quay,” said one of the watermen. “He heerd you were looking out for hands, and he gave me this.”

He handed a up letter in which the boarding-house keeper asked for five pounds for securing the men and talking them into coming, and as the sailors came on deck, and proved quite willing to sign for the voyage, the money was paid and the boat pushed off.

They were not a handsome set of men, three being Englishmen, one a Dane, and the other two Lascars, one a long black-haired fellow, the other a short-haired, closely-shaven man, with a stoop, and a slight halt in one leg. He was nearly black, and did not look an attractive addition to the party; but the men declared he was an old ship-mate, and a good hand, evidently displaying an inclination, too, to refuse to go without him, so he was included.

“I think we can set our friend at defiance now,” said the captain, rubbing his hands as the men went below.

“I don’t know,” said Mr Parkley. “He’s one of those treacherous, cunning scoundrels that will steal a march on us when it is least expected. It’s a fine night, and not so very dark; the tide serves; so what do you say to dropping down at once, and putting a few miles of sea between us and our friend?”

“The very thing I should have proposed,” said the captain; “and, what’s more, I say make all sail for our port, in case our friend should charter a fresh vessel and be before us.”

“He would not get the divers.”

“No, perhaps not; but he might make up a party who could overhaul and plunder us. I shall not be happy till we are well on the way.”

“Good, then, let’s make our start. It will astonish Pugh when he comes up from his berth to find us full-handed and well on our way.”

“Is he lying down, then?” said the captain.

“Yes, I persuaded him to go, as he was the watch again to-night. The fellow is ill with worry and anxiety, and we can’t afford to have him knocked up. You’ll start, then, at once.”

“In a quarter of an hour or so,” said Captain Studwick. “Here’s a large barque coming up, and we may as well let her clear us first.”

Giving the word to the mate, the first half-dozen men were called up, and a couple of sails made ready for hoisting, so as to give steerage way, and the motions of the dimly-seen barque were watched.

“I don’t want her to run foul of us,” said the captain, “for if she did, I should be ready to swear that it was one of the Cuban’s plans.”

“Hardly,” replied Mr Parkley. “If any fresh hindrance is to come to us, it will be from the shore. If you take my advice, you will not let a boat approach the ship to-night.”

“I don’t mean to,” said the captain. “All right, she’ll give us a pretty good wide berth. Hallo! What’s that?” he said, crossing over to port.

“Boat from the shore, sir,” said one of the men; and at the same moment came a hail out of the darkness.

“Ahoy there! Heave us a rope.”

Oakum stepped forward, and was about to cast a rope down, when the captain stayed him.

“What is it?” he said sharply. “Keep off, or you may have something through your planks;” and as he spoke he peered down into the boat. “Here, Jones, keep a sharp look-out on the other side, and see that no boat comes up.”

“Is that Captain Studwick?” said a woman’s voice.

“Yes, and what then?” said the captain. “Now, it won’t do. The trick’s too clear. How many have you in that boat?”

“No one but myself,” replied the same voice. “Pray, pray let me come on board.”

“Who are you, and what do you want?” exclaimed the captain. “Quick! I’ve no time to waste.”

“Let her come on board,” cried Mr Parkley, hastily. “Don’t you know her?” he whispered; “it’s Mrs Pugh.” Then leaning over the side – “Hester, my child, is that you?”

“Yes,” was the hoarse reply. “Mr Parkley, for Heaven’s sake, take me on board.”

“There, I told you so,” exclaimed Mr Parkley; “let down the steps.”

“I tell you it’s some ruse of that cursed Cuban,” cried the captain, angrily. “If you give way we shall be stopped again. Keep that boat off below there.”

“No, no!” cried Mr Parkley. “Stop. Studwick, I take the responsibility on myself. Oakum, lower the steps, and throw that rope.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” said the old sailor. “Am I to do it?” he continued to the captain.

“Yes, if he wishes it,” was the testy reply; and then in a low voice he said to the mate, “Slip the hawser, and haul up the jib and staysail. I’m going to the wheel.”

His orders were rapidly executed, and the long, graceful vessel began almost imperceptibly to move through the water.

“If it is any trick,” said the captain, as he went aft to the man he had stationed at the wheel, “it shall take place at sea. What’s that?”

He turned back instantly, for at that moment what sounded like a slight scuffle was heard by the gangway he had left.

Story 1-Chapter XI.

In Bessy’s Cabin

So determined was Captain Studwick not to be lightly trifled with that a pistol was in his hand as he ran back to the side, but his alarm was unnecessary, for the scuffling noise was caused merely by Mr Parkley catching their visitor as she tottered and nearly fell on the deck.

“Let me see my husband, Mr Parkley,” she moaned, “for pity’s sake let me see my husband. If I saw him and spoke to him, he would listen to me.”

“But, my dear child,” began Mr Parkley.

“I shall die if I do not see him,” she moaned again. “I have been so ill – I have suffered so much, and this evening the news came that he was going away – away without seeing me. Oh, God, what have I done that I should suffer so!”

“My dear child – my dear Mrs Pugh.”

“I must see him – pray, pray take me to him,” she sobbed, “it is more than I can – more than I can bear.”

Mr Parkley caught her again just in time, for she swooned away, and laying her upon the deck he tried hard to restore her. Then looking up he became aware that the lights of the town were fast receding.

“Why, Studwick,” he exclaimed, “the schooner’s moving.”

“Yes,” said the captain.

“But the boat this poor girl came off in?”

“Ashore by this time.”

“But we can’t take her. Hang it, man, we cannot have domestic differences on board. She must go back.”

“We must now land her at Plymouth,” said the captain. “Send for my Bessy, man, she will soon bring her to. How foolish of the little woman to come aboard.”

“Shall I fetch the young lady, sir?” said Sam Oakum gruffly, as he stood with a look of disgust upon his face.

“Yes, for goodness’ sake, do. Quick!” exclaimed Mr Parkley, whose efforts to restore animation were all in vain.

Just as Sam went aft, though, Mrs Pugh began to revive, stared wildly about, and sitting up saw the captain bending over her.

“Captain Studwick,” she cried, catching his hand and drawing herself upon her knees to cling to him, “don’t send me back – don’t send me away. Let me go too. I could not bear to part from my husband like this. He is angry with me,” she whispered, “I cannot tell you why, but he has not spoken to me for days, and I have been so – so ill.”

“Yes, yes, you shall see him, my dear, but stand up. You must not make a scene.”

“Oh no,” she exclaimed, rising hastily, “I will do anything you say, only let me see him and explain. Let me go with, you. If I could talk to him he would believe me, and all would be well again. If not,” she said with a hysterical cry, “I shall go mad – I shall go mad.”

“Come, let me take you below,” said the captain, for she was clinging tightly to his arm.

“Yes, yes,” whispered the poor trembling woman. “I could not help that; I am trying so hard to be calm, but my poor breast is so care-laden that a cry would escape. Let me go with you, Captain Studwick. I will be so quiet – so careful.”

“It is impossible, my dear child,” he said in a husky voice, for her agony affected him.

“No, no, don’t say that; I will help Bessy nurse your poor son. She loves me, and believes in me, and I will give no trouble. If you set me ashore I shall die of grief. I cannot live to be separated from my husband – for him to leave me like this.”

“Well, well, well, I’ll see what I can do,” said the captain in the quieting way that one would speak to a child; but she peered instantly into his face.

“You are deceiving me,” she cried. “You are trying to calm me with promises, and you mean to set me ashore. Mr Parkley,” she wailed, turning to him, “you know me, and believe in me: you know the cause of this trouble. Take me to my dear husband, and help me to drive away this horrible belief of his, or I shall die.”

“My dear child – my dear child,” he said, drawing her to him, “I will try all I can.”

“But you will set me ashore again when I strove so hard to get to him. I was so ill in bed, and he has not been near me. I found out that you were taking Dutch from me, and I could not stay. Let me see him – oh, let me see him!”

“You shall, my dear, as soon as you are calm.”

“But he is here,” she whispered, not daring to raise her voice lest, in her excited state, it should get the mastery over her, and she should burst forth in hysterical wails.

“Yes, my child, he is here. He is asleep below.”

“Poor Dutch!” she whispered to herself; and then with a faint, weary smile she laid her hands in those of her old friend. “There, you can see how calm and patient I will be,” she continued. “No one shall suspect any trouble. I will be so quiet and patient, and if he will not listen to me, I will not complain, so long as I am near him – only wait till God changes his heart towards me.”

“There, then, you shall stay – till we get to Plymouth,” exclaimed Mr Parkley, hastily passing his hand across his eyes. “Don’t let the men see that anything’s the matter, my dear.”

“No: oh, no,” she replied. “I’m quite calm now. Ah, here’s Miss Studwick.”

“You here, Mrs Pugh!” exclaimed the captain’s daughter, who believed that she was coming to her father.