The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane

I own I was greatly perplexed over this matter, and more than once I was on the point of revealing the conspiracy to him; for I felt that, if he were murdered, I should, in a manner, have his blood upon my conscience; but as many times was I deterred from this confession by recalling my oath to Rodrigues, and by a certain sense of honor which may exist even amongst such rogues as we were. And so I was terribly put to it all the time we lay at Punto de Gallo, revictualing and making the final preparations for going up the Orinoco.

We lay off Punto de Gallo three days, and the men of both ships mingling, Ned Parsons and Rodrigues found occasion to lay their heads together pretty frequently; and this boded me no good, for Parsons had ever kept a jealous and suspicious watch upon my movements, and must have perceived my growing love for our captain. On the evening of the third day, we three being ashore together, and come to a spot free from observation, Rodrigues says:

"If this breeze holds, we are likely to sail to-morrow; and as we may not get another chance of conversing privily, let us settle what's to be done, and how we are to do it when we are aboard."

"Ay, we've had enough shill-I-shall-I," says Parsons, in his surly tone.

"We should have been further off from success if we had gone a shorter way to work, Ned," said Rodrigues, "as you know well enough, though you won't own to it. If we had followed your advice and thrown the captain overboard when we left the Canaries, half the men would have been against us, and looked upon the first storm that came as a judgment upon us. It's no good setting men to a task before they're prepared for it. Now there's not a man aboard the Adventurer who is not thirsting to get at the Spaniard."

"You've had them all to yourself; but it's another matter aboard the Sure Hawk," says Parsons; "there's a score of half-hearted fellows amongst us that were better at home."

"That's as you think, Ned. What say you, Pengilly?"

"The men's hearts are as stout as ours," says I; "and as ready to meet the Spaniard as any of your crew. I'll answer for them."

"Perhaps you'll answering for their flinging the captain overboard when the time comes?" says Parsons, with a sneer.

"I'll answer for you, Parsons, if there's a cowardly murder to be done; but for no one on board the Sure Hawk," says I. "I warn you, Rodrigues, that if you attempt the life of Sir Harry, you'll have a score of us to settle with, him and Benet Pengilly among the number."

"There, didn't I tell you as much?" says Parsons, nudging Rodrigues.

Rodrigues frowned on him to be still, and turning to me, says, calmly —

"What do you mean by that, Pengilly?"

"I mean this: our captain shall not be murdered," says I.

"And how can you prevent it, pray?" asks Parsons.

"There'll be plenty of time to warn him before you can silence me, Parsons."

"Didn't he swear secrecy by the cross, Rodrigues?"

"Yes, I did," says I; "but I'll break my oath rather than have murder on my conscience!"

"Conscience! How long have you been troubled with that commodity?" asks he.

"Fool! you be still," cries Rodrigues, stamping his foot. "Haven't you sense enough to see that Pengilly's warning saves us from the very thing that I have dreaded all through? I know the mischief of having discontented men in a crew."

"Settle it how you will," says Parsons with an oath, getting up and turning his back on us. "Curse this dodging backwards and forwards, say I!"

"If the captain were out of the way, and you took his place, as lawful representative of your uncle, the men would do your bidding, wouldn't they, Benet?" said Rodrigues in a friendly tone.

"No doubt," says I; "but I will not have any hand in this business if violence is to be done to Sir Harry."

"Then what do you propose we should do?" asks he.

"He lies ashore to-night: why shouldn't we sail without him?"

"That's better than ever!" cries Parsons, turning round. "Leave him here to send a king's ship after us. A plaguey good notion, that," and he burst out into a horse-laugh.

"That won't do, Ben," says Rodrigues; "as Ned says, we should have a man-of-war sent after us, and so have to fight English as well as Spaniards. I think I can offer something better than that"; and drawing me aside that Parsons might not hear, he dropped his voice and said: "Supposing, when we are out at sea, we tell the captain our determination to go roving, and ask him to join us?"

"He will refuse: that's certain."

"Very well; then let us give him one of the ships and let him go with as many of the men as choose to join him. What say you to that?"

I agreed to this readily; for it seemed a better way out of the mess than any I had imagined.

"Good," says he; "so shall it be. Now, leave me alone with Parsons. He is a self-willed, headstrong fellow; but I know how to manage him, and I promise you I will make him hear reason."

So I left them, never dreaming but that Rodrigues, for his own interest, was dealing fairly in this business, and speaking his mind honestly.

That night our captain brought aboard an Indian Cazique named Putijma for our pilot. This man told us that the true mouth of the Oronoque and the best for us to enter was in the Boca de Nairos, and about thirty leagues south of Punto de Gallo; and thither it was agreed, the breeze remaining prosperous, we should sail the next day.

When this news was imparted to our company there was a great cheer, and every man set to with a will getting the ship ready that she might sail at daybreak; and the sky being very fair and clear they worked all night to this end, and there was such bustle of men coming on board, shouting of orders, and getting things in their places, that no sleep was to be got.

A little before daybreak I turned out of my cot, and, going on deck, found that some were already aloft shaking out the sails, while others were heaving up the anchor, and all singing of sea songs, and as merry as any grigs. Ere yet the sun had risen our sails filled; we left our anchorage, and, looking out, I spied the Adventurer, her sails spread, following pretty close in our wake. Then, the light growing amain, I perceived one strange face amongst our company, and then another, and after that a third and fourth, and so on, till I numbered a full dozen; yet these men were not so strange to me but that I recognized them as being part of the crew of the Adventurer. Upon this, suspecting mischief, I cast my eye about for those men whom I have spoken of as being stanch and loyal to our captain, and not one of these could I find. In this I saw clearly the villainy of that subtle Rodrigues, who, by thus shifting the crew, ensured his plan against opposition, for not one man now on board the Sure Hawk could be counted on to side with the captain in going to Guiana, whereas all would readily agree to ridding themselves of him in order that they might follow their own lawless bent uninterrupted; meanwhile, by his own persuasion and the influence of the rascally crew on the Adventurer, those simple fellows from the Sure Hawk who still held to an honest course could be easily won over to his purpose. To make sure that the change on board was not due to accident, I sought out Ned Parsons; but the rascal, seeing me coming, feigned to be mightily busy, so that I could not get a word out of him in any way, which served to convince me of his treachery. Getting no satisfaction from him, I went into my cabin, and there, sitting on my cot, I turned the matter over in my mind, and, after looking at it this way and that, I resolved I would go and warn Sir Harry of his danger; for, as I told Rodrigues, I was prepared to break any number of oaths rather than be a party to a foul murder. And, lest I should be credited with more generosity in coming to this decision than I deserve, I will here confess that I was not unmindful of my own peril. For, if it served the purpose of these desperadoes to throw our captain overboard, why should they spare me? I laid no faith whatever in the promises of Rodrigues; nay, I was inclined to believe Ned Parsons the honester rogue of the two. I knew that all he considered was how to advance his own fortune. Had the crew been more difficult to seduce and less disposed to become pirates, then it would have served his turn to carry out his original project, and give the enterprise a fair face by appointing me, as nephew of Sir Bartlemy Pengilly, their generalissimo; but now that it was clear the whole body of men needed no such countenance to their project, it would be expedient to get rid of me as well as Sir Harry. So to the captain, who still lay in the cabin, I went, and asked him if he knew of the change that had been made.

"Ay, Pengilly," says he cheerfully; "I ordered it so. Parsons tells me there is a lawless spirit spreading amongst the men on the Adventurer, and he picked out certain of them as being the worst. These Rodrigues begged me to take with us in the Sure Hawk in exchange for those he thought might bring the rest to a healthier way of thinking on the Adventurer."

"That villain, Rodrigues!" I exclaimed. "I saw his devilish hand in this. We are lost!"

"Lost? What do you mean by that?" asks Sir Harry, bating his breath.

"I mean that you have parted with the only honest men in the crew, and have none but ruffians left about you."

"Nay, you wrong them. Desperate they are, for who but desperate men would dare a desperate enterprise? But they are honest – I'll answer for 'em. They have sworn to follow me, and they will."

"You will be lucky to get away without such followers," says I; "but, in truth, I doubt if we do ever set foot again on dry land."

Sir Harry could not speak awhile for astonishment. At length he says, speaking low:

"Are you sure of this you tell me, Pengilly? Are you honest with me?"

"I'll say nothing for my honesty," says I; "but I'll swear to the truth to what I tell you. There's not a man but is already a pirate at heart; and they only want a signal from Rodrigues to kill us and hoist the bloody flag."

Sir Harry started up, and took a pace or two across the cabin; then, coming to a stand, he turns and says:

"No, Pengilly; I can't believe this. Tell me you have tried to fool me, and I'll forgive you."

"Nay, but you must believe," says I, "or you can not escape else"; and then I laid bare all that I knew, with my own share in the villainous scheme, not sparing myself the shame of this confession. He listened to me patiently, but when I came to an end he says, with passion:

"God forgive you, Pengilly! for my ruin is on your head."

But presently growing calmer, for I made no attempt to defend myself from this charge, he adds:

"Take no heed of what I said, Benet. You have done no more nor less than I, or a better man than I, could have done in your place. You risk your life in trying to save mine, whereas you might have made your fortune (though I doubt if you could ever have enjoyed it) by betraying me."

"He held out his hand, and I took it. Then in a more cheerfull and vigorous tone, he says:

"Come, we are both in the same pickle; let us see how, perchance, we may get out of it."

Then we set our wits to work that we might discover how we two were to overcome the craft and force of all those hardy villains that was against us. I was for knocking Parsons on the head, taking the navigation in our own hands, running the ship ashore, or on the first shoal we came to; and I think Sir Harry would have acted on this design, but that it pleased Providence to give us no chance that way.

CHAPTER VIII

WE ARE OVERCOME, AND WITH BARBAROUS TREATMENT SET ASHORE AND LEFT THERE

Of a truth none are so suspicious as those who should be suspected, and losing sight of this fact was our undoing.

To begin with 'twas a silly thing to go into the captain's cabin at that time; it was still more imprudent to sit there with him discussing our means of escape. For it happened that Ned Parsons, seeing me no longer inquisitive about the shifting of the crews, became curious to know what had become of me, and presently sighted me sitting, as I say, with Sir Harry. Doubtless Rodrigues, in his place, would have taken some crafty means of discovering our design and circumventing it; but this Parsons was of another kidney, and prone to reflect upon the advisability of his actions after they were performed rather than before. Wherefore, at the first sniff of danger, he goes below, collects a dozen choice rogues, and having gone into the armory and furnished themselves with weapons, they slipped on deck, and in a twinkling rushed into the roundhouse and fell upon us. We were the less prepared for this attack because the fellows, having no shoes to their feet, came on noiselessly along the deck; and indeed, from the moment we first spied them to the time they were in the coach, there was barely time for Sir Harry to catch up a short sword for his defence, and I a spyglass that lay on the table. Sir Harry ran the first of the party through the vitals, and I managed to lay Ned Parsons' head open with the spyglass; but we could do no more, for we were thrown down by sheer force of weight and numbers, and after that our bootless struggles did not prolong by a few minutes the work of binding us hand and foot. From these bonds there was no escaping; Ned Parsons himself, with the blood yet trickling down his face and grizzled beard, making fast each knot and testing its security. When this was done, he went out to the main deck and spoke to the men crowded there, and they replied with a great cheer, and so betook themselves to their work, shouting and talking among themselves with much content. But to make more sure of us, and that all might see we were not contriving our escape, this Ned Parsons hauled us out of the roundhouse into the midst of the deck, and there we lay in the burning sun all day, and none had the humanity to give us meat or drink, though they for the most part made themselves as drunk as beggars by midday. Nay, when Sir Harry, who had been as kind to these wretches as any man could be, asked one to give him a cup of water, the villain would not, but replied, with a brutal laugh, that he should have more water than he could drink at sundown, by which cruel speech we preceived that our fate was sealed, and that they only awaited the occasion of Rodrigues' coming on board to cast us into the sea.

The breeze continuing very fresh, we pressed onward; but towards evening the wind abated, as it does in these latitudes about sundown, the sails flapped against the mast, and the anchor was dropped.

Soon after this Rodrigues came abroad, and first he consulted with Parsons, who had contrived to keep more sober than the rest; then they held a council with all the men in the fore part of the ship, after which Rodrigues comes to us, with his hat in his hand, as civil as may be, and with a wicked smile on his face that showed all his pointed teeth, so that with his hypocritical air he did look more like a fiend than a man.

"Gentlemen," says he, "I am sorry to tell you we must part. The men, one and all, have resolved to seek their fortunes elsewhere than in Guiana, and lest their design should be distasteful to you and lead to any further breaking of heads or spitting with steel, they would have me, as being now chief in command, drop you overboard with a shot tied round your necks. I have done my best to alter their disposition, but the most they will consent to in your favor is that you shall be allowed to go your way in consideration of your giving them free permission to go theirs, with a solemn promise on your part that you will hereafter do nothing, if you have the chance, to bring us to the gallows."

"Do with us what you will," answers Sir Harry.

"Ay, and be cursed for the villain you are," adds I.

"As you do not refuse the offer it is my duty to make, I shall hold it you accept," says Rodrigues, taking no notice of me; "betwixt gentlemen no formalities are needed. It is understood that in accepting your life you agree to the conditions, and this understanding will be as binding on you to do us no harm – if, as I say, you get the chance – as though you had put hand and seal to a bond."

Then making us a bow, he went back to the men, who, on hearing what he had to say, gave another cheer, and some set about lowering Sir Harry's own barge, while others went below and fetched up all manner of stores to put in it. All being in readiness, we were taken to the side of the ship, bound as we were, and with a rope reeved through a block at the yard-arm, we were hauled up and lowered like cattle into the barge that lay alongside. For the first time we perceived that the land was distant no more than half a mile or so. After us the Indian Cazique Putijma, whom, as I have said, Sir Harry had brought abroad at Punto de Gallo for a pilot, was made to come down in the barge, and then half a dozen seamen in that boat that had brought Rodrigues from the Adventurer towed us with a line to the shore, the crew giving us a jeer as we sheered off, and Rodrigues (with a bow) wishing we might have a pleasant journey to Manoa, and find a kind reception and store of gold there.

Having brought us to land and made our barge fast, the boat's crew, with somewhat more humanity than their fellows, bade us good-bye and god-speed, and then pulled off quickly back towards their ship, for there was no moon that night, and it was now grown so dark that we could but just descry the two ships lying off in the bay.

All this time Putijma, who was unbound, had sat in the barge with his knees up to his chin in profound silence; for such is the stoic character of these Indians when overcome by misfortune from which they see no escape. But now Sir Harry, who spoke Spanish, addressed him in that tongue, begging him to cut our cords, and this he did; but it was yet some minutes ere either of us could move, so benumbed and stiff were we with our long confinement. When I got the use of my limbs and hands, I drew a dram of liquor from the puncheon among our stores, and gave it to Sir Harry, who was thereby much refreshed. Then did we get out of the boat to exercise our legs, and finding the sand still warm and pleasant with the sun's heat, we lay ourselves down to sleep, there being no better thing to do. But first I got from the boat a couple of muskets, with powder and ball, and two hatchets, that we might not be unprovided against the attack of wild beasts or cannibals in the night if any such there might come upon us.

But Putijma never stirred out of the boat, nor could Sir Harry any way cheer him out of his despondent mood; and the last I saw of him he was still sitting with his knees huddled up to his chin, and so we presently fell asleep.

We slept soundly, and nothing disturbed our slumber all through that night. The sun was some degrees above the horizon when I awoke, and a smart breeze ruffling the sea. Sitting up I looked out for the ships, but they were no longer in the bay; yet methought I spied one sail on the horizon to the south. Then I got upon my feet and looked for the barge and the Indian Cazique, but trace or sign of either could I see none. I rubbed my eyes and looked again; then I ran a hundred yards along the shore eastward, and again as far to the west; for I could not at once realize that this man was treacherous to us. But 'twas all in vain; he was nowhere to be seen. So I roused up Sir Harry, telling him how the Indian had played us false and gone away with the boat, which was our only means of getting back to Trinidad, and like distracted creatures we ran along the shore a mile one way and a mile the other, hallooing aloud, as trying to cheat ourselves with the hope of that Putijma had slipped away by accident, and drifted into some creek. But at length we gave up the quest, and stood gazing before us as still and silent as statues of stone, quite overwhelmed by this last stroke of misfortune.

And thus were we two poor men abandoned on an unknown coast. I say we two poor men, for now were we leveled to the same degree by a cruel fate, being possessed of no more than a gun and a hatchet apiece besides the clothes we stood in, and with the same dismal expectation of perishing unfriended in a wilderness.

CHAPTER IX

WE FIND OURSELVES ON A DESERT ISLAND, AND LITTLE COMFORT BESIDES

After a while we returned to the place where we lay during the night; and, looking about us, found that the cruel Cazique had taken away the keg of powder, the puncheon of rum, ay, the very bread we had brought for our refreshment on landing; thus robbing us of our present subsistence and the means of procuring other.

Seeing this, Sir Harry threw himself on the sand and sobbed out aloud; for as yet he had suffered never any hardship or disappointment. But it was otherwise with me, for many a time had I endured privation and known no hope. Yet did it move my heart to see a strong man, and one naturally light of heart, gay, and of high spirit, so abased; so I sat down beside him, and, laying my hand on his shoulder, spoke such comforting words as my tongue, unused to such exercise, could command. And this may seem strange, seeing that hitherto I had borne him no love, but rather jealousy and hatred. But you shall notice that misfortune doth engender kindness in hearts the least susceptible, so that a man who would jostle another and show no manner of kindness and civility, both being strong, would yet bend down and gently succor him who fell across his path from weakness; for our sympathy is with those weaker than ourselves, and not with those of equal hardiness; and this, I take it, is the reason of the great love of strong men for weak women, and the wondrous tenderness of women for those cast down by sickness.

Sir Harry would not be comforted; but shaking my hand from his shoulder he cries:

"'Tis easy to bear the misfortunes of other people!"

"Nay," says I, "am I better off than you?"

"Ay," says he, "for you have but changed one form of misery for another. These woods for you are as good as those you left in Cornwall. Your prospects here as good as they were there. But I! what have I not lost by this change! All my fortune was embarked in those ships; and with them I lose every hope – fame and riches – my sweetheart. All! all! What now have I?"

"The hope of getting away from this place; the hope that – that she may wait faithfully your return."

"And what if, by a miracle, I get from here, can I hope to recover my fortune? I must go a beggar back to England; nay, a debtor for the ships of Sir Bartlemy that I have lost. And think you if my sweetheart in pity would make me her husband, I would be her pensioner, dependent on her bounty for the bread I eat?"

To me this seemed an overstraining of sentiment; for I would have been content to take that dear girl for my wife, rich or poor; nay, I could not believe that any sense of dependence or bounty could exist in the union of two who love entirely. But I would not contrary him by speaking of this, which he would but have set down to want of decent pride and self-respect on my side.

"There is no hope – no hope!" he continues, bitterly. "I am undone by my enemies, and you are one of them – a man I have sought only to help – a base wretch who would not speak a word to save me from my undoing."

I held my peace, as I had before, when he spoke after this sort. For partly I felt that I deserved reproach, and partly I saw that he was beside himself with despair. So I let him be that he might vent freely all his passion. But he said no more; and for some while he lay there like one who cared not to move again. Then getting upon his feet savagely, as though ashamed of his weakness, he says:

"Let us go from this cursed spot." Then, looking about him in bewilderment, "Where shall we go?"

Be a man never so wretched he must eat and drink; so I told him we must first of all seek a stream to quench our thirst; and the land to the west looking most promising, I settled to explore in that direction; Sir Harry being indifferent so that we got away from this unlucky place where we had been set ashore. We took up our axes and muskets – which the thieving Cazique had left to us because they lay under our hands, as I may say, and he feared to awake us – and marched onwards, keeping to the sand, which was very level and firm, the tide being at low ebb. We kept on this way for best part of a league, and then the shore becoming soft with a kind of black mud, we were forced to seek higher ground; and here our progress was made very painful and slow by reason of the scrubby growth, which was mighty thick and prickly, so that we were torn at every step. To add to our discomfort, the sun, being now high, shone with prodigious heat upon us, and parched us with thirst. There were woods at hand, but here the thorny bush was so high and closely interwoven that we had to use our hatchets to make any way at all, and then were we no better off, but worse; wherefore we were obliged to return to that part where the earth was less encumbered. Some of these brambles had thorns two inches long, and curved like great claws; and one of these tearing my leg gave me much torment. As the sun rose higher, so our suffering increased, until, after marching best part of two hours, we were ready to drop with fatigue. Fruit there was in abundance, spread out temptingly under our feet; for nearly every bush bore some sort of apples or grapes; yet dared we not eat any for fear of its being venomous. Of this venomous fruit I had heard the seamen who had traveled in these parts tell, and how a man eating of it will presently go raving mad; and I pointed out to Sir Harry, who would fain have slaked his thirst with this growth, that we had as yet seen neither bird nor beast, which argued that this food was not wholesome.