_Shallow._ Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound?
_Evans._ Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny.
_Shallow._ I know the young gentlewoman; she has good gifts.
_Evans._ Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is good gifts.
Shakspeare.
As for Spike, he had no intention of going to the southward of the
Florida Reef again until his business called him there. The lost bag
of doubloons was still gleaming before his imagination, and no
sooner did the Poughkeepsie bear up, than he shortened sail,
standing back and forth in his narrow and crooked channel, rather
losing ground than gaining, though he took great pains not to let
his artifice be seen. When the Poughkeepsie was so far to the
northward as to render it safe, he took in everything but one or two
of his lowest sails, and followed easily in the same direction. As
the sloop-of-war carried her light and loftier sails, she remained
visible to the people of the Swash long after the Swash had ceased
to be visible to her. Profiting by this circumstance, Spike entered
the main channel again some time before it was dark, and selected a
safe anchorage there that was well known to him; a spot where
sufficient sand had collected on the coral to make good holding
ground, and where a vessel would be nearly embayed, though always to
windward of her channel going out, by the formation of the reef.
Here he anchored, in order to wait until morning ere he ventured
further north. During the whole of that dreadful day, Rose had
remained in her cabin, disconsolate, nearly unable, as she was
absolutely unwilling to converse. Now it was that she felt the total
insufficiency of a mind feeble as that of her aunt's to administer
consolation to misery like her own. Nevertheless, the affectionate
solicitude of Mrs. Budd, as well as that of the faithful creature,
Biddy, brought some relief, and reason and resignation began slowly
to resume their influence. Yet was the horrible picture of Harry,
dying by inches, deserted in the midst of the waters on his solitary
rock, ever present to her thoughts, until, once or twice, her
feelings verged on madness. Prayer brought its customary relief,
however; and we do not think that we much exaggerate the fact, when
we say that Rose passed fully one-half of that terrible afternoon on
her knees.
As for Jack Tier, he was received on board the brig much as if
nothing had happened. Spike passed and repassed him fifty times,
without even an angry look, or a word of abuse; and the
deputy-steward dropped quietly into the duties of his office,
without meeting with either reproach or hindrance. The only
allusion, indeed, that was made to his recent adventures, took place
in a conversation that was held on the subject in the galley, the
interlocutors being Jack himself, Josh, the steward, and Simon, the
cook.
"Where you been scullin' to, 'bout on dat reef, Jack, wid dem' ere
women, I won'er now?" demanded Josh, after tasting the cabin soup,
in order to ascertain how near it was to being done. "It'ink it no
great fun to dodge 'bout among dem rock in a boat, for anudder
hurricane might come when a body least expeck him."
"Oh," said Jack, cavalierly, "two hurricanes no more come in one
month, than two shot in the same hole. We've been turtlin', that's
all. I wish we had in your coppers, cook, some of the critturs that
we fell in with in our cruise."
"Wish'e had, master steward, wid all my heart," answered the fat,
glistening potentate of the galley. "But, hark'ee, Jack; what became
of our young mate, can 'e tell? Some say he get kill at'e Dry
Tortugas, and some say he war' scullin' round in dat boat you hab,
wid'e young woman, eh?"
"Ah, boys," answered Jack, mournfully, "sure enough, what _has_
become of him?"
"You know, why can't you tell? What good to hab secret among
friend."
"_Are_ ye his friends, lads? Do you really feel as if you could give
a poor soul in its agony a helpin' hand?"
"Why not?" said Josh, in a reproachful way. "Misser Mulford'e bess
mate dis brig ebber get; and I don't see why Cap'in Spike-want to be
rid of him."
"Because he's a willian!" returned Jack between his grated teeth.
"D'ye know what that means in English, master Josh; and can you and
cook here, both of whom have sailed with the man years in and years
out, say whether my words be true or not?"
"Dat as a body understand 'em. Accordin' to some rule, Stephen Spike
not a werry honest man; but accordin' to 'nudder some, he as good as
any body else."
"Yes, dat just be upshot of de matter," put in Simon, approvingly.
"De whole case lie in dat meanin'."
"D'ye call it right to leave a human being to starve, or to suffer
for water, on a naked rock, in the midst of the ocean?"
"Who do dat?"
"The willian who is captain of this brig; and all because he thinks
young eyes and bloomin' cheeks prefar young eyes and bloomin' cheeks
to his own grizzly beard and old look-outs."
"Dat bad; dat werry bad," said Josh, shaking his head, a way of
denoting dissatisfaction, in which Simon joined him; for no crime
appeared sufficiently grave in the eyes of these two sleek and
well-fed officials to justify such a punishment. "Dat mons'ous bad,
and cap'in ought to know better dan do _dat_. I nebber starves a
mouse, if I catches him in de bread-locker. Now, dat a sort of
reason'ble punishment, too; but I nebber does it. If mouse eat my
bread, it do seem right to tell mouse dat he hab enough, and dat he
must not eat any more for a week, or a mont', but it too cruel for
me, and I nebber does it; no, I t'rows de little debil overboard,
and lets him drown like a gentle'em."
"Y-e-s," drawled out Simon, in a philanthropical tone of voice,
"dat'e best way. What good it do to torment a fellow critter? If
Misser Mulford run, why put him down run, and let him go, I say,
on'y mulk his wages; but what good it do anybody to starve him? Now
dis is my opinion, gentle'em, and dat is, dat starwation be wuss dan
choleric. Choleric kill, I knows, and so does starwation kill; but
of de two, gib me de choleric fuss; if I gets well of dat, den try
starwation if you can."
"I'm glad to hear you talk in this manner, my hearties," put in
Jack; "and I hope I may find you accommodatin' in a plan I've got to
help the maty out of this difficulty. As a friend of Stephen Spike's
I would do it; for it must be a terrible thing to die with such a
murder on one's soul. Here's the boat that we pick'd up at the
light-house, yonder, in tow of the brig at this minute; and there's
everything in her comfortable for a good long run, as I know from
having sailed in her; and what I mean is this: as we left Mr.
Mulford, I took the bearings and distance of the rock he was on,
d'ye understand, and think I could find my way back to it. You see
the brig is travelin' slowly north ag'in, and afore long we shall be
in the neighbourhood of that very rock. We, cook and stewards, will
be called on to keep an anchor-watch, if the brig fetches up, as I
heard the captain tell the Spanish gentleman he thought she would;
and then we can take the boat that's in the water and go and have a
hunt for the maty."
The two blacks looked at Tier earnestly; then they turned their
heads to look at each other. The idea struck each as bold and novel,
but each saw serious difficulties in it. At length Josh, as became
his superior station, took on himself the office of expressing the
objections that occurred to his mind.
"Dat nebber do!" exclaimed the steward. "We be's quite willin' to
sarve'e mate, who's a good gentle'em, and as nice a young man as
ever sung out, `hard a-lee," but we must t'ink little bit of number
one; or, for dat matter, of number two, as Simon would be
implercated as well as myself. If Cap'in Spike once knew we've lent
a hand in sich a job, he'd never overlook it. I knows him, _well;_
and that is sayin' as much as need be said of any man's character.
You nebber catch _me_ runnin' myself into his jaws; would rather
fight a shark widout any knife. No, no--I knows him _well_. Den
comes anudder werry unanswerable objecsh'un, and dat is, dat'e brig
owe bot' Simon and I money. Fifty dollars, each on us, if she owe
one cent. Now, do you t'ink in cander, Jack, dat two colour'
gentle'em, like us, can t'row away our fortins like two sons of a
York merchant dat has inherited a hundred t'ousand dollar tudder
day?"
"There is no occasion for running at all, or for losing your wages."
"How you get'e mate off, den? Can he walk away on de water? If so,
let him go widout us. A werry good gentle'em is Misser Mulford, but
not good enough to mulk Simon and me out of fifty dollar each."
"You will not hear my project, Josh, and so will never know what I
would be at."
"Well, come, tell him jest as you surposes him. Now listen, Simon,
so dat not a word be loss."
"My plan is to take the boat, if we anchor, as anchor I know we
shall, and go and find the rock and bring Mr. Mulford off; then we
can come back to the brig, and get on board ourselves, and let the
mate sail away in the boat by himself. On this plan nobody will run,
and no wages be mulcted."
"But dat take time and an anchor-watch last but two hour, surposin'
even dat'ey puts all t'ree of us in de same watch."
"Spike usually does that, you know. `Let the cook and the stewards
keep the midnight watch,' he commonly says, `and that will give the
foremost hands a better snooze."'
"Yes, he do say _dat,_ Josh," put in Simon, "most ebbery time we
comes-to."
"I know he does, and surposes he will say it to-night, if he
comes-to to-night. But a two hour watch may not be long enough to do
all you wants; and den, jest t'ink for a moment, should 'e cap'in
come on deck and hail'e forecastle, and find us all gone, I wouldn't
be in your skin, Jack, for dis brig, in sich a kerlamity. I knows
Cap'in Spike well; t'ree time I endebber to run myself, and each
time he bring me up wid a round turn; so, now-a-days, I nebber
t'inks of sich a projeck any longer."
"But I do not intend to leave the forecastle without some one on it
to answer a hail. No, all I want is a companion; for I do not like
to go out on the reef at midnight, all alone. If one of you will go
with me, the other can stay and answer the captain's hail, should he
really come on deck in our watch--a thing very little likely to
happen. When once his head is on his pillow, a'ter a hard day's
work, it's not very apt to be lifted ag'in without a call, or a
squall. If you do know Stephen Spike _well,_ Josh, I know him
better."
"Well, Jack, dis here is a new idee, d'ye see, and a body must take
time to consider on it. If Simon and I do ship for dis v'y'ge, 't
will be for lub of Mr. Mulford, and not for _his_ money or
_your'n"_.
This was all the encouragement of his project Jack Tier could
obtain, on that occasion, from either his brother steward, or from
the cook. These blacks were well enough disposed to rescue an
innocent and unoffending man from the atrocious death to which Spike
had condemned his mate, but neither lost sight of his own security
and interest. They promised Tier not to betray him, however; and he
had the fullest confidence in their pledges. They who live together
in common, usually understand the feeling that prevails, on any
given point, in their own set; and Jack felt pretty certain that
Harry was a greater favourite in and about the camboose than the
captain. On that feeling he relied, and he was fain to wait the
course of events, ere he came to any absolute conclusion as to his
own course.
The interview in the galley took place about half an hour before the
brig anchored for the night. Tier, who often assisted on such
occasions, went aloft to help secure the royal, one of the gaskets
of which had got loose, and from the yard he had an excellent
opportunity to take a look at the reef, the situation of the vessel,
and the probable bearings of the rock on which poor Mulford had been
devoted to a miserable death. This opportunity was much increased by
Spike's hailing him, while on the yard, and ordering him to take a
good look at the sloop-of-war, and at the same time to ascertain if
any boats were "prowlin' about, in order to make a set upon us in
the night." On receiving this welcome order, Jack answered with a
cheerful "Ay, ay, sir," and standing up on the yard, he placed an
arm around the mast, and remained for a long time making his
observations. The command to look-out for boats would have been a
sufficient excuse had he continued on the yard as long as it was
light.
Jack had no difficulty in finding the Poughkeepsie, which was
already through the passage, and no longer visible from the deck.
She appeared to be standing to the northward and westward, under
easy canvas, like a craft that was in no hurry. This fact was
communicated to Spike in the usual way. The latter seemed pleased,
and he answered in a hearty manner, just as if no difficulty had
ever occurred between him and the steward's assistant.
"Very well, Jack! bravo, Jack!--now take a good look for boats;
you'll have light enough for that this half hour," cried the
captain. "If any are out, you'll find them pulling down the channel,
or maybe they'll try to shorten the cut, by attempting to pull
athwart the reef. Take a good and steady look for them, my man."
"Ay, ay, sir; I'll do all I can with naked eyes," answered Jack,
"but I could do better, sir, if they would only send me up a glass
by these here signal-halyards. With a glass, a fellow might speak
with some sartainty."
Spike seemed struck with the truth of this suggestion; and he soon
sent a glass aloft by the signal-halyards. Thus provided, Jack
descended as low as the cross-trees, where he took his seat, and
began a survey at his leisure. While thus employed, the brig was
secured for the night, her decks were cleared, and the people were
ordered to get their suppers, previously to setting an anchor-watch,
and turning-in for the night. No one heeded the movements of
Tier,--for Spike had gone into his own state-room,--with the
exception of Josh and Simon. Those two worthies were still in the
galley, conversing on the subject of Jack's recent communications;
and ever and anon one of them would stick his head out of the door
and look aloft, withdrawing it, and shaking it significantly, as
soon as his observations were ended.
As for Tier, he was seated quite at his ease; and having slung his
glass to one of the shrouds, in a way to admit of its being turned
as on a pivot, he had every opportunity for observing accurately,
and at his leisure. The first thing Jack did, was to examine the
channel very closely, in order to make sure that no boats were in
it, after which he turned the glass with great eagerness toward the
reef, in the almost hopeless office of ascertaining something
concerning Mulford. In point of fact, the brig had anchored quite
three leagues from the solitary rock of the deserted mate, and,
favoured as he was by his elevation, Jack could hardly expect to
discern so small and low an object as that rock at so great a
distance. Nevertheless, the glass was much better than common. It
had been a present to Spike from one who was careful in his
selections of such objects, and who had accidentally been under a
serious obligation to the captain. Knowing the importance of a good
look, as regards the boats, Spike had brought this particular
instrument, of which, in common, he was very chary, from his own
state-room, and sent it aloft, in order that Jack might have every
available opportunity of ascertaining his facts. It was this glass,
then, which was the means of the important discoveries the little
fellow, who was thus perched on the fore-topmast cross-trees of the
Swash, did actually succeed in making.
Jack actually started, when he first ascertained how distinctly and
near the glass he was using brought distant objects. The gulls that
sailed across its disk, though a league off, appeared as if near
enough to be touched by the hand, and even their feathers gave out
not only their hues, but their forms. Thus, too, was it with the
surface of the ocean, of which the little waves that agitated the
water of the reef, might be seen tossing up and down, at more than
twice the range of the Poughkeepsie's heaviest gun. Naked rocks, low
and subdued as they were in colour, too, were to be noted, scattered
up and down in the panorama. At length Tier fancied his glass
covered a field that he recognized. It was distant, but might be
seen from his present elevation. A second look satisfied him he was
right; and he next clearly traced the last channel in which they had
endeavoured to escape from Spike, or that in which the boat had been
taken. Following it along, by slowly moving the glass, he actually
hit the rock on which Mulford had been deserted. It was peculiar in
shape, size, and elevation above the water, and connected with the
circumstance of the channel, which was easily enough seen by the
colour of the water, and more easily from his height than if he had
been in it, he could not be mistaken. The little fellow's heart beat
quick as he made the glass move slowly over its surface, anxiously
searching for the form of the mate. It was not to be seen. A second,
and a more careful sweep of the glass, made it certain that the rock
was deserted.
Although a little reflection might have satisfied any one Mulford
was not to be sought in that particular spot, so long after he had
been left there, Jack Tier felt grievously disappointed when he was
first made certain of the accuracy of his observations. A minute
later he began to reason on the matter, and he felt more encouraged.
The rock on which the mate had been abandoned was smooth, and could
not hold any fresh water that might have been left by the late
showers. Jack also remembered that it had neither sea-weed nor
shell-fish. In short, the utmost malice of Spike could not have
selected, for the immolation of his victim, a more suitable place.
Now Tier had heard Harry's explanation to Rose, touching the manner
in which he had waded and swum about the reef that very morning, and
it at once occurred to him that the young man had too much energy
and spirit to remain helpless and inactive to perish on a naked
rock, when there might be a possibility of at least prolonging
existence, if not of saving it. This induced the steward to turn the
glass slowly over the water, and along all the ranges of visible
rock that he could find in that vicinity. For a long time the search
was useless, the distance rendering such an examination not only
difficult but painful. At length Jack, about to give up the matter
in despair, took one sweep with the glass nearer to the brig, as
much to obtain a general idea of the boat-channels of the reef, as
in any hope of finding Mulford, when an object moving in the water
came within the field of the glass. He saw it but for an instant, as
the glass swept slowly past, but it struck him it was something that
had life, and was in motion. Carefully going over the same ground
again, after a long search, he again found what he so anxiously
sought. A good look satisfied him that he was right. It was
certainly a man wading along the shallow water of the reef, immersed
to his waist--and it must be Mulford.
So excited was Jack Tier by this discovery that he trembled like a
leaf. A minute or two elapsed before he could again use the glass;
and when he did, a long and anxious search was necessary before so
small an object could be once more found. Find it he did, however,
and then he got its range by the vessel, in a way to make sure of
it. Yes, it was a man, and it was Mulford.
Circumstances conspired to aid Jack in the investigation that
succeeded. The sun was near setting, but a stream of golden light
gleamed over the waters, particularly illuminating the portion which
came within the field of the glass. It appeared then that Harry, in
his efforts to escape from the rock, and to get nearer to the edge
of the main channel, where his chances of being seen and rescued
would be ten-fold what they were on his rock, had moved south, by
following the naked reef and the shallow places, and was actually
more than a league nearer to the brig than he would have been had he
remained stationary. There had been hours in which to make this
change, and the young man had probably improved them to the utmost.
Jack watched the form that was wading slowly along with an interest
he had never before felt in the movements of any human being.
Whether Mulford saw the brig or not, it was difficult to say. She
was quite two leagues from him, and, now that her sails were furled,
she offered but little for the eye to rest on at that distance. At
first, Jack thought the young man was actually endeavouring to get
nearer to her, though it must have been a forlorn hope that should
again place him in the hands of Spike. It was, however, a more
probable conjecture that the young man was endeavouring to reach the
margin of the passage, where a good deal of rock was above water,
and near to which he had already managed to reach. At one time Jack
saw that the mate was obliged to swim, and he actually lost sight of
him for a time. His form, however, reappeared, and then it slowly
emerged from the water, and stood erect on a bare rock of some
extent. Jack breathed freer at this; for Mulford was now on the very
margin of the channel, and might be easily reached by the boat,
should he prevail on Josh, or Simon, to attempt the rescue.
At first, Jack Tier fancied that Mulford had knelt to return thanks
on his arrival at a place of comparative safety; but a second look
satisfied him that Harry was drinking from one of the little pools
of fresh water left by the late shower. When he rose from drinking,
the young man walked about the place, occasionally stooping, signs
that he was picking up shell-fish for his supper. Suddenly, Mulford
darted forward, and passed beyond the field of the glass. When Jack
found him again, he was in the act of turning a small turtle, using
his knife on the animal immediately after. Had Jack been in danger
of starvation himself, and found a source of food as ample and as
grateful as this, he could scarcely have been more delighted. The
light now began to wane perceptibly, still Harry's movements could
be discerned. The turtle was killed and dressed, sufficiently at
least for the mate's purposes, and the latter was seen collecting
sea-weed, and bits of plank, boards, and sticks of wood, of which
more or less, in drifting past, had lodged upon the rocks. "Is it
possible," thought Jack, "that he is so werry partic'lar he can't
eat his turtle raw! Will he, indeed, venture to light a fire, or has
he the means?" Mulford was so particular, however, he did venture to
light a fire, and he had the means. This may be said to be the age
of matches--not in a connubial, though in an inflammatory sense--and
the mate had a small stock in a tight box that he habitually carried
on his person. Tier saw him at work over a little pile he had made
for a long time, the beams of day departing now so fast as to make
him fearful he should soon lose his object in the increasing
obscurity of twilight. Suddenly a light gleamed, and the pile sent
forth a clear flame. Mulford went to and fro, collecting materials
to feed his fire, and was soon busied in cooking his turtle. All
this Tier saw and understood, the light of the flames coming in
proper time to supply the vacuum left by the departure of that of
day.
In a minute Tier had no difficulty in seeing the fire that Mulford
had lighted on his low and insulated domains with the naked eye. It
gleamed brightly in that solitary place; and the steward was much
afraid it would be seen by some one on deck, get to be reported to
Spike, and lead to Harry's destruction after all. The mate appeared
to be insensible to his danger, however, occasionally casting piles
of dry sea-weed on his fire, in a way to cause the flames to flash
up, as if kindled anew by gunpowder. It now occurred to Tier that
the young man had a double object in lighting this fire, which would
answer not only the purposes of his cookery, but as a signal of
distress to anything passing near. The sloop-of-war, though more
distant than the brig, was in his neighbourhood; and she might
possibly yet send relief. Such was the state of things when Jack was
startled by a sudden hail from below. It was Spike's voice, and came
up to him short and quick.
"Fore-topmast cross-trees, there! What are ye about all this time,
Master Jack Tier, in them fore-topmast cross-trees, I say?" demanded
Spike.
"Keeping a look-out for boats from the sloop-of-war, as you bade me,
sir," answered Jack, coolly.
"D'ye see any, my man? Is the water clear ahead of us, or not?"
"It's getting to be so dark, sir, I can see no longer. While there
was day-light, no boat was to be seen."
"Come down, man--come down; I've business for you below. The sloop
is far enough to the nor'ard, and we shall neither see nor hear from
her to-night. Come down, I say, Jack--come down."
Jack obeyed, and securing the glass, he began to descend the
rigging. He was soon as low as the top, when he paused a moment to
take another look. The fire was still visible, shining like a torch
on the surface of the water, casting its beams abroad like "a good
deed in a naughty world." Jack was sorry to see it, though he once
more took its bearing from the brig, in order that he might know
where to find the spot, in the event of a search for it. When on the
stretcher of the fore-rigging, Jack stopped and again looked for his
beacon. It had disappeared, having sunk below the circular formation
of the earth. By ascending two or three ratlins, it came into view,
and by going down as low as the stretcher again, it disappeared.
Trusting that no one, at that hour, would have occasion to go aloft,
Jack now descended to the deck, and went aft with the spy-glass.
Spike and the Señor Montefalderon were under the coach-house, no one
else appearing on any part of the quarter-deck. The people were
eating their suppers, and Josh and Simon were busy in the galley. As
for the females, they chose to remain in their own cabin, where
Spike was well pleased to leave them.
"Come this way, Jack," said the captain, in his best-humoured tone
of voice, "I've a word to say to you. Put the glass in at my
state-room window, and come hither."
Tier did as ordered.
"So you can make out no boats to the nor'ard, ha, Jack! nothing to
be seen thereaway?"
"Nothing in the way of a boat, sir."
"Ay, ay, I dare say there's plenty of water, and some rock. The
Florida Reef has no scarcity of either, to them that knows where to
look for one, and to steer clear of the other. Hark'e, Jack; so you
got the schooner under way from the Dry Tortugas, and undertook to
beat her up to Key West, when she fancied herself a turtle, and over
she went with you--is that it, my man?"
"The schooner turned turtle with us, sure enough, sir; and we all
came near drowning on her bottom."
"No sharks in that latitude and longitude, eh Jack?"
"Plenty on 'em, sir; and I thought they would have got us all, at
one time. More than twenty set of fins were in sight at once, for
several hours."
"You could hardly have supplied the gentlemen with a leg, or an arm,
each. But where was the boat all this time--you had the light-house
boat in tow, I suppose?"
"She had been in tow, sir; but Madam Budd talked so much dictionary
to the painter, that it got adrift."
"Yet I found you all in it."
"Very true, sir. Mr. Mulford swam quite a mile to reach the rocks,
and found the boat aground on one on 'em. As soon as he got the
boat, he made sail, and came and took us off. We had reason to thank
God he could do so."
Spike looked dark and thoughtful. He muttered the words "swam," and
"rocks," but was too cautious to allow any expressions to escape
him, that might betray to the Mexican officer that which was
uppermost in his mind. He was silent, however, for quite a minute,
and Jack saw that he had awakened a dangerous source of distrust in
the captain's breast.
"Well, Jack," resumed Spike, after the pause, "can you tell us
anything of the doubloons? I nat'rally expected to find them in the
boat, but there were none to be seen. You scarcely pumped the
schooner out, without overhauling her lockers, and falling in with
them doubloons."
"We found them, sure enough, and had them ashore with us, in the
tent, down to the moment when we sailed."
"When you took them off to the schooner, eh? My life for it, the
gold was not forgotten."
"It was not, sure enough, sir; but we took it off with us to the
schooner, and it went down in her when she finally sunk."
Another pause, during which Señor Montefalderon and Captain Spike
looked significantly at each other.
"Do you think, Jack, you could find the spot where the schooner went
down?"
"I could come pretty near it, sir, though not on the very spot
itself. Water leaves no mark over the grave of a sunken ship."
"If you can take us within a reasonable distance, we might find it
by sweeping for it. Them doubloons are worth some trouble; and their
recovery would be better than a long v'y'ge to us, any day."
"They would, indeed, Don Esteban," observed the Mexican; "and my
poor country is not in a condition to bear heavy losses. If Señor
Jack Tier can find the wreck, and we regain the money, ten of those
doubloons shall be his reward, though I take them from my own share,
much diminished as it will be."
"You hear, Jack--here is a chance to make your fortune! You say you
sailed with me in old times--and old times were good times with this
brig, though times has changed; but if you sailed with me, in _old_
times, you must remember that whatever the Swash touched she turned
to gold."
"I hope you do n't doubt, Captain Spike, my having sailed in the
brig, not only in old times, but in her best times."
Jack seemed hurt as he put this question, and Spike appeared in
doubt. The latter gazed at the little, rotund, queer-looking figure
before him, as if endeavouring to recognise him; and when he had
done, he passed his hand over his brow, like one who endeavoured to
recall past objects by excluding those that are present.
"You will then show us the spot where my unfortunate schooner did
sink, Señor Jack Tier?" put in the Mexican.
"With all my heart, señor, if it is to be found. I think I could
take you within a cable's length of the place, though hunger, and
thirst, and sharks, and the fear of drowning, will keep a fellow
from having a very bright look-out for such a matter."
"In what water do you suppose the craft to lie, Jack?" demanded the
captain.
"You know as much of that as I do myself, sir. She went down about a
cable's length from the reef, toward which she was a settin' at the
time; and had she kept afloat an hour longer, she might have
grounded on the rocks."
"She 's better where she is, if we can only find her by sweeping. On
the rocks we could do nothing with her but break her up, and ten to
one the doubloons would be lost. By the way, Jack, do you happen to
know where that scoundrel of a mate of mine stowed the money?"
"When we left the island, I carried it down to the boat myself--and
a good lift I had of it. As sure as you are there, señor, I was
obliged to take it on a shoulder. When it came out of the boat, Mr.
Mulford carried it below; and I heard him tell Miss Rose, a'terwards
that he had thrown it into a bread-locker."
"Where we shall find it, Don Wan, notwithstanding all this veering
and hauling. The old brig has luck when, doubloons are in question,
and ever has had since I've commanded her. Jack, we shall have to
call on the cook and stewards for an anchor-watch to-night. The
people are a good deal fagged with boxing about this reef so much,
and I shall want 'em all as fresh to-morrow as they can be got. You
idlers had better take the middle watches, which will give the
fore-castle chaps longer naps."
"Ay, ay, sir; we'll manage that for 'em. Josh and Simon can go on at
twelve, and I will take the watch at two, which will give the men
all the rest they want, as I can hold out for four hours full. I'm
as good for an anchor-watch as any man in the brig, Captain Spike."
"That you are, Jack, and better than some on 'em. Take you all
round, and round it is, you 're a rum 'un, my lad--the queerest
little jigger that ever lay out on a royal-yard."
Jack might have been a little offended at Spike's compliments, but
he was certainly not sorry to find him so good-natured, after all
that had passed. He now left the captain, and his Mexican companion,
seemingly in close conference together, while he went below himself,
and dropped as naturally into the routine of his duty, as if he had
never left the brig. In the cabin he found the females, of course.
Rose scarce raising her face from the shawl which lay on the bed of
her own berth. Jack busied himself in a locker near this berth,
until an opportunity occurred to touch Rose, unseen by her aunt or
Biddy. The poor heart-stricken girl raised her face, from which all
the colour had departed, and looked almost vacantly at Jack, as if
to ask an explanation. Hope is truly, by a most benevolent provision
of Providence, one of the very last blessings to abandon us. It is
probable that we are thus gifted, in order to encourage us to rely
on the great atonement to the last moment, since, without this
natural endowment to cling to hope, despair might well be the fate
of millions, who, there is reason to think, reap the benefit of that
act of divine mercy. It would hardly do to say that anything like
hope was blended with the look Rose now cast on Jack, but it was
anxious and inquiring.
The steward bent his head to the locker, bringing his face quite
near to that of Rose, and whispered--"There is hope, Miss Rose--but
do not betray me."
These were blessed words for our heroine to hear, and they produced
an immediate and great revolution in her feelings. Commanding
herself, however, she looked her questions, instead of trusting even
to a whisper. Jack did not say any more, just then; but, shortly
after, he called Rose, whose eyes were now never off him, into the
main cabin, which was empty. It was so much pleasanter to sleep in
an airy state-room on deck, that Señor Montefalderon, indeed, had
given up the use of this cabin, in a great measure, seldom appearing
in it, except at meals, having taken possession of the deserted
apartment of Mulford. Josh was in the galley, where he spent most of
his time, and Rose and Jack had no one to disturb their conference.
"He is safe, Miss Rose--God be praised!" whispered Jack. "Safe for
the present, at least; with food, and water, and fire to keep him
warm at night."
It was impossible for Rose not to understand to whom there was
allusion, though her head became dizzy under the painful confusion
that prevailed in it. She pressed her temples with both hands, and
asked a thousand questions with her eyes. Jack considerately handed
her a glass of water before he proceeded. As soon as he found her a
little more composed, he related the facts connected with his
discovery of Mulford, precisely as they had occurred.
"He is now on a large rock--a little island, indeed--where he is
safe from the ocean unless it comes on to blow a hurricane,"
concluded Jack, "has fresh water and fresh turtle in the bargain. A
man might live a month on one such turtle as I saw Mr. Mulford
cutting up this evening."
"Is there no way of rescuing him from the situation you have
mentioned, Jack? In a year or two I shall be my own mistress, and
have money to do as I please with; put me only in the way of taking
Mr. Mulford from that rock, and I will share all I am worth on earth
with you, dear Jack."
"Ay, so it is with the whole sex," muttered Tier; "let them only
once give up their affections to a man, and he becomes dearer to
them than pearls and rubies! But you know me, Miss Rose, and know
_why_ and _how well_ I would sarve you. My story and my feelin's are
as much your secret, as your story and your feelin's is mine. We
shall pull together, if we do n't pull so very strong. Now, hearken
to me, Miss Rose, and I will let you into the secret of my plan to
help Mr. Mulford make a launch."
Jack then communicated to his companion his whole project for the
night. Spike had, of his own accord, given to him and his two
associates, Simon and Josh, the care of the brig between midnight
and morning. If he could prevail on either of these men to accompany
him, it was his intention to take the light-house boat, which was
riding by its painter astern of the brig, and proceed as fast as
they could to the spot whither Mulford had found his way. By his
calculations, if the wind stood as it then was, little more than an
hour would be necessary to reach the rock, and about as much more to
return. Should the breeze lull, of which there was no great danger,
since the easterly trades were again blowing, Jack thought he and
Josh might go over the distance with the oars in about double the
time. Should both Josh and Simon refuse to accompany him, he thought
he should attempt the rescue of the mate alone, did the wind stand,
trusting to Mulford's assistance, should he need it, in getting back
to the brig.
"You surely would not come back here with Harry, did you once get
him safe from off that rock!" exclaimed Rose.
"Why, you know how it is with me, Miss Rose," answered Jack. "_My_
business is here, on board the Swash, and I must attend to it.
Nothing shall tempt me to give up the brig so long as she floats,
and sartain folk float in her, unless it might be some such matter
as that which happened on the bit of an island at the Dry Tortugas.
Ah! he's a willian! But if I do come back, it will be only to get
into my own proper berth ag'in, and not to bring Mr. Mulford into
the lion's jaws. He will only have to put me back on board the Molly
here, when he can make the best of his own way to Key West. Half an
hour would place him out of harm's way; especially as I happen to
know the course Spike means to steer in the morning."
"I will go with you, Jack," said Rose, mildly, but with great
firmness.
"You, Miss Rose! But why should I show surprise! It's like all the
sex, when they have given away their affections. Yes, woman will be
woman, put her on a naked rock, or put her in silks and satins in
her parlour at home. How different is it with men! They dote for a
little while, and turn to a new face. It must be said, men's
willians!"
"Not Mulford, Jack--no, not Harry Mulford! A truer or a nobler heart
never beat in a human breast; and you and I will drown together,
rather than he should not be taken from that rock."
"It shall be as you say," answered Jack, a little thoughtfully.
"Perhaps it would be best that you should quit the brig altogether.
Spike is getting desperate, and you will be safer with the young
mate than with so great an old willian. Yes, you shall go with me,
Miss Rose; and if Josh and Simon both refuse, we will go alone."
"With you, Jack, but not with Mr. Mulford. I cannot desert my aunt,
nor can I quit the Swash alone in company with her mate. As for
Spike, I despise him too much to fear him. He must soon go into port
somewhere, and at the first place where he touches we shall quit
him. He dare not detain us--nay, he _cannot_--and I do not fear him.
We will save Harry, but I shall remain with my aunt."
"We'll see, Miss Rose, we'll see," said Tier, smiling. "Perhaps a
handsome young man, like Mr. Mulford, will have better luck in
persuading you than an old fellow like me. If he should fail, 't
will be his own fault."
So thought Jack Tier, judging of women as he had found them, but so
did not think Rose Budd. The conversation ended here, however, each
keeping in view its purport, and the serious business that was
before them.
The duty of the vessel went on as usual. The night promised to be
clouded, but not very dark, as there was a moon. When Spike ordered
the anchor-watches, he had great care to spare his crew as much as
possible, for the next day was likely to be one of great toil to
them. He intended to get the schooner up again, if possible; and
though he might not actually pump her out so as to cause her to
float, enough water was to be removed to enable him to get at the
doubloons. The situation of the bread-locker was known, and as soon
as the cabin was sufficiently freed from water to enable one to move
about in it, Spike did not doubt his being able to get at the gold.
With his resources and ingenuity, the matter in his own mind was
reduced to one of toil and time. Eight-and-forty hours, and some
hard labour, he doubted not would effect all he cared for.
In setting the anchor-watches for the night, therefore, Stephen
Spike bethought him as much of the morrow as of the present moment.
Don Juan offered to remain on deck until midnight, and as he was as
capable of giving an alarm as any one else, the offer was accepted.
Josh and Simon were to succeed the Mexican, and to hold the lookout
for two hours, when Jack was to relieve them, and to continue on
deck until light returned, when he was to give the captain a call.
This arrangement made, Tier turned in at once, desiring the cook to
call him half an hour before the proper period of his watch
commenced. That half hour Jack intended to employ in exercising his
eloquence in endeavouring to persuade either Josh or Simon to be of
his party. By eight o'clock the vessel lay in a profound quiet,
Señor Montefalderon pacing the quarterdeck alone, while the deep
breathing of Spike was to be heard issuing through the open window
of his state-room; a window which it may be well to say to the
uninitiated, opened in-board, or toward the deck, and not outboard,
or toward the sea.
For four solitary hours did the Mexican pace the deck of the
stranger, resting himself for a few minutes at a time only, when
wearied with walking. Does the reader fancy that a man so situated
had not plenty of occupation for his thoughts? Don Juan
Montefalderon was a soldier and a gallant cavalier; and love of
country had alone induced him to engage in his present duties. Not
that patriotism which looks to political preferment through a
popularity purchased by the valgar acclamation which attends success
in arms, even when undeserved, or that patriotism which induces men
of fallen characters to endeavour to retrieve former offences by the
shortest and most reckless mode, or that patriotism which shouts
"our country right or wrong," regardless alike of God and his
eternal laws, that are never to be forgotten with impunity; but the
patriotism which would defend his home and fire-side, his altars and
the graves of his fathers, from the ruthless steps of the invader.
We shall not pretend to say how far this gentleman entered into the
merits of the quarrel between the two republics, which no arts of
European jealousy can ever conceal from the judgment of truth, for,
with him, matters had gone beyond the point when men feel the
necessity of reasoning, and when, perhaps, if such a condition of
the mind is ever to be defended, he found his perfect justification
in feeling. He had travelled, and knew life by observation, and not
through traditions and books. He had never believed, therefore, that
his countrymen could march to Washington, or even to the Sabine; but
he had hoped for better things than had since occurred. The warlike
qualities of the Americans of the North, as he was accustomed to
call those who term themselves, _par excellence,_ Americans, a name
they are fated to retain, and to raise high on the scale of national
power and national pre-eminence, unless they fall by their own
hands, had taken him by surprise, as they have taken all but those
who knew the country well, and who understood its people. Little had
he imagined that the small, widely-spread body of regulars, that
figured in the blue books, almanacs and army-registers of America,
as some six or seven thousand men, scattered along frontiers of a
thousand leagues in extent, could, at the beck of the government,
swell into legions of invaders, men able to carry war to the
capitals of his own states, thousands of miles from their doors, and
formidable alike for their energy, their bravery, their readiness in
the use of arms, and their numbers. He saw what is perhaps justly
called the boasting of the American character, vindicated by their
exploits; and marches, conquests and victories that, if sober truth
were alone to cover the pages of history, would far outdo in real
labour and danger the boasted passage of the Alps under Napoleon,
and the exploits that succeeded it.
Don Juan Montefalderon was a grave and thoughtful man, of pure
Iberian blood. He might have had about him a little of the
exaltation of the Spanish character; the overflowings of a generous
chivalry at the bottom; and, under its influence, he may have set
too high an estimate on Mexico and her sons, but he was not one to
shut his eyes to the truth. He saw plainly that the northern
neighbours of his country were a race formidable and enterprising,
and that of all the calumnies that had been heaped upon them by
rivalries and European superciliousness, that of their not being
military by temperament was, perhaps, the most absurd of all. On the
contrary, he had himself, though anticipating evil, been astounded
by the suddenness and magnitude of their conquests, which in a few
short months after the breaking out of hostilities, had overrun
regions larger in extent than many ancient empires. All this had
been done, too, not by disorderly and barbarous hordes, seeking in
other lands the abundance that was wanting at home; but with system
and regularity, by men who had turned the ploughshare into the sword
for the occasion, quitting abundance to encounter fatigue, famine,
and danger. In a word, the Señor Montefalderon saw all the evils
that environed his own land, and foresaw others, of a still graver
character that menaced the future. On matters such as these did he
brood in his walk, and bitter did he find the minutes of that sad
and lonely watch. Although a Mexican, he could feel; although an
avowed foe of this good republic of ours, he had his principles, his
affections, and his sense of right. Whatever may be the merits of
the quarrel, and we are not disposed to deny that our provocation
has been great, a sense of right should teach every man that what
may be patriotic in an American, would not be exactly the same thing
in a Mexican, and that we ought to respect in others sentiments that
are so much vaunted among ourselves. Midnight at length arrived,
and, calling the cook and steward, the unhappy gentleman was
relieved, and went to his berth to dream, in sorrow, over the same
pictures of national misfortunes, on which, while waking, he had
brooded in such deep melancholy.
The watch of Josh and Simon was tranquil, meeting with no
interruption until it was time to summon Jack. One thing these men
had done, however, that was of some moment to Tier, under a pledge
given by Josh, and which had been taken in return for a dollar in
hand. They had managed to haul the light-house boat alongside, from
its position astern, and this so noiselessly as not to give the
alarm to any one. There it lay, when Jack appeared, ready at the
main-rigging, to receive him at any moment he might choose to enter
it.
A few minutes after Jack appeared on deck, Rose and Biddy came
stealthily out of the cabin, the latter carrying a basket filled
with bread and broken meat, and not wanting in sundry little
delicacies, such as woman's hands prepare, and, in this instance,
woman's tenderness had provided. The whole party met at the galley,
a place so far removed from the state-rooms aft as to be out of
ear-shot. Here Jack renewed his endeavours to persuade either Josh
or Simon to go in the boat, but without success. The negroes had
talked the matter over in their watch, and had come to the
conclusion the enterprise was too hazardous.
"I tell you, Jack, you does n't know Cap'in Spike as well as I
does," Josh said, in continuance of the discourse. "No, you does n't
know him at all as well as I does. If he finds out that anybody has
quit dis brig dis werry night, woful will come! It no good to try to
run; I run t'ree time, an' Simon here run twice. What good it all
do? We got cotched, and here we is, just as fast as ever. I knows
Cap'in Spike, and does n't want to fall in athwart his hawse any
more."
"Y-e-s, dat my judgment too," put in the cook. "We wishes you well,
Jack, and we wishes Miss Rose well, and Mr. Mulford well, but we
can't, no how, run ath'art hawse, as Josh says. Dat is my judgment,
too."
"Well, if your minds are made up to this, my darkies, I s'pose
there'll be no changing them," said Jack. "At all ewents you'll lend
us a hand, by answering any hail that may come from aft, in my
watch, and in keepin' our secret. There's another thing you can do
for us, which may be of service. Should Captain Spike miss the boat,
and lay any trap to catch us, you can just light this here bit of
lantern and hang it over the brig's bows, where he'll not be likely
to see it, that we may know matters are going wrong, and give the
craft a wide berth."
"Sartain," said Josh, who entered heartily into the affair, so far
as good wishes for its success were concerned, at the very moment
when he had a most salutary care of his own back. "Sartain; we do
all dat, and no t'ank asked. It no great matter to answer a hail, or
to light a lantern and sling him over de bows; and if Captain Spike
want to know who did it, let him find out."
Here both negroes laughed heartily, manifesting so little care to
suppress their mirth, that Rose trembled lest their noise should
awaken Spike. Accustomed sounds, however, seldom produce this effect
on the ears of the sleeper, and the heavy breathing from the
state-room, succeeded the merriment of the blacks, as soon as the
latter ceased. Jack now announced his readiness to depart. Some
little care and management were necessary to get into the boat
noiselessly, more especially with Biddy. It was done however, with
the assistance of the blacks, who cast off the painter, when Jack
gave the boat a shove to clear the brig, and suffered it to drift
astern for a considerable distance before he ventured to cast loose
the sail.
"I know Spike well," said Jack, in answer to a remonstrance from the
impatient Rose concerning his delay: "A single flap of that canvas
would wake him up, with the brig anchored, while he would sleep
through a salute of heavy guns if it came in regular course. Quick
ears has old Stephen, and it's best to humour them. In a minute more
we'll set our canvas and be off."
All was done as Jack desired, and the boat got away from the brig
unheard and undetected. It was blowing a good breeze, and Jack Tier
had no sooner got the sail on the boat, than away it started at a
speed that would have soon distanced Spike in his yawl, and with his
best oarsmen. The main point was to keep the course, though the
direction of the wind was a great assistant. By keeping the wind
abeam, Jack thought he should be going toward the rock of Mulford.
In one hour, or even in less time, he expected to reach it, and he
was guided by time, in his calculations, as much as by any other
criterion. Previously to quitting the brig, he had gone up a few
ratlins of the fore-rigging to take the bearings of the fire on
Mulford's rock, but the light was no longer visible. As no star was
to be seen, the course was a little vague, but Jack was navigator
enough to understand that by keeping on the weather side of the
channel he was in the right road, and that his great danger of
missing his object was in over-running it.
So much of the reef was above water, that it was not difficult to
steer a boat along its margin. The darkness, to be sure, rendered it
a little uncertain how near they were running to the rocks, but, on
the whole, Jack assured Rose he had no great difficulty in getting
along.
"These trades are almost as good as compasses," he said, "and the
rocks are better, if we can keep close aboard them without going on
to them. I do not know the exact distance of the spot we seek from
the brig, but I judged it to be about two leagues, as I looked at it
from aloft. Now, this boat will travel them two leagues in an hour,
with this breeze and in smooth water."
"I wish you had seen the fire again before we left the brig," said
Rose, too anxious for the result not to feel uneasiness on some
account or other.
"The mate is asleep, and the fire has burned down; that's the
explanation. Besides, fuel is not too plenty on a place like that
Mr. Mulford inhabits just now. As we get near the spot, I shall look
out for embers, which may sarve as a light-house, or beacon, to
guide us into port."
"Mr. Mulford will be charmed to see us, now that we take him
wather!" exclaimed Biddy. "Wather is a blessed thing, and it's hard
will be the heart that does not fale gratitude for a planty of swate
wather."
"The maty has plenty of food and water where he is," said Jack.
"I'll answer for both them sarcumstances. I saw him turn a turtle as
plain as if I had been at his elbow, and I saw him drinking at a
hole in the rock, as heartily as a boy ever pulled at a gimblet-hole
in a molasses hogs-head."
"But the distance was so great, Jack, I should hardly think you
could have distinguished objects so small."
"I went by the motions altogether. I saw the man, and I saw the
movements, and I knowed what the last meant. It's true I couldn't
swear to the turtle, though I saw something on the rock that I
knowed, by the way in which it was handled, _must_ be a turtle. Then
I saw the mate kneel, and put his head low, and then I knowed he was
drinking."
"Perhaps he prayed," said Rose, solemnly.
"Not he. Sailors isn't so apt to pray, Miss Rose; not as apt as they
ought to be. Women for prayers, and men for work. Mr. Mulford is no
worse than many others, but I doubt if he be much given to _that_."
To this Rose made no answer, but Biddy took the matter up, and, as
the boat went briskly ahead, she pursued the subject.
"Then more is the shame for him," said the Irish woman, "and Miss
Rose, and missus, and even I prayin' _for_ him, all as if he was our
own brudder. It's seldom I ask anything for a heretic, but I could
not forget a fine young man like Mr. Mulford, and Miss Rose so
partial to him, and he in so bad a way. He ought to be ashamed to
make his brags that he is too proud to pray."
"Harry has made no such wicked boast," put in Rose, mildly; "nor do
we know that he has not prayed for us, as well as for himself. It
may all be a mistake of Jack's, you know."
"Yes," added Jack, coolly, "it _may_ be a mistake, a'ter all, for I
was lookin' at the maty six miles off, and through a spy-glass. No
one can be sure of anything at such a distance. So overlook the
matter, my good Biddy, and carry Mr. Mulford the nice things you've
mustered in that basket, all the same as if he was pope."
"This is a subject we had better drop," Rose quietly observed.
"Anything to oblige you, Miss Rose, though religion is a matter it
would do me no harm to talk about once and awhile. It's many a long
year since I've had time and opportunity to bring my thoughts to
dwell on holy things. Ever since I left my mother's side, I've been
a wanderer in my mind, as much as in my body."
"Poor Jack! I understand and feel for your sufferings; but a better
time will come, when you may return to the habits of your youth, and
to the observances of your church."
"I do n't know that, Miss Rose; I do n't know that," answered Tier,
placing the elbow of his short arm on the seemingly shorter leg, and
bending his head so low as to lean his face on the palm of the hand,
an attitude in which he appeared to be suffering keenly through his
recollections. "Childhood and innocence never come back to us in
this world. What the grave may do, we shall all learn in time."
"Innocence can return to all with repentance, Jack; and the heart
that prompts you to do acts as generous as this you are now engaged
in, must contain some good seed yet."
"If Jack will go to a praste and just confess, when he can find a
father, it will do his sowl good," said Biddy, who was touched by
the mental suffering of the strange little being at her side.
But the necessity of managing the boat soon compelled its coxswain
to raise his head, and to attend to his duty. The wind sometimes
came in puffs, and at such moments Jack saw that the large sail of
the light-house boat required watching, a circumstance that induced
him to shake off his melancholy, and give his mind more exclusively
to the business before him. As for Rose, she sympathised deeply with
Jack Tier, for she knew his history, his origin, the story of his
youth, and the well-grounded causes of his contrition and regrets.
From her, Jack had concealed nothing, the gentle commiseration of
one like Rose being a balm to wounds that had bled for long and
bitter years. The great poet of our language, and the greatest that
ever lived, perhaps, short of the inspired writers of the Old
Testament, and old Homer and Dante, has well reminded us that the
"little beetle," in yielding its breath, can "feel a pang as great
as when a giant dies." Thus is it, too, in morals. Abasement, and
misery, and poverty, and sin, may, and all do, contribute to lower
the tone of our moral existence; but the principle that has been
planted by nature, can be eradicated by nature only. It exists as
long as we exist; and if dormant for a time, under the pressure of
circumstances, it merely lies, in the moral system, like the acorn,
or the chestnut, in the ground, waiting its time and season to
sprout, and bud, and blossom. Should that time never arrive, it is
not because the seed is not there, but because it is neglected. Thus
was it with the singular being of whose feelings we have just
spoken. The germ of goodness had been implanted early in him, and
was nursed with tenderness and care, until, self-willed, and
governed by passion; he had thrown off the connections of youth and
childhood, to connect himself with Spike--a connection that had left
him what he was. Before closing our legend, we shall have occasion
to explain it.
"We have run our hour; Miss Rose," resumed Jack, breaking a
continued silence, during which the boat had passed through a long
line of water; "we have run our hour, and ought to be near the rock
we are in search of. But the morning is so dark that I fear we shall
have difficulty in finding it. It will never do to run past it, and
we must haul closer into the reef, and shorten sail, that we may be
sartain to make no such mistake."
Rose begged her companion to omit no precaution, as it would be
dreadful to fail in their search, after incurring so much risk in
their own persons.
"Harry may be sleeping on the sea-weed of which you spoke," she
added, "and the danger of passing him will be much increased in such
a case. What a gloomy and frightful spot is this, in which to
abandon a human being! I fear, Jack, that we have come faster than
we have supposed, and may already have passed the rock."
"I hope not, Miss Rose--it seemed to me a good two leagues to the
place where I saw him, and the boat is fast that will run two
leagues in an hour."
"We do not know the time, Jack, and are obliged to guess at that as
well as at the distance. How very dark it is!"
Dark, in one sense, it was not, though Rose's apprehensions,
doubtless, induced her to magnify every evil. The clouds certainly
lessened the light of the moon; but there was still enough of the
last to enable one to see surrounding objects; and most especially
to render distinct the character of the solitude that reigned over
the place.
The proximity of the reef, which formed a weather shore to the boat,
prevented anything like a swell on the water, notwithstanding the
steadiness and strength of the breeze, which had now blown for near
twenty-four hours. The same wind, in open water, would have raised
sea enough to cause a ship to pitch, or roll; whereas, the
light-house boat, placed where she was, scarce rose and fell under
the undulations of the channel through which she was glancing.
"This is a good boat, and a fast boat too," observed Jack Tier,
after he had luffed up several minutes, in order to make sure of his
proximity to the reef; "and it might carry us all safe enough to Key
West, or certainly back to the Dry Tortugas, was we inclined to try
our hands at either."
"I cannot quit my aunt," said Rose, quickly, "so we will not even
think of any such thing."
"No, 't would never do to abandon the missus," said Biddy, "and she
on the wrack wid us, and falin' the want of wather as much as
ourselves."
"We three have sartainly gone through much in company," returned
Jack, "and it ought to make us friends for life."
"I trust it will, Jack; I hope, when we return to New York, to see
you among us, anchored, as you would call it, for the rest of your
days under my aunt's roof, or under my own, should I ever have one."
"No, Miss Rose, my business is with the Swash and her captain. I
shall stick by both, now I've found 'em again, until they once more
desart me. A man's duty is _his_ duty, and a woman's duty is _her_
duty."
"You same to like the brig and her captain, Jack Tier," observed
Biddy, "and there's no use in gainsaying such a likin'. What _will_
come to pass, must come to pass. Captain Spike is a mighty great
sailor, anyway."
"He's a willian!" muttered Jack.
"There!" cried Rose, almost breathless, "there is a rock above the
water, surely. Do not fly by it so swiftly, Jack, but let us stop
and examine it."
"There is a rock, sure enough, and a large piece it is," answered
Tier. "We will go alongside of it, and see what it is made of. Biddy
shall be boat-keeper, while you and I, Miss Rose, explore."
Jack had thrown the boat into the wind, and was shooting close
alongside of the reef, even while speaking. The party found no
difficulty in landing; the margin of the rock admitting the boat to
lie close alongside of it, and its surface being even and dry. Jack
had brailed the sail, and he brought the painter ashore, and
fastened it securely to a fragment of stone, that made a very
sufficient anchor. In addition to this precaution, a lazy painter
was put into Biddy's hands, and she was directed not to let go of it
while her companions were absent. These arrangements concluded, Rose
and Jack commenced a hurried examination of the spot.
A few minutes sufficed to give our adventurers a tolerably accurate
notion of the general features of the place on which they had
landed. It was a considerable portion of the reef that was usually
above water, and which had even some fragments of soil, or sand, on
which was a stinted growth of bushes. Of these last, however, there
were very few, nor were there many spots of the sand. Drift-wood and
sea-weed were lodged in considerable quantities about its margin,
and, in places, piles of both had been tossed upon the rock itself,
by the billows of former gales of wind. Nor was it long before Jack
discovered a turtle that had been up to a hillock of sand, probably
to deposit its eggs. There was enough of the sportsman in Jack,
notwithstanding the business he was on, to turn this animal; though
with what object, he might have been puzzled himself to say. This
exploit effected, Jack followed Rose as fast as his short legs would
permit, our heroine pressing forward eagerly, though almost without
hope, in order to assertain if Mulford were there.
"I am afraid this is not the rock," said Rose, nearly breathless
with her own haste, when Jack had overtaken her. "I see nothing of
him, and we have passed over most of the place."
"Very true, Miss Rose," answered her companion, who was in a good
humour on account of his capture of the turtle; "but there are other
rocks besides this. Ha! what was that, yonder," pointing with a
finger, "here, more toward the brig. As I'm a sinner, there was a
flashing, as of fire."
"If a fire, it must be that made by Harry. Let us go to the spot at
once."
Jack led the way, and, sure enough, he soon reached a place where
the embers of what had been a considerable body of fire, were
smouldering on the rock. The wind had probably caused some brand to
kindle momentarily, which was the object that had caught Tier's eye.
No doubt any longer remained of their having found the very place
where the mate had cooked his supper, and lighted his beacon, though
he himself was not near it. Around these embers were all the signs
of Mulford's having made the meal, of which Jack had seen the
preparations. A portion of the turtle, much the greater part of it,
indeed, lay in its shell; and piles of wood and sea-weed, both dry,
had been placed at hand, ready for use. A ship's topgallant-yard,
with most of its rope attached, lay with a charred end near the
fire, of where the fire had been, the wood having burned until the
flames went out for want of contact with other fuel. There were many
pieces of boards of pitch-pine in the adjacent heap, and two or
three beautiful planks of the same wood, entire. In short, from the
character and quantity of the materials of this nature that had thus
been heaped together, Jack gave it as his opinion that some vessel,
freighted with lumber, had been wrecked to windward, and that the
adjacent rocks had been receiving the tribute of her cargo. Wrecks
are of very, very frequent occurrence on the Florida Reef; and there
are always moments when such gleanings are to be made in some part
of it or other.
"I see no better way to give a call to the mate, Miss Rose, than to
throw some of this dry weed, and some of this lumber on the fire,"
said Jack, after he had rummaged about the place sufficiently to
become master of its condition. "There is plenty of amunition, and
here goes for a broadside."
Jack had no great difficulty in effecting his object. In a few
minutes he succeeded in obtaining a flame, and then he fed it with
such fragments of the brands and boards as were best adapted to his
purpose. The flames extended gradually, and by the time Tier had
dragged the topgallant-yard over the pile, and placed several
planks, on their edges, alongside of it, the whole was ready to
burst into a blaze. The light was shed athwart the rock for a long
distance, and the whole place, which was lately so gloomy and
obscure, now became gay, under the bright radiance of a blazing
fire.
"There is a beacon-light that might almost be seen on board!" said
Jack, exulting in his success. If the mate is anywhere in this
latitude, he will soon turn up."
"I see nothing of him," answered Rose, in a melancholy voice.
"Surely, surely, Jack, he cannot have left the rock just as we have
come to rescue him!"
Rose and her companion had turned their faces from the fire to look
in an opposite direction in quest of him they sought. Unseen by
them, a human form advanced swiftly toward the fire, from a point on
its other side. It advanced nearer, then hesitated, afterward rushed
forward with a tread that caused the two to turn, and at the next
moment, Rose was clasped to the heart of Mulford.