"At the idea of you being taken for a pirate," said the child.
"Hee! hee! ho! ho!" remarked p.o.o.py.
"Silence, you lump of black putty!" thundered the aspiring youth.
"Come, don"t be cross to my maid," said Alice, quickly.
Corrie laughed, and was about to continue his discourse on the events and rumours of the day, when Mr Mason"s voice was heard the other end of the house.
"Ho! Corrie."
"That"s me," cried the boy, promptly springing up and rushing out of the room.
"Here, my boy, I thought I heard your voice. I want you to go a message for me. Run down, like a good lad, to Ole Thorwald and tell him to come up here as soon as he conveniently can. There are matters to consult about which will not brook delay."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered Corrie, sailor fashion, as he touched his forelock and bounded from the room.
"Off on pressing business," cried the sanguine youth, as he dashed through the kitchen, frightening Alice, and throwing Toozle into convulsions of delight--"horribly important business that `won"t brook delay;" but what _brook_ means is more than I can guess."
Before the sentence was finished, Corrie was far down the hill, leaping over every obstacle like a deer. On pa.s.sing through a small field he observed a native bending down, as if picking weeds, with his back towards him. Going softly up behind, he hit the semi-naked savage a sounding slap, and exclaimed, as he pa.s.sed on, "Hallo! Jackolu, important business, my boy--hurrah!"
The native to whom this rough salutation was given, was a tall stalwart young fellow who had for some years been one of the best behaved and most active members of Frederick Mason"s dark-skinned congregation. He stood erect for some time, with a broad grin on his swarthy face, and a twinkle in his eye, as he gazed after the young hopeful, muttering to himself, "Ho! yes--bery wicked boy dat, bery; but hims capital chap for all dat."
A few minutes later, Master Corrie burst in upon the st.u.r.dy middle-aged merchant, named Ole Thorwald, a Norwegian who had resided much in England, and spoke the English language well, and who prided himself on being ent.i.tled to claim descent from the old Norwegian sea-kings. This man was uncle and protector to Corrie.
"Ho! uncle Ole; here"s a business. Sich a to do--wounds, blood, and murder! or at least an attempt at it;--the whole settlement in arms, and the parson sends for you to take command!"
"What means the boy?" exclaimed Ole Thorwald, who, in virtue of his having once been a private in a regiment of militia, had been appointed to the chief command of the military department of the settlement. This consisted of about thirty white men, armed with fourteen fowling-pieces, twenty daggers, fifteen swords, and eight cavalry pistols; and about two hundred native Christians, who, when the a.s.saults of their unconverted brethren were made, armed themselves--as they were wont to do in days gone by--with formidable clubs, stone hatchets, and spears. "What means the boy!" exclaimed Ole, laying down a book which he had been reading, and thrusting his spectacles up on his broad bald forehead.
"Exactly what the boy says," replied Master Corrie.
"Then add something more to it, pray."
Thorwald said this in a mild tone, but he suddenly seized the handle of an old pewter mug which the lad knew, from experience, would certainly reach his head before he could gain the door if he did not behave; so he became polite, and condescended to explain his errand more fully.
"So, so," observed the descendant of the sea-kings, as he rose and slowly buckled on a huge old cavalry sabre, "there is double mischief brewing this time. Well, we shall see--we shall see. Go, Corrie, my boy, and rouse up Terrence and Hugh and--"
"The whole army, in short," cried the boy, hastily--"you"re so awfully slow, uncle, you should have been born in the last century, I think."
Farther remark was cut short by the sudden discharge of the pewter mug, which, however, fell harmlessly on the panel of the closing door as the impertinent Corrie sped forth to call the settlement to arms.
CHAPTER SIX.
SUSPICIONS ALLAYED AND RE-AWAKENED.
Gascoyne, followed by his man Jo b.u.mpus, sped over the rugged mountains and descended the slopes on the opposite side of the island soon after nightfall, and long before Captain Montague, in his large and well-manned boat, could pull half way round in the direction of the sequestered bay where the _Foam_ lay quietly at anchor.
There was not a breath of wind to ruffle the surface of the gla.s.sy sea, as the captain of the sandal-wood trader reached the sh.o.r.e and uttered a low cry like the hoot of an owl. The cry was instantly replied to, and in a few minutes a boat crept noiselessly towards the sh.o.r.e, seeming, in the uncertain light, more like a shadow than a reality. It was rowed by a single man. When within a few yards of the sh.o.r.e, the oars ceased to move, and the deep stillness of the night was scarcely broken by the low voice of surly d.i.c.k demanding--"Who goes there?"
"All right, pull in," replied Gascoyne, whose deep ba.s.s voice sounded sepulchral in the almost unearthly stillness. It was one of those dark oppressively quiet nights which make one feel a powerful sensation of loneliness, and a peculiar disinclination, by word or act, to disturb the prevailing quiescence of nature--such a night as suggests the idea of a coming storm to those who are at sea, or of impending evil to those on land.
"Is the mate aboard?" inquired Gascoyne.
"He is, sir."
"Are any of the hands on sh.o.r.e?"
"More than half of "em, sir."
Nothing more was said; and in a few minutes Gascoyne was slowly pacing the quarter-deck of his little vessel in earnest consultation with his first mate. There seemed to be some difference of opinion between the captain and his officer, for their words, which at first were low, at length became audible.
"I tell you, Manton, it won"t do," said Gascoyne, sternly.
"I can only suggest what I believe to be for the good of the ship,"
replied the other, coldly. "Even if you succeed in your attempt, you will be certain to lose some of our hands; for although the best of them are on sh.o.r.e, the commander of the _Talisman_ will think those that remain too numerous for a sandal-wood trader, and you are aware that we are sufficiently short-handed in such dangerous seas."
The latter part of this speech was uttered in a slightly sarcastic tone.
"What would you have me do, then?" demanded Gascoyne, whose usual decision of character seemed to have deserted him under the influence of conflicting feelings, which, the first mate could plainly perceive, agitated the breast of his commander, but which he could by no means account for. Certainly he had no sympathy with them, for Manton"s was a hard, stern nature--not given to the melting mood.
"Do?" exclaimed the mate vehemently, "I would mount the red, and get out the sweeps. An hour"s pull will place the schooner on the other side of the reef. A shot from Long Tom will sink the best boat in the service of his Britannic Majesty, and we could be off and away with the land breeze before morning."
"What! sink a man-of-war"s boat!" exclaimed Gascoyne; "why, that would make them set us down as pirates at once, and we should have to run the gauntlet of half the British navy before this time next year."
Manton received this remark with a loud laugh, which harshly disturbed the silence of the night.
"That is true," said he, "yet I scarcely expected to see Captain Gascoyne shew the white feather."
"Possibly not," retorted the other, grimly; "yet methinks that he who counsels flight shews more of the white feather than he who would shove his head into the very jaws of the lion. It won"t do, Manton; I have my own reasons for remaining here. The white lady must in the meantime smile on the British commander. Besides, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to do all this and get our fellows on board again before morning. The land-breeze will serve to fill the sails of the _Talisman_ just as well as those of the _Foam_; and they"re sure to trip their anchor to-night, for, you"ll scarcely believe it, this mad little fellow Montague actually suspects me to be the pirate Durward!"
Again the harsh laugh of Manton disturbed the peaceful calm, and this time he was joined by Gascoyne, who seemed at length to have overcome the objections of his mate, for their tones again sank into inaudible whispers.
Shortly after this conversation the moon broke out from behind a bank of clouds, and shone brightly down on land and sea, throwing into bold relief the precipices, pinnacles, and gorges of the one, and covering the other with rippling streaks of silver. About the same time the oars of the man-of-war"s boat were heard, and in less than half an hour Captain Montague ascended the side of the _Foam_, where, to his great surprise, he was politely received by Gascoyne.
"Captain Gascoyne has reason to be proud of his pedestrian powers," said the young commander; "he must have had urgent reason for making such good use of his legs since we last met."
"To do the honours of his own ship, when he expects a visit from a British officer, is surely sufficient reason to induce a poor skipper to take an extra walk of a fine evening," replied Gascoyne, blandly.
"Besides, I know that men-of-war are apt to take a fancy to the crews of merchantmen sometimes, and I thought my presence might be necessary here to-night."
"How?" exclaimed Montague, quickly. "Do you fancy that your single arm, stout though it be, could avail to prevent this evil that you dread if I think proper to act according to established usage in time of war."
"Nay, that were extreme vanity indeed," returned the other, "but I would fain hope that the explanations which I can give of the danger of our peculiar trade, and the necessity we have for a strong crew, will induce Captain Montague to forego his undoubted privilege and right on this occasion."
"I"m not sure of that," replied Montague, "it will depend much on your explanations being satisfactory. How many men have you?"
"Twenty-two."