Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader, Robert Michael Ballantyne [english novels to improve english .TXT] 📗

to hide from Alice the irrepressible emotions that nearly burst his heart. Yes, Corrie was thoroughly subdued by grief. But the spring was not broken, it was only crushed flat by the weight of sorrow that lay like a millstone on his youthful bosom.

The first thing that set his active brain a-going once more--thereby overturning the weight of sorrow and causing the spring of his peculiar spirit to rebound--was the sight of the two pirates hauling up the boat and carrying off the oars.

"Ha! that's your game is it?" muttered the boy between his teeth, and grasping the pole with both hands as if he wished to squeeze his fingers into the wood. "You don't want to give us a chance of escaping, don't you, eh! is that it? You think that because we're a small party, and the half of us females, that we're cowed, and won't think of trying any other way of escaping, do you? Oh yes, that's what you think; you know it, you do, _but you're mistaken_," (he became terribly sarcastic and bitter at this point;) "you'll find that you have got _men_ to deal with, that you've not only caught a tartar, but _two_ tartars--one o' them being ten times tartarer than the other. Oh, if--"

"What's all that you're saying, Corrie?" said Montague, stepping out of the tent at that moment.

"O captain," said the boy, vehemently, "I wish I were a giant!"

"Why so, lad?"

"Because then I would wade out to that wreck, clap my shoulder to her bow, shove her into deep water, carry you, and Alice, and Poopy aboard, haul out the main-mast by the roots, make an oar of it, and scull out to sea, havin' previously fired off the biggest gun aboard of her, to let the pirates know what I was doing."

Corrie's spirit was in a tumultuous and very rebellious state. He was half inclined to indulge in hysterical weeping, and more than half disposed to give way to a burst of savage glee. He spoke with the mantling blood blazing in his fat cheeks, and his two eyes glittering like those of a basilisk. Montague could not repress a smile and a look of admiration as he said to our little hero--

"Why, Corrie, if you were a giant it would be much easier to go to the other side of the island, wring off the heads of all the pirates, and, carrying me on your shoulders, and Alice and Poopy in your coat-pockets, get safely aboard of the _Foam_, and ho! for Sandy Cove."

"So it would," said Corrie, gravely. "I did not think of that, and it would be a far pleasanter way than the other."

"Ah! Corrie, I fear that you are a very bloodthirsty fellow."

"Of course I am when I've pirates to deal with. I would kill them every man, without a thought."

"No you wouldn't, my boy. You couldn't do it in cold blood, even although they are bad men."

"I don't know that," said Corrie, dubiously. "I would do it without more feeling than I would have in killing a cat."

"Did you ever kill a cat?" asked Montague.

"Never," answered Corrie.

"Then how can you tell what your feelings would be if you were to attempt to do it. I remember once, when I was a boy, going out to hunt cats."

"O Captain Montague, surely _you_ never hunted cats," exclaimed Alice, who came out of the tent with a very pale face, and uncommonly red eyes.

"Yes, indeed, I did _once_--but I never did it again. I caught one, a kitten, and set off with a number of boys to kill it; but as we went along it began to play with my neck-tie and to _purr_! Our hearts were softened, so we let it go. Ah! Corrie, my boy, never go hunting cats," said Montague, earnestly.

"Did I say I was going to?" replied Corrie, indignantly.

Montague laughed, and so did Alice, at the fierce look the boy put on.

"Corrie," said the former, "I'm sure that you would not kill a pirate in cold blood, any more than you would kill a kitten--would you?"

"I'm not sure o' that," said Corrie, half laughing, but still looking fierce. "In the first place, my blood is never cold when I've to do with pirates; and, in the second place, pirates are not innocent creatures covered with soft hair--and they don't purr!"

This last remark set Alice into a fit of laughter, and drew a faint "Hee! hee!" from Poopy, who had been listening to the conversation behind the canvas of the tent.

Montague took advantage of this improved state of things. "Now, Alice," said he, cheerfully, "do you and Poopy set about spreading our blanket-tablecloth and getting supper laid out. It is but a poor one,-- hard biscuit and water,--but there is plenty of it, and, after all, that is the main thing. Meanwhile Corrie and I will saunter along shore and talk over our plans. Cheer up, my little girl, we will manage to give these pirates the slip somehow or other, you may depend upon it."

"Corrie," said Montague, when they were alone. "I have spoken cheeringly to Alice, because she is a little girl and needs comfort, but you and I know that our case is a desperate one, and it will require all our united wisdom and cleverness to effect our escape from these rascally pirates."

The commander of the _Talisman_ paused, and smiled in spite of himself at the idea of being placed in circumstances that constrained him to hold a consultation, in matters that might involve life and death, with a mere boy! But there was no help for it; besides, to say truth, the extraordinary energy and courage that had been displayed by the lad, combined with a considerable amount of innate sharpness in his character, tended to create a feeling that the consultation might not be altogether without advantage. At all events, it was better to talk over their desperate position even with a boy, than to confine his anxieties to his own breast.

But although Montague had seen enough of his young companion to convince him that he was an intelligent fellow, he was not prepared for the fertility of resource, the extremity of daring, and the ingenuity of device, that were exhibited by him in the course of that consultation.

To creep over in the dead of night, knife in hand, and attack the pirates while asleep, was one of the least startling of his daring propositions; and to swim out to the wreck, set her on fire, and get quietly on board the _Avenger_ while all the amazed pirates should have rushed over to see what could have caused such a blaze, cut the cable and sail away, was among the least ingenious of his devices.

These two talked long and earnestly while the shades of evening were descending on the Isle of Palms--and in the earnestness of their talk, and the pressing urgency of their case, the man almost forgot that his companion was a boy, and the boy never for a moment doubted that he himself, in everything but years, was a man.

It was getting dark when they returned to the tent, where they found that Alice and Poopy had arranged their supper with the most scrupulous care and nicety. These too, with the happy buoyancy of extreme youth, had temporarily forgotten their position, and, when their male companions entered, were deeply engaged in a private game of a "tea party," in which hard biscuit figured as bun, and water was made to do duty for tea. In this latter part of the game, by the way, the children did but carry out in jest a practice which is not altogether unknown in happier circumstances and in civilised society.


CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.


PLANS PARTIALLY CARRIED OUT--THE CUTTER'S FATE--AND A SERIOUS MISFORTUNE.

The cutter was a fast sailer, and although the pirate schooner had left Sandy Cove nearly two days before her, the _Wasp_, having had a fair wind, followed close on her heels. The _Avenger_ cast anchor in the harbour of the Isle of Palms on the morning of her fifth day out; the _Wasp_ sighted the island on the evening of the same day.

It was not Gascoyne's purpose to run down at once and have a hand to hand fight with his own men. He felt that his party was too weak for such an attempt, and resolved to accomplish by stratagem what he could not hope to compass by force. He therefore hove-to the instant the tops of the palm-trees appeared on the horizon, and waited till night should set in and favour his designs.

"What do you intend to do?" inquired Henry Stuart, who stood on the deck watching the sun as it sank into the ocean behind a mass of golden clouds, in which, however, there were some symptoms of stormy weather.

"I mean to wait till it is dark," said Gascoyne, "and then run down and take possession of the schooner."

Henry looked at the pirate captain in surprise, and not without distrust. Ole Thorwald, who was smoking his big German pipe with great energy, looked at him with undisguised uneasiness.

"You speak as if you had no doubt whatever of succeeding in this enterprise, Mr Gascoyne," said the latter.

"I _have_ no doubt," replied Gascoyne.

"I do believe you're right," returned Thorwald, smoking furiously as he became more agitated. "I make no question but your villains will receive you with open arms. What guarantee have we, Mister Gascoyne, or Mister Durward, that we shall not be seized and made to walk the plank, or perform some similarly fantastic feat--in which, mayhap, our feet will have less to do with the performance than our necks--when you get into power?"

"You have no guarantee whatever," returned Gascoyne, "except the word of a pirate!"

"You say truth," cried Ole, springing up and pacing the deck with unwonted energy, while a troubled and somewhat fierce expression settled on his usually good-humoured countenance. "You say truth, and I think we have been ill-advised when we took this step--for my part, I regard myself as little better than a maniac for putting myself obstinately, not to say deliberately, into the very jaws of a lion, perhaps I should say a tiger. But mark my words, Gascoyne, _alias_ Durward," (here he stopped suddenly before the pirate, who was leaning in a careless attitude against the mast, and looked him full in the face,) "if you play us false, as I have no hesitation in saying I believe that you fully intend to do, your life will not be worth a pewter shilling."

"I am yet in your power, Mr Thorwald," said Gascoyne; "if your friends agree to it, I cannot prevent your putting about and returning to Sandy Cove. But in that case the missionary's child _will be lost_!"

"I do not believe that my child's safety is so entirely dependent on you," said Mr Mason, who had listened in silence to the foregoing dialogue; "she is in the hands of that God on whom you have turned your back, and with whom all things are possible. But I feel disposed to trust you, Gascoyne, and I feel thus, because of what was said of you by Mrs Stuart, in whose good sense