The Sea-Witch, Maturin Murray Ballou [nonfiction book recommendations txt] 📗

“Either there is a big fish in our wake, or I hear the ripple of a ship’s cut-water. But I cannot see hull or canvass in this darkness,” said the mate, after a brief but searching gaze in the direction from whence they had come.

“It cannot be that you could hear the movement of a ship upon the water, farther than you could see her even in this light,” said the mother.

“It may have been the hauling of a ship’s yards, or some rickety block, but sound I did hear that came from on ship board,” said the mate, with assurance.

“See, see,” said the daughter, at that moment, “what is that?” pointing off nearly in the wake of the boat into the darkness.

“A ship!” said the mate, quickly; “a ship, as true as heaven!” adding, “shout, shout together now, or she will run us down.”

As he spoke, all eyes were bent on the dim object that was now fast approaching them, and steering as nearly on the same course with themselves as possible. Only a cloud of canvass was visible now, but soon the dark hull of a vessel appeared, and the mate hastened to light a lantern and hoist it to attract their attention. The signal was seemingly observed in an instant on board the stranger, and the hoarse deep order to heave the ship to, rolled over the waters and rang a welcome sound in the cars of those in the boat.

“I know not what sort of craft she is,” said the mate; “and this is a latitude where pirates intercept the homeward bound ships sometimes, though according to ny reckoning, we are too well in for the land to be in that track.”

“I trust there is no danger in accepting the assistance that the ship appears willing to give?” said the mother anxiously, to the mate.

“It is not more dangerous than to pass another night in this open boat, madam, at all events,” replied the mate, frankly.

“Stand by, to take this tow-line,” shouted a voice from the bulwarks of the ship, as the vessel drifted with a side impetus towards the tiny craft, while the figure of a man was observed in the mizzen shrouds with a coil of line ready to heave, at the word of command.

“Ay, ay,” answered the mate, steering his boat so as to bring her side on to the ship, and opening his arms to catch the line, which he saw was about to be thrown.

“Heave, heave clear of all,” shouted a stern, manly voice from the quarterdeck of the ship at this moment; “heave with a will.”

And a stout tow-line rattled through the air with a whizzing sound and lay between the mate’s extended arms. This was instantly seized upon, and while one of the men took a turn about the stanchion in the bow of the boat, those on board the ship gathered in the line until the boat was safely moored under her quarter. No words were exchanged, until the ladies, first, and the seamen next, were taken on board: the fact of their being wrecked and in distress being too apparent to require questioning. The valuables in the boat were quickly transferred to the ship, and the little craft which had proved an ark of safety to the adventurers, was then cut adrift, and soon lay a mere speck upon the waters, unguided and alone.

As the boat drifted for a moment astern of the vessel before the party were taken on board, the mate rend her name on the stern in golden letters, “The Sea Witch.” The foremast hands who had been saved from the wreck soon mingled with the crew on the forecastle of the “Sea Witch,” and told their story there, while the mate and the ladies were received in the most hospitable manner in the cabin, where the captain endeavored to offer them every comfort the ship afforded, and to place every resource entirely at their command.

Mrs. Huntington and her daughter were at first too tearful and full of gratitude for their preservation to converse, and soon took advantage of the kind offer which placed the captain’s private apartments entirely at their service, while the mate explained their adventures in detail, not forgetting the phantom ship which passed them in the gale, and which had caused such consternation on board the wrecked Indiaman. But his story in this particular was unfortunately spoiled, when Captain Ratlin told him positively that he was at that moment on board the very craft which he had designated as the Flying Dutchman. A remark that for a moment puzzled the honest seaman and led him to look suspiciously about him; but a few corroborating remarks soon placed the subject at rest in even the mate’s credulous mind.

The fact was, that the same gale which had made a wreck of the Indiaman, had driven the “Sea Witch” two days’ sail or more out of her course, and had thus brought her in sight of the Bengal at that critical moment when it would have been impossible to have rendered her the least assistance. The continuance of the gale had carried the ship far to the southward, from whence she was now returning.

It was early morning upon the day succeeding that auspicious night for the party in the boat, that Miss Huntington and her mother made their appearance upon the quarterdeck, and tendered their thanks for the service rendered. Captain Ratlin received them there with a frank, manly air, assured them of full protection, and that he would land them at some port from whence they could take ship for England. A very few hours placed him on the best of terms with his passengers, for there was that frank, and open discourse of manner with him, which his countenance promised, while he felt irresistibly drawn towards the gentle and beautiful girl whose protector he had thus strangely and suddenly become. Not one point of her sweet beauty was lost upon the young commander, and her every word and movement he seemed to dwell upon, and to consider with a tenacious degree of interest.

On her part, Miss Huntington looked upon him as her preserver, and did not hesitate to accord him that confidence which the circumstances of her situation would so naturally lead to, being delighted and entertained by the sketches he gave her of sea life and wild adventure upon the ocean, elicited by her suggestion. The mother, too, was well-pleased with the profound respect and polite attention which herself and daughter received from him, and accorded him that cordial countenance in his intercourse with her child which placed him quite at ease.

“We have not even asked you, Captain Ratlin, what trade you are in,” said the mother, as they sat together, her daughter and the young commander, upon the quarterdeck beneath an awning which had been rigged for their comfort.

“Ahem! madam!” hesitated the young officer, “we are, that is, yes, we are on a trading voyage to the coast—just at the present time.”

Whether the mother saw that the subject was not one which was of an agreeable nature to him, or otherwise, she at once changed the subject, and congenial themes were discussed, to the delight of the daughter, who dwelt with evident pleasure upon the manly tones of the captain’s voice, which seemed to have some secret charm upon her. Even her mother noticed this, and seemed to regard her with sensitive watchfulness while the captain was near, though there was no well defined suspicion or fear in her mind.

“Is it customary for traders upon these seas to go so thoroughly armed, Captain Ratlin?” asked the daughter, one day, after she had been shown about the decks, at her own request, where she had marked the heavy calibre of the gun amidship, its well as the neat and serviceable array of small arms within the entrance to the cabin.

“It is a treacherous latitude, lady, and the strong arm often makes the right,” he answered again, evasively, as he called her attention to some distant object in the horizon, while at the same moment there was shouted from aloft:

“Land O!”

“Land, land!” repeated the gentle being by his side, “what land?”

“Africa,” quietly responded the captain, without a token of satisfaction.

“Africa? that is indeed an inhospitable shore; can we land there?”

“Yes, I shall make sure that you land safely, and can despatch you to Sierra Leone, from whence you can take ship for England, but—”

“Sail O!” shouted the lookout.

“Whereaway?” asked the captain promptly, seizing a deck trumpet and abruptly turning from her to whom he had been speaking, while his whole manner changed at once.

“A couple of points on the larboard beam, sir,” answered the seaman.

“All hands, Mr. Faulkner, and ‘bout ship; that square rig and the heavy lift of those topsails tell what there must be below to sustain them. Lively, sir, the ‘Sea Witch’ must show her qualities.”

Miss Huntington had watched with some amazement these orders, and the result of the same, and as she saw the beautiful craft in which she was put at once on the opposite tack and steer boldly away from the shore which had just been made, she could not help for a moment remembering the words of the mate in the boat, that pirates sometimes were found in these latitudes!

After a moment’s thought she felt that she did Captain Ratlin injustice, for whatever might cause him to flee from the sight of what she presumed by his remarks to be a man-of-war, yet she felt that he could not be a pirate. True, the vessel even to her inexperienced eye was very strongly manned, and there was a severity of discipline observed on board that was very different from what she had seen while they were in the Indiaman, but that man could not be a pirate, she felt that he could not—she would not do him the injustice to think it possible.

Let the stranger be whom he might, the “Sea Witch” seemed to have no intention of making his acquaintance, and as easily dropped the topsails of the vessel again as she had made them, while from the manner in which the stranger steered, it was doubtful whether his lookout had made out the “Sea Witch” at all—and so Captain Ratlin remarked to his first officer, while he ordered the ship to be kept on her present course for an hour, then to haul up on the wind and run in shore again.

“Is it usual, Captain Ratlin,” asked the young and beautiful girl, “for vessels on the coast to so dread meeting each other as to deliberately alter their course when this seems likely to be the case?”

“Trade is peculiar on this coast, and men-of-warsmen take extraordinary liberties on board such vessels as they happen to overhaul,” was the reply. “I always avoid their company when I can do so conveniently.”

As Captain Ratlin said this, his eyes met those of his companion for a moment, which were bent anxiously upon his face, as though she would read his inmost thoughts. He noted the expression, and replied at once:

“Whatever suspicion or fear may have entered Miss Huntington’s mind, I beg of her to dispel, as it regards her own and her mother’s safety and comfort. Both shall be my sole care until you are safely landed upon shore, where I shall at the earliest moment place you in a situation to reach your homes in England.”

“I know you will do this,” she replied, “and if my looks betrayed any anxiety, it was not for our safety, but for your own, Captain Ratlin.”

“My safety, lady? do you then consider that worth your anxiety?” he asked, with unmistakable earnestness in his voice.

“You have been